Crossover The Greater Game (Babylon 5/BattleTech)

Chapter 1
  • Spartan303

    In Captain America we Trust!
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    Osaul
    Posted with the permission and insistence of Lightning_Count.

    December 2247

    The Final Week of the Minbari War


    "This was always the dumbest idea we had." General Robert Lefcourt was not subtle in his disregard for the sight sitting beyond the viewports. "How much time and money did we pour into this?"

    "Twenty three billion credits." His comrade General Kyle Farrow had long since memorized the number along with a complete breakdown of how and where it had been spent. "Want to know how many nukes we could have made for that?"

    "I absolutely don't want to know."

    To both military officers there didn't seem to be a lot of product for the investment, certainly not the decisive advantage humanity needed in their current war with the Minbari. To say it wasn't going well was an understatement, the once massive fleets of Earth Force had been systematically obliterated by the superior alien technology of the Minbari. No trick, tactic, wonder weapon or simple weight of numbers had meant a damn. The Minbari were now just a few days away from Earth itself and when they arrived it would mean the end of the human race.

    Unless this massive investment paid off.

    "Generals, sorry to keep you waiting!" An effulgent personality skidded to a stop beside them, massively out of place amid the dour military personnel. "Ah, sorry, not use to this gravity, and the constant spinning..."

    "Doctor Ginelli." Farrow cut off her stream of words. "Can I assume we are ready to test your project?"

    "What? Yes, right!" The young woman waved at the window in front of them, the view steadily rotating but keeping the broader scene in focus. Beyond them was the sun, the ship they were stood upon angled so the intense brightness did not pour though the viewports and require polarized goggles. Closer to them was an unusual looking structure resembling a mile wide metal sphere with a massive umbrella style dish pointing back toward the sun. There was nothing else like it anywhere in known space and for good reason in Lefcourt's opinion.

    "So run this by me one more time Doctor."

    "Right, okay." The energised scientist manually reset her brain by slapping the side of her head. "The problem we have is that the Minbari are coming here to kill us and we can't stop them. If we had time we might but we don't. Because we've almost run out of ships."

    "And this machine...?" Lefcourt gestured out the window

    "It gives us time. The Minbari are far more advanced than us but still use Hyperspace, they still have to abide by the laws of physics. Hyperspace requires a jump point, a vortex created by perfectly modulated tachyon bombardment that opens the way from hyperspace to real space. But we know that in some places you cannot form a vortex, or even travel through hyperspace due to gravitic interference."

    "Is that what your machine does?"

    Dr Ginelli pulled a face, then another as she sorted through responses, eventually selecting one. "Not really no. But it does flood hyperspace with tachyons preventing jump point formation. So if the Minbari can't leave hyperspace they can't drop into orbit and murder everyone."

    "Fair idea." General Farrow allowed. "Does it work?"

    "In a lab, yes, on a practical scale, we'll know in a minute."

    "And you placed it here because it needs the sun?" Lefcourt reasoned.

    "Yes, exactly, the power requirements are vast and any fusion reactor we built would be absurdly vast. But hey, we have a giant fusion reactor just kind of sitting here." She waved toward the sun. "We just gather power from it and presto, tachyon storm."

    "Is this in any way dangerous?"

    "Oh yeah, incredibly dangerous!" Ginelli bubbled, quickly pulling it back. "But only if you are in hyperspace. Or standing too close."

    "How close is too close exactly?" Lefcourt peered out of the window at the device very pointedly.

    "Oh, er, we'll be fine. Probably." Ginelli rocked on her feet. "You already had children right? Joke!"

    Lefcourt's expression did not change, he was not appreciating this assignment, someone among the Joint Chiefs was having a great laugh at his expense.

    "Are we ready to begin?"

    "Sure, it's fully charged, say a prayer to Murphy and off we go!"

    The operation did at least look professional, head scientist not withstanding the rest of the team went to work smoothly and efficiently. The monitoring ship they were on bustled with activity, a simple converted liner being the best Earth could offer from its meagre resources. This hyperspace inhibitor was not popular, a waste of effort according to most military officers, but people were desperate for any hope, even from proverbial mad scientists.

    "System at capacity, Tachyon generators ready." Ginelli exhaled. "Show time."

    She hit the control, space around the device rippling briefly before nothing. The device sat in space as before, quiet and unremarkable. It was a silence mirrored by the two General officers.

    "We're down to zero charge, the device activated and dumped its entire power capacity in a single discharge." One of the technicians reported. "Tachyon levels are steady and normal."

    "That's impossible, just impossible!" Ginelli bounded up to the monitoring equipment. "Where did all the tachyons go?"

    "Twenty three billion well spent." Farrow exhaled. "Any ideas?"

    "We better check, just in case it actually did work." Lefcourt raised his hand and tapped the commlink attached to the back. "Comms, put me through to the Lexington."

    "Ready sir."

    "Lexington, what's the situation over there?"



    Sitting slightly more distant behind the monitoring ship was the mission escort, the pale grey and blue heavy cruiser Lexington, her hull showing multiple patches where heavy battle damage had been repaired. She remained under the command of John Sheridan, the by now famous officer preferring the speed and flexibility of a cruiser over the bigger dreadnoughts.

    "General, situation here is unchanged." Sheridan replied to the query. "We picked up a pretty big tachyon pulse, but now nothing."

    "Same here, but we need a test anyway." Lefcourt followed through on his duty to properly oversee the experiment. "Try to open a jump point, don't head through, just see if its possible."

    "Understood sir." Sheridan nodded to his helm officer. "Okay Phil, bring jump engines online, lets see what happens."

    The heavy cruiser shunted power from her reactors to the jump systems, a focused stream of tachyons bombarding a point in space at just the right frequency and intensity to bore through and create a spectacular rippling vortex through to hyperpsace. The jump drive worked perfectly, which was not a good sign.

    "Did you get that General?" Sheridan transmitted to the monitoring team. "Jump point is open, no apparent anomalies."

    "We got it Captain." Lefcourt confirmed. "I think we're done here, shut it down Captain and head back to Venus. We'll need that old Centauri gate online as soon as possible for the evacuation."

    "I'll get back to it General, Lexington out."

    Lefcourt turned to General Farrow, both of them accepting the same conclusion.

    "Alright Doctor, lets pack it up here. You're scheduled for the evacuation fleet and you really don't want to miss your ride."

    "I just don't understand." Ginelli scratched her messy hair. "It worked, for a second it worked! We did everything right, but we still failed."

    "Don't feel too bad Doctor." Farrow tried a smile. "That might as well be the epitaph of this war."

    "I was so sure!"

    "Heard that one before too." The General offered. "Shut it down Doctor, you still have a responsibility to your team, make sure they have all they need before you head out."

    She took a final long look at the experiment, shaking her head, edging toward tears.

    "I just wanted to save Earth."

    "Nothing can do that now. Your job is much harder." Farrow related. "You get to save the future."




    The Lexington was about ten minutes into its journey to Venus when the navigational system flashed up an error. Lieutenant Philip Marks ran three separate checks, each time getting the same error.

    "Captain, do you have a second?"

    "Sure, what've you got Lieutenant?"

    "Something off in the navigation. According to our local positioning system we're on course for Venus, all local beacons and waypoints are good, but our stellar navigation is going haywire."

    "Haywire how?"

    "I can't get a fix on any constellations." Marks replied, just as bemused as the ship's computer. "Normally the navigation system runs a secondary check with stellar positioning, pretty pointless here in Sol but handy out on the Rim or known space. It's just routine here, but it keeps throwing up errors."

    "Problem in the sensors?"

    "I've checked it four times, all clean."

    "Can you try it manually?"

    "I did sir and, well, I can't find Orion. Or Ursa Major, or any of the big constellations."

    "Put the optical view up on the big screen." Sheridan ordered. "They've got to be out there."

    The large viewscreen shifted to show the path ahead of them, the planet Venus a bright dot to the front left with a field of stars behind it. It was such a common sight he'd been taking it for granted, just the background of his daily life, but now he looked closely he was also having a hard time picking out the main constellations.

    "The hell is wrong with us?" He showed a little frustration. "People have been spotting constellations since they started banging rocks together!"

    "I can't see them either sir." Steven Carroll his First Officer chimed in. "Must be going cross eyes."

    "Me neither." Jean Alecto added from the sensor station. "Either our instruments are broken or we're not where we should be."

    "Venus is still there, the sun's at our back, all the local beacons are active..." Sheridan tailed off. "Can you get the Proxima beacon?"

    "One second sir." Marks brought up the long distance navigation system. Proxima was the nearest Earth Colony and while it had recently fallen to the Minbari its navigation beacon would still be active. "I can't reach it Captain. In fact I'm not getting any beacon readings outside local space."

    "Did traffic control turn off the beacons?"

    "Nothing scheduled sir, we should still be able to pick up navigation routes outside of Sol." Marks shook his head in utter confusion. "Nothing."

    "Commander, can me a line to Venusian control." Sheridan ordered.

    "Ready."

    "Venus Station Prime, this is Lexington. We're having some trouble with our long range navigation. Can you confirm our position using stellar waypoints?"

    "Standby Lexington, we're having some problems too." A distinctly irate traffic controller responded. "Our long range system is down too."

    "Captain, we may have another issue." Alecto called over from the sensor station. "Can I change the viewscreen to show behind us?"

    "Go ahead."

    The image shifted to show the sun as expected, but beyond it instead of a plain starfield was a vast colourful nebula dominating the vista. It caught their breath for a moment, the image banishing their doubts and derailing any attempts to rationalise the situation.

    "Venus Control." Sheridan's throat was dry. "Have you looked out of a window lately??"
     
    Chapter 2
  • Jumpship 'Lucky Dip'
    Sol System


    "Told you it was safe." Pieter Schwartzman grinned triumphantly showcasing his full set of gold teeth to his considerably less confident passengers. "She might not look it but this little beauty is as fast as Jumpships come, you show me another ship that can recharge that quick eh?"

    "Fine, fine, a bet's a bet." The largest man on the flight deck fished out some shiny coins and launched them across the zero gravity space to the Captain, Pieter grabbing them out of the air eagerly. "But it's still only a twenty five percent cut."

    "Come on Tomas, you don't get service like this for cheap."

    "If you want more send a team with us, then you get a raiders cut." Tomas Dane glared back at the Jumpship Captain. "Risk equals reward, you want more money, you come with us and maybe get your head shot off. Thats where the money is."
    From the front of the flight deck one of Pieter's men cleared his throat loudly.

    "Sitting here in a Suns system waiting for you to finish pillaging is plenty risky enough."

    "No Piet, it really isn't."

    The crewman coughed again very pointedly.

    "What if a patrol shows up? Know how many guns I've got on this thing? It's a nice round number!"

    "Nobody is going to blow you up, this crate is far too precious." Tomas waved the protest away. "Twenty Five."
    The crewman coughed again.

    "No they'll just board us and gas us and... what the fuck Fran, just spit it out!"

    "We're not in Suns space, the jump resolved early." The crewman finally reported. "I don't know and I don't know, it just did, we're about a jump short."

    Tomas quietly propelled himself over to hover face to face with Pieter, the massive passenger about double the scrawny Captain's size.

    "Perfectly safe to run a fast recharge you said."

    "Hey, we're alive!" Pieter defended. "So okay, maybe its a bit of a delay..."

    "The cut is now twenty percent, and be glad I'm not taking those shiny teeth for screwing my schedule."

    He sneered a little but was in no position to argue, not with a well armed bandit anyway.
    "Where are we anyway?"

    "I thought maybe Cooperland, dead world." The navigation tech frowned. "But this place aint dead, There's a lot going out there, this is a real colony."

    "It's dead out here, aint no planets worth having." Tomas pushed Pieter aside to look at the displays, scrunching up his face as he made the effort to read. "What's that mean?"

    "It means there is one big habitable planet, third one out, looks a real big one." The tech said.

    "Plus some smaller settlements, I'd guess mines on the crappy worlds."

    "And this weren't on no maps?"

    "Not one, must be a lost colony."

    "Doing pretty well for itself too." Pieter checked the data. "So this location worth something right?"

    Tomas rubbed his chin, the big bandit weighing options. "Yeah, it's worth something. Ain't no AFFS here to defend this place, don't look like anyone else has been here maybe since the old days. Ripe for the picking, this place would be worth a fortune back in Tortuga."

    "So... pretty good accident right?" Pieter raised a hopeful eyebrow. "Thirty percent good?"

    "Twenty five, but fifty fifty when we sell the location." Tomas negotiated. "And maybe thirty when we come back."

    "Okay, good, so you gonna start then?"

    "Course I'm gonna start." Tomas spat. "This place is way better than some shitty farmers on some shitty frontier."

    "Okay, great, so you going for the big one or..."

    "I have two drop ships and no mechs, course I ain't going for the big one!" Tomas snarled, somewhat in anger and somewhat because he knew he didn't have the personal resources to fully exploit this fortuitous find. This could have made him a pirate king, instead somebody else with a real raiding force would get all the good loot. Still, he could fill his pockets nicely.

    "I'll go hit the nearest station, then we bounce and make real money on the second trip."

    "Works for me boss, I'll just sit here, recharge the jump engines, be waiting for your glorious profitable return."

    "Make sure you do." Tomas glared. "This will make us both rich, and you don't want a rich pirate as an enemy."

    "Contract is a contract." Pieter raised his hands and smiled that golden smile. "Have fun out there."



    Earth Dome
    Geneva


    The conference room was one of the larger rooms here at the seat of government, its broad windows looking out over lake Geneva and the spectacular views beyond. The massive wooden table at the centre of the room could seat forty people and was today completely inadequate. The staff had brought in extra chairs to huddle about twice as many people at the table and it still wasn't enough. A crowd lined the walls and clustered in any open space, all of them needed to be there.

    The President as was usual sat at the top of the table and was the only person with some actual elbow room. To her left was the cabinet, all of her major ministers. To the right the Joint Chiefs and her senior military. At the far end of the table her science advisors, and everywhere else the rest of her staff and advisors.

    "When you say we have moved, just clarify for me again what that means." President Elizabeth Levy rested the side of her head on her hand trying very hard to fight off another head ache. She was ragged, worn out, presiding over the Minbari War and what looked like the extinction of mankind had aged her forty years. Now here was something else, only this time she had no idea how she was supposed to react.

    "It is as it sounds, Madam President." Her chief science advisor Professor Aldebaran Klein delivered in serious monotone, his persona in stark contrast to the barely contained Angela Ginelli, still fizzing on the edge of explosion as she sat next to him. "Based on our calculations we have moved approximately six hundred lightyears rimward of our previous location."
    "You're talking about the whole planet? The entire solar system?" Levy checked. "And everything in it?"

    "Yes Madam President, specifically everything within a quarter lightyear of Sol itself."

    "How? How is that even possible?"

    "I don't know Ma'am, we are working on it." Klein shook his head. "We were experimenting with a system to create a tachyon field around our solar system, but it was in no way powerful enough to have any of these effects."

    "Any yet here we are."

    "Yes Madam President, it is undeniable, here we are. Stable, no disruption to planetary orbits, it is as if we were lifted and placed perfectly in this new location."

    "Maybe all those prayers to deliver us from the Minbari were heard after all."

    "Or the Tachyon envelope interacted with hyperspace in an unexpected way to create a phase event of unbelievable magnitude." Ginelli chipped in, quickly backing down in the austere company. "As a different option."

    "Whatever the reason we are here now, that cannot be denied." Levy accepted the truth as presented. "So where is here? Six hundred lightyears? That's not outside explored space."
    "No ma'am, we're not as far out as Omega sector, which is our furthest explored location." Klein agreed. "But there are some radical changes. The hyperspace beacon network has vanished, aside from our own planetary beacons and the two gates at Sol."

    "We should still be well within the network, even if our location has changed." General Lefcourt added. "This isn't a problem with our navigation systems, the network is just gone, it doesn't exist."

    "Which limits our ability to use hyperspace, as you know ma'am with no beacons to lock on to our ships will become lost in hyperspace within minutes. No ship so lost has even been found again." Klein made himself clear. "Until we reconnect to the network, we are isolate. No ships in or out."

    "Including Minbari ships?" Levy asked.

    "Yes." Lefcourt answered. "So in a way our experiment worked, just not as planned."

    "Can we contact our Colonies? Tell them what has happened?"

    "We haven't been able to contact anywhere outside Sol, neither our own colonies or alien powers." Klein continued. "Normally we can also pick up news broadcasts from the Narn, Centauri, League, but we've got nothing."

    "At first I thought the tachyon field was jamming all signals, the comms, the beacons, all of it." Ginelli chipped in. "But the tachyons are gone, there's just nothing there."

    "Let's hear some options, Generals?" Levy turned to her military.

    "Well Madam President, for better or worse we have what we wanted. The Sol system is cut off.

    " General Anton Denisov, head of the Joint Chiefs related. "Warship production at Mars and Io is ongoing, training is continuing, and we are close to deploying the Aegis defence satellites. This might be exactly what we needed."

    "At the price of abandoning all our colonies?" Levy reminded. "We need to find a way to make contact."

    "I'm working on boosting our tachyon relays." Klein spoke. "But frankly Madam President we should already be well in range of standard communications. I can't explain why we have no signals."

    "We have two explorer ships waiting to go Ma'am." General Lefcourt made his comment.

    "They were going to evacuate with the civilians but we can put them back on their main duty of deploying new beacons. Try to link us up again with the jump gate network."

    "Though I should note Madam President that all of these acts could once again alert the Minbari to our presence." Denisov cautioned. "We should balance our need to communicate with our remaining colonies and the need to guard the lives on Earth."

    As Levy considered the options a young officer entered the room, squeezing past the packed group to make his way to General Denisov. He leaned down, whispered a few comments in the senior officer's ear, then withdrew. The old General took a moment, then turned to Levy.

    "Madam President, I've just been informed an unknown vessel has entered our space."

    "Unknown?"

    "Yes Ma'am, it isn't Minbari but doesn't match any known design."

    "How did it get here?" Klein raised. "We're off the beacon network, nothing can reach us."

    "We don't know, Earth sector command is sending a ship to intercept. We'll know more then."

    "General, could this be a First Contact situation?" Levy asked, her headaches tripling.

    "Very possible Ma'am."

    "Then in the name of all that is good and holy, send the best man for the job this time."



    EAS Lexington

    "I knew this was going to get busy but this is ridiculous."

    "Long range sensors confirm it." Lieutenant Alecto reported over. "Three unidentified contacts, one holding station over the Sun, two more burning for Venus. None are Minbari."
    "We were helping organise the guard fleet for the evacuation, then helping out with the tachyon field experiment, then hurled six hundred lightyears without noticing, and now we're carrying out a First Contact. All within..." Sheridan checked his watch. "Ten hours."

    "And we've still got time for a major diplomatic incident leading to another war." Carroll piped in optimistically. "At this rate we'll be executed by tea time."

    "Thank you Commander, I'll know who to go to if I ever start feeling too happy in the future."

    "Here to help sir."

    "Phil, can we make a jump or are we going there the old way?"

    "We can jump sir, the planetary beacons are good enough for in system travel." The navigation officer confirmed. "But anything beyond half a lightyear is very dicey."

    "Good enough for me." Sheridan exhaled. "Alright, we better get this done. We'll take a defensive posture but keep weapons safe and maintain a respectful distance."

    "Understood completely." Marks tapped in the destination. "Ready to go sir."

    "Make the jump, nice and steady." Sheridan gave permission. "Hope these guys are friendly.



    Jumpship Lucky Dip

    Fran Waters was not expecting company, and he definitely wasn't expecting the sort of company that opened a massive glowing swirl out of nowhere and dropped twelve hundred metres of grey steel in his face. If not for the zero gravity he would have fallen from his chair as a cacophony of alarms all sounded at once.

    "What the..." He struck each alarm in succession to turn it off, swiftly aligning the sensor suite to target the bizarre anomaly. Within seconds the swirling vortex was gone leaving just the ship. That did lessen his problems but still meant he was looking at something that should not exist.

    "The hell was that damn noise?" Pieter cruised into the bridge angling to see from the forward windows. "Did you break something?"

    "Warship." Fran said rapidly. "Its a fucking warship."

    "Bullshit, there are no more warships!" He peered through the windows. "They all got wasted back in...oh."

    "Its there, its really fucking big, and it's heading this way!" Fran was working the controls fast.
    "You wanna know our jump charge? Three percent. It's three percent boss. I'm putting that in the computer and it says we're fucked!"

    "Just chill okay, chill, technically we haven't done anything wrong." Pieter fought to keep calm, his brain sifting through a catalogue of excuses. "We always knew one day the cops or whatever might catch us, just style it out."

    "This isn't some Davion patrol, that's a battleship boss, look at it! That's a McKenna!"

    "It's not a McKenna, it's much too small. Probably."

    "It's Kerensky! We found the fucking Star League! Oh shit we're dead!"
    Pieter slapped his panicking pilot at the back of the head.

    "Just shut up and let me handle this! Are you calm? Get calm Fran, get calm right the fuck now."

    "Okay, okay." He took some breaths. "Okay, I'm in control."

    "Open a channel, and be nice. Leave it all to me."



    EAS Lexington


    "That's funny, I'm getting a response." Carroll checked his console. "Signal from the ship."

    "Already?" Sheridan exclaimed. "We only just sent them interlac!"

    "It's coming through on an old EM frequency, radio." Carroll raised an eyebrow. "I'll put it on speakers."

    The entire bridge twitched their ears working to split their attention between their duties and this first communication with a completely new alien race.

    "Hey, hey good morning over there, or whatever time it is. How are you? We're good over here, just recharging our drives. We'll be going soon. Nice sun you've got."

    Sheridan shared a look with his First Officer who raised his eyebrows back.

    "This isn't interlac, it isn't going through the translator. They're speaking English, a dialect of it anyway."

    "How?"

    "No answer for you Captain, but this is coming in real time."

    "Guess we better say something back then." Sheridan tapped a control to connect to the comms system.

    "I'm Captain John Sheridan on behalf of the Earth Alliance. We mean you no harm, are you from nearby?"



    Lucky Dip

    "Thank fuck for that." Fran exhaled hard.

    "Don't relax that sphincter yet, he might change his mind if he notices Tomas going for his space station." Pieter cleared his throat and reconnected the microphone. "Captain, thank you for the welcome. We don't want to impose on your time, we just need a few days to recharge our drives and then we're on our way."

    "Understood, we haven't seen a propulsion system quite like yours." The warship commander continued his pleasant but unwelcome conversation. "Can we ask you a few questions?"

    "Of course officer... Captain."

    "How are we able to speak the same language? Where did you learn these words?"
    Pieter gave Fran a look and shrugged. "Taught it like anywhere else. English is the main trade language so we all know it. I speak Dutch too but not usually on the job."
    There was a very long pause before the voice returned.

    "Do you know what a human is?"

    "Well, yeah, funny question." Pieter laughed. "Though I guess a lot of my clients barely qualify!"

    "Are you originally from Earth?"

    "I don't know any Earth, I'm from Atreus, out in the Free Worlds."

    "Terra." Fran hissed a whisper. "He means Terra."

    "Terra? Oh yeah, course, Terra, that's Earth, right, sure it is. Like you come from, with the big warship. Not personally but I knew a couple Terrans once. They were absolute sons of... great guys."

    He swallowed as there was an awkward silence.

    "Anything else?"



    EAS Lexington

    "How is this real?" Sheridan asked the same question he had asked a dozen times already.

    "They're human?"

    "Sensors confirm it, that's English writing on the ship." Alecto highlighted on the big viewscreen. "Thing could use a clean."

    "Anyone heard of Atreus? Could it be a city out on one of the newer colonies?"

    "No sir, nothing in any database." Carroll shook his head. "And who says Terra?"

    "Free Worlds sounds like it would be a pretty big group, more than a few planets." Marks mulled over. "We would have heard of it."

    "They have to be some sort of off shoot, descendants of an old experiment, some jump system from before we met the Centauri." Alecto guessed. "Left Earth a century ago on a failed experiment, except it didn't fail and here they are."

    "Not enough time to expand this much." Carroll shook his head. "Maybe we should ask them?"

    "Starship Lucky Dip," Sheridan read the painted on name from the viewscreen, "how did you end up here?"

    "Total accident." The voice returned. "We had no idea this place even existed, we thought you were just a stop off between jumps. We're as surprised by this meeting as you are!"

    "I doubt that." Sheridan muttered. "We didn't pick up your jump point, how did you arrive here?"

    "Same way as anyone, just jumped in from a mid range spot as we made our way to the Suns. For honest trading."

    "Which Suns? Are they nearby?"

    "Yeah, the Suns. The Federated Suns, about fifty lightyears away. Can't miss them, just look for the light shining out of Ian Davion's ass."
    The bridge crew shared a look between each other confirming nobody knew the name.

    "And now you're recharging your jump engines with this solar sail?"
    "Safest way to do it, and safety is my priority."

    "Alright." Sheridan accepted. "What about the other ships? The two ships burning for Venus. What do they want?"



    Lucky Dip

    Pieter was ready for this. "I don't know Captain, we're just a civilian transport carrying dropships to their destination."

    "But you said you had no idea we were here?" The warship pointed out. "So how can we have been their destination?"
    Pieter bit his lip. "I suppose it was a mistake, we just carry cargo, the client decides where to deploy it."

    "So those two vessels are cargo ships? Looking to open trade relations?"

    "....yes.... I suppose..."

    There was a lengthy pause.

    "Is there something we need to know about those ships?"

    "What ships?" Pieter asked innocently. "The cargo ships? I don't know, I mean they might be carrying dangerous cargo."

    "Dangerous how?"

    "Dangerous... armed pirate raiders dangerous."
    Another long pause.

    "Captain?" Pieter spoke into the silence. "Mind if we just finish charging and leave?"

    "I don't think so." Sheridan answered flatly. "I'm going to need you to shut down your systems and prepare to be boarded."

    "That's... That's just a total overreaction and..."

    "Any resistance will be met with lethal force. I strongly advise you to comply."
    He glanced over at Fran, both accepting the situation.

    "Powering down now Captain, I'll meet your people at the docking hatch."
    He killed the transmission and shared another look with his pilot, both thinking the same thing.

    "Shit."
     
    Chapter 3
  • Approaching Venus

    "Bearn, this is Phoenix flight, I have the targets in sight. Two contacts, large landing shuttles, they appear armed."

    "Copy that Phoenix, keep your distance and check them out." Their command vessel responded. "Do not fire unless fired upon."

    "Roger that, keeping station."

    Captain Dan Spencer watched closely as the main screen dominating the forward end of the bridge relayed images from his Starfury flight, the nimble craft dodging around the two inbound vehicles. They didn't match any known types but they looked decidedly human in origin, fat bodied aerospace craft with heavy delta wings upturned at the tips looking very similar to older generation heavy orbital lifters. These incoming craft however were much better armed and upon closer inspection about twice as big as the Earth Force equivalent.

    "This is Phoenix leader, we are being painted but not engaged yet."

    "Understood Phoenix, standby." Spencer grimaced. He had been warned by Captain Sheridan on the Lexington that the inbound ships could be hostile, and that their weapons and technology were unknown. Naturally that made Spencer cautious but if they got much closer to Venus they could threaten the scientific base there, and the old Centauri jump gate left there after Earth made its own version at Io. "Alright comms, give us a channel, the frequency Sheridan used."

    "Ready sir."

    "Unidentified vessels approaching my position, this is the Earth Alliance Starship Bearn requesting you cut engines and declare your intentions."

    There was no immediate answer, the two ships continued.

    "I say again, cut your engines and declare your intentions. If you do not we will open fire."
    That at least triggered a response, the two armed transports putting some distance between each other and angling for attack.

    "Last warning incoming vessels, cut engines and declare your intentions."

    "Captain, they are painting us along with the fighters!" The sensor officer warned. "Launch transient! Missiles in the sky!"

    "Interceptors, do your thing." Spencer grimaced, the range was pretty long which gave his interceptors a nice leisurely time to plink the incoming projectiles, but his guns couldn't respond yet. "Fighters, move to disable."

    "Phoenix flight, fangs out, taking target."

    The six fighters accelerated, focusing on the lead ship, the bulky vessel rolling to bring a top mounted turret to aim. All six craft broke into pairs and spread out, a bright spear of plasma arcing past.

    "Confirm plasma weaponry on hostile craft. Targeting engines."
    The leading Starfury made a quick pass, blue pulse cannons ripping into the rear of the transport.

    "Hit, that's some heavy armour though. Two, make your run."

    The second Starfury accelerated in only for it to shudder, then roll out of control spouting flames.

    "That's a laser cannon! Phoenix flight break off and reform!" The squad leader called out.

    "Phoenix flight defensive!"

    "Dammit." Captain Spencer growled through his teeth, lasers were a particular enemy for fighters, too fast to dodge and usually the preserve of frigates. Lasers on such a small ship was a nasty surprise. "Guns? In range yet?"

    "Any second now Captain, all weapons answering."

    "Target that lead ship and erase it from my sky."

    The Hyperion heavy cruiser bared its teeth, heavy pulse cannons making final tiny adjustments and leading the target a little, the incoming transport burning straight for them. Maybe it was suicidal bravery, maybe supreme confidence, maybe rank stupidity, but whatever the reason the transport craft still received a full pulse salvo to the face and instantly ceased to exist.

    "Target down, switching to second hostile."

    "Captain, the second ship just cut engines, they are signaling their surrender."

    "At least they have common sense." Spencer nodded. "Have Phoenix flight detach a fighter to see if their comrade ejected, other craft will put guns on that vessel."

    "Aye sir."

    "Inform our Marines to tool up and standby for some work."



    EAS Lexington
    Returning to Venus.


    Sheridan had decided, perhaps wisely, not to risk a hyperspace jump with his new prize, the fairly dainty Lucky Dip lashed to the upper hull of the Lexington with towing cables. It was a pretty ad hoc arrangement and not very safe in his view, the last thing he needed was to lose this unique new vessel to the mists of hyperspace.

    Still, the days long voyage had given his people time to look around inside the captured ship finding a mix of the familiar, the unusual, and the downright bizarre. He had taken some time to cross over himself, peering at the thick heavy consoles lining the flight deck of the relatively small jumpship with their keyboards and rows of switches.

    "Captain, what do you think?"

    He twisted to greet his engineering officer, Lieutenant Commander Gemma Harlow, a gruff almost perpetually grease stained old fashioned technician. He had no idea where she found grease on a space going heavy cruiser and had long since decided not to ask.

    "I think this belongs in a museum." He rotated in zero gravity to clear the way for the engineer. "This stuff looks like the Space Shuttle they have in Florida."

    "It does Captain, it does, but it's deceptive." Harlow gave the ship a little credit. "The controls are pretty, well, rustic, and the wiring is like a modern art painting, but the hardware underneath is pretty respectable."

    "How so?"

    "Bottom line? This ship is older than dirt, but it's still running. There is dust in the junction boxes that I think has been there since the Pyramids, and the safety warnings on the reactor deck were inscribed when Moses got the Commandments. But they work, this thing is so robust I cannot express in mere words how godlike the engineers who put this thing together were. It is perfectly idiot proof, which is lucky because looking at some of the patch jobs it's seen a lot of idiots."

    Sheridan could respect that, he knew Harlow to be utterly merciless when it came to her profession. If she was saying good things about this ship it was well earned.

    "Think you can get it working?"

    "I think it would be hard to break it." She retorted. "My only issue is the computer, it's old digital or analogue, our optical technology doesn't plug in. I think they do have some sort of optical tech because I've found some very suspicious 'entertainment' discs in the Captain's cabin, but the flight computer is built basic and functional. I'll need to jury rig an interface."

    "Whatever you need Commander." Sheridan nodded. "Whatever is in this thing, I think it's going to be the discovery of a lifetime."

    "Well if you want to bring the President aboard give me six hours to clean it up, this thing is built like a space Volvo but it smells like jockstrap."

    "I didn't want to say anything." Sheridan suppressed a grin. "I'll leave you to it, take whatever you need. I'll go have a long chat with our new guests."

    Sheridan took his time moving across the docking tube, the change from the grimy worn down transport to the Lexington was like night and day. Among the fleet the Lady Lex was considered an elderly ship, a first generation Hyperion Class cruiser getting on for three decades old now, but compared to the prize they had taken she was a virtual newborn.
    The brig was situated in the aft end of the main hull, the rows of cells accommodating the small crew of the cargo ship. There had been no trouble, the crew seemingly comfortable with a decent meal as the Lexington made her way back to base. Separate from the crew was the Captain, Sheridan nodding to the officer on duty to unlock the doors and let him through.

    "Captain Schwartzman." Sheridan offered a greeting, grabbing the handles just inside the doorway to arrest his motion in the zero gravity. "How are things? Did you get some lunch?"

    "I did, I should thank you. I mean it's been a while since I had liquidised everything but it was filling." The civilian grinned with his gold teeth. "Eating a three course meal through a straw, it's an experience."

    "Your ship is Zee-Gee too, what do you eat?"

    "Similar stuff but cheaper, and we do have a small wheel section so normal meals are fine. You don't have those?"

    "We do but this is a military ship, we don't always have the luxury of leaving our stations." Sheridan kept a watch on his prisoner. "Now the small talk is done I need your access codes for the computer on the Lucky Dip."

    "Just like that?" Pieter asked.

    "I believe in getting to the point."

    "Well, I can understand how you might want a look, I mean I figure you've been stuck here for what? Two or three hundred years?" Pieter reasoned. "History was never my thing."

    "How do you figure that?"

    "You're obviously Star League, nobody else has ships like this, not even the biggest powers." Pieter shrugged. "You hid out here when Kerensky left and just kept a low profile. But now I'm guessing your interested in knowing what life is like back out there. How am I doing so far?"

    "Pretty warm."

    "So you want to look at my Nav Charts, see where I've been, a get a feel for how strong the local powers are. Maybe head back to Earth and take over?"

    "That's a bit of a leap, but yes, we do want to gain intel on local star systems."

    "Then my friend you are talking to the right man!" Pieter beamed. "I've travelled to hundreds of systems, if you want to know about local cultures, customs, military power maybe too..." Pieter winked knowingly. "I have all that, and I am happy to share."

    "I'm glad to hear it. You can start with the access codes."

    "Well, you see, that might be a problem. You see I have a lot of private data on there. Bank codes, personal letters, my home video collection, stuff that no man needs to see apart from me. You get me don't you?"

    "What I do get, Captain, and what I think you're missing, is that you are a pirate and under arrest." Sheridan pointed out succinctly. "And your ship is the property of the Earth Alliance now."

    "I'm just a trader, I had no idea I was carrying..."

    "Cut the crap Captain, we took one of those transports and its crew alive, their story about how involved you were is pretty different."

    "You'd believe the word of a pirate?"

    "No, which is why I want those codes. We will just break in the old fashioned way but if you save us the time and effort it will look good at your trial."

    "I wouldn't be so hasty Captain." Pieter wagged a finger. "Those old jumpships, I mean you go messing around with the computers it could cook off the reactor. Even for a warship that's pretty bad."

    "You're right." Sheridan nodded. "You know your ship is about twenty meters that way?" He pointed to the roof of the cell. "Is that minimum safe distance?"

    Pieter cleared his throat. "Well, maybe in the interests of friendship and proving I'm not an actual pirate, maybe I can unlock the system. As a gesture of good faith. And not getting irradiated."

    "That's very magnanimous of you."

    "Yes, I'm a very magnanimous person." Pieter had no idea what Sheridan had just said but assumed it was a good thing. "Which means I won't go to jail?"

    "Don't push it."

    "I can't be your guide to the universe if I'm in jail now can I?" He wiggled his eyebrows. "Think about it, maybe we can talk after you take a peek into my nav logs. See what you're really getting yourselves into."



    Geneva, five days later.

    If anything the Presidential meeting room was even more packed than before, the room filled almost to bursting with assorted suits and uniforms. Once again the military sat to President Levy's right, but this time a gaggle of scientists were close on her left reflecting their new importance.

    "The prisoners have been highly cooperative." General Denisov began. "They were independent pirates and raiders unassociated with any of the named governments. They had no flight plan filed, have no FTL comms, and are very unlikely to be missed by anyone. For now at least our presence here appears to be unknown."

    "Are we any closer to defining where here actually is?"

    "We are Madam President." Professor Klein picked up. "We have unlocked the data banks within the ships we captured, both are centuries old and have an extensive record of places they have been and events that have transpired. The crews were also able to provide a potted history of the region and it is in equal measures disturbing and mind blowing."

    "I had to check my ears every five minutes to make sure my brain hadn't leaked out." Dr Ginelli guffawed a laugh before the silence made her quiet down. "That was a joke. Actually it would run out of your nose."

    Dr Klein stepped to take control of the narrative before Ginelli went on a tangent. "The bottom line is ma'am that we have not only moved through space, but also through time and if the history lines up across the boundaries of reality into an alternate version of the universe."

    "A sort of multiverse theory?" Levy asked. "Like that movie?"

    "Yes Madam President, except it now appears that it is no longer a theory."

    "We're calling it the Ginelli event, after me." The female scientist beamed a massive proud grin. "Because my machine broke everything."

    "According to the data we have gathered it is the year 3006." Klein had long since become used to the over excited scientist behind him. She was difficult to work with, impossible to control, but also the smartest person in a room of very smart people. "And even more unbelievably there are no aliens."

    "None contacted at least." Ginelli added. "Beside some basic life forms, animals, virus families. Nothing sapient. At least so far."

    "The maps we've seen show mankind in this reality has expanded by well over a thousand light-years in all directions, more than enough to encompass League, Narn, Centauri and we believe Minbari space. But there is nothing to show anywhere that those races ever existed." Klein shook his head. "Not a single one of dozens of encountered alien species."

    "So this galaxy is entirely human controlled?"

    General Denisov took over. "As far as we can tell It is Ma'am, but not regrettably united." Denisov inhaled deeply. "The situation is extremely tense Madam President, there are at least five major powers each controlling hundreds of star systems each, plus dozens of smaller powers. Most of them control more resources than we do, in the case of the larger powers several hundred times more."

    "The human population is estimated to be in the trillions." Lefcourt added. "With multiple highly developed planets far exceeding any of our old colonies."

    "Is there a version of Earth here?"

    "There is, though Terra is the preferred name." Lefcourt answered. "However it is no longer considered a major power base and controls virtually no territory. Though it does appear to retain influence in some scientific and communication fields."

    "The defining aspect of the galaxy as we can see it is that each civilization is recovering from a series of catastrophic wars." Denisov picked up. "At one time about two and a half centuries ago the galaxy did have a single overall ruler based on Earth, an entity known as the Star League. Unfortunately it collapsed after a coup and the subsequent disappearance of of the unified League military. Without the presence of a large neutral military to keep the peace regional powers began to try and gain greater control leading to what is known as the Succession Wars. By all accounts they were devastating beyond words."

    "The galaxy as it stands now is almost post apocalyptic." Lefcourt spoke grimly. "They went from a level of sophistication equal, and in many ways superior to our own, and have managed to lose almost all of their scientific and technical base."

    "That is not to say it is a wilderness out there." Klein cut in. "From what we can see many worlds still have a very comfortable standard of living and enjoy plenty of technology. The issue is they have lost the knowledge to understand much of that technology, they can reproduce it but have no idea how much of their machinery works."

    "Which also means they have stagnated, and can't replicate the science which was common before their wars." Ginelli seemed pained. "Simple things like water purification, pollution filtering, even the ability to grow sufficient crops to feed everyone... things we take for granted, have all been lost."

    "For every planet with a high standard of living there are dozens far worse off, and many that are barely above subsistence levels. Places were farms run on Oxen pulling ploughs, where men dig mines with hand tools and die before reaching middle age from simple ailments." Klein shook his head. "The galaxy simply does not have the knowledge or resources to alter that, not yet anyway, and the continued hostility of the surviving nations does not help."

    "We have identified five major powers and have a broad idea of their systems of government, none of them are ideal." Denisov ran through. "All of them run on a type of dictatorship with one man in charge, usual a member of some sort of Royal dynasty."

    "Feudalism came back with a vengeance." Ginelli hoped to simplify. "Things have gone medieval."

    "There are strong similarities to Medieval Europe and Sengoku era Japan." Klein agreed. "But it isn't that simple and you can see parallels to twentieth century communist despots and sixteenth century renaissance intrigue. Things are as complex as you'd expect from such a huge population."

    "I see." Levy was feeling another headache. "So the question is how do we proceed?"

    "What is inevitable is that we cannot simply remain here and hope to be unnoticed." Denisov spoke seriously. "We are vastly outnumbered by any of the main powers and they have all shown highly aggressive foreign policy. Taking things by force is commonplace, they have no hesitation in using military power if it suits their needs."

    "We also lack a means to strike back." Lefcourt stepped in again. "There is no jump gate network, no beacons, our ships cannot go more than half a lightyear or so using their current drive systems."

    "We have captured a local FTL drive, it is being secured at the Venusian science complex as we speak." Klein said. "Doctor Ginelli will be heading out there immediately to handle the research. As soon as we drain some of the caffeine from her bloodstream so she is safe to transport by spacecraft."

    "That's right." She nodded three times rapidly. "What?"

    "We also have two Explorer ships available to lay a new beacon network. That will let us travel but only along marked regions. We can lay a path to one, maybe two stars at a time, but setting up beacons for the entire galaxy would be impossible." Lefcourt shook his head. "We'd be talking thousands of years."

    "So it seems we will need to learn how to use the local jump systems then." Levy turned to Ginelli. "We'll be relying on you for the next step, Doctor."

    "I'm ready for it, Miss President." Ginelli grinned widely, then looked at the floor. "I put my shoes on the wrong feet."

    "Dr Klein." Levy looked to the older scientist. "Maybe go with her?"
     
    Chapter 4
  • Venusian Science Complex.

    Dr Ginelli's lab looked exactly as one would expect, it was as if a bomb made primarily of old coffee mugs and snack wrappers had been detonated and the results shoved roughly to the edges of the work space. As much as it matched the chaotic fashion sense of the scientist, the actual study area where Ginelli did her work was pristine, several expensive looking computers and pieces of technical equipment were hooked up to provide the Doctor with whatever she needed at that moment.

    Except, apparently, coffee.

    "Got your order."

    "What? Oh, great, just drop it on the desk and take some money from that pile."

    Vic Chapel placed the paper bag filled with no less than four coffee orders at the side of her work station, the wild hair of the scientist visible behind a large supercomputer she was crosswiring with the space station's own mainframe. He sat himself on the edge of her desk and waited patiently, patience being something he had plenty of in his line of work, until Ginelli emerged from her tinkering.

    "Oh, still here? Not enough money? There's eight hundred and forty two credits there. How much does coffee cost these days?"

    "My treat." Chapel smiled. "And you must be pretty confident in the integrity of your staff to just leave that much cash unguarded."

    "I am, they don't care about money." Ginelli walked out from behind the machine, her attire a random mix of colours and styles. "If they did they wouldn't be doing government work."

    That brought a genuine laugh to the broad man. "Point."

    "So I better ask, what's the head of the Earth Intelligence Agency doing delivering coffee all the way out here above Venus?"

    "So you recognized me."

    "My brain can do five complex tasks at once, sometimes things get crosswired, but I'm not as ditzy as people think. I saw you at the Presidential meetings looking all dour and serious."

    "It's how people expect me to be, black suit, frown, grumpy. But I'm not an ogre. Not to people I like anyway."

    "Awww, does that mean you like me?"

    "You're growing on me. I might like you even more if you let me borrow that FTL drive."

    "Sure, let's swap jobs for a week, imagine how great that would be! Me in charge of the entire Earth Alliance intelligence community." Ginelli grinned. "Imagine the hijinks! It'd be a great comedy film!" She kept smiling, but with understanding. "It would be funny as an idea, but a disaster in real life. And you must know the reverse is also true, surrendering what might be the most valuable single object humanity owns to some spies for shady reasons before we've cracked its secrets? What did you expect me to say?"

    "I expected you to say no." Chapel said honestly. "And then I was going to ask how long will it take until you didn't need it anymore?"

    "When I have a second working example."

    "What if I can get you a second working example?"

    "I'd be really thrilled." She tilted her head. "But to do that you need the first one don't you?"

    "I have an idea to go and take a look at wherever this ship came from. A little spy mission." Chapel related conspiratorially. "We need some hard intel on where we are, the records and statements from what are frankly a bunch of crooks isn't enough to make some serious policy decisions on."

    "And this is right now the only ship that can make the journey." Ginelli understood. "It's sixty light-years to the port of origin for this vehicle, that's at least six months to a year for an Explorer ship to lay a beacon pathway."

    "We might not have that long." Chapel nodded. "So I'll ask the President, and she'll say yes, but only if you say yes."

    "So you came here to buy me off with coffee?"

    "Worth a try, money seems pretty pointless." He smiled.

    "It's caffeine I like, not coffee, that's just the most acceptable means of acquiring it." Ginelli corrected. "At Uni I found a way to distil pure caffeine, used an eye dropper to take it neat."

    "How did that work out?"

    "My roommate found me under the floorboards sharing pie recipes with the ghost of Marie Curie." She shrugged. "After that I am now banned from anything besides coffee."

    "Right." Chapel was lost in thought for a moment. "Did she have any good cooking tips?"

    "No, they were awful." She dismissed with a wave. "Too salty. Anyway, to answer your question, give me a month."

    "Just a month?" Chapel raised an eyebrow. "You are confident aren't you?"

    She met his statement with a smile. "Of course I am. But this one isn't on me, the technology in this jump system is surprisingly straight forward. Perfectly elegant in its simplicity."

    "How does it work?"

    "Hmm, let me qualify that when I say 'simple' I mean in the context of hyperspace physics. Compared to our system it's simple, compared to walking, it's not." She prefaced. "But basically it's a hyperspace shunt. A packet of tachyons that creates a small but perfectly stable wormhole from point A to point B. It's beautiful, it's perfect, this is the hyperspace physics equivalent of the Sistine Chapel."

    "So why haven't we figured this out before now?"

    "Because tachyons are hard to study and in truth we still know very little about our own hyperspace technology." Ginelli answered. "We just copied what the Centauri gave us, and they got it from a gate they just found abandoned. The science needed to copy a jump gate is infinitely less than the science needed to invent it in the first place. Same here, I don't need to know the why, just the how."

    "And that's a month's work?"

    "Maybe less." She downed an entire cup of coffee in one go, something even the hardened spy chief had trouble accepted as real. "We jumped it to Jupiter and back to Sol, it's a deeply inefficient power system but the actual FTL mechanism is pretty simple, not too different to our communication relays. Most of the mass is just a big capacitor, we have better versions we can use, I think we can shrink this right down. Oh, and that solar sail recharge thing? We can beat that."

    "Sounds like you've got a lot of ideas."

    "Like spiders running behind my eyes." She nodded enthusiastically, the coffee kicking in. "In some ways it's better, the range and speed are superior, recharge rate is not good, very limited jump resolution though, needs perfect gravity balance, restricts where you can use it. No close planetary jumps. But no beacons, no Quantium 40."

    "So once you have the basics down, I can borrow the ship?" Chapel prompted.

    "Hmm, yes, that's good, let me get a lab prototype at least, got one cooking now, just need to test it, make sure it's not too salty like Curie's pies." Ginelli allowed. "I just need the projector, that's the new bit, it's incredible, so simple but amazing. Not even the Minbari have this, it's really good."

    "Can I help out in any way? Get you more resources?"

    "Nononononono." She shook her head swiftly. "My team have it under control. Plus the only other big project is the satellite guns, I want the satellite guns too, so let them work."

    "The Aegis defense grid." Chapel understood. "Heard those guns can kill a Minbari ship with one shot."

    "Yes, very happy with them." She gave Chapel a manic look. "The navy wanted them big, but you know what? I made them bigger. They don't need to be this powerful, it's totally overkill, but know something? I love big explosions."

    "Well I respect your commitment to, err, science." Chapel began to carefully move the remaining coffee away from Ginelli, a move she saw.

    "Ooh, coffee." She grabbed a second cup and again downed it in one.

    "How are you still alive?"

    "Can I tell you a secret?" She lowered her voice.

    "I'm not sure I want to..."

    "I don't think they even know what a Tachyon is here. I asked the engineers on that ship, and the navigator. I asked what initializes the point to point FTL translation, and know what they did? They pointed to this big red button and just said press it when the light comes on. These people are idiots, Vic. They are idiots."

    "But they cracked a superior form of FTL to ours, so somebody here must be smarter than we are."

    "Maybe they are still idiots, but we are bigger ones. Or maybe they just built these drives with no idea how they work. Or maybe I've had too much coffee and do I have eighteen fingers?"

    "No, you don't." Chapel smiled. "Are you safe near electricity?"

    "Yes, I'm in number crunching mode. I'll do sixteen hours work, sleep until Thursday, then build the lab test model."

    "Then I'll let your assistants look after you." Chapel stood up from the edge of the desk. "Take care, Doctor."

    "Come back in a month." She called after him. "And bring snacks!"



    Secure Facility
    Earth Intelligence Agency Black Site
    Luna


    "We'll have our ship in about three weeks." Vic Chapel addressed the various department heads, all of them gathered around a small table somewhere deep beneath the Luna surface. This facility was where Earth kept things it didn't want to answer awkward questions about, the most prominent right now being the Pirate crew apprehended a week earlier.

    "Are you sure Ginelli can deliver?" General Marcus of the EFNI raised a valid question. "She seems a little off."

    "She's as crazy as a box of monkeys." Vic nodded with a smile. "Highly caffeinated monkeys. But she's also the smartest person we have, if she says three weeks then we better be ready in two."

    "I can drum up a crew for the ships, my people have been putting both the Jumpship and Dropship through their paces." Marcus promised. "The pirates have been very helpful, honestly, I'd say they deserve a transfer to normal facilities once we go public with their existence."

    "As opposed to the six foot by two foot plot of land we were discussing last week?" Deputy Director Sanchez said blankly. "You all know where I stand on pirates."

    "Right on top of their graves." Deputy Tanaka smiled thinly. "But I agree, these individuals have been helpful. Once we're done with them I have no issues putting them in the general prison population."

    "It'll be a while before the President discloses the existence of other humans, right now the government is too busy getting people to understand we ain't in Kansas anymore." Chapel exhaled. "Let that settle in first."

    The population had figured out very quickly that something had fundamentally changed, the shifting of stars and appearance of a large purple nebula in the night sky weren't something the government could disguise. The initial panic had been managed and somewhat mitigated by the Press Office pushing hard the fact they were now safe from the Minbari and no longer in imminent danger of extinction. That had worked for a while, but people were now becoming concerned about the new dangers here, and the fate of those left behind on the colonies.

    For the time being Earth was focused on standing down from its planned evacuation and last stand and instead trying to find a more normal day to day reality. Industry reopened, the planetary economy very slowly adjusting to the fact it was never getting its foreign markets back. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, the Minbari war had already effectively isolated Earth from the rest of the galaxy and forced it to become self sustaining, but there were rare imports that now were unlikely to ever return. Most critically Quantium Forty, the element crucial for hyperspace travel.

    The highest levels of government were in a state of barely controlled mania, the board had been totally reset and while the removal of the Minbari as players was an incredible stroke of fortune, it was balanced by the reality that Earth might still be in existential danger. That was where the various security services came into play, with the military consolidating their forces that had been gathering to defend Earth on one side, and the more subtle agents of the intelligence community on the other.

    "Have we finalized our ground team?" Chapel asked. "Who's left?"

    "I want Jiang Li on this." Sanchez said firmly. "He's the best field agent we have left."

    "Samantha Kyle from my people." Tanaka put forward. "Blends into any situation."

    "And I'll send Ben Groves from my side for muscle." General Marcus finished up.

    "Works for me, get them up to speed." Chapel nodded. "But we will be sending someone else. Our friends in the Psi Corps..."

    That true groans from the room.

    "...will be deploying one of their own. I needn't tell you the advantages of having a telepath in the team."

    "Or the risks." Snachez grunted. "They'll always put their own interests ahead of Earth."

    "Maybe, but as far as we can tell telepaths don't exist here, that gives us a massive strategic advantage and we would be fools not to exploit it."

    "I'm guessing the President wants this?"

    "She does." Chapel nodded. "So take the necessary precautions, brief our people to keep their minds clear, and then proceed as ordered."

    "Under protest." Sanchez gave in. "What about a guide? Are we going to flip one of the pirates?"

    "We have no choice," Chapel wasn't thrilled either. "The Captain of the Jumpship has been offering to show us around for days in exchange for time off his sentence."

    "And I'm sure he won't try to make a run for it as soon as he lands back home." Tanaka chuckled. "Are we going to do the exploding head thing?"

    "Already done." Chapel laughed. "I told him we'd put a tiny explosive at the base of his skull that we'd detonate remotely if he did anything we didn't like."

    "And he bought it?"

    "Check the security footage, he's prodding the back of his neck every few seconds for hours." Chapel enjoyed the moment. "We'll send him along with the others, I'm sure Psi Corps will let us know if he's thinking of flipping on us."

    "Alright then, sounds like a mission." General Marcus concluded. "All we need is a ship."

    "Let the mad scientist do her job, and I'll see you all back here in two and a half weeks."
     
    Chapter 5
  • A Special Thankyou to @bullethead for his editing of these chapters to make them more presentable. You rock dude.



    Jumpship 'Lucky Dip'
    Cooperland Star System


    "This place is dead."

    "And buried." Agent Groves looked at the readings coming through from the refitted sensors.

    "Someone nuked this place flat."

    "That's the Succession Wars for ya!" Pieter Schwartzman, former Captain and current cultural advisor to the EIA recon mission tried to make it sound casual, like spilling milk. "They were handing out nukes like free candy from an unmarked crawler."

    "Radioactive decay confirms the timeline, about two centuries." Commander Arron Freeman read off the data. "The area near the former settlement is still hot, but the rest of the planet is perfectly habitable."

    "Something for the Explorer divisions then." Groves felt a little lighter. "I'd call this an excellent potential colony."

    "Maybe, the Survey ships can figure it out." Freeman set the idea aside. "We're not here for a full planetary survey, a preliminary long range scan is enough."

    "Fair enough." Groves shrugged, still feeling increasingly excited. "Hell of a thing though, perfectly good planet out there."

    "Just a little bit irradiated." Pieter chipped in, oblivious to his input being unwanted. "Almost as good as new!"

    Freeman ignored the previous owner of what was now his command. The Lucky Dip was a disaster from the outside, the hull worn and patched in a thousand places, but inside Earth Force had done a superb job stripping it down to the basics and replacing a lot of the old fittings with newer components. They had left the core systems intact, the power, propulsion and computer cores as nobody wanted to mess with those yet, but life support, sensors and communications had all been significantly upgraded. They had also added a few small hidden pulse cannons as a weapon of last resort.

    One thing they hadn't changed was the jump drive, the only currently functional version in Earth hands. Doctor Ginelli, true to her word had made a functional small scale version in the lab, a scaled down copy of the Kearny Fuchida principles as she could see them, but until she found a way to scale it up the Lucky Dip remained unique. Even so this mission had been considered vital enough the deployment of this priceless asset was approved by the President.

    Earth Force had tapped another element to the mission. On the way to the Tortuga Dominions the jumpship would have to stop off at three different star systems, all uninhabited. While the ship recharged its Jump drives using a massive solar sail to absorb energy from the local sun, a process taking at least six days, the mission would conduct a brief survey of the region and look for points of interest. Habitable worlds were certainly interesting, but of infinitely greater value were signs of Quantium 40.

    "I'll leave a beacon." Freeman headed over to one of the control consoles newly fitted to the bridge, the clean and shiny Earth Force technology standing out from the simpler original components around it. "The Explorer ships can use it to find their way here on the last part of their journey."

    That was another element of the mission, the Jumpship was also carrying a cargo bay filled with hyperspace beacons with orders to drop them at any location worth exploring. A single beacon wasn't enough to allow a hyperspace jump from Earth, not over the dozen or so lightyears, but did offer an end point for the slow laborious task of laying out a beacon path the Explorer ships were working through. Unfortunately the jumpships could only hop star to star, they couldn't lay the entire path, but it was at least a little help.

    "How long until we can jump again?"

    "About an hour to be safe sir."

    "Any sign of useful minerals?" Freeman phrased the point carefully, he didn't need Pieter hearing the word 'quantium' and getting ideas about it. That was still something unique to the EA.

    "No sir." Came the disappointing but not unexpected report. "Shall I transmit the sensor logs back to Command?"

    "Do so, then begin Jump Prep."

    The lack of Quantium 40 was a massive issue, Earth had a strategic reserve sufficient for about a hundred jump engines, or far fewer jump gates. While that sounded like a lot there was no reliable way to replace those stocks, once they were gone they were gone forever along with all the strategic advantages an alternate FTL method brought. It was likely the Quantium element existed, it had probably just been classified as dangerous and useless by the locals, but finding it at home had been extremely difficult. Out here...

    "Signal away sir."

    "Very good, begin calculations for our next destination. Two more jumps to Tortuga." Freeman tightened his lips at the idea. "Then we see how lax their security is."



    New Haiti
    Tortuga Dominion
    Two weeks later.


    The stolen dropship hung above the planet, the mildly aerodynamic brick awaiting a bit of free sky to make its dash to the surface. There wasn't anything resembling formal air traffic control, this planet wasn't sophisticated enough for that, a pilot just saw a gap and dived for the dirt.

    "So when we hit the deck, just leave it all to me." Pieter tried to get the rest of the team to go along with him. "I know the planet, I know a lot of the locals, I can get us all what we want and then back home safe."

    "Because you are an honest trader." Jiang Li, the mission commander harbored a healthy skepticism. "Who would never betray his employers?"

    "Who was that guy who hired you that you let eat plasma cannon?" Groves wondered innocently. "The guy who's dropship were in right now?"

    "That was different, nobody liked him, least of all me." Pieter beamed his trademark golden smile. "But you guys are different, firstly I actually quite like you, second, I am genuinely terrified of what you'll do to me."

    "Good." Li nodded. "But you forgot something."

    "Really? What's that?"

    "If you do right by us and we get the President to pardon you, which we might," Li explained, "then you get to live on our planet. Fresh running water, clear blue skies, good food, nobody trying to shoot you in the back... think about it."

    "That, errr, well, yeah... that." Pieter had to genuinely stop for a minute. "I mean if I turned you in I'd be rich, I could live like a king... but king of a shithole."

    "Kings don't usually live long either." Li added. "And you still couldn't buy with all the money on this planet what we'll give you for free. A good life, and if we like you enough a job with us. You won't need to worry about anything for the rest of your life. How much is that worth?"

    The ship lurched before Pieter could answer, the dropship seeing it's opportunity and taking it.

    "All stations better strap in, we'll be going in hot." The pilot calmly announced.

    "Express elevator to hell..." Groves began before Li cut him off.

    "Yeah, yeah, we all know. Buckle up."

    Earth Force had made sure it had assigned its best, and that usually meant craziest, assault shuttle pilots to this mission. The Leopard class dropship was far larger than the standard Hades class attack shuttle and the pilots had been training extensively to get a feel for the bigger flying brick, but each had found the new toy exhilarating. It could take far more punishment than their shuttles and they greatly enjoyed pushing it to the edge of its envelope.

    Consequently the descent was rapid to say the least, the dropship maintaining supersonic velocity until the last possible moment before the pilots snapped the nose up, blasted the retro thrusters and let aerobraking do the rest. It was very loud and showy, but also not out of place. A careful precise approach might have looked too professional, like the ship was being flown by military officers and not mostly drunken pirates. Ironically drawing attention also let them fade into the rest of the noisy random background ships putting down on the outskirts of the main settlement.

    "Okay." Pieter exhaled, his fingers in a death grip around his seat harness. "All your pilots fly like that?"

    "They do if you want to avoid Minbari air patrols." Groves shrugged. "Long story."

    "Alright." Li squared up for the task. "Alpha team will head into town and acquire up to date intel however we can. Bravo team will standby at the ship and be ready to bail us out if things go sideways."

    Bravo team in this instance being a platoon of commandos with a quartet of fast attack trucks.

    "Quick and clean, Pieter, you stay close to Groves. Mr Bester, you stay close to me."

    The final member of their team gave a small smile and nod, a perpetual smirk never far from his features. Pieter wasn't entirely sure what this guys deal was, but it was evident nobody on the ship was especially happy with him.

    "You're up Pirate Piet, take point, we'll follow your lead."



    New Haiti was just as wet and humid as he remembered, stepping into ankle deep mud a timely reminder of why he had chosen a life of space faring. The spaceport, as the muddy field called itself, was a mess of random ships, most of them small, all of them sitting wherever they wanted. The only common factor was they all had to pay a tithe to the local boss if they wanted to sit and do business here.

    "We better talk to the dockmaster." Pieter pointed at a grimy building at the edge of the field standing in front of the eclectic town. "You bring the bribe money?"

    "I got it." Groves nodded. The team had dressed as Pieter suggested, hardy but worn clothing and unkempt hair. They were all experienced field agents and could alter their body language and attitude to avoid standing out, but they were still heavily reliant on Pieter for culturally cues. That was a potential vulnerability none of them were thrilled about.

    "You!" A booming voice bellowed across the field. "You scrawny shitbeetle! Get over here!"

    Pieter put on his best smile and turned to face the voice. "Brad! Have you lost weight? You look great!"

    "You pussed out! How the fuck are you back here?" Brad was a fat but clearly strong brawler, bad tempered, badly dressed and clearly not happy. "You owe me! You said...!"

    "It's all cool, check it out." He gestured to Groves. "My new assistants."

    Brad gave them all a menacing look. "I don't care, you owe..."

    "Brad here is the Dockmaster, and he's not going to list our arrival."

    "The hell you talking about?"

    "You won't list our arrival, because here is double what I owe you." He gestured to Groves who put a hefty bag in his hands. "All in nice untraceable gold coins. Gold Brad, actual gold."

    The big man took the bag, had a look in, blinked, then hung it on his belt.

    "Welcome to New Haiti random people I've never seen before."

    "Attaboy Brad, you were always were smart."

    Pieter led them past the Dockmaster, Brad pausing a second to call after them.

    "Hey, that was Tomas' dropship wasn't it?"

    "One of them, yeah."

    "So he ain't coming back then?"

    "Only as a dream, or vapour on the solar winds."

    "Huh." Brad nodded. "Good, I owed him ten grand. Enjoy your stay."

    The settlement itself was barely standing, its square hastily assembled buildings mostly uncared for showing a patchwork of repairs slapped on with no real skill. Some places were abandoned, some collapsed or burned out and just left where they had fallen. Despite that the place was busy, its crushed stone roads, dirty and littered, thronged with people. Most seemed to be just as shady as Pieter, but considerably more drunk.

    "This is a bandit town, where pirates trade their spoils and set up the next job." Pieter gave them the tour. "Sometimes you get farmers selling food but not so much, they usually stick to market towns."

    "How big is this place?" Li asked, keeping his eyes moving from threat to threat.

    "About fifty thousand people, decent enough." Pieter led them through the streets. "Tortuga itself is about a quarter million."

    "Not huge colonies then?"

    "Big enough for here. It's all either pirates or farmers, and the farmers can barely feed themselves." Pieter shrugged. "These aren't great worlds."

    They moved a little further through the streets until the ragged buildings finally opened up into a central plaza, the administrative centre of the planet such as it was. The building had at least been painted a few times which marked it as superior to anywhere else they had seen so far, but what really caught their eye was a massive metal bipedal warmachine crouched beside the structure.

    "Holy shit." Groves whispered.

    "Yeah, yeah." Pieter misinterpreted the exclamation. "It looks like crap next to all your shiny SLDF machines I bet, but it can still fight."

    "A Battlemech." Bester recalled from the scant data recovered from the Jumpship. "Did we all know they were that big?"

    "It's only a medium." Pieter shook his head. "You guys never seen one close up?"

    "We aren't army." Samantha set up a convenient lie. "They get bigger?"

    "Yeah, sure, there's a whole bunch on Tortuga. Dozens of them."

    "And they're good in a fight?" Bester asked.

    "Of course they are, you guys really don't get around much do you?"

    They stopped in front of a worn looking shop, Pieter turning to grin at them, an expression so common now it meant nothing. "This is it. Walt's Emporium."

    "This?" Li glanced at the building. "What does he sell?"

    "Cigarettes." Pieter answered. "And information on the side. If you want something, he knows it."

    Li wasn't convinced but had nowhere else to start. "Alright, Sam, Bester, with me. Groves, stay out here and keep an eye open. You too Piet."

    "You don't want me to introduce you guys? Negotiate?"

    "Mr. Bester is all the negotiator we need." Li opened the door. "I don't think we'll be long."

    The trio headed in leaving Pieter and Groves to hang around outside and watch the activity in the plaza. It was busy, but there was a definite lack of vehicles, just a few grimy looking trucks chugging past mostly loaded with bandits.

    "Not much to do out here huh?" Groves peered around. "Apart from the booze."

    "Not much, I mean we don't got a bunch of TV like nicer places get." Pieter related. "But people don't come here to watch TV."

    "There much money in piracy?"

    "Sure, if you are good enough or scary enough." Pieter watched a gang of louts yelling amongst themselves. "Mostly though it's low pay and a lot of getting dead. Worst ain't even running into an armed gunship, it's the other pirates."

    "No honour among thieves?"

    "Not out here, if you're weak you're dead, or worse."

    He nodded toward a group of people in raggedy clothes, even for this planet they looked in awful health. They were shifting rocks onto a horse drawn cart, it was like a scene from centuries ago if not for the robotic warmachine parked just beyond.

    "What's up with them?"

    "Slaves." Pieter said simply. "Sometimes when places get raided they take the people as well as the cargo."

    Groves gave Pieter a sideways look. "Slavery? Seriously?"

    "See for yourself."

    It was hard to deny it, the gaggle of worn out men toiled while a pair of brawny bandits directed them, each holding a hefty stick to administer beatings.

    "Why take slaves?"

    "Labourers, cheap workers to plough the fields." Pieter's face was blank. "If they take women, well, that's for a different type of ploughing."

    "And nobody stops this?"

    "Who would? The Davions? They can't garrison every planet and never react fast enough." Pieter shrugged. "They won't invade here, these planets are worthless, they need those armies watching the real threats. Just the way it is."

    The door opened behind them, the eternally smug Bester leaving the shop sorting through a handful of datacards. Pieter had to suppress a gasp.

    "How much did you pay him?"

    "I was very convincing." Bester put away the data, the other two following. "We should head back to the ship."

    "Agreed, lets get this stuff uploaded and transmitted back home." Li reassembled the group.

    "We'll stay here a week or so, monitor traffic and local forces, then see if command wants anything else from us."

    "We may have something to discuss when we get back." Groves lowered his voice. "Things are worse out here than we guessed."

    "We'll send everything back to Earth including our personal reports." Li looked to the battlemech. "And observations on that thing."



    Earthdome
    Geneva


    "That would be the full report." Vic Chapel concluded, for a change the Presidential conference room far emptier than usual. "We still have people on site if we need anything more specific, but my assessment is that there's little else we can learn right now."

    "Slavery? Piracy? A real bandit kingdom?" President Levy had trouble believing it. "How far has humanity fallen here?"

    "No more than back home." General Denisov remained grim. "Given opportunity the worst of us will find a way to indulge their nature. It appears there is no one to punish these pirates, or to free their captives."

    "Because the local powers lack the ability, or lack the willpower?"

    "Perhaps both." Chapel answered. "The up to date geopolitical information we acquired confirms that the big players, the Succession states, are in a constant stand off with each other. It is unlikely any of them can deploy a punitive expedition against this pirate kingdom."

    "Despite pirates kidnapping their citizens for slavery?"

    "There have been attempts, but the ability of even the biggest nations to project meaningful power is scant." Denisov shook his head. "They have no warships, their navy is limited to system patrol ships. They don't have the scientific or industrial power to make more, and without them power projection becomes extremely difficult."

    "The damage inflicted in past wars was almost total, we need more information but galactic society has regressed considerably, in many ways they are behind us despite being nearly a thousand years older." Chapel explained. "And billions are paying the price for it."

    "Is there anything we can do?" Levy asked.

    "That would be your decision to make Madam President."

    There was of course one obvious thing she could do, send in the Marines. It would normally be the obvious answer to Raiders and Pirates, especially those who took slaves. But these weren't strictly speaking her people, and if she did intervene she would have to see the job to the end. The complete destruction and pacification of the Tortuga Dominion.

    "What would it take to send a mission to New Haiti?" She asked. "And maybe beyond?"

    "About eight months to lay a beacon path." Denisov had already checked with the Explorer Division anticipating this line of questioning. "We have sufficient military forces for an attack, while our fleet was massively reduced by the Minbari we have enough operational ships to take and hold several targets."

    "And ground forces?"

    "Our armies are ready and available."

    "Can they win?" Levy asked the real question. "Regressed or not there's enough technology laying around that random pirates have access to military grade weaponry and vehicles. All of which are centuries more advanced than our vehicles."

    "It is impossible to say for sure, but we have orbital supremacy and I'd put the training and fighting spirit of our men and women above any pirates." Denisov displayed no doubt or question. "This is a worthy mission, and after so much grief fighting the Minbari maybe what we need is a genuinely good fight for the right reason against a purely evil enemy."

    "If we commit, we'll have to take them all, all six planets in the cluster." Chapel warned. "Thats a major campaign, the populations aren't huge but these pirates are very well armed."

    "And it will take months to set up beacons across that region." Denisov added. "Those planets are a fair distance apart."

    "But they are temperate habitable colonies, run down but if we get rid of the pirates I think the locals will see us as liberators bringing them a far better life." Chapel noted more optimistically. "We need to expand, increase our resources and industry. We won't stay hidden forever and we need to be ready for contact with the real big boys."

    "Taking out a bunch of pirates preying on the locals might even give us some goodwill." Levy considered. "Improve our position in any diplomacy."

    "Returning any slaves or captives that want to go home would be a good policy." Chapel reasoned. "If you give the go order Madam President."

    "Be aware Ma'am that people will die in this operation, potentially a lot of people." Her senior General emphasized to make sure the point was clear. "We will take casualties."

    "But in so doing destroy a slave state on our doorstep, liberate millions, and expand our influence." Levy considered that very carefully. It was morally right and offered tangible benefits, but if they were wrong it could be another blood soaked disaster.

    In the end though Levy was one to look for the good, not the bad, and even now after everything she couldn't change her heart.

    "Make your plans General. As soon as the beacons are placed, we liberate those worlds."
     
    Chapter 6
  • Nine Months Later
    New Haiti


    There had been a pause in activity after the Event, a period of time where the Earth Alliance had to work out not just what had happened, but what must happen next. Deliverance from the Minbari had come at a price, the divestment of Earth's place in the universe, of all it had worked at and created. For many it was a small price to pay, some even believed it was perfect, the galaxy had abandoned Earth so let Earth abandon them.

    But for many others Earth was now adrift and lost, without a path anymore. It was a second chance but one that brought its own mysteries and perils. President Levy had focused mostly on resetting the Solar system in the wake of the Minbari war, shifting from a total war economy to something new, one focused on meeting the needs of their new insular reality and restoring their defenses. The fleets and armies were repaired and growing, the population settling into a more normal life again, but always there remained the same question. What next?

    After months of asking there was finally an answer, one that not only placed Earth squarely in this new galaxy but consequently removed the nearest and most obvious threat. The pirates of Tortuga might have been a speck in the distance to the massive powers of the galaxy, but they were neighbors to Earth and dangerous ones. President Levy didn't want them stumbling on the slowly expanding Earth Alliance and causing trouble, the full capabilities of any local technology were still unknown and Earth Force didn't want to tempt fate. That hadn't gone well with the Minbari.

    The pirates had to go, and it had to be on Earth's terms. It was the best strategic move, the wisest political play, and morally correct. Few on Earth were keen to see another war begin, but eliminating pirates had ultimately been the reason Earth Force had been founded. Hopefully mopping up some scoundrels on a half dozen worlds and freeing all their slaves would justify the strong anti war sentiment present after dodging the Minbari.

    "Clock is at T minus ten minutes." Commander Freeman checked the synchronized displays across the bridge of the jump ship, his entire crew poised for action. They had been watching this system for the last several months while the Explorer ship laboriously laid a beacon path from Sol, a straightforward but very painstaking task. It had given them time to properly map the system, their stolen dropship engaging in some basic trading as cover for a more detailed survey of New Haiti itself. They had kept a low profile, their ground team doing the same, a few coins in the right hands keeping them off the radar as the methodically revealed every relevant detail of the planetary defenses.

    They had also gone beyond New Haiti investigating Tortuga itself, the seat of government such as it was. As the largest planet in the cluster it had superior defenses and plenty of irregular forces, but there was no coordinated defense, no standing fleet or army, just pirate bands. The stolen ship and its military crew had remained completed undetected, the element of surprise confirmed.

    "Task Force coming into range." The comms officer reported. "Requesting data link."

    "Do it." Freeman approved, tying his sensors to the incoming Earth Force fleet. "Any reaction from the planet?"

    "Not a thing, our dropship is in orbit over the target zone. All quiet."

    Their stolen jumpship had nowhere near the thrust to actually survey the planet, like most ships of its type it was limited to simply remaining more or less wherever its FTL jump left it. Freeman had instead been monitoring traffic in and out, a few ships per week usually. This system was clearly not very important, at least not until right now.

    "Task Force signals it is in position, beginning jump sequence."

    "Monitor their arrival, once they are in system plot our own course back to Tortuga." The Commander ordered. "We don't want to get mixed up in a fight with this bucket."



    Everyone knew that warships no longer existed. Everyone knew that the last of the great vessels had fallen lifetimes ago, consumed in nuclear fire like so much else, lost to history with all the other glories of mankind. They had passed beyond living memory, existing only as images on a screen or passages in books, the once awe inspiring Queens of space extinct and unlikely to return. Unlikely though did not mean impossible.

    The Lexington emerged from hyperspace a sensible distance from New Haiti, the location marked by a hyperspace beacon transmitting from the stolen dropship sitting on the planet's surface. Several thousand miles away the EAS Bearn also arrived bracketing the planet between the two heavy cruisers. Their arrival was a declaration, a beginning, one that would not be pleasant for everyone concerned.

    "Open channels, all bands." Captain Sheridan took a quick breath to prepare himself, he was about to address people who had never heard or seen anything like this before and he didn't want to squeak out his first words. "Attention to the local administration and all ships in orbit of New Haiti. I am Captain John Sheridan of the Heavy Cruiser Lexington." He carefully made sure to omit any broader identifying information. "We require any bandit or pirate vessels to surrender immediately and prepare to be boarded. We require the planetary government to surrender and submit to arrest and trial on charges of piracy. These terms are non-negotiable, failure to comply will be met with lethal force."

    He cut the channel and turned to his First Officer. "Status?"

    "All weapons fully armed and tracking, Starfuries launching."

    "Any sign of planetary defenses or orbital threats?"

    "None Captain."

    "Give the all clear to the second group."

    Intel had indicated the planet was essentially defenseless but Earth Force Command wasn't going to just take that on faith. The two cruisers had arrived first to draw any fire and suppress anything that looked like it could hurt them. With the intel confirmed and the area secure the second wave of ships could arrive, the main body of the Task Force.

    Emerging from a fresh vortex was the main support element, the Avenger class Carrier Akagi with the Assault ship Tarawa, a modified Hyperion with a vastly expanded hanger bay hauling a battalion of Marines. With them arrived a trio of conventional troop ships and a handful of cargo vessels with the supplies to keep the force operational.

    "Main force has arrived Captain, no enemy action." Commander Carroll watched his screens very closely. "Multiple ships are running for the departure nodes, I'm hearing a lot of comms traffic with the jumpships."

    "Trying to negotiate a way out." Sheridan guessed.

    "Shall we jam them? Move to intercept?"

    "Negative, there are no long range comms out here according to our informant. If we want the Tortuga Pirate King to know what we're doing and react we have to let these ships go. Most of them anyway." He checked the tactical map, a dozen red dots showing dropships breaking orbit and burning for all they were worth. "Scan those ships for life signs, command said these pirates were slavers too. If they are trying to run with slaves we'll intercept them."

    "Still no answer from the planet Captain."

    ""No surprise, but we need to go by the book." Sheridan nodded. "Signal the Tarawa, tell them they're clear to begin landing operations."

    "Aye sir."

    "And wish them good hunting."



    Earth Force had conducted a lot of planetary assaults, both as practice missions and real combat drops. From the massed assaults of the Dilgar war to the more covert and hasty reinforcement drops of the Minbari war the process had been refined to the point where it was a flexible and smooth operation. Starfuries from the carrier flew combat patrols as the assault ship began to open its bay doors and clear the path for her assault shuttles. The Lexington and Bearn stood off and formed a perimeter to intercept any hostile vessels trying to interfere, though of course no such ships were expected, while the Tarawa herself swung her guns to point at the planet in support of the attack. Orbital support was restricted as this was supposed to be a liberation, not an obliteration, but the big pulse cannon turrets and missile tubes stood ready anyway. Just in case.

    From the bays of the Assault ship the first wave of Hades shuttles launched, long triangular lifting bodies similar to the smaller Peregrine shuttle but much larger and more capable. Each Hades carried a full company of infantry or a platoon of four vehicles, the Tarawa able to land a full mechanized Battalion in a single drop. Starfuries from the Akagi escorted the shuttles to the edge of the atmosphere covering them from interception, then had to pull back and leave the shuttles to make the final descent alone.

    "Three minutes!" Staff Sergeant Michael Garibaldi yelled over the thunder of the descent, the floor of the shuttle definitely feeling warmer beneath his feet. His squad was strapped tight in their seats, rifles clipped to the frame of the chair by their side, all of them feeling like they were in a washing machine on its last cycle in a burning building. The shuttle jolted hard as it hit some turbulence, a couple of men further in the ship bringing their lunch back up as a result. Garibaldi never ate before a drop, his father had told him enough horror stories from his time in the Dilgar War to ensure Michael knew all the tricks of not looking a fool in front of his squad.

    They were all young, at twenty eight Garibaldi was almost the oldest man in the Company outside the command staff. They were conscripts mainly freshly drafted to fight the last battle against the Minbari, the final stand on Earth against the invaders. All the veteran infantry were deployed out in the Colonies giving the Minbari hell or were held in reserve on Earth. As important as this mission was, it was apparent to most of the people in the shuttle Earth Force wasn't going to deploy the last of its elite soldiers on a possible one way trip. Garibaldi's unit was expendable and they all knew it, as Sergeant he had to keep them motivated and ready to fight in spite of it.

    "When we touch down remember to run left!" He shouted over his shoulder, other NCOs likely doing the same across the battalion. "That's left, Marlow!"

    There were a few nervous laughs.

    "The ground is soft and flat, it's a landing zone and that's what they all look like! Clear the backwash, hit the dirt and stay there until the shuttle climbs, then get up and head for the ridge you should see in front of us!" Garibaldi and the rest of the platoon had already been told this, but it didn't hurt to drum it all in again. "Stay low, mark your targets and watch for civvies! We're here to free this planet, let's get it right first time!"

    The lights inside turned red, the clear visual indicator that they were about to land.

    "This is it, remember, go left, get clear, get flat! After me!"

    The shuttle bucked hard as the pilot slammed on the retro thrusters and pulled up the nose bleeding off speed extremely quickly. Even securely belted down Garibaldi could feel his body trying to slide out of his seat onto the floor, blood flowing down to his ankles. The compartment was windowless but he could imagine the rushing of air outside, the clearing of the skies, the ground rushing up to meet them.

    The actual landing was much gentler than expected, the pilot apparently one of the better of his breed. At once the big doors at the back dropped open giving the company of soldiers their exit. Garibaldi hit the release for his seat belts, unclipped his rifle with rapid precise movements, and ran for daylight. Two platoons went left, two went right, all of them getting well clear of the still roaring engines on the upper rear hull of the shuttle not far above their heads. The ground was not simply soft, it was muddy as hell forcing the troops to fight the ground in order to clear the take off zone, Garibaldi throwing himself flat and checking the horizon for movement.

    The shuttle throttled up only a few dozen yards away, its belly still glowing slightly red from the heat of re-entry, splashes of water from the ground hissing and sizzling against the tiles. It pulled itself out of the mud with some serious effort and began to climb, Garibaldi and the rest keeping flat with their faces down as the hot engine wash blasted by them.

    "Third platoon! Move up!" Their Lieutenant, Curt Meitner, threw his hand forward toward their objective, a low ridge at the edge of the zone. "Hold at the summit!"

    "You heard the man, up and move!" Garibaldi extricated himself from the mud, feeling the humidity for the first time. This was going to be nasty, he hated jungle warfare and this felt like it was going to be a jungle planet. "Watch your spacing!"

    The entire platoon was filthy, dropping in the mud and then getting sprayed by the engines of the departing shuttle and drenched them all. On the one hand it was an effective extra layer of camouflage, on the other it meant they probably weren't going to feel dry until they got back on the ship. The platoon moved as swiftly as it could, their shuttle turning away into the clouds impossibly slowly. Garibaldi watched it and a few others from the first wave heading back into space for a moment before focusing on the task at hand. Behind them was the rumble of more Hades dropping out of the sky, these ones carrying the company of tanks attached to the Battalion as heavy support. So far all was quiet but the arrival of the heavy armor was a huge boost to the otherwise isolated infantry.

    The infantry laboriously climbed the ridge, the heat and humidity making it a far harder task then it had to be, and stopped at the summit laying down at the edge to survey the land beyond.

    "Nothing." Marlow scanned the distance. "Just trees."

    "And how do you know what's in those trees?" Garibaldi asked while checking himself. Beyond their landing zone, which now Garibaldi checked looked a hell of a lot like a massive crater, was a sea of trees. It was not a great position, the trees would obscure any attack and seriously cut down their fields of fire. "You keep your eyes wide open, watch your sections and call out any movement. Could be anything out there."

    "Fifty credits says dinosaurs." Private Berry threw in. "Any takers?"

    "I'm going for giant spiders." Marlow threw in to a series of groans.

    "What about you Sarge, you in?" Berry set up a tally.

    "Yeah, put me down for Hula girls." He grinned. "Let's be optimistic, right?"

    "Right." Berry gave Marlow a slap across his shoulder. "Giant spiders man?"

    "If I'm right you'll be sorry."

    "Amen to that." Garibaldi heartily agreed. "Stay here, I'll get our gear sent up."

    He only had to walk a little further back to find his Lieutenant, the fresh faced officer standing with the rest of the Battalion command. Garibaldi stood back, let the officers do whatever they did, and waited for Meitner to notice him.

    "All good Sergeant?"

    "Platoon is deployed sir, no one left behind on the ship, not even Marlowe."

    "That just cost me ten credits." The Lieutenant jokingly sighed. "Alright Sergeant, head back up and I'll sort out our supply drop."

    "Thank you sir."

    "And watch out for brass, the General is checking out the ground, try to make us look good if he walks past our part of the line."

    "Operation shove a sock in Private Marlow's mouth is a go sir." Garibaldi grinned. "Any word on hostiles sir?" He took a guess what the officers had been discussing.

    "They are moving, about two hundred miles north." Meitner answered. "Expect contact tomorrow morning, but we'll probably have scouts during the night. Keep alert and dig in for a long wait."

    "Got it sir." Garibaldi nodded then jogged back up to his position to get busy digging.




    It took about a hour for the platoon's gear to arrive, the initial landing bringing only their weapons and whatever they could cram into their combat harness. With the landing zone secure and defended the bigger, slower transports began to land, massive Condor long range heavy lifters bringing down the rest of the Alliance forces and their baggage. A field kitchen, hospital, command post, engineering troops, observers and communication uplinks. They also brought down the heavy equipment each platoon was assigned including the beloved remote gun turrets and missile racks.

    "Site them on the ridge." Garibaldi picked optimal spots on the broken ground. "I want them dug in properly, nice clear lines of fire. Do not half-ass this! Those things will save your life!"

    He watched with approval as his people did as told, clearing a depression on the forward slope and laying in the tripod mounted CPPG weapon, a heavier version of the standard Phased Plasma rifles each man carried. They reinforced a parapet around it and threw over camouflage netting, the sheet masking it both visually and from heat sensitive scans.

    "Good work, those guns are worth more than you are!" He joked to keep the mood light, physical labor in these tropical conditions was not helping morale. "You'll feel better when you see them open up, two of those things wiped out three full Minbari platoons on New Berlin. Lit 'em right up."

    "What about the missiles Sarge?" Berry asked, the man dripping sweat.

    "Dig them in further back, they don't need line of sight but make sure shrapnel can't hurt them. Intel says the enemy has some sort of combat robot so we'll be needing them."

    "Combat robot?"

    "That's what I heard." Garibaldi shrugged. "The tanks'll handle it but keep those missiles safe just in case they don't."

    "Got it Sarge."

    They were a good platoon, fresh but at least Meitner and himself had enough experience to keep them confident and focused. He took a moment to look back at the landing zone, very clearly a multi mile wide crater with the ridge representing the lip of the impact. He guessed it was a good sized asteroid, but couldn't rule out someone doing this deliberately. Their pre-drop briefing had said the powers in this galaxy or reality or whatever had nearly armageddoned each other, so maybe this was man made.

    Right now though it was a hive of frantic activity, the organized and directed performance of a full brigade deployment. The Logistics Corps was nothing if not fast, the bulky troopships having enough heavy lift transports to put the entire force down in one go once they area was safe. Two more mechanized Battalions had touched down and were taking positions elsewhere around the crater. Bulldozers were up on the ridge creating pits for the tanks to move into when necessary, and in the middle artillery and air defense vehicles were setting up to keep the front line covered.

    They had no air support yet, until they took enough space to lay a runway they couldn't bring in Banshee multirole jet fighters, but they expected VTOL gunships to arrive once the engineers established a prefab base for them. Ultimately it didn't matter too much as sitting above them, a tiny speck in the sky, was the Tarawa and her heavy pulse cannons. All in all it was a solid position, and it had to be. While local forces were irregulars they had no idea if the troops on Tortuga itself were professionals, or close enough. The point of this whole operation was to draw out the main enemy force, get them away from civilian settlements, and then destroy them with massed firepower.

    Approaching voices drew his attention back to his immediate surroundings, a gaggle of officer types marching along binoculars in hand waving at the jungles. One was the Battalion commander, and guessing by how quicky he was trotting behind the leader of the group he guessed he was about to run into the overall commander of the mission.

    "Afternoon Sergeant." The leading officer nodded, Garibaldi seeing the dull rank emblems stitched on his chest.

    "Good Afternoon Brigadier." Garibaldi observed both his Colonel and Lieutenant Meitner hovering nearby with a look of incredible anxiety on their faces.

    "Your men are well dug in, must have been hot humid work eh?"

    "Yes sir, it was sir."

    The General broke a sideways smile. "Relax Sergeant, we're in the field now, no need to be so stiff out here."

    "Yes sir." Garibaldi could feel his Colonel's eyes drilling into him. "It's hot as hell and the boys have done nothing but bitch."

    "Ha!" The General snapped a laugh. "If they're complaining that means they're still breathing! I'll take it!"

    Garibaldi grinned too, this brigade was a new assignment and he knew nothing about the other elements of it, but at least their commanding officer wasn't a stuck up asshole.

    "You seen much action Sergeant?"

    "Two tours, New Berlin and Ross."

    "Hard fighting there lad." The General betrayed a Scottish drawl. "Heard there wasn't much left of Ross when we pulled back."

    "No sir, not much at all. But we made the bastards pay for it."

    "Let's hope they're doing better back where we left them." The General spoke bitterly, his tone betraying his lack of confidence in his words. "We're staying here Jack, get me a line to the Navy!" he yelled back at his staff. Garibaldi's Colonel escalating from anxiety to dread.

    "Take a look out there Sergeant." The Brigadier pointed at the jungles. "What do you think?"

    "I think you could lose an army in that jungle sir." Garibaldi answered honestly. "And if they make good time and decide to hit us in the dark our perimeter sensors probably won't see them coming."

    "Exactly right Sergeant, you'd make a good officer."

    "Not my style sir, never could figure which silver spoon to use first at Mess functions."

    "Very fair." The General scanned the horizon with his binoculars. "No, I don't like that jungle at all. Jack, where's my phone?"

    "Sir." A Major trotted up and gave the General a field telephone tied to the comms truck back in the middle of the crater. He grabbed the phone and pressed it to his ear, eyes still fixed to the binoculars.

    "Big Sky this is Mud Hopper, receiving?"

    "Mud Hopper, go for Big Sky." A crackly voice replied, Garibaldi standing close enough to hear it.

    "I need a steady barrage, ten kilometres radius from my position. No hostiles, I just need some grid squares cleared."

    "Roger that General, be advised it's going to take a while."

    "Got all day Big Sky."

    "Command wants you to know there's a weather front heading your way due to arrive tonight, thick clouds and rain." The voice from above relayed. "We'll have no line of sight tomorrow and heavily impaired sensors."

    "Of course you will, perfect timing."

    "The water in the air will also diffuse our energy weapons, Command recommends missiles as the optimal bombardment option."

    "Understood, I'll factor it in."

    "Very good Mud Hopper, barrage will commence shortly."

    "Thanks for the show Big Sky."

    The General lowered his binoculars and tossed the field phone back to his aide. "You ever seen an orbital bombardment Sergeant?"

    "Once sir, but it wasn't one of ours." Garibaldi shoved back the memory.

    "I watched the Minbari glass a good chunk of Jericho, but I also saw our ships at work against the Dilgar. Nothing quite like it." He looked skyward waiting patiently. "You're right Sergeant, you could lose an army in that jungle, it offers far too much cover and concealment. Especially for irregular forces."

    From high above a point of light began to move, a bright spot that grew over the seconds before suddenly speeding up, scything neatly through the clouds leaving a trail of vapour behind it as it burned through the air itself until impacting the ground in a sheet of flame.

    "So we remove the Jungle." The General determined. "And in the process we churn up the ground, make it uneven and difficult to traverse. We litter it with fallen tree trunks and turn large areas of the surface into sharp chunks of glass. We turn it from an advantage to our enemies, into an advantage for ourselves."

    Several more bolts of energy fell from the sky and hit the jungle, tossing up shards of trees and creating brief pressure domes of vapor in the humid air. The range and thick atmosphere had robbed the bolts of a majority of their energy but they still hit harder than any regular artillery with the added advantage of flash heating anything they didn't simply obliterate.

    "As an added bonus that jungle will burn all night which will hinder enemy scouts and give our people plenty of light to spot them coming. Might dry out this damn humidity a little too."

    "Guess the Navy is good for something after all." Garibaldi gave a tiny bit of credit, the energy pulses falling with regularity now, a steady curtain working its way back and forth around the crater.

    "Once or twice." The General agreed. "This part of the defenses faces the expected direction of the enemy, your unit will likely be at the sharp end tomorrow. Ready for it Sergeant?"

    "We will be."

    "Good." The General didn't need to hear more, he recognized the simple resolve in the voice of a veteran. "Word is the enemy has several combat robots, big things they say, dozen meters tall."

    "Nice big targets sir."

    "Probably so, these are pirates so they are probably used to intimidate impoverished communities. Still, they will have guns so make them a priority if you see one."

    "Understood sir."

    "Good hunting tomorrow then Sergeant. Remember these are pirates and slavers." General Robert Fraser turned his back on the growing firestorm. "Kill them all."
     
    Chapter 7
  • Earth Force Defensive Perimeter
    New Haiti
    The following day


    As predicted the fires burned through the night casting the landscape in a dull red and orange glow. Few men managed to sleep, even the ones off duty spent their time resting up or watching the flames. It was a hellish moment, a glimpse of the unrestricted warfare Earth was capable of if it had the chance. If they were lucky it would terrify the enemy, break their morale and rob them of their will to fight, removing the need for the coming battle. It was a nice thought, but few really believed it.

    For Garibaldi it was a reflection of the Minbari attacks on the New Berlin colony, the obliteration of the capital that had refused to surrender without a fight. The civilians had left, the Minbari allowing them to do so in some quirk of doctrine, but anyone who stayed and fought had been erased to the last man. Garibaldi had been heading their to reinforce them, a few hours earlier and he'd have been in the city when it was struck. It was a lucky escape, but he didn't feel grateful for it, just haunted by how fickle fate had been.

    He would fight when dawn arrived, do his duty for Earth, but it all felt hollow. He appreciated it was for a good cause, one that was morally right, but it didn't mean much to him anymore. Even if the enemy deserved death and destruction he still ended up covered in someone else's blood.

    The inferno burned itself out in the small hours, some passing showers of rain hastening the process and making the ground even more muddy. It was a miserable start to the day and it was certainly going to get worse. Some parts of the local jungle still burned pumping black smoke into the heavy sky, the clouds leaden and grey with the promise of more rain. General Fraser had wanted a tangled morass for the enemy to advance through and the navy had provided it, now they just waited for their guests.

    As the light increased, reserve troops moved forward, a platoon of tanks taking up position on the flank of Garibaldi's position. They nudged into pre-prepared earthworks dug out by the engineers the previous day and settled into a hull down position, only their flat gun turrets exposed over the hasty fortifications. A brief breakfast of insta-heat rations served to fortify the defenders and shrug off some of the filthy weather, green clad soldiers taking up their forward positions and doing a last round of weapons checks. They made themselves busy, checked their gear, joked, talked about nothing, anything to keep them from dwelling on what was to come.

    Most of them were barely out of training, the few experienced men in the company doing their best to share their knowledge and wisdom. There was little they could do about fear, everyone felt it, even the old hands, all they could do was show the fresh recruits how to push through, do their jobs and stay alive.

    "Remember to check the auto turrets, humidity screws the wiring if you don't keep them clean." Garibaldi assigned tasks. "You let mud get in the traverse mechanism and it could get us all killed. If you think you've checked it, check it again."

    He glanced up as an engine whirred overhead, one of the recon drones from the command post substituting for real eyes in the sky. The cloud cover had blocked most of the navy sensors leaving the army to rely on its means. If things went badly south the navy could still drop missiles guided by ground based observers but it would be risky, to all intents and purposes the army was on its own.

    "Tip out that water from your foxholes too." Garibaldi returned to keeping his platoon busy. "Yeah, complain now, but you'll thank me if you have to spend the next eight hours sitting in one."

    The nearby tank crews were also getting some food, pacing around their vehicles for the tenth time, and would probably do it another ten times. The feeling was palpable, the heaviness in the air more than the tropical humidity. The Pirates weren't going to back off, every instinct Garibaldi had told him hell was on the way. He would make sure they were ready to meet it.



    "Eyes on, General, enemy formation identified, fifty miles out." General Fraser peered over the technician's shoulder looking at a video feed from the recon drone. The cramped command vehicle didn't offer much room for a full Brigade's worth of staff making movement to and fro a bit of a squeeze.

    "Swing left a little." Fraser drunk down some vile gunpowder tea. "Just there, robots." He tapped the screen. "Intel was right."

    He took some time to watch the machines walking slowly and awkwardly alongside the rest of the Pirate force. They'd managed to drum up quite a few thousand people, an irregular force but apparently carrying plenty of guns. The drone continued investigating, picking out some small armored vehicles and dozens of armed trucks and repurposed farm machines. None of those concerned him, and the loose waves of slowly advancing infantry wasn't much concern either. What bothered him was the robots, out of place as they looked he could see even from high above they carried plenty of guns.

    "Game's on then." He drained the cup with a wince and set it on top of the console. "Keep a watch on them, I'll need you to spot for the guns."

    "Yes sir."

    "Mitch?" He singled out the commander of his artillery detachment. "You're on, doesn't look like they've brought any artillery with them. Demonstrate why that was a mistake."

    A series of orders were relayed, short sharp commands running up and down the chain of officers, coordinates and ranges provided by the drone, firing plots from the gunners, ammunition types and firing patterns from the gun captains. It was swift and flawless, Fraser was no gunner but he certainly appreciated the way it all flowed down to one inevitable result.

    A full company of Loki artillery cannons raised their guns skyward, 165mm shells selected and slammed into the breaches by autoloaders. The gun commanders programmed in a few last variables to account for humidity and gravity, then closed the triggers and braced for the noise.

    The day began in earnest with the crack of the heavy guns, the sudden noise waking up anyone who wasn't already prepared for the day. It filled the front lines with renewed haste, told them that things were about to get very real.

    "First salvo on the way. impact in twenty seconds."

    "Very good." Fraser kept his eyes nailed to the drone feed, the video sharp but still seeing jolts and static from the weather conditions. He and the rest waited until finally the first shells landed splattering into the mud and then sitting there for a second, just long enough for the nearest troops to register their arrival before detonating in a fountain of mud and metal shards.

    "Get another salvo of delayed action shells on the way, then switch to air burst for the rockets."

    They had known from the start they were not up against professionals, sure the pirates might be killers, they could probably use their weapons well enough, but they were not an army trained to fight other armies. Fraser wagered the bulk had never been under artillery fire before and probably only knew to throw themselves flat when the shells landed. That wasn't a bad instinct, but it also wasn't going to save them. If they had sought better cover, hidden behind the robots, scattered from their casual knots of gangmates, tried to use the cover of the fallen trees and shattered jungle it might have helped a little more, but probably not, not with the destruction Fraser was about to rain down on them.

    The guns fired again, but this time were joined by a platoon of Frey mobile rocket batteries. Instead of firing a single shot at a time the rocket batteries fired dozens of missiles each, with each of this particular salvo of weapons containing hundreds of small explosive devices that would be scattered across the target zone. The plan was simple, as the artillery shells hit the enemy, having now seen what happened with the first shots would throw themselves flat just in time for the rockets to whoosh overhead and release their own weapons.

    The result was of course immediate and devastating, the submunitions sprinkling high explosives and shrapnel among the stationary pirates, the vast majority of them caught in the open. It was a very short, very sharp lesson delivered by professionals to amateurs.

    "Good target saturation, I'm seeing a lot of irregulars breaking and running."

    "Nice." Fraser poured himself more tea. "Vehicles?"

    "A lot of the technicals were hit, their robots and light tanks shrugged it off."

    "That would be too easy." He had hoped more panic would spread but fair enough. "Switch rocket batteries to anti armor cluster warheads Mitch, and have the guns swap to airburst, strip away the rest of their infantry support."

    The mobile cannons began a steady barrage, the rate of fire slow and steady as gun crews hauled new shells from their resupply vehicles and into the auto loaders. It was heavy work even with the help of cranes and loading chutes, the humidity not helping. Most crews were already down to their shirts but they kept the rate of fire steady, well aware that lives depended on their efficiency.

    "They're getting hammered." Private Marlow listened to the muzzle retorts from the cannons accompanied half a minute later by distant thumps of explosions and tiny puffs of smoke. "Those are airburst right Sarge?"

    "Yeah, they've probably caught infantry in the open." He gritted his teeth, any veteran knew what that meant, there was little more helpless and merciless for an infantryman, and nothing more relished by gunners. "They're dead men."

    "So we're going home then?"

    "Not unless they get the war robots too." Garibaldi shook his head. "How are the missiles?"

    "Loaded up and clean." He nodded to the automated launcher, a thick cable leading to the platoon command trench where the control unit resided. "They'll fire if we need them Sarge, guaranteed."

    "Hopefully our new buddies over there will handle it." Garibaldi thumbed over his shoulder at the neighboring tank platoon. "But no harm in helping out. Get back to your pit, anyone who survives that barrage gets a plasma bolt from us as their reward."

    "Got it Sarge." The young Private skittered away through the mud leaving Garibaldi to his own thoughts again. Overhead the rocket batteries loosed their second salvo, dozens of contrails like towers of smoke arching across the sky. He pitied those on the other end, but they had made their choice when they threw in with pirates and slavers. He once again checked the charge on his rifle and made busy waiting.



    "Minimal effect on anti armor munitions." The drone operator watched. "Looks like we got most of the light vehicles, those not burning are getting bogged down in the mess."

    "Guess the navy really are good for something." Fraser allowed, but the hail of explosives had done very little to the war robots. "Mitch, we have anything bigger?"

    "Not for anti tank work, not unless they cross the ridge then I've got a few shaped charged rounds for the big guns."

    "Let's hope it doesn't come to that, but make sure you have those rounds ready to drop if it does."

    "Yes sir."

    "Sir, the robots are picking up speed."

    Fraser peered down at the screen, the war machines starting to pick up their pace. That was not unexpected but slightly annoying.

    "They're abandoning their infantry and vehicle support, coming in solo. Confident bastards aren't they?" Fraser grunted a chuckle. "Alright Lenny, time for your tanks. Alpha company on the ridge, Bravo company flanking position, Charlie company active reserve."

    "On it sir."

    "Katie, gunships too, you're up!"

    "Aye sir, air support coming!"

    "Better hold fire now Mitch, don't want you smacking our own aircraft." Fraser called off the artillery. "Open up again once they run."

    The strategy shuffled to respond to the new threat, the brigade demonstrating its flexibility swapping to a focus on armor. The tanks already dug in on the ridge facing the advance were reinforced, another dozen vehicles climbing the back of the ridge with a loud whine of engines and ear piercing squeal of wheels and tracks. As they took up static positing a second company of thirty six vehicles rolled up on their left side just behind the ridge as close support, with a third unit assembling at the center of the crater Earth Force was deployed in.

    The crews were confident, the standard issue Thor tanks had proven surprisingly effective against the Minbari, the simple chemically propelled 135mm rounds easily punching through all but the biggest Minbari vehicles. They could hit hard, were small and low to the ground targets making them hard to hit, and sported strong composite armor protection. On top of that they also had an excellent defensive position with clear site lines and prepared earthworks. It was setting itself up to be a turkey shoot.

    "Enemy should be in visual range soon." The drone operator calculated.

    "Notify the forward positions." Fraser ordered, getting extremely serious as the main event approached. "Weapons free, engage whenever they have a good shot."



    The arrival of the mechs was like an ancient assortment of monsters walking out of myth, the blackened and snapped trees littering their path, their still smoldering remains providing a skein of pale grey smoke the machines gradually resolved from. The largest one became visible first, standing tall amid the smoke joined moments later by its three companions. Three were humanoid, the other a bipedal cockpit on bird like legs, with the largest vehicle festooned with weaponry. They were made by human hands but utterly alien to the Earth forces facing them, nobody knew quite what to make of them, but their approach was suitably intimidating.

    "According to our data the big one is called a Thunderbolt, well armed with lasers and missiles." Fraser listed for his staff. "That one's a hunchback on account of the giant stubby cannon on its shoulder. This is a Stinger, small but fast, and the kiwi looking thing is a Jenner. Again, small but fast."

    "Any idea how fast sir?"

    "No, and the ground will slow them down, but make sure the tank crews are aware so they don't get spooked if those things start running."

    "Alpha Company reports enemy forces are in range, they are opening fire."

    Out on the ridge the first line of tanks made their move, firing from stable positions they had good accuracy even at long range, several shots finding their mark while the rest went wide. The largest mech took most of the hits, staggering a little as the sabot rounds struck its armor and mostly shattered or cartwheeled away with a clank and warble of air.

    "Registering hits, but I'm not seeing a lot of damage."

    "Continue firing, range is still long." Fraser stated factually, his bluntness keeping the staff focused, but inside his heart was accelerating. Seeing the high velocity shots bounce off such a massive target was not a hopeful sight. "Gunships?"

    "A few minutes out."

    "Mitch?" He glanced at his artillery chief. "Tell your guns to load those anti tank shells."

    The tanks of Alpha company fired again, the mechs speeding up, breaking into a run now they knew they were in range. Most shots missed as the targeting computers adjusted, having trouble dealing with the undulating motion of a mech stomping at speed toward them. The system defaulted to its most logical option, aiming for the center of mass, which was also of course the most heavily protected part of the target.

    The mechs split, the smaller lighter machines flanking left and right accelerating away from their big brothers while the two bulky front liners barreled onwards soaking up hits from the tank guns. The impacts were arriving more often now the range decreased and the sabot rounds were delivering more energy, cracking the face of some armor pieces on the big mechs, but they were still apparently having less of an effect than hoped. The relatively thin darts were designed to spear vehicles of a similar size to the Thor, compact AFVs where the main philosophy was to cram as much vital gear into the tiniest possible space. In such circumstances a single solid hit was going to core through multiple vital components, and crew, killing most targets with one good penetration. But a battlemech was different, it was a far bigger machine with far greater volume and redundancy, the 40mm wide darts that did penetrate often did little more than clip some myomer or knock out a redundant system and leave a neat little hole in the plating.

    "Those big bastards can move!" Marlowe poked his head above the parapet of his trench prompting Garibaldi to grab him and drag him back down.

    "Stay low you moron!" The Sergeant snapped. "If those tanks pull back we're going to go with them, spread the word and get ready to pull back to the second line."

    "Right, got it Sarge."

    "And stay low!"

    The tanks twenty yards away snapped their guns again, the impressively loud and violent weapons having a lot less effect than anyone had expected. They kept up a solid rate of fire, the guns notably lowering their elevation as an ominous sign the enemy were getting much closer. The lighter mechs moved into range first, finally replying to the hail of gunfire with a cluster of missiles that rushed upward and then angled down at the unprotected upper surfaces of the tanks.

    Fraser was ready for it. He had positioned several Uller type Air Defense vehicles in key locations to watch the skies, their quad lasers and pinpoint accuracy utterly lethal to any low flying aircraft. They also served admirably as an anti-missile system, the red beams intercepting the inbound rockets in a dazzling display of precision.

    The pirates either didn't notice or didn't care, the mechs pounding on into their energy weapons range, the Stinger cutting a laser beam across the summit of the ridge melting the ground where it touched. It was getting dangerously close, but that worked both ways.

    The closest tank took a little extra time to aim, the gunner adjusting manually, tracking the motion, leading the target, waiting to catch the humanoid machine on the bounce. He timed his shot superbly, the 135mm round decapitating the mech in a perfect clean hit.

    "One down!" The Drone operator called out.

    "At least we know we can hurt them." Fraser approved. "Gunships Kate?"

    "One minute out, they're burning hard but we didn't expect these robots to sprint."

    "Just get them here and putting missiles on targets."

    The other light mech, the Jenner, quickly adjusted course, digging its metal feet into the mud and skidding, the pilot expertly keeping the machine mostly vertical. Three tank rounds whizzed past, one with just inches to spare as he kicked off and picked up speed again running to flank the Earth Force gun line.

    "That fast one's getting closer!" Private Daniels yelled a warning, his words accompanied by the tank turrets swinging further and further to the side until they were virtually firing over the heads of Garibaldi's platoon.

    "Get flat and cover your ears!" He yelled as he dropped himself immediately as a twenty foot long gout of flame erupted overhead followed by the crack of a departing projectile. Even with his hands planted firmly over his ears the noise was temporarily deafening, not helped by a second shot three seconds later, and then a third. He was braced for a fourth but it never came, instead the whole world was bathed in neon green and became scorching hot.

    A laser of some type speared the relatively weak side of the tank ignoring the built up earthworks, melting through the armor and flash frying the interior. The high explosive rounds detonated obliterating the vehicle, Garibaldi watching the turret spinning up and over his head to land somewhere down the ridge. The guns didn't use gunpowders as their older ancestors did, instead using inert binary liquids which needed to be mixed to combust as a safety feature. In this case though the damage was so intense the two liquid tanks burst spraying their contents into the air, when droplets hit each other they crackled in thousands of tiny explosions like fireworks.

    Garibaldi felt like he'd been fried on a hot plate, the air itself was unbearably hot between the lasers and the nearby inferno of the wrecked tank. He was deaf, scorched, half blinded by the laser light but he could still feel the world around him tearing itself apart. The concussion of cannons firing shells just feet above his head, a second sweeping green laser beam, another sparkling crackle of BilPro storage dancing overhead in a macabrely beautiful sight.

    He dragged himself up, blinking to banish the afterimages that ruled most of his vision, working his jaw to get some hearing back. He could make out the remaining two tanks in this platoon lurching backwards out of their positions, their line clearly flanked. They still fired but the Jenner was dodging hard and it this range the gun turrets weren't traversing quickly enough. A third tank took a hit, not fatal but enough to sheer off a track and dump it on its side, the fourth tank throwing up a fountain of mud as the driver panicked and gunned the engine too hard trying to escape.

    "Fall back!" Garibaldi yelled, his own voice quiet over the ringing in his ears but hopefully loud enough for his platoon to hear. "Get back! Move now!"

    The ground was shaking rhythmically as the mech altered course again, this time charging for the final tank as it struggled to get moving. Its course took it directly along the ridge, right over the position being held by Garibaldi's men. He had no idea if their trenches and foxholes would stand up to the passage of the machine, if his friends were about to be crushed into this worthless ground, if he was about to go to his own grave a failure.

    Like hell he was.

    The machine was almost on them, the tank still putting rounds over his head causing the mech to weave, to keep outpacing the frantically swinging gun turret. It was utterly focused on the Thor tank dodging its fire and trying to line up a kill shot of its own, the pilot completely ignoring the infantry that scattered and ran from the fast approaching enemy. All but for Michael Garibaldi.

    He was furious, rageful, in that instant a lifetime of anger injected the fuel he needed to act into his veins. The constant retreats from the Minbari, the lost friends, the lost colonies, the fires of destroyed warships, the despair and the courage which had all counted for nothing. All he had seen as a soldier was the unfairness of war, the losses, the death and defeat and he had been powerless to stop it. Now though, here and now, he could stop it. He was not powerless, all he needed was the strength to seize the moment.

    Garibaldi ran, but not down the ridge with the others, he instead threw himself into the command trench, into the path of the running machine by now just a few strides away, just a couple of seconds from running over him. He knew exactly what to do, what his target was, the sturdy portable command console for the six anti tank missiles guarding this part of the line. He had no idea if they would work, if they were powerful enough, but he was damn sure this chicken looking bastard wasn't going to have it all his own way today.

    Garibaldi skidded to a stop in front of the console, gunfire thumping, the ground bouncing, he grabbed that console, swung the missiles around and up until the screen showed nothing but the metal belly of the mech by now almost immediately overhead, and he hit the fire button.

    The trench was flooded with acrid smoke as all six missiles ripple fired straight up as the mech thundered overhead, the weapons unguided having had no time to achieve lock but at this proximity it didn't matter. Two missed by a small margin vanishing into the sky before running out of fuel and self destructing, but four struck home hitting the vulnerable motive elements of the belly with one striking the main hip joint severing the left leg in a shower of white smoke and burning metal.

    That missile in particular sealed the Jenner's fate, the machine was already at full sprint and had no hope of stopping, the right leg propelled it forward, artificial muscles radiating heat Garibaldi could feel, but there was no left leg to continue the stride. The Jenner smashed itself into the ground face first, the cockpit shattering as several tons of machine pushed it into the ground. Momentum then took over, the high speed impact flipping the ruined main body end over end several times in squeals of splitting metal and showers of lofted mud. It came to rest at the bottom of the ridge an unrecognizable pile of tangled junk.

    "You got him!"

    Garibaldi snapped around to see Marlow looking in awe at the smoking pile of junk, the Sergeant's fury subsiding as his senses began to return.

    "Yeah, one down."

    "In the ground." The Private peered over. "Think he survived that?"

    "Hell no, that son of a bitch is going home in a bucket." Garibaldi turned away, every muscle still infused with energy and a need to act. "Get me some reloads."

    "Some what?"

    "Reloads, for the missile turret." Garibaldi moved back into being a platoon Sergeant. "We might need it again, go."

    "Right, got it Sarge."

    He tapped the communication set in his helmet, steadying his breathing so he sounded like he was in complete control of the situation. "Lieutenant, front line is clear sir, suggest we re-establish defenses up here. It's still the best position."

    "Understood." The reply came. "Did you just take out that robot Sergeant?"

    "Yes sir, I don't see any others but there could be infantry following up. We should be prepared to meet them."

    "You're right Sergeant, let's rally the men and be ready. Not much we can do about the other robots."

    "Yes sir."

    The robot was down, but it had taken three tanks with it leaving them just a lone vehicle as support, the mud splattered Thor tank holding still while the crew gathered their wits and thanked several assorted deities that they were still breathing. They still owned the flank, but at a cost, and this was just a small one.

    The intense rumbles and cracks of gunfire told him all he needed to know about how the bigger robots were faring.




    "Hostiles are a few hundred meters out and still advancing at speed." The picture on the screen was clear, the broad set combat robots heavily scarred but still operational. The lead one had lost its shoulder mounted missile launchers and seemed to have lost the use of an arm, but it had done little else to reduce its potency. The ridgeline had done its job sheltering the tanks, only one had been lost to long range fire, but with the enemy almost among them that would change.

    "We can't hold the center, get Alpha company off that ridge." Fraser ordered. "Bravo company move forward, catch them on the flanks and establish a crossfire."

    The frontline tanks throttled up and began to back out of their emplacements, half of them popping smoke to cover their retreat. It was a well executed maneuver but hadn't counted on the type of enemy they were up against.

    As soon as the two pirates saw their enemy giving ground they charged, both mechs had been fitted with jump jets, more as an extravagance given the weight of the Hunchback and Thunderbolt, but they gave both pilots enough of a boost to instantly clear the outer slope of the ridge and drop down with a deafening crash on the summit before the tanks had much chance to move. The Thunderbolt landed heavy, its knees bending but holding, a pair of surprised tanks in front of it unable to react fast enough to take a point blank shot before they were cored by lasers. The hunchback did one better, dropping on top of one vehicle sending its multiple wheels flying off in all directions and burying the hull in the mud.

    "Enemy on the ridge General, Alpha company still withdrawing."

    "Get them back down fast." Fraser gritted his teeth, these robots were far more agile than anything so huge had a right to be, in among his tanks they were going to be hell to deal with. "Mitch, get some smoke up there!"

    A few seconds later several Loki guns fired airburst smoke rounds at the ridge to screen the tanks but by that point it was too late, the mechs were far faster than the Thor tanks and easily out paced them firing as many shots as they could into the tops and flanks of the vehicles. Several more tanks were lost as they reversed down the ridge, most to laser fire but a couple to the terrain itself.

    The rout was averted by the arrival of Bravo company heading down from a different part of the ridge, the second unit of tanks firing as they advanced, engines shrieking as the crews rode in to rescue their brethren.

    "Lenny! Get Charlie Company in there now, get all the reserves up forward!" Fraser waved in the direction of the rapidly approaching enemy. "Get the experimental in too! Everything, on this line, right here!"

    The two pirates reacted to the threat splitting up, the hunchback angling to intercept Bravo Company while the leader in his thunderbolt continued to drive Alpha Company toward the command post, the set of tents and vehicles an obvious target. The gunfire was starting to tell, both mechs were slowing down, the steady accumulation of damage and heat affecting performance, but the Thor tanks just weren't hitting hard enough or fast enough to overcome the mechs in time.

    Bravo Company divided by platoon and engaged at speed, the soft ground not helping much, hoping mobility would grant them an advantage. The mech though remained faster, running down a tank that passed too close and kicking it out of control, then pivoting to obliterate a second with its autocannon.

    Alpha Company was still bearing the brunt, its numbers almost depleted as they weaved and dodged the thunderbolt, salvation arriving just in time as the reserves advanced behind a hail of fast moving metal darts drawing the pirate's attention. By this point Fraser didn't need the drone to tell him where the enemy was, he just opened the door of the command vehicle and looked outside, the massive ugly black and white machine side stepping a sabot round that whistled past before shrugging off two more that hit, stripping off a chunk and crumbling armor.

    The mech retaliated with lasers, one of the reinforcement tanks erupting in fire this time as it shifted focus, backing up until it was almost on top of the command vehicle, deafening blasts from the tanks and the passing of cannon shots rocking the vehicle on its wheels.

    "To hell with this!"

    Fraser jumped down from the vehicle, his presence there not required at this moment, and ran for a parked jeep nearby. The shadow of the machine was right over him though the pilot was too busy with tanks to go for soft targets yet. The General cracked open a storage compartment on the back of the vehicle and pulled out a shoulder launched rocket, lining up the anti tank missile and firing it in a blast of rocket smoke at the mech. It hit in a satisfying explosion but achieved little, prompting the General to turn angrily back to the vehicle and look for another.

    "Anyone have any more missiles?"

    His plea was answered by the roar of a dozen incoming rockets streaking across the sky and pummeling the Thunderbolt, the machine staggering as it absorbed the full weight of the impacts. Overhead at last the Valkyries arrived, VTOL gunships rushing past and swinging around, pilots killing as much speed as they could manage to orbit the battlefield.

    "About damn time you lazy bastards!" Fraser shouted up at the aircraft with a laugh. "Go murder them!"

    The gunships threw a new variable into the mix, their jets angling to swing around and face the targets, four on either mech. The initial salvo had hit hard but it still wasn't enough to stop the thunderbolt, the pirate vehicle smoking and pitted but still very much in the fight. It swung around and backed off raising a laser equipped arm to fire on the newly arrived aircraft, the VTOLs having gone into the hover to give their targeting computers time to deliver a massed precision strike.

    It was a fatal mistake, the laser cutting down two VTOLs before the other two took evasive action punching out chaff and flares to confuse the thunderbolts targeting system. Shaken but undeterred the two survivors circled back and loosed more rockets and missiles, abandoning the complex targeting computers and firing by eye. They supplemented the attacks with pulse cannons, blue energy splashing against the enemy machine adding to its woes.

    In that instant the calculus changed, with the gunships distracting the thunderbolt its pilot failed to notice six fresh tanks rolling into position, disregarding them as more annoying bugs to stomp. The lack of concern cost him his life, the six vehicles opening fire and immediately crippling the mech, blasting off an arm and shooting out a knee causing the mighty robot to finally drop to the mud.

    The Thor tanks had proven insufficient for the task, as they had when facing the massive Minbari assault tanks. To counter them Earth had rapidly developed a new vehicle, the Odin battle tank, which had replaced the 135mm BilPro cannon of the Thor with a tremendously potent 105mm gauss cannon. Only six prototypes had so far been built, and Fraser had brought them all.

    The gauss cannons hit hard, the tungsten cored sabots piercing the already cracked and weakened mech armor like tissue shattering interior components through sheer brute force and finally ending the rampage of the pirate commander. The thunderbolt fell forward, struggling in the mud to right itself. A scorched Thor tank trundled up, one of the few survivors of Alpha Company, and at six feet of range put a shot through the cockpit.

    The hunchback lasted a little longer on the flank but its fate was also sealed, it halted for a moment to aim its massive shoulder mounted autocannon letting an extremely aggressive VTOL pilot rush in from the flank and cut in front of the mech spraying pulse fire into the muzzle of the heavy autocannon. The bolts detonated the heavy shell while it was still in the breach, which then set off the ammo storage. In an instant the Hunchback ceased to exist, two thirds of its torso vanished into shards while the rest was thrown into the mud.

    The VTOL wobbled as it was peppered by debris, the pilot expertly dropping it belly down into the mud and ejecting, the last tally for the pirate assault. Fraser watched the pilot swinging under the parachute, the black columns of smoke from his burning vehicles and the shot through metal corpses of the battlemechs. They had the day and had the planet, but nobody had expected their enemies to be this resilient. Things were going to have to change and fast.
     
    Chapter 8
  • Post it Notes: Damn, LC is fast with these updates. I can't keep up. Lol!


    New Haiti
    A few days later


    He had no idea how long he had been asleep, the steady rocking of the vehicle and surprisingly comfortable sprung seats creating a perfect storm of drowsiness which sent him into a slumber. It was deeply unprofessional, but nobody else in the vehicle disturbed him, Garibaldi had more than earned it. It wasn't until they approached the capital city that one of his neighbours surreptitiously nudged him, waking the Sergeant but without acknowledging he had been asleep.

    “This place is a mess.” Private Marlowe peered through the sensor scope in the rear of the Baldur IFV, their armed battle taxi for this part of the trip. With the pirate army broken and scattered the next step in the mission was to seize control of key infrastructure, such as it was, and assume official control of the planet. Orbital scans had pinpointed a handful of big cities along with hundreds of smaller towns, at one point this planet had been rather well populated but over the centuries since the decline of the galaxy New Haiti had followed suit.

    Other units from General Fraser's brigade had deployed to take the bigger population centres and the scant but still potentially useful industrial clusters, leaving Garibaldi's battalion to roll up and take control of the capital city a couple of hundred miles from the landing site. The pirates had no mechs left, and their handful of armoured vehicles and tanks had been destroyed with little effort by Earth Force earlier, but there was still the chance of armed irregular troops making life difficult.

    The vehicle made a sharp turn and swerved off the road it was following, behind it the rest of the column did the same, spreading out left and right forming a broad line in the fields ahead of the city.

    “Dismount.” Lieutenant Meitner's voice crackled on the radio coming in from one of the other vehicles. “We'll go in on foot, sweep and clear.”

    “You heard the man.” Garibaldi blinked himself awake. “Out we go, spread out and take covering positions.”

    The door at the back of the IFV dropped open forming a ramp for the eight passengers to use, half the men going left and the others right before throwing themselves down on the ground, weapons sweeping back and forth as they looked for trouble.

    “First squad clear sir.” Garibaldi reported. “No contacts.”

    “Very good, hold position.” Meitner answered. “Tank support is rolling up.”

    The platoon settled down to wait a few minutes in the waving grass and warm sunshine outside the capital city, the whole region looking pretty run down and poorly maintained. It reminded Garibaldi of some of the places he'd seen out in the Narn colonies, the old slave cities established by the Centauri, which just barely passed for livable. Now and then he saw people walk past on the outskirts, taking a look at the scattered Earth Force vehicles and soldiers before going about their business. There were a few cars and trucks moving too and fro but none risked coming close. The whole planet felt scared, cowed by their previous rulers.

    They were joined by a quartet of Thor tanks, the broad vehicles trundling up along the main road and coming to a halt parallel to the infantry units, all of them showing wear and tear from the earlier battle. The commander of the lead vehicle looked gaunt as he stood out of the turret hatch, scanning the horizon for trouble. The armoured units had lost thirty vehicles destroyed or disabled, nearly a third of their total number and were understandably shaken, but today's operation was at least something they had the training and experience to handle.

    “Hey there!” Lieutenant Meitner walked up and waved at the tank commander. “Ready to move up?”

    “Ready as we'll ever be.” The man nodded. “We're going down the main road, straight through to the central plaza.”

    “Won't the pirates be expecting that?” Meitner wondered with justifiable concern. “Seems a good spot for an ambush.”

    “Not much choice, all the other roads are too narrow to manoeuvre down, whoever put these buildings up had no sense of planning.” The tanker grunted. “Not enough room to swing the turrets without hitting some crappy house, so it's going to have to be straight down the highway.”

    “We'll follow your lead then.” He turned to Garibaldi. “Cover the left side Sergeant, I'll take the other squad and cover the right.”

    “Got it sir.”

    “Watch the windows and alleys, and remember we're here to liberate civvies, watch your fire if things go hot.” Meitner reminded. “Move it up, let's get this over with!”

    The tanks lurched forward again, moving slow enough for the infantry to form up and advance at a walking pace beside the vehicles. This was warfare they all understood, the partnership of foot soldiers and armour protecting each other and overwhelming potential opposition. The Thor was well suited for this task, the experimental Gauss armed Odin had more punch but it was a pure tank killer, its gun optimised to pierce through metal and nothing else. The Thor was a generalist, its cannon able to fire high explosives, canister shot or incendiary rounds beside anti tank sabot shot, exactly what was needed for clearing a city.

    The highway was out of place, Garibaldi appreciating for a moment how well made it was. The road was eight lanes wide and ran neatly through the city with plenty of signs and junctions, though by now said signs were unreadable. It had been designed to handle a lot of traffic, to serve a vibrant bustling city with a productive forward looking population. Today it was cracked, grass sprouting through unmaintained strips, the streetlights broken and truncated, yet the bones of the highway remained. It wouldn't take much to restore it, and hopefully that was going to be true of the rest of this planet.

    Nobody met them as they crossed through the outer edges of the city, the ramshackle houses shut up tight at the passing of the Earth Force troopers. The central city was likewise deserted, the occasional face at a window marking their progress impassively, the only movement shreds of rubbish blowing along the ground.

    “The Plaza is on the right, next exit.” The tank swung around, cannon carefully training back and forth, the vehicles following each watching a different part of the approach. The infantry were always moving, always alert, even if things had been quiet so far everything could change in an instant. Different units branched off in different directions, a second company carrying along to secure the full length of the road. Overhead a pair of gunships thundered by at low level, and somewhere above it all the navy watched with electronic eyes feeding that data down to the General and his staff.

    The Plaza was equally deserted, the first two tanks nosing off the road and splitting to snake around the outside edges of the square guns constantly shifting as the crews left nothing to chance. Garibaldi's soldiers followed them, their target the large building fenced off at the far side of the plaza, the old government residence.

    “Second Platoon, Third Platoon, advance and secure that building.” The Company Captain ordered. “Tanks provide overwatch.”

    “Third Platoon confirms order.” Meitner acknowledged, then turned and glanced up at the tank commander. “The front door's probably rigged. We need another way in.”

    “Say no more.”

    The tank pointed its cannon at a blank portion of the wall, performed a swift thermal check to ensure the way was clear, then blasted away the concrete with a cluster round turning the wall to powder without collapsing the entire structure.

    “Move it up, let's go! Watch those corners!” Garibaldi ran for the newly opened entrance before the dust had settled, his platoon faithfully following in his footsteps. They rushed in and spread out, rifles sweeping as they checked the room beyond for any movement.

    “We're clear!” Garibaldi reported. “Moving on!”

    For the next several minutes the two platoons of EA soldiers carefully checked each room of the governor's residence, the large and still fairly grand building utterly deserted. The inside was a mess, stripped bare of anything which might have had value leaving an empty shell behind.

    “Looks like we missed them Lieutenant.” Garibaldi finished the sweep and checked in.
    “Building is empty, not seeing much intel left behind either.”

    “Understood Sergeant, we'll stay here for now, the General is on his way in to take up residence.”

    “Taking up defensive positions then.” Garibaldi confirmed, waving over his squad. “Brass is on the way, take up position at the windows, leave the front door to the engineers, and grab a bit of warm food while you can.”

    “Is that it then Sarge?” Marlowe raised a hand. “Did the pirates run?”

    “Yeah, but my guess is they're waiting for buddies.” Garibaldi reasoned out. “With a little luck the navy will handle that and we can just sit here for a while and wait for the ticket home. You don't use assault troops for mopping up armed thugs.”

    “Think they'll throw us at Tortuga?”

    “Maybe, but it's a big army and no reason we should have all the fun. Relax a little, get some chow, see what happens next.”

    [hr = 2 /]

    EAS Lexington
    Hyperspace near New Haiti


    “Flash traffic from our spy ship, Captain.” Commander Carroll called up a screenful of text, the ship's computer rapidly decoding it. “Hostile forces have assembled at Tortuga, anticipating FTL jump any minute.”

    “Acknowledge that signal.” Sheridan gave a curt nod. “Once they jump it'll be pretty fast, odds are they'll aim for the Lagrange point about half a light second out from the planet itself, rather than the sun. That won't give us long to react.”

    “Enemy composition is eight jump ships, each fully loaded with multiple armed dropships.” Carroll continued reading. “They estimate it is the full available force of the Pirate Kingdom.”

    “It's what he has to do, make a show of force.” Sheridan had fought enough Raiders to understand the rules of the game, it was a different universe but the play was the same. “We've hit him, taken something he owns and made him look weak. If he leaves us unchallenged, he invites his rivals to take a shot themselves, so he has to come down here in person and make an example of us. Very loud, very showy.”

    “Putting all his ships into range of our guns at the same time.”

    “That's the plan.” Sheridan confirmed. “Beats having to chase them across the entire sector, especially as it's going to be another four or five months until we can get beacons laid for Tortuga itself.”

    This was the ultimate goal of the operation, to bring the combat potential of the Tortuga pirates to New Haiti, isolate them, and crush them entirely. To that end, Sheridan had been keeping his three most heavily armed ships, the Lexington, Bearn, and Tarawa hidden in hyperspace so not to spook the pirates and dissuade them from launching the attack. The Akagi had remained in orbit to support the ground forces, the carrier still a warship but armed only for self defence. He was gambling it wouldn't be intimidating enough to scare the pirates into inaction, and indeed might serve as a juicy prize. Based on these latest reports from Commander Freeman and the refitted Lucky Dip holding station near the Tortuga sun, he may have been right.

    “There have been jump ships checking us out for a week now, hopping in, watching us from range, then heading back.” The Captain recalled. “If they're going to act it'll be now. They won't delay any longer.”

    “Are they any threat to us without capital ships sir?” Lieutenant Marks wondered.

    “Sure they are, we can't ignore the possibility these pirates have dug up some nukes from somewhere.” Sheridan cautioned. “Seems they were pretty common weapons back in the day, if one of those got through it could really ruin my plans for the weekend.”

    “Captain, spy ship reports enemy forces have begun to jump.”

    “Sound action stations and standby to jump.” Sheridan inhaled, switching to business mode. “Let them deploy first, make sure they can't run, then we'll end this fight.”



    Nobody was going to accuse Kalvin Bar-Dyness, Pirate king of Tortuga, of cowardice. He had read the reports of warships, of professional military forces, of invaders from nowhere who had ignored the basic rules of the Dominions. There had been no threats, no ransoms, none of the usual back and forth pirate bands indulged in. But they weren't behaving like a punitive raid either, a plain old smash and crash from Davion or the Taurian Bulls that rolled up, wrecked a band or two, and then went home to do better things. These people looked like they were here for the long term and that was a challenge that could not go unanswered. Bribery and threats weren't going to work, at least not until he had demonstrated why these Dominions had lasted as long as they had.

    The colourfully named Council of the Damned which consisted of the most powerful Pirate Lords and acted as the de facto rulers of the Dominion were already circling, already probing for weakness. Even his own second in command, Paula Trevaine, was regarding his throne with envious eyes and making pacts with his enemies. He needed to end this threat quickly and get back to business as usual, but at least this crisis had shown him who he could rely on within his circle. There was going to have to be some purges.

    Kalvin was not a General or an Admiral, but he was no fool either. He had sent in scouts to perform long range scans of the system, he had people on the ground reporting on the composition and locations of the invasion forces which seemed to be surprisingly lightly equipped, and he had made sure the forces he had brought were almost every band of pirates in range. He had also confirmed that there was indeed a warship present, but luckily for them a weak one. He was confident, and that confidence had galvanised his people, but he was still taking on a warship and that required the absolute maximum force he could bring.

    It also presented an opportunity, he had carefully arranged his ships so that those forces loyal to his rivals would have the glory of going in first. Most had happily agreed, the notion of boarding and capturing a warship far too tempting to pass up. One or two had seen it for the ploy it actually was and would probably be cautious in the attack, but he could figure out what to do with them later. First things first.

    If there was one thing a pirate crew was good at, it was making precise long range jumps and Kalvin's navigators were among the best alive. Naturally, he ignored the usual solar zenith and nadir jump points, even the most amateur of pirates wouldn't make such an obvious entrance. Instead he would arrive at the pocket of null gravity over New Haiti itself, a very risky but very necessary gamble that would put his ships just a few minutes outside of weapons range. He would have the element of surprise, there was no HPG here, no jump ships had visited, there was no way his opponents could possibly be prepared for his whole fleet to show up on their doorstep. He expected to lose ships, but that was also going to be to his advantage. That is why he was the king.

    His jumpships arrived exactly as planned, there was serious risk putting eight ships into such a relatively small area but he had the advantage of knowing exactly where every pirate point and obstacle was over New Haiti, with every corner mapped and tracked precisely for this kind of scenario. Most of his ships were the common Invader class, the wolves in sheep's clothing, but his own command was a far more impressive Star Lord, a ship worthy of a Pirate King that had passed from ruler to ruler for centuries. Each jumpship was running at full capacity, giving him twenty seven armed dropships of various types, some small and nimble, some heavily modified to the point where they were auxiliary warships. Most had some sort of landing force within them, ranging from armed rabble and light vehicles up to a full mech company carrying his own household colours. Naturally such a valuable unit wouldn't be leaving its docking collar until the coast was clear.

    The warship was still sitting in orbit, a massive grey wedge trailed by a small fleet of cargo vessels no doubt carrying supplies for the army below. It was an amazing target, the cargo ships alone laden with munitions and combat supplies would be worth a fortune, but a warship, an actual warship, that would make him the greatest pirate of all time. Someone even the great houses would have to show respect toward.

    “Get those dropships off and moving, I want boarding parties all over that warship in the next thirty minutes!” Kalvin snarled. “Aerospace units go first, clear the sky, neutralise any big guns on that ship.”

    An eclectic assortment of fighters began launching from across the rag tag fleet, mostly the rugged Hellcat and ubiquitous Sabre types with a few Corsairs thrown in for extra punch. They formed up in loose flights and accelerated toward their targets, the lighter more expendable fighters first to draw fire. As they did so, the armed dropships began the process of decoupling and forming up as quickly as possible for their own mission.

    So far it was going to plan, but there was something weighing on Kalvin's mind. His recon missions had shown just a single warship guarding the invasion support ships, but the very first reports, the ones delivered by the initial jumpships which ran away on day one, had said there were multiple warships and those vessels had been far better armed than the one he was looking at now. He had dismissed them as the panicked lies of captains who didn't want to admit cowardice to their lord and master, but there was always a chance they were right.

    “Begin recharging the jump engines from our battery reserves.” He added almost as an afterthought. “And make sure we have jump coordinates for home ready to go.”



    Earth Force put the next step of its plan into operation, the Akagi turning to face the incoming pirates and firing its engines to burn for a higher orbit. The carrier shifted to place itself between the assembling fleet and the supply ships, popping open the rows or hangar bay doors along its flanks and clearing for combat. The Akagi launched her entire airwing, the stubby Starfuries catapulted from the flanks of the ship on electromagnetic rails in a rapid sequence, each fighter orienting and forming up to face the enemy.

    “Alpha squadron, Delta squadron, form up on me. Beta and Gamma squadrons stay close to the transports and keep them covered.”

    While Earth Force had been wary of sending its very best forces down to the planet on the off chance they might not return, they had been far more confident in the forces sitting above. They had sent not merely one legend in the shape of John Sheridan, but two.

    “Alpha's two through six break left after contact.” Lieutenant Commander Jeffrey Sinclair watched his screen like a hawk, the unfamiliar fighters heading straight for them with no subtlety. “We'll give them some dispersion fire, see how they react, then box them in and take them out.”

    Every combat had its challenges, but after two years of trying to hit Minbari fighters through their sensor jamming, it was refreshing to actually see his enemies show up on scans, the range and performance data scrolling across his displays as welcome as a long lost friend. He lined up his pulse cannons and opened fire, his squad mates doing the same, and waited.

    The range was far, far too long to actually be useful, dispersion rendering the charged particles little more than a fancy light show, but his opponents didn't know that. He watched their reactions, saw how they took evasive action, which fighters broke off and which simply altered their vector. Sinclair took pride in being able to determine the skill of an opponent after seeing just one manoeuvre, noting the first wave of pirates were as green as fresh grass while their friends following up appeared to have some actual experience. They might be a challenge.

    “Alright Alpha squadron, let's go, weapons free.”

    Sinclair fired again, the squadron matching him, this time scattering pulses across the enemy formation forcing the pirate fighters to spread out and break up. The goal was simply to turn a large mutually supporting phalanx of fighters into several smaller groups that could be isolated and eliminated one by one, like sharks breaking up a school of fish. The better pirates, those flying the Corsairs, were skilled enough to stay in range of each other, each element still able to provide mutual support, but the rookie pilots in the Sabres and the middling flyers in the Hellcats were not reacting so well. Sinclair would take them first, scare them, panic them, leave them scattered and isolated for Delta squadron to mop up while Alpha focused on the Corsairs. At this point he was still preparing the way, shaping the battlespace to suit the Starfuries, picking his targets for maximum impact.

    One of the things he had looked for was how the pirates evaded gunfire. Virtually every human pilot he had encountered, perhaps every human there was, tended to see the world as a cube with nice linear x, y, and z axis running invisibly through it. It meant that the instinct of most pilots when pushed was to move on those axes, left, right, up, down, forward, back. Nice straight lines that required the minimal input on controls until their training or wits kicked in and they took more complex action. One of the most critical elements of Starfury training was to break out of that nice easy linear movement and move more in the diagonal, forcing their opponents to do the same. A well trained pilot could handle it easily enough, but most Raiders were not nearly as skilled as they pretended to be and Sinclair suspected the same was true here.

    The other massive issue facing the pirates was that they were flying fighters expected to operate both in space and in the air, two very different mediums, while Sinclair's pilots were pure space jockeys. A lot had been made of the fact Starfuries had been designed as pure space craft, discarding atmospheric capability to focus entirely on zero gravity performance and that was the reason for their surprising success. In truth it was more than that, pilots of dual medium aircraft had to learn two completely separate modes of performance, they had to learn how to dogfight in both space and the air, each with its own limits and requirements. In the heat of combat when acting on pure instinct, it was incredibly easy to find a pilot executing evasive or aggressive manoeuvres designed for atmospheric combat while in space or vice versa, like banking into a turn or rolling over before pulling the nose around, all critical for aerial combat but pointless in space. Sinclair's pilots only needed to know one set of tactics.

    That had been the real secret of the Starfury, it wasn't just the machine that had been stripped down and optimised for space combat, so had the pilots. Earth Force pilots were among the most aggressive in space, constantly pushing and pressuring their opponents until they made a mistake, and given virtually everyone they had fought against needed to memorise two sets of tactics and performance data for indo and endo atmospheric combat, they tended to screw up long before the Fury pilots did.

    Sinclair could already see it unfolding, he could sense blood in the water, knew that this was going to be a slaughter. He had arguably the finest pilots in the Alliance at his command, men and women who had fought and survived the Minbari, every one of them an ace. The pirates were scattering, their fighters moving linearly, most of them evading as if they were in an atmosphere forgetting to cut their thrust and let inertia do its job. He just needed to get it over with.

    He dropped his Starfury down in front of his chosen target making sure it noticed him, the Sabre light fighter firing a bright line of laser fire in his direction. Sinclair evaded diagonally, dropping down under the nose of the fighter and skewing right, his opponent moved linearly, down first and then right, giving Sinclair the half second he needed to line up a shot and fire. He only fired once, the twin linked pulse cannons putting a pair of blue rounds dead centre through the target snapping the pirate craft in two, the remains spinning away in a brief fireball.

    Alpha squadron went through the first line of pirates like they were a minor inconvenience, leaving the scattered survivors for Delta squadron following close behind. Sinclair's unit now focused on the smarter pirates, those who actually used space to their advantage. This was more of a challenge but once again training mattered. The pirates had skill but they were in this for the money, not the mission. They would hesitate, pass up opportunities to attack if the risk was too great. They had skills, but they didn't have the aggression or determination Sinclair's squadron brought, nor had they survived the merciless crucible of the Minbari war.

    All Sinclair had to do was keep up the pressure and wait for something to inevitably break.



    EAS Lexington.

    “Akagi reports enemy dropships have formed up and are approaching.” Commander Carroll relayed swiftly, anticipation underlining his words. “Patching in her sensor data.”

    Sheridan knew where the pirate fleet was before it showed up on the tactical screen, he knew his opponent had no option but to rush the Akagi taking the shortest possible route. The Pirate King was logical, smart enough to use the most efficient plan at his disposal, but in the end this was a Pirate band, not a unified battlefleet that had lived and trained together. This was probably the first and only time these ships had deployed side by side and it showed.

    “My compliments to Captain Spencer.” Sheridan nodded to his first officer. “Execute preplanned jump in five seconds.”

    “Aye sir.”

    “Bring jump engines on line, confirm our distance from the beacon.”

    “Position confirmed Captain.”

    “Initiate jump.”

    Sheridan sprung his trap, the two heavy cruisers emerging from a pair of blue energy whirlpools with no warning or precedent, the Lexington on the right flank with the Bearn sitting above lining up a classic crossfire. The immediate reaction was exactly what Sheridan hoped for, the massed pirate drop ships breaking off and turning toward the new threats, central coordination rapidly breaking down in the face of two full sized warships. He let the pirates sweat a little, gave them time to confirm this wasn't a trick and they really were facing down two fully operational warships before making his demands.

    “Pirate Fleet, I am Captain Sheridan of the warship Lexington. You will stand down and surrender your commands. This is your only warning, failure to comply will be met with lethal force.”

    He kept it curt and to the point, his voice far harsher than usual. He wasn't negotiating and he reasoned the best way to hammer the situation home was to be blunt, to make it abundantly clear that there was only one way to live through the next few minutes.

    “Captain Sheridan.” A voice replied on the same frequency taking him slightly by surprise, he wasn't expecting anyone to actually respond. “I am Kalvin Bar-Dyness, Pirate Lord of the Tortuga dominions. This is my world you have attacked Captain, my sovereignty you have violated. Take your army and leave.”

    Sheridan didn't expect the Pirate King believed this was going to work, but for the sake of his followers he had to make the demand. It was a game of posturing, appearances, the question was whether he would now accept defeat and make everybody's lives a lot easier, or if he would not and make a lot of people's lives a hell of a lot shorter.

    “Will you stand down, or are we going to have to do this the hard way?”

    “See you in hell Captain.”

    “Hostiles moving, energy spikes!” Commander Carroll called out. “Multiple vessels lining up and engaging!”

    “Interceptors free, select the biggest hostile and standby plasma cannons.” Sheridan set his ship to work. “Laser cannons prepare a solution for a raking attack.”

    The pirates were certainly confident, the front line of armed drop ships opening the game with salvoes of anti ship missiles and naval artillery that streaked toward the pair of waiting cruisers. Compared to the weapons Earth Force usually handled, the projectiles were moving very slowly, the interceptor systems sweeping the airspace in front of the cruisers and swiftly eliminating any threats.

    The two warships split their weapons, the pulse turrets operating defensively while the heavy prow guns and flank laser turrets powered up and sought victims.

    “Target locked, lasers ready, plasma cannons ready.” Carroll reported professionally. “Enemy ships are closing at speed.”

    “Take them out.”

    The Lexington demonstrated exactly why those in the know spoke the term warship in tones of respect, the twin laser cannons slicing across three dropships in a single motion melting through their hulls and immolating the interior. Two ships exploded as their propellant tanks detonated, the third rolled out of control ejecting clouds of frozen atmosphere. At the same time, the forward mounted plasma cannons, the biggest guns on the Lexington, sent a single salvo of incandescent energy into the core of the largest and roundest of the drop ships, the armed transport bursting like a balloon leaving only unrecognisable debris in its place.

    Several beams reached out to the Lexington, laser weapons that scored the hull leaving molten scratches but failing to penetrate the heavy armour. In response the cruiser spoke again, another of the largest armed dropships vanishing in an incredibly swift and violent display.

    “This is fish in a barrel.” Sheridan shook his head. “Which one is the Pirate commander on?”

    “The big spindly jump ship at the rear.” Carroll identified. “That's where the signal came from.”

    “At the rear.” Sheridan didn't hide his disdain. “Bring us about and target that ship.”

    The Lexington swung its nose around and accelerated toward the cluster of jumpships, interceptors knocking down another barrage of missiles and gunfire with minimal effort while the Bearn brought down another of the egg shaped vessels in spectacular fashion. Both EA ships were holding back a little, restraining themselves in the hope of taking at least some of the ships intact. The dropships were very useful on their own merits, but the jump ships in particular were a rich prize indeed.

    Kalvin knew the game was over, he'd known as soon as he watched his leading squadron of fighters cut out of the sky in a matter of seconds. The arrival of the two heavy warships, the ships he had doubted the existence of, merely sealed the matter.

    “Get us out of here.” He said simply. “Get us out of here now.”

    With a simple touch of a button the ship vanished, the lithium fusion battery that his flagship, and only his flagship, giving the large vessel the extra charge it needed for a jump without the usual lengthy recharge time. One other jump ship tried to do something similar dumping power into its drive system for a hasty escape, but its fate was not nearly so fortunate, the ship misjumping and disappearing into the ether.

    “He ran?” Carroll blinked.

    “And left all his friends.” Marks shook his head. “Pirates.”

    “All channels.” Sheridan demanded. “Pirate fleet, your commander has fled and abandoned you. Your ships are outmatched, you have nowhere to run, no allies to rescue you, no hope of victory. I offer you one final chance to save your lives. Stand down, or be destroyed.”

    This time there wasn't much in the way of discussion among the pirates, they could see the situation for what it was just as clearly as Kalvin had, the difference is they weren't rich enough to have an escape plan. One by one the drop ships surrendered, the transports first and then the armed variants. Within thirty seconds it was done.

    “Smart choice.” Sheridan found himself secretly relieved he didn't have to go through with the fight, pirates or not, it felt less like a battle and more execution by firing squad. “Land your ships outside the capital, the army will be waiting to take you into custody. Jump ships, cease charging your drives and prepare to be boarded.”

    That was it, the counter attack had been stopped, the vast majority of the pirate fleet captured or destroyed, for now at least their mission was complete.

    “Let's get a signal out to Command, let them know the first element of Operation Tripoli is complete.”

    “On it Captain, shall I upload the reports from...” Commander Carroll paused. “Sir, new contacts, multiple jump ships just emerged over the sun.”

    “More ships?” Sheridan frowned. “Intel said this was the whole pirate fleet.”

    “It did sir, I don't think these are pirates. Long range scans show these ships are in far superior condition, much more uniform.”

    “Any IFF?”

    “Possible, we'll just have to wait another couple of minutes for the signal to reach us.” His First Officer informed. “Looks like some well armed ships, possibly a full scale invasion force.”

    “Damn peculiar.” Sheridan leaned forward in his chair to scrutinise the tactical display. “Are they launching?”

    “No sir holding position.” Carroll pushed his headset closer to his ear. “I have a signal, voice only.”

    “Let's hear it.”

    He waited a second for his crew to patch in the radio signal, tensed in case their day's duty was not yet over.

    “Once again, I am Colonel Jaime Wolf, commander of The Wolf Dragoons. We are operating on the behalf of First Prince Ian Davion, please make yourselves known to us and state your intentions in this system.”

    “Hold off for a minute on that signal to command.” Sheridan tightened his jaw. “They’re going to love this.”
     
    Chapter 9
  • New Haiti

    It had taken just over a day for the two vessels to close the distance enough for real time communications. On the one side was Jaime Wolf, traveling in a cut down Leopard dropship, something chosen specifically because it was small and not especially intimidating, but also very swift if the need to be somewhere else arose. Sheridan of course remained on the Lexington, taking his time and proceeding at a leisurely pace so as not to reveal any of its real potential.

    The rest of their respective commands had held back and were waiting to see how things went, Sheridan had been authorised to proceed under first contact protocols and determine if these new arrivals were as much of a threat as a pirate kingdom was. For the Dragoons, well, a task force of warships had certainly caught their undivided attention.

    Neither side was expecting trouble, Sheridan certainly had the advantage regarding combat ability, but he also had the most to lose if things went badly. If these ships failed to report back, or if one escaped, would Ian Davion send forces to avenge them? Would the Federated Suns see the small but well armed Earth Alliance presence on their borders the same way President Levy had seen the Tortuga Dominion on hers? That could get very unpleasant very quickly, and with still so little information to go on regarding the personalities of the great families, the Alliance had to take it slow and careful.

    “Captain Sheridan, am I coming through clear?”

    The signal was still voice only which suited Sheridan fine, he didn't particularly want to risk the new arrivals spotting something useful in the background on the bridge of his ship.

    “Colonel Wolf, loud and clear.”

    “Good, I'm glad you agreed to this talk, Captain. So much easier than flipping signals back and forth every five minutes.”

    Sheridan had been so used to Tachyon based comms, adapting to light lag had been a bit of a challenge, but he chose to see it as recreating the way the pioneers had done it back in the early days of space travel.

    “I can imagine you have some question you'd like to ask.” Sheridan started with the obvious. “Before you do, my government wishes to state very clearly that we have no hostile intent toward you or your command.”

    “That is certainly good to hear, Captain.”

    “That said if your intentions here are hostile, well, you know how this kind of thing goes.”

    “Then let me put your mind at ease Captain, we're not here looking to fight you.” Wolf spoke evenly and confidently, if he was uncomfortable staring at a 1,200 metre long heavy cruiser, he gave absolutely no indication of it. “My mission is one of Pirate hunting, but it looks like we're a little late to the party.”

    “Well, apologies for that Colonel, if we'd have known you were coming we'd have saved a few for you.” Sheridan got the sense Wolf was a professional, both a soldier and a leader, so he had no need for pretence.

    “Plenty more out there for us, we're not greedy.” Wolf replied, still getting a feel for the situation. “Can I ask why, Captain?”

    “Why are we here?”

    “Yes.” Wolf's voice became more pointed and serious. “We are here because Prince Davion needed the pirates raiding him dealt with, but until now didn't have the forces to spare. For us this is a contract, for him his duty as a Prince. But what about you?”

    “It's our duty too, and our responsibility.” Sheridan had been very carefully briefed on exactly how much to say, what approved information to offer, and what to avoid like the plague. “We have some commitments nearby and were raided by pirates from here a while back.”

    That was of course true, if the Lucky Dip and her two very optimistic dropships counted as a raid.

    “I see. So your response was to obliterate the entire pirate armada and steal one of their planets?”

    “Not just one planet.”

    He couldn't see the man, but Sheridan swore he heard a little scoff of amusement.

    “I respect your dedication to the task, Captain. This does however leave my side with a minor problem. I have a contract to destroy the ability of these pirates to raid into Davion space. You seem to have handled that here, but my contract remains unfulfilled.”

    “If the pirates are broken already, then surely your contract is complete?”

    “It's a matter of honour Captain, we came out here to kill pirates and that is what we will do. New Haiti was the jumping off point for most of the larger raids, but it seems Tortuga is where the bulk of the surviving pirates are now. That's where we will go to finish our contract.”

    “I can follow your reasoning.”

    “I think Captain that perhaps we might be able to assist each other, we seem to have a convergence of interests.” Wolf brought up the topic Sheridan had been expecting. “Would it be possible to negotiate with your leadership?”

    “I am authorised to escort you to the planet for a meeting with General Fraser, if you would like?”

    “Excellent news Captain, I think your General might find my suggestion extremely beneficial.”



    Earthdome
    Geneva, Switzerland


    Waiting for news had been the most difficult part for the President, it always was. She had the responsibility for initiating this operation, for putting loyal sons and daughters of Earth into harm's way, and she would carry the blame if they failed to return home. The initial attack had ultimately gone well, casualties were higher than expected but less than feared, but now with a third party involving itself their worst fears were starting to be realised. There was the distinct possibility of escalation well before the Alliance was prepared to face it. Her policy of engaging the pirates was in real danger of backfiring.

    Instead of the usual conference room today they were in her office, the great seal of the Alliance hanging behind her desk framing the gaunt woman, the worries of decades etched on her face. Around her were representatives of her military, diplomatic and scientific departments.

    “Negotiations are scheduled for later today.” The Alliance's Ambassador at large, David Sheridan, brought her up to date. “I can ask General Fraser to delay things until we can get a full team out there.”

    “It will depend on this Colonel Wolf's proposal.” General Denisov considered carefully. “Our intel mentions his group a few times, very well equipped mercenaries. I don't think he's interested in picking a fight with us, and I don't think he's going to be interested in diplomatic relations.”

    “What could he want then?” Levy ran through some options in her head. “A forward base for a while? Fuel and supplies?”

    “All possible, we'll know later today.” The old General had nothing more to say. “We've also completed our after action report for Operation Tripoli, the summary is here Madam President.”

    The full report was presumably a massive document filled with technical analysis, President Levy only required the few sheets of summary to keep her up to date. She skimmed through and gave her attention to General Sikander Singh, the slim officer's khaki uniform distinguishing him as the commander of the army.

    “What are your recommendations, General?”

    “In the short term Madam President, we need to reissue our shaped charge munitions and update our heavy missile technology.” Singh was surprisingly soft spoken. “When fighting the Minbari, we found that by far the best weapon were sabot rounds, relatively small but very fast darts of metal optimised to pierce armour and damage the interior of an enemy vehicle. Our shaped charge shots were just too slow moving to accurately hit the Minbari grav tanks and the Minbari armour was very effective at dispersing the explosive component.”

    “Would they have helped against those robot war machines?”

    “Probably. Our sabot rounds were not useless but they simply didn't inflict enough damage before the enemy was able to close the range. We'll need to conduct more analysis but it appears the armour materials on these Battlemechs were resistant to the piercing ability of our sabots, robbing them of their main advantage. We had to hit the same part of the machine a few times to break away the structure and begin inflicting internal damage, and unfortunately our tank crews aren't trained that way.”

    “For the last two and a half centuries, the golden rule of tank combat has been to get the first shot in, and to make sure it's a single hit to kill.” Denisov helped the President. “As we moved out into space we found all our adversaries had the same idea, even the Minbari, so we simply refined our doctrine and carried on.”

    “We're going to need a completely new doctrine to handle mechs, especially if they are common in armies across this new galaxy.” Singh reasoned. “One with a strong focus on inflicting as much damage as possible as rapidly as possible.”

    “To that end, Madam President, we have two procurement goals.” Denisov fished out some more papers. “A new type of heavy tank, specifically a mech killer.”

    “Our existing tanks can't be modified?”

    “Not to the degree we need.” Singh shook his head. “Switching out the ammunition on our Thor tanks will help, but our tanks are designed for precision long range engagements. They simply don't hit hard enough, or just as importantly fast enough, to handle this threat.”

    “Likewise Madam President, while our Odin tanks do hit very hard, and we are recommending full scale production of them too, they are built on the same hull as the Thor and lack sufficient survivability.”

    “Like all of our vehicles, they are optimised to resist kinetic weapons, again as all of our enemies up to the Minbari used kinetic cannons.” Singh clarified. “That is something we need to adapt to.”

    Levy looked at the papers which contained a helpful engineers sketch with various annotations.

    “The Siegfried?”

    “Yes Ma'am, to maintain the mythological naming convention.” Denisov nodded. “We have two proposals, an ideal heavy tank and one we can put into production at the earliest date. The Siegfried is our urgent design using off the shelf components for rapid development.”

    It certainly looked intimidating to President Levy's civilian eyes, a large vehicle dominated by two extremely large looking cannons.

    “Will it be good enough?”

    “We believe so.” Singh confirmed. “The cannons are the same type we use on our ocean going cruisers, 175mm BilPro naval artillery. We already have a production line for them, in fact our goal is just to use the entire turret mechanism unmodified and put it on a tracked chassis. The guns, their mounts, the turret ring, the autoloaders, we'll just put them in tanks instead of ships.”

    “Does it need two guns?”

    “The warships use the guns in pairs so it's cheaper and quicker just to take the already in production system and use it as is.” Denisov explained. “If we reduce it to a single gun we'd need to redesign the mounts and autoloaders. It would make the tank smaller, but also more expensive and delay the project by months.”

    “There's also the rate of fire element.” Singh added. “Two guns gives us double the rate of fire, and while a single rapid firing gun would be better, our autoloading technology just isn't there yet. Not for guns this big.”

    “The chassis is a heavy excavator hull that we developed years ago for construction work on high gravity planets, very large and very sturdy.” The senior officer wrapped the description up. “We'll add as much armour as we can, but we need to balance that with keeping it air portable. On the plus side, it will use naval armour piercing shells which are designed to punch through heavy armour and then explode inside a target, that should ruin anyone's day.”

    “They also tend to be rocket boosted, at sea that gives the shots more range, but for us it adds muzzle velocity without worrying about recoil shaking the guns loose.” Singh winced at the idea. “It's not an ideal solution, but we can have a prototype within two months and if it works full production after another four.”

    “Alright.” Levy nodded. “What's your ideal solution?”

    “That would be Brunhilde.” Denisov handed over the last of his papers. “This is actually a design we drafted last year after we managed to get some data on the Minbari super heavy assault vehicles. At the time it was not considered practical, but things have changed.”

    This particular design did look considerably more aggressive. While the Siegfried was pretty much a regular tank supersized and given another cannon, this vehicle was more ambitious featuring articulated bogies for the tracks, a very low profile design, and a pair of absurdly huge cannons. It certainly followed a theme.

    “As you may recall Madam President, the Minbari super heavy vehicles shrugged off almost anything we could throw at it. Our urgent solution was the Odin, a big gun on an existing hull, but long term we wanted a vehicle that could outmatch the Minbari in every metric. Speed, protection, and of course firepower.”

    “The main armaments are 155mm Gauss guns, those weapons are currently only in prototype stage.” Singh pointed out on the illustration rather unnecessarily. “Once completed, they will be the most potent land based weapons known to exist, We can hopefully go back to one shot kills against all expected targets.”

    “The Brunhilde will also be fast, the wide tracks and independent suspension will allow it unrivalled mobility, and it will use warship grade armour.” Denisov rounded up. “Not to mention next generation sensors and computer controls.”

    “How long until these can be built, General?”

    “Two to three years, possibly more if we run into difficulties.” Denisov answered apologetically. “Which is why we need the Siegfried, good enough now is better than perfect tomorrow.”

    “It is also too large and heavy for our existing landing shuttles.” Singh chipped in. “So part of the project will also be a new heavyweight landing craft.”

    “Erm, hello, excuse me?” A small hand was raised from the opposite side of the room. “Can I make a suggestion?”

    “Doctor Ginelli.” The President looked away from the assorted description of weapons.

    “You remembered me?”

    “Very hard to forget you doctor.” Levy smiled but whether it was a compliment or not was far more ambiguous. “Did you have something to add? Please go ahead, I want to hear thoughts from all my advisors.”

    “Well, the tanks look great and sound useful, but why don't we just make our own battlemechs?”

    The two Generals gave her a blank expression before Singh spoke up.

    “We don't need them, the tanks will do the job.”

    “They are certainly great at shooting things, but they're not as versatile or mobile on the attack. Mrs. President, we've seen that in the hands of barely literate pirates mechs can be extremely destructive, imagine what we could do with them.”

    “At this point we don't know if we can even make our own, our analysis of the wrecks showed several pieces of technology we have no references for.”

    “Yes, mostly to do with the motive elements.” Ginelli remembered the notes. “I'm confident with proper study we could crack these secrets, and honestly Mrs President we really need to try.”

    “I disagree Ma'am.” Denisov countered. “It's better to refine and advance systems we know to be successful. Heavy tanks, superior missiles, and if possible increased funding for our next generation of Starfury which will have atmospheric capability.”

    “What do you think Professor Klein?” Levy turned to her most senior scientist. “Is it worth trying to replicate this new technology?”

    All eyes turned to the grey haired man, not so eye catching as his younger eclectic colleague but commanding respect as Earth's most accomplished physicist. His theories on gravitons had been groundbreaking and were on the brink of cracking one of the most massive technological developments of the era, true artificial gravity.

    “I think both suggestions are correct.” He concluded plainly. “We need those tanks and they will be ready first, it should be our priority. Even if we do find a way to build mechs, those machines will still need combined arms support, therefore the new generation of tanks is certainly not a dead end.”

    “But you think mechs have potential?” The President pushed.

    “I do, there is a reason they are so prized and widespread.” Klein nodded. “At the very least we will find ourselves fighting against them time and again in the future, the more we know about mechs the easier those battles will be.”

    “So you propose studying them?” Singh nodded. “I already have our engineers breaking them down, I'd welcome some help but I would have thought this sort of reverse engineering was beneath your team.”

    “My people are fully committed to Project Warlock, but Doctor Ginelli is free.”

    “No, I'm not.” She shot him a look. “Did you just fire me?”

    “Your work on the jump drive is done, your team can finish the rest.” Klein smiled. “And I know how much you like this sort of thing.”

    “But Dr Ginelli is a Hyperspace Physicist, not a weapons engineer?” Denisov frowned. “Is she best suited?”

    “As a team leader and driving force behind the project, yes. Think of her more as a manager and motivator.”

    “Manager?” Denisov looked like he was trying to swallow needles. “Your call, Madam President.”

    “I'm happy to follow Professor Kleins advice, but are you sure the work on the drives is done?”

    The older scientist yielded the floor to his younger increasingly agitated subordinate.

    “The teams looking at the local FTL system have made some key breakthroughs, yes.”

    “What she means,” Klein cut in, “is that she has personally cracked the principles behind these devices and worked out a way to build our own.”

    “Really?” Levy raised an eyebrow.

    “Well, I mean...” Ginelli stuttered.

    “Yes, she has.” Klein answered for her. “And if that's not worth a Nobel prize nothing is.”

    “I guess I wasn't getting one for zapping us all out here in the first place.” She winced inwardly. “But yes, I figured out the Germanium.”

    “That would be the Germanium Alloy core each local FTL drive requires.” Klein added helpful notes, a teacher assisting his student.

    “Yes, well, at first we all thought it was just a way to store the charge which is used to activate the hyperspace shunt.” Ginelli started, licking her lips. “I can explain this better if I had coffee.”

    “No, you can't.” Klein said firmly. “Go on.”

    She looked incredibly wounded and desolate for a moment, then pressed on. “All the navigators and engineers from the captured jump ship, they all said it was for the power charge, but when we swapped out the core and used our own capacitors, nothing happened. We delivered precisely the same charge, but it didn't initialise.”

    She rubbed her eyebrows, thinking through the compulsion for caffeine.

    “Then we learned more, like if you put two Germanium cores next to each other they also prevent a jump. That made no sense, because even an inert core had an effect. Turns out this particular alloy in this particular concentration when energised in a very specific way, turns into a tachyon calming device.”

    “Can you explain that for those of us who aren't Hyperspace Physicists?” Levy asked.

    “Yes, sure, well it's a bit like this. Tachyons are everywhere whizzing around us, through us, everywhere. We couldn't prove this until a century ago and from what I can tell nobody here has the instruments to detect tachyons, at least not anymore. The KF drive system basically works by creating a small pocket of hyperspace around a vessel and shunting it to another point in space. It is, as far as I can tell, using hyperspace as we know it, but it's a different dimension of hyperspace, far more compact and hence faster. Okay so far?”

    “So far.”

    “Right, well then, the issue I found was that this KF pocket is incredibly fragile and it can be easily disrupted by all the background tachyons. It stops the pocket from forming and you don't go anywhere, that's why my first attempts failed. So I go look at the Germanium, and it turns out this very specific alloy given a specific slow charge acts as a sort of lightning conductor, drawing in background tachyons and basically clearing the air for the KF pocket to form. That was the secret! The Germanium core created the right environmental conditions for the KF field, and that's why two cores near each other prevent a jump, they muddle each other and stop the clean redirection of tachyons.”

    “Incidentally Madam President, we are looking to see if this principle can be used to prevent accidental jump ins or outs of Sol.” Klein nudged into the story. “Given the value of keeping our location secret, it may be wise to ensure nobody who arrives here can leave without our approval.”

    “Isn't the reason we're all here right now down to manipulating background tachyons to inhibit FTL travel?” Denisov didn't frame it as an accusation but it may as well have been. “I don't think we want to do this again.”

    “It would be on a vastly smaller scale.” Klein expanded. “And only after much study.”

    “Anyway.” Ginelli wasn't finished. “Knowing that the secret was clearing the area around the KF field of background tachyons, I found a way to do it without Germanium.” She grinned, immensely proud. “We just use the tachyon directors from our own jump drives, easy.”

    “Imagine for a moment that not everyone knows how easy it is, Doctor.” Levy gently reminded.

    “Oh, right. Well our jump drives blast a stream of tachyons at some energised Quantium, the quantium creates a quantum twin for said tachyons in hyperspace, that's what quantium does, it exists both in and outside hyperspace simultaneously when energised. Anyway, we blast these tachyons, focus the stream ahead of a ship and where the two stream of twins meet, one in hyperspace and one in real space, they react and make a vortex. Simple as that.”

    “Yes, simple as that.” Levy gave up.

    “The important bit is the tachyon stream, or more exactly the energy fields we use to move those tachyons. We can manipulate them, direct them. In our drives, we want to concentrate them, but in a modified KF drive we do the reverse, we disperse them. We clear the sky so the KF pocket can form. That's it.”

    “The bottom line, Madam President,” Klein rode to the rescue, “is that we can now in theory build a Kearny Fuchida hyperspace shunt without needing Germanium, or Quantium, or any lengthy recharge times. Just existing common materials.”

    “Your saying you solved our hyperspace problem?” Denisov immediately perked up. “Unlimited FTL drives?”

    “In the sense we can build as many as we want? Yes.” Klein confirmed. “Right now, range is still limited to thirty or so lightyears while we figure out the navigation specifics, but recharge times are probably going to be comparable to our existing Jump engines. Twenty minutes or so.”

    “Fun fact, there are no actual range limitations as far as I can tell.” Ginelli chipped in excitedly. “It's just how well you can calculate your destination and regulate the energy input. It is extremely probable that there are ships that messed up their jumps billions of light-years away. Beyond the observable universe, which is incredible.” She paused for a second. “Though obviously not for them.”

    “We are still in the testing phase, but the physics is good, the underlying principles sound.” Klein nodded his head. “This will work.”

    “Perhaps I was wrong about you Doctor Ginelli.” Denisov half smiled at the hyperactive scientist. “Well, no, I was right, but in addition to that, you are an actual genius.”

    “It's good news, very good news, but I've heard the word tachyon so much I'll have to think about it all later.” Levy exhaled. “Let's take a break here, meet back this evening after we know what's happening on New Haiti.”

    “Very good, Madam President.” Her advisors all began to stand, Levy making eye contact with the young scientist and giving her a genuine smile.

    “You did well, you might just have increased our odds of survival considerably.”

    “After I put us here...”

    “After you managed to grant us a reprieve from extinction at the hands of the Minbari.” Levy corrected. “This must have taken a lot of work.”

    “A lot of coffee.” She grinned impishly. “I'd like to get back to studying what made us arrive here in the first place, I still can't figure it out, but maybe the Professor is right. Maybe I need a different project. Like big stompy robots.”

    “Oddly enough, I think that might be exactly where you belong right now.” Levy still managed to find a little joy in her exuberance despite all that had happened. “Celebrate your success doctor, I think we're here for the long term and our goal now is to make the best of it, to thrive here. You've helped make that real.”

    “So you'll let me experiment with giant heavily armed robots?” Ginelli asked hopefully.

    “I think you've earned it.”



    New Haiti

    Jaime's Leopard took its time on the approach, probably a little longer than it had to, as he made sure the ship got a good look at the city and it's surroundings. He guessed that his hosts were expecting him to take a good look at their operation, so why disappoint them? The dropship roared in and circled the landing zone, still rather rustic for a space port, but at least the new owners of New Haiti had implemented a functional air traffic control system. He landed gently, dropping the side personnel hatch and stepping down into the still humid and somewhat uncomfortable environment.

    “Colonel Wolf?”

    He recognised the voice greeting him, turning to spot a reasonably young officer with a crew cut and a neat blue uniform. It wasn't any uniform he recognised, but that wasn't surprising.

    “You must be Captain Sheridan, I appreciate the escort.” Jaime gave the slightest nod of the head maintaining an easy polite attitude. “I'm honoured to have a full Captain meet me, a warship Captain at that.”

    “I need to talk to the General too, saves time.” Sheridan lied, not very convincingly. Jaime suspected he wasn't trying to hide it. “Shall we?”

    They climbed into a very basic utility truck, plain grey with no doors and only the most basic of seating. It handled the mud effectively enough, pulling away from the dropship and beginning the careful journey across the field.

    “You came alone?” Sheridan fought with the steering wheel.

    “Call it a gesture of trust.” Jaime smiled slightly. “And an acknowledgement of the power dynamic. You have warships, I don't, so even if I brought my entire force and marched them all up to your front door, it wouldn't change a thing. I'd be just as much at your whim then as now, except if this is a betrayal, it would cost the lives of my best warriors.”

    Sheridan appreciated the candour.

    “Warriors, not soldiers?”

    “Warriors.” Jaime confirmed. “I'm aware there's a lot of semantics about the difference between soldiers and warriors, they're just words. As a combat unit, you'll have to look hard to find any as good as my Dragoons.”

    “Maybe not too hard.” Sheridan glanced at some passing Earth Force troops. “But I have heard your unit is about as good as mercenaries come.”

    “They're as good as anyone comes.” Jaime replied with obvious pride and utter conviction. “I was actually looking forward to breaking some pirates, always rewarding to kill an enemy who deserves it.” He peered out at the distant pirate dropships sitting on the edges of the field. “And nice to claim some of the spoils of war, those Jumpships in orbit too?”

    “Not like the pirates are going to be needing them.”

    He cleared the landing field and found a stony road, not exactly flat and well maintained but better than mud. He picked up speed, churning up a cloud of yellow dust behind the vehicle.

    “Never heard of the Earth Alliance before.” Jaime mentioned casually, but his eyes were keenly looking for a reaction. “Are you new to the region?”

    “Fairly.” Sheridan kept it cool, his father was legendary for his poker face and at least some of that had been passed down. He'd never mentioned the name, and all comms were secure tachyon based systems, so he had probably not hacked them. Best guess was he had seen it stencilled on the side of something. “We kept a low profile.”

    “Very low profile.” Jaime agreed. “There's no mention of you anywhere, not even a rumour. Well,” he smiled, “beside the usual stories of lost colonies and massed fleets in the deep periphery.”

    “A couple of people thought we were Kerensky's exiles come back with a vengeance.”

    “Really?” Jaime seemed to like that idea. “Imagine that.”

    He followed the road deeper into the town, the poor condition of the settlement obvious to see. They drove past a tank, the crew watching them go by quietly, mildly interested in Wolf's different uniform.

    “The pirates let this place go to hell, ran it into the ground.” Sheridan shook his head. “Perfectly decent planet like this? Might not be paradise, but a decent government could make a lot out of it.”

    “Maybe.” Jaime nodded. “But you'd have to find a decent government first.”

    “How about your employer? Prince Davion?”

    “There are worse out there, but these are not golden days for the Inner Sphere. They have fallen far.”

    “They?” Sheridan caught.

    “My people are from the Periphery, just like you.” Jaime answered easily. “But we all have a job to do, mine involves fighting for money.”

    “Just for money?”

    “That's the job, but, well, sometimes its nice to be paid for your hobbies.”

    Sheridan pulled onto the main highway, finally picking up some real speed.

    “Not to be obvious, and I bet everyone asks you this.” Jaime continued. “But where did you find a squadron of warships?”

    “They came with the uniform.”

    Jaime gave him a look, nodding in understanding. He didn't expect that information to be volunteered nearly so easily. “Pretty nice perk of the job. I know my history Captain, I'm actually pretty well informed on warships. Never seen your designs.”

    “No reason you should have.” Sheridan shrugged. “And yes, that is far beyond the scope of this meeting. As is any information about where I'm from and what my long term goals are.”

    “Just my nature to be curious, actually I'm glad.”

    “Why?”

    “If you just told me everything to try and impress me, I'd have told you to turn this truck around and put my straight back on my ship.” Jaime answered honestly. “I am a mercenary Captain, but I have standards and I do not suffer fools. I look forward to where this is going.”

    Sheridan swung the jeep round and into the central plaza, the somewhat battered governor's residence still overlooking the cobbled square. A pair of tanks greeted them, with several infantrymen stationed in key locations. Jaime quietly observed their deployments, tried to get a sense of their professionalism and demeanour in how they stood and acted, deeming them satisfactory.

    They pulled up, broken glass crunching under the wheels.

    “We still need to figure out where all the street cleaners went.” Sheridan stepped out first. “This place hasn't had a good sweep in about two hundred years.”

    “Maybe that'll change.” Jaime observed. “Any trouble from the locals?”

    “Nothing yet, I think a lot of them still don't understand what happened.”

    “Hard to build an independent proud population out of such a broken people.” Jaime glanced around. “Why even try? Aren't there other things to spend your resources on?”

    “Like all the other powers out there?” Sheridan guessed the logic.

    “That's the way it is, way it's been for a long, long time.”

    “But it doesn't have to stay that way.”

    He led the Colonel through the main entrance, a pair of sentries standing to as the officers walked by into the large lobby. The troopers had tidied it up, which basically meant piling all the junk in one room out of the way, but it at least meant the two visitors didn't trip on anything. They arrived at the governor's office, the door pushed closed but unlocked on account of the mechanism having been shot off. Sheridan knocked anyway and waited.

    “Come on through, it's about as unlocked as it gets.”

    Sheridan pushed the door aside and let Jaime go in first, the office absolutely empty apart from a desk and a few mismatched chairs retrieved from different parts of the building. Most of the windows were boarded up, but enough sun shone through to highlight all the dust in the air.

    “Colonel Jaime Wolf, Wolf's Dragoons.” The officer formally introduced himself.

    “Brigadier General Robert Fraser, Fourth Assault Brigade.” The host responded. “Grab a chair Colonel, you too, Captain. I have water if you can stand it, the fella who used to live here left some booze, but I'm pretty sure you could fuel a jet fighter with it.”

    ”I'll take a pass.” Jaime smiled slightly and settled into a colourful wooden chair, Sheridan and Fraser forming two other points of a triangle. “But thank you for the offer.”

    “Well Colonel, I understand you wanted to talk about something in person?”

    “I did, I could have asked over the radio but I wanted to actually meet you first. As I am sure Captain Sheridan has already figured out, I put a lot of stock in the people I work beside. I am a mercenary, but I can afford to pick and choose my jobs, and who I fight beside.”

    “Is that why you are here?”

    “I have a simple proposal General, one that benefits us both, makes my employer happy, and fulfills the terms of my contract.” Jaime got to work. “I want your forces and mine to attack Tortuga together.”

    Fraser looked over to Sheridan, then back to Jaime with a look of mild amusement.

    “Quite a suggestion out of nowhere Colonel.”

    “I wasn't sure I wanted to make it until I got a better sense for who you are, and just as importantly why you are here.” Jaime spoke honestly. “But I can tell your soldiers are competent, well equipped for a mobile force, and your intentions are honourable. As I told Captain Sheridan, I have standards.”

    “I appreciate your assessment, but we don't need help crushing Tortuga.”

    “Of course you don't and neither do we.” Jaime acknowledged. “That's not the point, this isn't about the stronger aiding the weaker, it is two warriors fighting shoulder to shoulder against an enemy that deserves death.”

    “Sounds poetic, but if I can speak plainly?”

    “I'd be disappointed if you didn't.”

    “We know your name, some of the hype surrounding your boys, but we don't know you. Why would we trust you to fight beside us?”

    “I am sure my regimental commanders will ask the same thing, and I will tell them that there is honour in a worth battle with a strong ally.” Jaime smiled. “And then I'll tell them that we could use your artillery and air support, because even though either of us alone can win this battle, it will be vastly easier if we work together. And of course, less costly in lives.”

    “That all kind of relies on if you are as good as you say you are.” Fraser held firm. “It's a lot to risk. We only have your word you are here to kill pirates, can I be sure you won't turn on my boys and girls once the shooting starts?”

    “If we did turn on you, I am sure Captain Sheridan's big guns would quickly punish us for our rank stupidity.” Jaime noted. “Your forces lack a battlemech contingent, you seem like a reconnaissance in force rather than a full planetary assault unit. I can give you the hammer you need, two full regiments of elite combined arms troops. In return you support us with artillery, airpower, and additional infantry regiments for urban combat.”

    “And after Tortuga falls?”

    “My people go home, our contract fulfilled. That's all.”

    “And if your employer asks what happened out here?”

    “I'll tell him.” Jaime said true. “I can't lie to the man paying my wages, and I don't think I need to.”

    “Well I can't deny some heavy armour would be very useful. I'll need to talk to my superiors, I'm expecting to be relieved which would free my unit up. Perhaps a joint operation might be to our benefit.”

    “I think it would be General.”

    “I'll let you know in the next few days, Colonel.” Fraser gave a nod. “Feel free to look around town while you're here.”

    “That would be... thrilling.”

    Fraser broke a laugh. “Aye, you're not wrong Colonel. I'd offer some hospitality if I had it but...” He trailed off, waving his hands around the room.

    “No apology needed.” Jaime stood. “I'll head back to my ship.”

    “I'll get you a driver. Hey! Jack! Get Colonel Wolf a ride back to his boat!”

    “Yes sir!” A voice answered faintly from beyond the door.

    “Well I hope to see you back soon Colonel Wolf, frankly I am very keen to see your people in action.”

    “That works out well, we're very keen to be in action. Good meeting you General.” He shook hands confidently. “And you Captain Sheridan, until next time.”

    The two officers let Wolf leave, giving him plenty of time to drive off before sitting back down.

    “He knows we're not local, and he knows we're called the Earth Alliance.”

    “Did you tell him?” Fraser frowned. “Nah, he probably read it on the side of your ship. That just proves he has eyes.”

    “He's sharp General, maybe he is doing this to reduce casualties among his men, but I also think he's measuring us up.”

    “No doubt about it.”

    “So we refuse his request?”

    “No.” Fraser shook his head. “We take it, we go in alongside him, and we give Tortuga a damn good thrashing.”

    Sheridan shifted his weight a little, not sure what the play was.

    “General, we should be careful trusting him. Our orders are to guard information about ourselves. I can guarantee you that man is smart enough to walk away with a hell of a lot more than we want him to.”

    “Maybe so, it is a gamble, but this is also our best chance to see what a professional mech army can do without risking ourselves in the process.”

    Sheridan began to understand.

    “I lost thirty tanks to four mechs Captain, and while I am confident that won't happen again, I was up against pirates in old machines. Imagine if they had been real soldiers, if they had coordinated their attacks, supported each other, employed real combined arms.” Fraser grimaced. “Nah Captain, I don't think command properly realises yet how serious the situation is.”

    “So we go in with these guys, record every second, and then make sure the Joint Chiefs see what we'd be up against in a real war?”

    “Got it in one, Captain.” Fraser smiled. “We see the capabilities of a professional mech force, see how good well maintained machines are, what sort of performance real soldiers can deliver. We'll gauge their tactics, see how they implement combined arms, follow their command and control. This is an immense opportunity, and while there is risk on our side, the benefits vastly outweigh them.”

    “Understood General, anything I can do to help?”

    “I'll handle it. I'm sure this will be a presidential decision so I'll call home soon, then pretend it took two days to get an answer. Should also be enough time for Second Corps to arrive and garrison this place.”

    “There is one issue General.” Sheridan raised. “We're not even a quarter the way to Tortuga with the Explorers, we can't deploy for another few months.”

    “Plus we don't want them learning about hyperspace.” Fraser nodded. “I know Captain, already thought about that.”

    “So how do we get there sir?”

    “We have you to thank for that Captain, how many jumpships did you snatch from those bandits?”




    Jaime Wolf thanked the driver as he got out of the jeep and walked the last few paces back to his dropship. He was smiling, a smile that grew wider as he spotted a familiar figure waiting for him.

    “Did they buy it?”

    “No, they did not buy it.” Jaime answered. “They didn't need to, these are professionals, I didn't need to bullshit them.”

    Natasha Kerensky just gave him a shrug. “So we on then?”

    “Yes, we're on. The General's making us wait but he's already made his mind up, he's only got a light force here, he's going to need us.”

    “He doesn't need a mech assault, he's got warships.”

    “Which they use very sparingly.” Jaime observed. “Their Captain is an idealist, it's actually refreshing. I don't think they want to throw down massive firepower, they want to do this clean. They see themselves as liberators fixing things, not conquerors.”

    “So they're Davions then?”

    “Maybe, but I don't think so. There's far too much wrong here, everything is familiar, but it doesn't exactly fit.” He felt like he was holding several pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, enough to make a picture revealing some of the whole, but with no clue how much was hidden.

    “Well while you figure it out, I'll just be killing pirates and making us look good, fair?”

    “Fair.” Jaime allowed a slight chuckle. “Anyway, let this be a lesson on the value of doing things by the book.”

    She gave him a sharp glare. “I’m not going to say it.”

    “To think some of my senior commanders wanted to just jump in here blind because it was only a bunch of pirates.” Jaime let himself enjoy a little teasing. “Can you imagine?”

    “Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “You were right. Did they notice?”

    “I don’t think so, they probably thought our jump scout was just another ship out of Tortuga gathering intel for their counterattack.” Jaime reasoned. “They weren’t expecting us.”

    “They’re definitely not local, no drop ships, no docking collars on their warships.” She nodded across the field. “And check out those pirate mechs they captured, they’ve got no idea how to move them.”

    “Curiouser and curiouser.” Jaime agreed. “And you saw their warship, the Lexington? She’d been heavily repaired, very recently too, the different patterns in the metal made it obvious. How many people do you think can do that to a warship?”

    “No one we’ve met.” Natasha understood. “So we’ve got a completely unknown group with no records anywhere, no point of origin, no clue on their agenda, who have access to warships and who have just been fighting someone else out here who was tough enough to shred their flagship. That about cover it?”

    “Aren’t you glad you came along now?” Jaime arched an amused eyebrow. “Life needs a good mystery, doesn’t it?”

    “Yeah.” She deadpanned back at him. “Yay.”

    “Let's eat, keep an eye on things.” Jaime decided that was probably enough for now. “We might finally have something useful to report.”
     
    Chapter 10
  • 10

    Raider's Roost
    Capital of Tortuga


    “I just... I just feel used. Like, I am valuable, I am important, I have skills. So why don't I feel that way? I love my job, but I hate my job. Does any of this make sense, Al?”

    “Of course it does Bonny, you need to be less harsh on yourself. You are just trying to live your best life, trying to do what you love and your boss is pushing you down.”

    “You think so, Al?”

    “You belong in the sky, Bonny, you are an amazing pilot.”

    “You really think so? Even though I just fly a passenger shuttle?”

    “You fly the family of Ripper Sacha, the second most powerful pirate lord on this rock. It is a position of incredible responsibility and trust. You deserve it, and let's be honest, anyone called Ripper is unlikely to be a caring and considerate boss.”

    She giggled sheepishly, her friend brushing his fingers through her hair. She hadn't known him long, barely a few days, but she could already easily see herself spending her whole life with him. She was in bliss, every second in his presence was pure joy.

    “Alas, parting is such sweet sorrow.” He exhaled heavily. “I must leave, will you be alright without me?”

    “I will Al, I promise.”

    “Good, you are a useful person Bonny. You'll probably be called to work soon, to evacuate Ripper and his family. Do you remember what we discussed?”

    “The alternate flight path.” She nodded enthusiastically. “Of course.”

    “Repeat it to me, so I know you were listening.”

    “I take off, fly for the shelter as usual, but when I reach three thousand feet I point the nose at the ground, open the throttles and try to break the soundbarrier before landing.”

    “Perfect.” Al smiled widely, it was not a smile for her. “Make sure his whole family is aboard, and lock the door behind you.”

    “I will Al, I promise.”

    “Good, then I must go and start work. I think today will be very busy.”

    He walked to the door and opened it, Bonny could no longer hold back.

    “Al, I love you!”

    “Of course you do.” He smiled back. “Be seeing you.”



    Above Tortuga

    The actual deployment was pretty straightforward, the combined force jumping in neatly at the pirate point over Tortuga in a clean display of precision navigation. Hitting a pirate point wasn't the easiest thing to do, and the one at Tortuga was particularly challenging as the planet had multiple moons, making the interaction or gravitational forces excessively complex. Captain Sheridan had provided the coordinates, officially from data recovered aboard the captured pirate jumpships, but truthfully from the mix of advanced computational power mixed with real time sensor monitoring.

    Nobody was waiting to meet them, no defences were on standby even if they had known exactly where and when the invasion fleet would arrive. The last of the Aerospace fighters had already made their move, docking with the Pirate King Kalvin Bar-Dyness' last surviving jump ship some days ago and by now in position to leave at the solar zenith. The only reason more rats hadn't abandoned the sinking ship was simply that there was no other way off.

    Both halves of the invasion force had brought an identical number of drop ships, though Colonel Wolf's contingent was much cleaner than the repurposed Pirate units Fraser was using. Aerospace fighters deployed on behalf of the Dragoons to form a screen ahead of the troop laden transports, both contingents rapidly and perfectly aligning toward the planet and assuming drop formation. While the Earth Force pilots had only had a week to get to grips with their new vessels, the principles were simple enough and easy to adapt to.

    “General Fraser, are you prepared?” Jaime Wolf opened a channel from the cockpit of his Archer, already set to lead his people from the front.

    “Colonel, we can begin our advance, but make sure to follow the timetable precisely.” The voice of the Earth Force General hissed and crackled. “This operation is timed down to the second without much margin for error. I'm trusting your warriors are as disciplined and skilled as you say they are, Colonel Wolf.”

    “You have my word.” Jaime assured. “Are we waiting for additional support?”

    “There are other assets in play.” Fraser confirmed but kept it ambiguous.

    “Should I warn my pilots to be alert for a warship to support us?”

    “Only as a matter of last resort.”

    “I see.” Jaime kept his tone steady. He had expected his allies to throw in a decent sized assault force, warships, aerospace fighters, waves of dropships or at least their drop shuttles. He had not expected them to send a couple of stolen, make that liberated, jump ships and some ragged looking Overlords. He could think of several reasons for it, ranging from suspicion to paranoia. Most likely they didn't trust Wolf, which at least meant they were cautious and he could respect caution in a warrior. But not at the expense of being bold or risking the mission by deploying insufficient firepower.

    “We'll hold to the schedule General.”



    Raider's Roost
    Capital of Tortuga


    “We are immortal!”

    Two dozen voices roared back, the hall reverberating with the din.

    “We are unstoppable!” Dirk the Knife, Bosun of the Bloody Bastard gang, stretched out his arms, the hefty Pirate Lord whipping up his commanders to a suitable frenzy. “We are unequalled!”

    His cadre roared back, waving goblets of very potent rum as was their tradition, most already drunk on the locally produced rotgut. Dirk didn't really care, he hadn't hired these men and women because he wanted cold clinical planning. They weren't clear headed, meticulous warriors, they were psychopaths. These were the first into action, inspiring the lesser troops to follow them. They lead in the simplest possible sense of the word, which was usually enough to get the equally drunk or drugged up rank and file to throw themselves at a problem.

    Normally it was enough to overwhelm an enemy in crazed thugs, bury them in dead bodies, but if they were about to face Wolf's Dragoons, then no amount of human waves would win the day. However, it would buy Dirk time to get out of town and vanish into his safe house until all this blew over.

    “Drink your fill! Plenty more when we've pushed those pansies off our planet!” He grabbed another cup from one of the serving wenches, raising the cup high and then downing the whole half pint in one go, a significant amount running down his straggly rough beard. “Bleed them, my boys! Bleed the bastards dry!”

    With a final roaring cheer, the host downed the last of their rum and thundered out of the building, each one of the gang laden with a massive selection of weapons and thrown together body armour. They were worthless out in the open, but absolute nightmares in the close confines of city streets or the corridors of a spaceship. They'd do their job, probably give any Dragoon infantry a bloody nose, and then never need a cut of the spoils when the invaders left and the power games began again.

    He guessed it might take a few months, but this wasn't the first raid he'd endured, they were a good way of removing opposition and clearing the path to advancement. Kalvin was done, wherever he was. Dirk suspected the current Pirate King wasn't going to make it to sunset, and odds were a bunch of other Council members were about to get mauled. All he had to do was hide out, wait, make sure he had a few allies left, then make his move.

    It wasn't a bad plan, he was actually quite enthusiastic about it, which is why it took him a few moments to notice the pitter patter of blood hitting the floor at the tip of his boots. It took a while to figure out where it was coming from, he wasn't injured or in pain, but that was definitely blood spots falling to the ground. It could have been the alcohol impairing his cognitive functions, but he hadn't drunken nearly enough, something was wrong.

    He touched his nose, his fingers coming away bloody. He could taste the iron rich substance running down the back of his throat, clumping on his beard, it wasn't dripping now, it was a stream. Within twenty seconds he'd gone from laughing to spinning, the world blurring as dizziness overwhelmed him. At some point, he figured out to, his surprise, he was on the floor staring up with no idea how he had got there or how long it had been. He was vaguely aware of another person, the serving wench standing next to him staring down. He tried to speak, to grab her, to make her get him some help. Nothing happened, no words, no movement, the world just became ever more distant until he saw nothing anymore.

    “Zero, two.” Agent Samantha Kyle tapped the communicator disguised as a bracelet on her wrist. “Primary node eliminated, secondary is taking a while.”

    “Why?”

    “Poison was applied through alcohol, but the assault squad leaders have taken some type of drug. Expect poison to still work, but need to add several additional minutes.”

    “Received. Proceed to next node.”

    “Moving.”



    “Dropships are forming up above us, my money's on that they're gonna hit the spaceport first.”

    “Course they fuckin' are, only thing worth havin!”

    Miles 'Out' Masterson spat out some chewing tobacco into the corner of the control room, the radar screens giving him a decent view of the impending attack. The room itself was surprisingly large and once upon a time had been a fully functional planetary defence centre with linked sensor stations, weapons batteries, and aerospace bases. Today, it was eight men with four functional consoles and a single ground to air weapons cluster.

    “They ain't moved yet Bosun, they just be sitting there.”

    “They'll come.” Miles was certain. He was an older man, like his small staff and the actual gun crews on the edge of town manning the defensive battery, he had been a pirate until injury took him off the front lines. Too wounded to fight and too poor to retire he ended up serving the Dominion in this far less glorious capacity. “Them guns ready?”

    “Aye boss, guns ready. Have to wait 'til they get a lot closer though.”

    “Make sure they don't spaff all their ammo on...”

    He was interrupted be a series of electronic sounding hisses mixed with the whines of a device powering up. He spun at once, and on the pistol hanging at his waist, but saw nothing. Miles turned again, eyes zipping around the run down command centre trying to decide where that noise had come from. It sounded close, but nothing looked different. He was paranoid enough to know it wasn't his imagination, something was definitely feeling off.

    “Watch those ships, I'm going to check something.”

    He made it one pace before the air exploded in searing plasma, a stream of red blowing energy bolts the slammed into his chest emerging out of thin air and dropping him before he had any idea he was under attack. In the same instant, several more bursts of plasma ripped across the personnel manning the consoles, the entire room filled for a few seconds with the sizzle of plasma bolts and then total silence.

    “Zero, One.” A voice spoke from nowhere. “Node eliminated. Moving on.”

    Ben Groves materialised from nowhere, dragging back the fabric hood covering his face and allowing the Black Light holographic camouflage to do its job. Around him the rest of the commando also became corporeal, half of them taking overwatch positions, while the other half began rifling through equipment packs and fishing it small demolition charges.

    “Blow the consoles and lets go.” Groves oversaw the team, the highly trained special forces finishing the task in seconds. He tapped his wrist communicator to open a fresh channel. “Team two, this is one, control centre is down. Blow the guns, then head to the rally point.”

    “Copy.” A voice responded. “Already on our way out.”

    “All set.” The Commando leader reported. “Timers set.”

    “We'll head to the rally point.” Groves moved onto the next part of his mission. “How's your power?”

    “Good for another two hours.”

    “Alright then.” Groves dragged his hood back over his face. “Disappear.”



    The distant rumble of explosions rolled over the city, disturbing the flocks of pigeons and rats that scurried for deeper shelter. Black smoke rose on the horizon, signalling the end of the only anti dropship gun battery in the hemisphere, the Pirate Kingdom not well known for long term forward planning. While the leadership had known trouble was coming for a while, this was the first sign most of the general population had been given that things were about to change.

    None of the Council of Damned, the most powerful of the Pirate band Captains that exerted influence over the Dominion, had any illusions that they could stop a planetary assault, especially not one spear headed by Wolf's Dragoons. Their space assets were mostly gone, along with nearly half of their mechs. They still had about sixty thousand men under arms, many of them pumped full of so many drugs, they'd willingly try to wrestle with a battlemech, but they were very much just a distraction. The game here was well and truly done.

    The older and smarter of the Captains had long known this was a possibility, that sooner or later they would push one of the bigger powers to the point they'd lash out and send a real army to deal with them. Consequently, each had his or her own escape plan, be that a safe house or a hidden bunker or a secret way off the planet they would initiate the second it became obvious they were in danger. The Pirate King himself was already long gone, taking the last pirate jumpship with him, but there were still enough civilian owned jumpships that had trade contracts with the pirates to provide an escape route for those who could afford it.

    Now it was obvious war was coming, the spaceports would soon be flooded with people trying to escape. The Pirate Lords had the advantage of a head start and of course plenty of people with guns to ensure they got their seat on the last transport out.

    Agent Jiang Li watched from the edge of an alleyway teeming with discarded rubbish and people. The assorted beggars and homeless watched the rising smoke with wide eyes, many grabbing their scant belongings and retreating further into the shadows, hoping to be further forgotten. Jiang pitied them, he'd lived among them on and off while conducting surveillance, one of his many disguises, and had come to know several of the unfortunates. Some were escaped slaves, others failed pirates, some were factory workers or farmers whose livelihoods had been stolen or destroyed by gangs of thugs. Nobody cared, they were just left to starve.

    One of the Pirate Lords who lived at the top of the broken system was visible in the distance, throwing chests filled with treasures in the back of an expensive looking car. It was bitterly amusing watching a pirate hauling literal wooden treasure chests from an expensive looking town house barely fifty yards from a homeless colony. The Pirate assembled his bodyguards, distributed handfuls of gold to ensure their loyalty, and then loaded everyone up into a small convoy of armed trucks with his luxury car in the middle.

    Jiang wondered what the overall plan was, surely the body guards knew those wooden chests were filled with actual pirate treasure? Did this Pirate Lord really think they were going to defend him for just a few palmfuls of gold? Did he have another plan to make sure they didn't just slit his throat and keep the treasure themselves once they used him to reach safety? It was literally a cut throat kingdom. Jiang knew of at least three Pirate Lords who were already dead, victims of rivals once the anarchy had started. He knew the Pirate King had already run with his crew, and he knew that by now he had almost certainly been murdered by his second in command, the smart but psychotic Paula Trevaine.

    Part of him wanted to follow the convoy and see how the inevitable betrayal unfolded, but he had other more urgent responsibilities today. So instead, he stayed where he was shrouded in rags, one more beggar beneath notice, and he watched the convoy set off. He watched it travel to a safe distance, a location with thick walls and no innocent people nearby, and then he watched as the bomb he'd placed under the driver's seat detonated in a flash of dirty grey smoke and shrapnel.

    Jiang had no idea what the pirates considered to be security. He had ultimately decided that it was just fear, terrifying people to the point that nobody dared move against them for fear of the consequences. Killing a pirate lord would bring all the others down on the perpetrator, the leaders not defending their dead rival, but very keen to defend the system. Of course, the whole thing fell apart when it collided with a group that had no fear of these jumped up criminals, and that warmly welcomed the immediate violent counter attack. It kept the power games isolated within the ruling council, which also meant that once eliminated, there was nothing to replace the pirate lords. They never delegated authority, there was no real backup or bureaucracy to carry on automatically, remove the head and the Dominions became paralysed.

    That was the sum of their work, nine months of study, infiltration, mapping out places and persons of interest. They knew the fine details of every person of significance, the whole Council of the Damned. Where they lived, what they ate, who they kept close and who they feared. They knew which car they preferred, what mistress was visited on what day, which vices were most favoured and which were hidden. Jiang's people knew where all the secrets were buried, where the vulnerabilities lay. It had been painfully easy, given the absolute lack of even basic precautions. Only one Pirate Lord had been cautious enough to really hide his business and he had met with an accident early in the mission. An easily arranged accident.

    In the end it was nice bit of exercise, a practice run before deploying into the far more challenging arena of the Great Houses. Their job here was now almost complete, the main Pirate Lords were dead, their defences shattered, their secrets learned. All that remained was to gather the teams, collect all the data they had stowed away, and wait for retrieval. A lengthy debrief waited, probably months of questions and talking to the next wave of operatives to prepare them for life in this new reality. Oh, and a bunch of precise brain scans to make sure Psi Corps hadn't messed with their minds.

    Al Bester had been an incredibly useful asset, but at the same time skin crawling to be around. Jiang suspected it was deliberate, that Bester found amusement in making others uncomfortable. All human telepaths had to follow very strict rules and laws regarding their abilities, this mission had broken them all several times over. It was very morally questionable, but by far the worst thing was how easily Bester had done every dark deed asked of him. Jiang knew people, and he knew this was not the first time Bester had used his telepathy to destroy lives.

    There was a clatter of gunfire as the bodyguards started killing each other over the treasures in the now burning luxury car, slaughtering for gold and jewels as was the stereotype. Already the homeless masses near Jiang had become aware of the opportunity. They could see the scattered gold after the explosion and were gathering, eyes wide in wonder and greed. The bodyguards had no idea of this danger, they would kill each other and the handful of wounded survivors would be beaten to death by this gathering horde. Perhaps there was some justice there, but Jiang had no desire to see it. He was done with this planet.



    The countdown reached its conclusion, the very second it did, both squadrons of dropships burning into life and angling for the planet. Wolf's forces took the lead as was their duty as the primary assault force, with the Alliance units following on. Their landing point was the primary spaceport outside of Raider's Roost, an obvious target but again, Wolf didn't mind that. Let the pirates try and stop them, his people could use the exercise.

    His cockpit displays flashed a message up on his HUD, a relay from the dropship sensors informing him of multiple explosions on the surface among the planetary defences. He smiled slightly, the pieces falling into place.

    “General Fraser, my compliments.” He communicated. “I see the strict timetable was for more than just rigid procedure.”

    “Makes life a little easier for both of us.” The General answered, clearly quite pleased all had gone well. “That should remove the planetary defences, centralised control facilities, and any senior leaders who might have rallied the ground forces against us.”

    “Almost takes the challenge out of it.” Wolf's voice had a slight tinge of disappointment. “I still have six mobile groups including an understrength battalion of mechs. That should keep us busy for an hour or so.”

    “My people will secure the spaceport and roll out artillery and gunships, if you need them you have the frequency, they'll respond to your fire missions.”

    “That will be very useful, I'll see you on the ground General.”

    “Good hunting, Colonel Wolf.”

    He closed the uplink, his lance comms still open. “Did you get all that?”

    “I heard.” Natasha displayed little interest in the manoeuvres. “He's still holding back.”

    “He doesn't want us to know his full capabilities, just like we're keeping secrets ourselves.” Wolf chuckled. “The games we play.”

    “So what's the order? Do we go full assault on these scumbags?”

    “Of course we do, let our new friends watch, we'll give them a taste of what we can do.” Wolf nodded. “Then once they understand, let's see if we can keep communications open. When our contract with the Davions is over we should see if we can find work out here.”

    “Instead of the Capellans?”

    “We can do both, a small detachment out here perhaps, while our main force remains in the Inner Sphere.” Wolf mused. “This is part of our mission, we have no idea if this is a tiny faction that got lucky holding on to a fleet, or the vanguard of something far more serious.”

    “Maybe they have the same mission we do, testing the great houses to see if they can put up much of a fight?”

    “That's what I was thinking.” Wolf agreed. “We'll play along, earn some trust and go from there. Right now though, we have a contract to fulfil. You know what to do.”

    “Thought you'd never ask.”




    Even before the Commando raid, there was nothing Tortuga could realistically do to even slow down Wolf's Dragoons. The dropships arced down through the sky, blazing a trail as they touched the atmosphere, their crews aiming to put the orbs down as quickly as possible. Ahead, the Aerospace fighters took point, preceding the troop ships and clearing the way for a safe drop. The Pirate space fighters were long gone, only a handful of atmosphere only jet fighters rose up to meet the incoming attack, all of them dispatched with negligible effort by the Dragoon's escorts.

    One by one each ship touched down, engines burning hard to halt the descent and put each vessel down safely. This wasn't a true hot drop, Wolf didn't need to throw his jump jet powered mechs on the way down to clear a landing site and could take a little time organising his units. The various Lances deploying rapidly and setting off to march for the city.

    “Primary target is hostile mech company at twenty two miles north.” Wolf read the data flowing in to his command system, the venerable Archer stepping aside to clear the way for more units. He liked to lead from the front, but strictly speaking this wasn't his operation. He'd leave the actual tactical elements to his Regimental commanders, content to keep his Command Lance in reserve watching the big picture. “Then we'll secure the main road into the city and let the infantry advance.”

    “Fraser's ships are touching down, do we wait for his tanks?”

    “We don't need them for this part of the mission, but they'll be handy to back up the infantry.” Wolf reasoned. “Audacious, not reckless. Advance and engage.”
     
    Chapter 11
  • 11

    Cooperland
    Newly Founded Earth Alliance Colony


    It actually took a moment for John Sheridan to realize how special it was to actually just run through a jumpgate sequence. It was such a routine thing drilled into both himself and his crew, it wasn't until they were almost through he noted that he hadn't actually used a gate since leaving Earth. The sequence worked as planned, dropping the Lexington into the new colony, the skeletal gateway cutting off behind them.

    "That's the Centauri gate." He recognized immediately. "The original gate from just after the First Contact. We turned it off when we learned to build our own, but never took it apart. Pure history."

    "History with several billion credits worth of Quantium in her bones." Commander Carroll noted. "I'm surprised the Senate didn't strip it bare."

    "Maybe they realized the value of a Plan B?" Sheridan guessed. "Politicians like money, but they like saving their asses more."

    "I hear that, sir."

    The gate had originally orbited Earth and had been built by the Centauri, which of course meant it wasn't really secure and could have all types of hidden codes and backdoors allowing it to be overridden by the Centauri Navy. When the Io gate had been built at a far more secure distance from Earth, the old gate was left at the Venusian science museum, unable to be re-deployed just in case the Centauri really did have a backdoor to it. At least that wasn't an issue anymore.

    Orbit over Cooperland was bustling, the installation of the gate had opened the system up to the massed fleets of the civilian corporations that until now had been trapped around Earth. Sheridan lost count at a hundred Belt Alliance freighters, and their armed escorts, busying around the frame of a Dionysus pre-fab starbase gradually taking form in orbit.

    "Earth Gov didn't waste any time on this one." Carroll noticed. "It's gone from an abandoned rock to a full scale outpost in about a month."

    "They want something to focus people on, killing pirates is fine, but its better to make something, grow something." Sheridan reasoned. "Might be a while before we get real civilians down there, last I heard its more scientific and military teams for the moment."

    There was a small squadron of ships holding station a safe distance away and probably a few more covering the solar ingress points, but they were vastly outnumbered by civilian assets. Once the space station was done in a week or so, the colony would start to grow exponentially, the only limit was finding colonists. No doubt there were plenty of people who wanted to get off Earth, assorted refugees or those just sick of this entire situation. But at the same time, there would be many who remembered what had happened to the previous colonies.

    "Captain, we have clearance for orbit, New Bremen city is keen for us to deliver our cargo."

    "They went with New Bremen? Fair enough." Sheridan shrugged. "I know dad was going for New Akron."

    "All due respect to your father sir, nobody wants to live in a place that sounds like a cat with a hairball."

    "Just get those cargo ships into position." Sheridan shot him a sideways grin. "Then arrange some shore leave, strange new worlds Commander."



    One of the prominent buildings in New Bremen was the Hyundyne research complex, a rather large estate set on one side of the very pleasant river plain selected for the city. It was an ideal example of its type, a glass and concrete set of labs and offices with lush green lawns and pretty forests behind, plus excellent views of the clean river to the front. So far, it was still relatively empty, but in time it would serve as an alternate research centre for much of the new technology flowing in from this new reality.

    The city itself was still mostly under construction, but already the core civic buildings were upright, power stations and water plants lined the river bank, while hydroponics facilities were starting to sprout. In time, real farms would hopefully take over food production, but for now the hydroponics would cover any shortfalls in food deliveries.

    Earth had worked out the fine art of rapid construction during the recent expansion, there were several corporations that could throw a city up in a week or two with fast curing concrete and locally forged steel and glass. Automated foundries positioned in key locations tied to mines churned out building materials around the clock, keeping the vast numbers of construction workers busy. For the time being, the planetary population was mostly those construction workers and a garrison of troops deployed a few miles away at an equally new base, but included among them were the first of the civilian administration and some scientists.

    One such scientist was in a spotless empty lab looking out over those sunny fields and forests sitting awkwardly in a chair. While normal at first glance, the scene became a little more unusual as the chair rose into the air.

    "I love this job so much."

    Sheridan tapped on the open door, the scientist in question falling out of the chair which was suspended a couple of feet above the ground by some springy looking wires.

    "I'm okay! I didn't hide it!"

    Sheridan frowned in the sunlight.

    "Hide what?"

    "You haven't found it?" She scrutinized him, eyebrows raising. "Nothing. I've hidden nothing."

    "Doctor Ginelli." Sheridan didn't need to make it a question, she fit the description a hundred percent. "I brought you some cargo."

    "That's great, but how much do you weigh?"

    "How...?"

    "Doesn't matter." She bolted over, grabbed his arm and pulled him into the room. "Here, sit in the chair, just there."

    She led Sheridan toward her chair, the Captain observing upon closer inspection that it was suspended by four very thin fibers of material hooked to the roof. Ginelli rapidly positioned him on the seat and stepped back.

    "Right, stand by, you're going to move."

    She picked up a data tablet from one of the tables and tapped some controls, the chair and Sheridan gently rising.

    "Perfect!" Ginelli enthused, her whole being sparking. "These things are incredible!"

    "Can I ask what I'm actually doing here doctor?"

    "Huh, oh, Myomer." She answered as if that should be quite sufficient for anyone.

    "What's myomer?" Sheridan decided to push on, his own curious nature awakened. "These strings?"

    "Exactly, they're samples pulled from battlemech wreckage, I got some diverted here from Earth." She answered. "Basically artificial muscle, apply an electric current and you can make them contract."

    "And they're strong enough to lift a grown man. Not bad."

    "They're used in thick bundles in mechs, these are just some samples. Trying to work out their limits." She lowered the chair to the ground with a few swipes. "Okay, so it can lift a better than average male specimen."

    "Thanks." Sheridan beamed a smile. "How much better than average?"

    "Here, hold this." If she had heard him it hadn't clicked in her brain, instead she dropped a box of lab equipment on his lap with a jolt. "One male plus twenty five kilos."

    She raised the chair again, looking closely at the myomer, at one point breaking out a magnifying glass.

    "No sign of fraying yet, material appears stable."

    "I hate to interrupt doctor but I do have an appointment with..."

    "Shush, this is science, we're doing science." Ginelli was utterly focused. "Won't take long."

    "I suppose I can manage a few minutes." Sheridan decided this was more amusing than annoying, so played along. "For pushing forward the boundaries of science."

    "Good man!" She lowered him down and took away the box. "Right, more weight. Ah-ha, stay still."

    Ginelli, with no warning or indication of intent, leapt onto Sheridan's lap wrapping her legs around his waist and the back of the chair.

    "Woah there doctor, I think we're pushing this a little too far now!" Sheridan was trapped, the scientist far too focused to care.

    "Nearly done, one male and one female, I'll need to get your exact mass after this by the way, for the calculations." She moved the controls and again the chair lifted with its two passengers. "Fantastic."

    It was a little awkward, Sheridan wasn't going to lie. While Ginelli apparently had no inkling how this might look to others, Sheridan did. The worst thing that could happen would be...

    "Hi Anna." Ginelli waved toward the doorway. "Oh, actually, got a minute to help?"

    "I'm not sure, it really depends what you need help with." Doctor Anna Keller, xenoarchaeologist with IPX and, at least for the moment, fiancé to one John Sheridan made every effort to look very serious and angry but largely failed. The whole thing was too outlandish to be upset about. "Hi John, having fun?"

    "Do I look like I'm having fun?" He rapidly turned a fetching shade of crimson. "I was ambushed."

    "For scientific discovery." Ginelli confirmed lowering the chair. "Your contribution will be noted in my paper. So far the myomer has proven to possess extreme tensile strength. I'll need your help Anna."

    "How?"

    Ginelli shifted to one side. "I'll sit on this knee, you take that one."

    "Now hang on..." Sheridan began to protest.

    "Done." Anna pranced over and delicately perched on one of Sheridan's knees, her face a barely contained explosion of amusement. She was absolutely relishing her fiance's discomfort. "Ready for liftoff."

    "Good, one male, two females, I'll calculate full mass later. Begin."

    Again the chair rose, Ginelli exhaling in wonder. "We need to find out how to make this stuff, it's going to have massive implications in the construction sectors."

    They remained suspended for a while, Anna fighting hard to suppress riotous laughter while Sheridan kept his eyes on her, Ginelli frantically typing some notes.

    "So." Sheridan finally decided to speak. "Is this an average day for you?"

    "Little different." Anna admitted. "But Doctor Ginelli is never boring to work next to."

    "Right." Sheridan tried to keep his balance, scientist on each knee. "I'm beginning to think I should have tried for a career in science."



    With the ad hoc experiment done, Sheridan was released to carry on with his day, specifically the shore leave he had booked to spend with his wife to be. Anna Keller was a very different type of scientist, her focus being more on the lost relics of the past and how they might impact the future. Back home this tended to mean alien artefacts, but those same skills were just as applicable to long lost human ruins. Cooperland had a few of those and IPX had been very interested in establishing a presence and seeing what could be found.

    "Thanks for helping." Ginelli packed away our things. "When the real lab gets installed I can do real stress tests, put the myomer samples under properly calculated strain. I just, you know, couldn't wait to try them out."

    "Of course we understand." Anna smiled widely at her new friend. "Sometimes science needs to get done."

    "Exactly!"

    "Dr Ginelli and I have offices next door to each other." Anna informed Sheridan to clear up any mystery. "She works as late as I do so we've bonded over late night snacks and coffee."

    "Great coffee." Ginelli closed her eyes. "She makes it perfectly."

    "I'm glad you settled in and found some company." Sheridan was in this case genuinely grateful, things were still tumultuous and this new friendship at least gave Anna some entertaining human contact while he was on deployment. "Are you ready to head into town? I heard they just put up a café."

    "Ready to try it, I'll find my coat."

    "Cargo." Ginelli suddenly spoke. "You said cargo."

    "I did." Sheridan cast his mind back. "I was heading out here to see Anna and no one could reach you on the COMMSNET, so I said I'd pass on the message. We delivered some mechs, two are yours."

    Her mouth dropped. "It took you this long to say that!"

    "Well you didn't exactly give me a chance to get a word in..."

    "I need them! Where?"

    "The spaceport."

    "I'm driving there right now!"

    Anna went to fetch her coat from her office, the two of them heading out of the glistening building and walking through the carpark towards the vehicle Sheridan had requisitioned. It was plain government sedan normally used by the civic centre, being an Earth Force Captain had its perks. As they walked toward it across the carpark, Sheridan spied Ginelli standing in the middle of the empty rows of parking spaces looking for her car.

    "We should help her." Anna squeezed Sheridan's arm. "She's lost."

    "If we take too long that café is going to be full, there'll be a lot of people in orbit heading down here soon."

    "John, come on, be nice." She gave him that look, that puppy dog look he had never been able to resist.

    "Fine."

    "I know you John, not a bad bone in your body." She leaned aside. "Angela! Over here!"

    "Anna, Hi! My car isn't here!"

    "Where did you see it last?"

    "Stanford, September Fourteenth." She winced. "Eight years ago."

    Sheridan frowned. "Then how were you going to drive to the spaceport?"

    "I didn't think that far ahead! I just wanted some mechs!"

    "We'll give you a ride, won't we, John?" Anna deployed The Look.

    "Yes, yes we will." He had no power here. "Hop in, we're going past the port anyway."

    Sheridan took the driving seat, Anna beside him and Ginelli in the back. He brought the engine online and rolled the vehicle forward, tapping the destination into the navigation.

    "They haven't got the auto drive system marked out yet so I guess we're going manual." He let the passengers know. "Been a while."

    "Just follow the exact directions, don't argue with the machine." Anna chided. "It knows where it's going."

    "Yeah, maybe. It did tell me that time to take a right at Wichita and we almost ended up in another State."

    "Because you turned it off afterwards." Anna reminded. "I know where ma dad's farm is, I don't need no machine tellin me." She dropped an exaggerated impression of him. "That's why we ended up in Oklahoma. Eight hours of driving."

    "Would have been fine if I'd just ignored it in the first place."

    "All I'll say is its a good thing your ship has its own navigation department."

    They pulled out into the main road, the traffic mostly construction vehicles hauling building supplies in long convoys into the city. The scenery was pleasant, the temperatures a little chilly but overall comfortable.

    "How's work?" Sheridan began a new topic. "IPX keeping you busy?"

    "Yeah, we're excavating one of the ruined cities. Slow going, we still need radiation suits when we travel over there, but we've found some useful technology."

    "Anything we can use?"

    "Maybe, some engines from civilian vehicles, a monorail station, one of your mechs too." Anna mentioned. "But a civilian one, construction machine we think."

    "But the same internal components?" Ginelli checked in.

    "We think so, it was heavily damaged but it might prove useful."

    The drove quietly for a while until Ginelli spoke up again.

    "So you two getting married or what?"

    Sheridan coughed in surprise at the question, Anna looking over to him.

    "Yes John, are we getting married or what?"

    "That is the plan, yes, I just wanted to make sure the war was over first." He glanced over. "And that we didn't have another one brewing."

    "There's always going to be some crisis somewhere, we have to act while we can." The red haired scientist had been practicing this conversation. "If we don't go ahead there'll always be some sort of excuse."

    "Maybe, yeah, maybe, But..."

    "No buts." She interrupted. "We need to get on with this, no more delaying."

    Sheridan had a lot to say about that, but none of it was going to do anything to convince her. "I am ready for this, but, well, you know I've been here before."

    "The Practice Wife doesn't count." Ann replied sharply. "This is our marriage, and it's a real, true marriage. You had a little practice, now it's the real deal. So, when?"

    He had to give an answer, not only was Anna's fierce stare burning into him Ginelli was also perched on the edge of her seat leaning forward, eyes wide. If popcorn had been present she would have been demolishing a bag.

    "Spring." He answered. "Next spring, that's only a few months, enough time to plan but not long to wait."

    "Okay." Anna appeared satisfied. "Wasn't so hard was it?"

    "We'll need invites, my dad needs time off, your family... and if I get called back to front line duty..."

    "We'll deal with all of that when the time comes. Let's just get married, it's the most normal thing in the world." Anna insisted gently. "We need a new honeymoon though, we can't go on a Centauri cruise anymore."

    "This was so good." Ginelli beamed. "It's like an afternoon movie."

    "You'll come right?" Anna twisted in her chair. "You have to come, we're friends, you'll make time right?"

    "You want me there?"

    "Of course!"

    "Oh." Ginelli went red. "I can find some time, I think." She smiled. "For a friend."

    "Perfect." Anna radiated a return smile. "Weddings are great places to meet people, I'm making it my mission to pair you up with someone. Got any friends that might work John?"

    "Errr... Hey, look at that, we're here."

    He pulled the car into the new spaceport, sliding smoothly over the concrete apron to where a couple of egg shaped dropships had been landed dwarfing the Earth Force shuttles and transports. Beside those two ships were the real prizes, six bipedal fighting machines standing deactivated, but still imposing. This was the first time Sheridan had seen them in person and they were suitably imposing. He didn't envy the army.

    He pulled up, Ginelli was out of the car before it had even finished rolling, the happy scientist fully absorbing the scene.

    "These things are brilliant! Do they work?"

    "The do." Sheridan closed the door behind him. "These six were among the ones that surrendered to us. Some went back to Earth, these ones will be assigned here."

    "They're all different." Anna joined them. "Are they unique to the pilot?"

    "There are production runs apparently, but there are so many varieties and models, most units have a mix." Sheridan answered. "At least according to our source, a Captain Kerensky. Hang on." He fished around in his pocket pulling out a piece of crumpled paper. "I wrote it down, she says the two big ones on the end are the best. A Marauder and a Warhammer."

    "Nice, really nice." Ginelli grinned. "What else?"

    "That one is a Blackjack, there's a Locust, and that one is called a Centurion." Sheridan read out. "All apparently solid designs."

    "And that last one?" Anna wrinkled her nose. "Is that supposed to be there?"

    "That is an Urbanmech. Captain Kerensky says it's the best balanced fighting machine ever made, but apparently she was trying not to giggle when she said that so..."

    "I'll take it." Ginelli decided. "It's cute, I want it, I think it'll be easier to put through its paces then the other designs."

    "Command says you can have first pick of any two. The rest are going up to the fort for evaluation."

    "The Warhammer as my second, lots of guns on it, plenty to mess around with." Ginelli decided. "Perfect, always wanted my own giant robot."

    "I'll tell the loadmaster." Sheridan offered. "But I don't think we've got them moving yet, the control system is pretty complex."

    "First reports says it needs direct input from a pilot's brain, very curious." Ginelli nodded. "Didn't say to what degree, or how exactly that works. Something to work on."

    "We captured the pilots for these machines too, they were supposed to be working on a manual for them, hopefully get them fully operational by the end of the week."

    "My staff will be all over them." The scientist smiled. "You can leave me here Captain, I'll be fine, I want to get a closer look at all six machines."

    "You sure?" Anna asked. "You can join us?"

    "No, it's fine, thanks."

    "Okay, we'll just go find that café, see what they have." John suggested. "Maybe just grab a coffee and..."

    "Coffee?" A voice suddenly perked up. "Maybe the mechs can wait a little bit longer."



    Tortuga.

    The thunder of impacts caused the crockery to rattle slightly, spilling some of the tea from the cup. It was an irritant but nobody complained, a hot breakfast was far too special to be upset by things beyond their control.

    General Fraser took a refill, the orderly leaning over the fold-out table to bring the tea cup back to full capacity. He offered the same for Jaime Wolf and Natasha Kerensky, both declined. They did not, however, decline a second portion of bacon and eggs.

    "Never go to war without a good field kitchen." Fraser offered some helpful advice. "Best thing for morale, hot food and a full belly."

    "Hard to argue with that." Wolf conceded. "This tastes very good, is it fresh?"

    "Flash frozen then thawed, not perfect but better than ration packs." Fraser shrugged. "Do your people have anything like that?"

    "We could probably find something, but your ration packs taste very similar." Wolf answered. "All the calories in a fraction of the time."

    "Unless you get the chicken surprise." Natasha chipped in. "The surprise is how long you spend in the latrine the next day."

    Fraser barked a laugh. "Yeah, that sounds right!"

    A pair of gunships roared overhead angling for the city, tracer fire still rising into the sky from some locations. The shadowy figures of mechs stalked the horizon, sometimes spitting out beams of light at distant targets. The mission commanders were a little further back, their temporary HQ serving as an adequate spot for some open air breakfast.

    "We should be done within four days." Wolf shared with the General. "The enemy mechs are down, so are their vehicle reserves."

    "I heard you caught some yesterday."

    "Yes, a convoy coming up from the south, light vehicles." Wolf spoke between bites of bacon. "We successfully redirected them."

    "Redirected them where?"

    "Four hundred meters straight up, then scattered across most of the hemisphere."

    Fraser chuckled again. "Didn't have you pegged for a man with some humor Colonel."

    "It varies, I tend to be a little more open when in my natural environment."

    "Hm." The General nodded along. "You feel you belong in a fight?"

    "I'm a warrior." Wolf gave the only answer he needed to.

    "And that's all?"

    "It's enough." Wolf considered the General. "I am what I am General. Some of us are born to this, strive to become mechwarriors. To pilot one of these machines is the greatest achievement of a lifetime for many."

    "Is it for you?"

    "It was. Now my greatest glory is leading others, standing at the front of the finest warriors the Great Houses have seen in centuries."

    "Warriors like Captain Kerensky?"

    "Captain Kerensky stands apart." Wolf offered his companion due respect. "I am her commanding officer, but among an army of great warriors she stands as the greatest."

    Natasha slurped her tea and tilted a shoulder in acknowledgement. "Yep."

    "I can see you have your own thoughts, General." Wolf observed. "I can tell you are a career officer, correct?"

    "Aye, it's true."

    "You are no political appointment either. You didn't get this command because you have a rich brother, or your father is a top politician. You earned this command, but you don't call yourself a warrior?"

    "I'm a soldier, Colonel, and there is a difference. This is my duty, I can do it better than a lot of other men, so I have to be here. I have to make sure it's done right."

    "There is honor in duty." Wolf agreed. "And that's all?"

    "These days? Yes." Fraser nodded. "Maybe once I imagined glory, earning fame, looking dashing in a uniform to attract the fair lassies." He smiled slightly. "Then I went to war, real war, now I know differently."

    "Who did you fight?" Natasha asked bluntly.

    "You wouldn't know them." Fraser parried. "All I'll say is I graduated fourth in my class of a hundred officers. Right now there are only two of us left, the rest are dead and gone. I know one academy, it lost every officer who graduated for the last fifteen years. Thousands of officers, no survivors. War is no game Colonel, it isn't the greatest achievement of a life. It's pure bloody murder."

    "But you fight on?"

    "Somebody has to, and better it's their boys and girls getting murdered than ours."

    "I understand your secrecy Colonel and respect it." Wolf allowed. "But you surely understand that sooner or later you may face another war. Let's be honest, you have no idea what the galaxy is like, do you?"

    "Quite a bold statement Colonel."

    "It's not an accusation of weakness, my world was also somewhat isolated, so when I started as a warrior, I also had to learn how the Inner Sphere worked." Wolf was careful in how much he shared. "I think, General, that your world has been isolated for so long, you have diverged considerably from the main mass of humanity. Perhaps you were a very early colony, long isolated from before the age of war, perhaps you are from the first waves that left Terra, it doesn't matter to us."

    "That's very nice of you."

    "I would like to make an offer, one I strongly suggest you accept." Wolf locked eyes with Fraser. "I'd like to introduce you, or one of your leaders, to Ian Davion."

    Fraser took another long sip of tea.

    "Ian Davion being Prince of the Federal Suns?"

    "The Federated Suns, yes." Wolf nodded. "My current employer. Frankly, General, you need to establish some sort of diplomatic contact, and it's better you do it now. If you wait, you may end up making contact with someone far worse."

    "You'd say this man Davion is a good option then?"

    "He's an honest enough man, he isn't as tyrannical as some, or as corrupt as others." Wolf mused on his thoughts. "Of the great powers, he is the obvious choice, and he is your nearest neighbor now. I would strongly recommend at least opening a diplomatic channel."

    "And if we choose not to?"

    "Then you choose not to, that is all." Wolf shrugged. "But I must mention that these pirate worlds are being claimed by your nation. I think the First Prince will actually be open to the idea, from what I have seen your people are honorable, but you will need to assure him you are no danger to his border. Pirates are a plague, but a well armed and organized army of unknown intent forming on your borders? That is something else."

    "As you might guess, a decision like that is above my pay grade."

    "Of course General, but my offer stands to whoever in your government wants it. I'll make the introduction, make sure there aren't any surprises or tensions, just a peaceful diplomatic opening."

    "And what do you gain from this?"

    "I serve my paymaster, Prince Davion. I am a mercenary, but also a warrior, and it is for the best that we avoid any further conflict out here. Honestly, I'd rather not have to fight your people, General, you're far too interesting."

    "I'm flattered."

    "Please send my offer to your leaders, General. This is, I think, the best way forward."
     
    Chapter 12
  • 12

    Tortuga

    "Quick and by the numbers." Garibaldi tapped the point man on the shoulder. "Go! Sweep and clear!"

    The fire team did what they were trained to do, breaking into the ruined building and fanning out, IR scopes on their rifles looking for any signs of life in the multitude of wrecked rooms the infantry had been systematically cleaning for the last few days. Urban combat was grueling and unrelenting, the same routines, the unpredictability, the knowledge that even one error or slip up could cost lives.

    It was starting to grate. Garibaldi's platoon had taken two casualties to an ambush, which had hammered home the importance of being thorough during room clearing. They were long since out of grenades, but fortunately by this point, the enemy had broken and was running. They hadn't seen anything beside prisoners for two days now and their task was almost done.

    "Building clear." Garibaldi confirmed personally, following his men through the burned out structure and finding nothing untoward. "That's it for this complex, no contacts."

    "Understood Sergeant, secure your position and hold for a while." Lieutenant Meitner released the unit. "I'll check with the Major and see what happens next."

    With the brief respite, the platoon settled in for some quick food, each of them well aware it could be hours or even days before they had another chance to just stop and eat a moderately decent meal. Re-heat ration packs weren't exactly find dining, but they beat dry meal bars any day of the week. Garibaldi ate his own beside one of the shattered windows, blowing on the steaming food to cool it at least a little before risking a mouthful. Outside, he had a great view of a mech squad crunching their way through an abandoned factory looking left and right for any danger. They didn't find any of course, resistance had melted away pretty fast and once the hardened death or freedom types had died in the first days the rest had shattered.

    "Sergeant Garibaldi, your Colonel said I could find you here."

    He recognized the voice but it took a moment to place it, the front line grunt definitely not expecting to see such a senior officer so close to the action.

    "General Fraser?" He almost lost his fork into the steamy depths of the ration pack.

    "Keep eating Sergeant, I don't want to interrupt."

    "All due respect sirm but hard to play it normal when a General shows up." Garibaldi peered outwards. "Could still be snipers out therem sir."

    "I think they've got better things to shoot at." Fraser dismissed. "I was talking to your Colonel, this battalion is pulling back in an hour or two. We have fresh forces from Earth to handle the mopping up."

    "Good to hear." Garibaldi spoke honestly. "I think we could all do with some rest." He remembered his guest. "Sir."

    "You aren't wrong, intense business fighting through all these buildings." Fraser understood. "Take many losses?"

    "Only two."

    "Could be worse." Fraser let Garibaldi eat a little, peering out from the same window. "Had much chance to see our allies in action?"

    "From a distance."

    "And?"

    Garibaldi chugged the last of the pack straight down, relishing the heat as he gathered his thoughts.

    "I think they're a hell of a unit, as far as shock troops go, you won't find better. Perfect for a blitz, they hit hard, they hit fast, they can alter direction and mission whenever they like. Good for this type of work."

    "Think they're better than us?"

    "No sir." Garibaldi shook his head. "Permission to speak freely?"

    "I demand it."

    "They're too focused on the attack, they commit a hundred percent, which is great if you've got someone backing you up. These guys don't, they go all in and rely on their enemy breaking, which mostly they do."

    "You think if they ran into a setback they'd be in trouble?"

    "They look to me to be very flexible, they shift formations fast, they respond to danger aggressively, but I think they're too focused on attack. Sometimes you have to give ground to secure a better fighting position. You have to play your enemy, trick them into doing what you want them to do. I don't think these guys have figured that out."

    "Perhaps that's their doctrine, always be on the attack, take the fight to the enemy, seize his ground and maintain the pressure." Fraser considered. "Their weapons and vehicles are definitely well suited. These mechs are excellent in attack, but I suspect weaker on defense."

    "Hard to go hull down and ambush when you are as big as an apartment block." Garibaldi agreed. "And they are damn big targets when they stand still."

    "Earth Force is putting together a new unit, Sergeant, they've asked me to command it." Fraser moved to his main topic. "We've acquired a few mechs and look to find more. Command wants to play around with them, see what they can do, develop some tactics for them and use them as opponents in training scenarios."

    "Makes sense sir, we might end up fighting more of them."

    "No." Fraser stated with complete certainty. "We will absolutely be fighting more of them. So to that end, I'm picking up pilots for this team, and your name showed up."

    "Mine?" Garibaldi gave the General a confused glance. "Why the hell would my name show up?"

    "You killed one of these things."

    "So did a few other people."

    "And they're in the team too, I already have a gunship pilot and tank commander." Fraser informed. "I'm getting a fighter pilot, but I need four and I want you in there."

    "I'm not a pilot, I mean I always wanted to learn to fly a Fury, but I'm just a gropo."

    "Which is perfect." Fraser grinned, keen to share his plan. "The rest of the team, they're used to moving metal. The gunship pilot is already talking my ear off about pop up attacks and knap of the Earth, the Tanker is going on about optimal gunnery ranges when firing from elevated positions, and I can bet the Fury pilot will be all about aggression and formations. But none of them would tell me what you just told me. They move metal, Sergeant, you move people."

    Garibaldi looked back out of the window, watching the distant mechs of Wolf's Dragoons. They were certainly impressive, the idea of piloting a machine like that did catch his imagination ever so slightly.

    "Maybe the pilots are right, but personally I think the best way to deploy machines like that isn't as walking tanks or gunships, but as very tall, very well armed infantry." Fraser related. "And for that, I could really use someone who understands small unit infantry tactics, and is smart enough to apply them to those things."

    "You think I'm your man?" Garibaldi had real doubts. The Minbari War was one thing, he had joined up because that was all he could do, but things had changed. "I was planning on retiring once my tour was up, my dad was the career soldier, I'm not really good with authority. No disrespect, General."

    "This unit will be a special detachment, we'll be a little looser with regulations, permit more free thinking." Fraser upped the pitch. "I want people who don't quite fit in and who are ready to speak up, say their piece. Right now, we're evaluating a potential enemy force, but one day, maybe, if Earth decides it wants its own mech force, then we'll be the pathfinders for an entirely new branch of service."

    "Honestly, I'm still not sure General."

    "Better pay, better hours, and a nice new dorm at our new base on Cooperland." Fraser tempted. "If you don't like it, request a transfer. There's a million others out there who'd replace you in an instant. But they wouldn't be as good."

    "Can I think it over, General?"

    "Course you can." Fraser nodded and picked himself up. "Take until we reach New Haiti, then decide where you want to go. Stick with us and create an entirely new doctrine, or head back to civilian life and regret it every time you see one of those giant robots kicking arse."

    "You don't play fair, General." Garibaldi laughed briefly.

    "I play to win. Take your time and let me know if that suits you too, Sergeant."

    "I will sir." Garibaldi's mind was already imagining the future, he had plans, he knew what he wanted, but now all of a sudden that was starting to change. Maybe Michael Garibaldi, Mech Pilot, did have a bit of a ring to it.



    Geneva, Switzerland
    Capital, Earth Alliance.


    "This is the moment we knew we'd have to face." David Sheridan didn't flinch from taking the issue head on. "As soon as we made a move on the Pirate Kingdom, we began to reshape the geopolitical landscape. That was going to be noticed, and while we've probably made things better out here, that might not mean much if we are tagged as a potential enemy."

    "We can still control the timetable to a degree." General Denisov considered. "We can refuse to open diplomacy with our neighbors, but doing so may be considered suspicious and these nations react proactively to suspicions."

    "These mercenaries don't seem like they can be bribed to stay quiet, which is a little odd for people who kill for money." Director Chapel shrugged slightly at the contradiction. "And I don't think arranging an accident will help, someone will come looking for them."

    "So either we make contact now, or we are forced into contact with a potentially more hostile neighbor later." Levy exhaled. "A neighbor far larger than us with an aggressive foreign policy, massive armies, and largely unknown capabilities."

    "I'm working on getting a team out there, Madam President, but the distances are slowing down a lot of our operations." Chapel spoke. "Not to mention we have to effectively start all our spy networks from scratch. A lot of our best people were still out in the League, or among the Narn and Centauri."

    "Or organizing resistance on Minbari occupied worlds." Denisov added. "We have a solid core of agents, but it'll be a while longer before replacements finish training."

    "Until then we will be at a disadvantage when it comes to information."

    "Do we have anything new about the Federated Suns?" President Levy steered them to the next topic. "Can we get a clearer picture of who they are?"

    "Many of the people we liberated on New Haiti were slaves taken from border worlds owned by Prince Davion." Chapel checked his notes. "They were happy to talk to us about their old home."

    "Any of them want to go back?" David Sheridan wondered.

    "Some, others I think are going to wait and see. They seemed pretty happy with the food aid we brought in." Chapel pulled up his briefings. "We have some refugee shelters up for areas that took damage in the attack, or that were just plain neglected. Lot of malnourished people and a lot of minor injuries. The slave class, as you might expect, wasn't treated great."

    "Did we round up most of the pirates?" Levy checked.

    "We think so." Denisov confirmed. "Not easy to hide out in the population when you have no friends."

    "We didn't even have to offer a reward, the pirates that fled were handed in to our patrols by the locals. The lucky ones anyway." Chapel shrugged. "The less lucky ones found that a population violently oppressed for their whole lives is going to want a reckoning."

    "The situation is broadly under control, our soldiers are being welcomed as liberators, and the food we're bringing with us is proof of our intentions." Denisov informed. "We're seeing something similar on Tortuga."

    "We estimate the remaining planets will collapse with barely a shot fired." Chapel predicted. "The pirates have lost their backbone, their senior leadership, and the bulk of their effective combat forces. We'll jump a ship in, give them a chance to surrender, and then go from there."

    "How long until we can link them all to the beacon network?"

    "Three more months for Tortuga, with both Explorers working the remaining planets can be linked by the end of the year." Denisov reasoned. "We do have plans to recommission some of our older scout ships, as you recall they were pressed into military service during the war, but the Explorer division has asked for them back."

    "Can you spare them, General?"

    "They are vital to our electronic warfare operations, but in the absence of a peer enemy, I think we can spare them. Six Oracle class scouts, if deployed, they should help our network grow much faster."

    "Alright, General." The President approved. "So back to the Federated Suns, Mr. Sheridan?"

    "They are a feudal society with massive inequality, a warlike nature, and a history of using force to seize what they like. Just like every other government we have data on." Sheridan sighed. "They aren't a perfect option, but they could be worse. They don't have slavery and have at least a basic set of laws and rights. How much those rights are just lipservice, I can't say, most of the former citizens we freed had few complaints about the laws, mostly it was how they felt ignored or abandoned by the prosperous core planets."

    "Does this Prince Davion have a good grip on his planets?"

    "They seem stable, some internal disputes but no outright renegade factions. I'd say that our experience with the Centauri will be extremely useful here."

    "Are you ready to take the lead on this one, David?" Levy's voice was heavy, fully aware of what she was asking.

    "I see no choice, let me put together a team and I'll get ready."

    "Thanks David, I need my best."

    "Well you'll just have to make do with me." David chortled, that easy sense of humor serving well to mask the razor sharp mind hiding behind it. "I have one request though, I need a telepath."

    "That could be complicated." Chapel stepped in. "There are no telepaths here, if we send one in it could completely derail any attempts at building trust."

    "Can we simply not introduce whoever it is as a telepath?" Denisov asked.

    "If they find out later it could be seen as a massive betrayal of trust." Chapel warned. "I can agree a telepath is standard in these scenarios, but this is a very different culture."

    "Any telepath who goes in will have to abide by the laws on telepathic scans of course." Sheridan spoke. "But if these guys are going to use this as an excuse to see if we are worth conquering, we should know."

    "If we send one as your aide, introduce them as just an aide and leave out the whole mind reading thing? We might get away with it." Chapel nodded. "Throw a coat on over that Psi Corps badge."

    "I'd say it's essential, Madam President." Sheridan insisted.

    "I don't like it much." Chapel gritted his teeth for a moment. "I don't trust the Corps, and it's a risk, but hard to argue with the advantages. Plus I'll be a hypocrite and ask for one of my people to go too, pretending to be an aide."

    "Approved." Levy nodded. "What else?"

    "Getting there, Madam President." Denisov took this one. "We have no beacon network even close to getting us to the Fed Suns homeworld, and our selection of jumpships is limited to seven craft we took from Pirates. None of these are ideal."

    "What's the solution?" Levy asked. "Hitch a ride with the mercenaries?"

    "No Ma'am, while our hybrid jump drives are still months away, we have built a few clones of the local jump drives, standard KF propulsion with Germanium cores." Denisov stated. "They are basically identical to any other locally made drive, with the exception of not needing a solar sail. We're going to deploy them to some of the smaller patrol ships to begin surveying star systems around us, but I think we can also hook one up to Earth Force One."

    "Can we send an escort?" Chapel raised.

    "No, there's a weight limit these drives can shunt. Fine for most medium civilian ships, but it won't handle even a small warship." Denisov shook his head. "No good for bulk freighters and ore barges either."

    "So it has to go alone?" Levy didn't like the sound of that.

    "Just the docked Furies." Denisov nodded, referring to the presidential escort wing. "If we wait a year, we can send an Omega with the new drive system, but if we want to go right now, this is where we are."

    "Any delay would be suspicious." Sheridan cautioned. "We should go, trust the honour of our hosts."

    "They model themselves on a medieval ideal, so chivalry might not be dead." Chapel allowed. "But they are also an absolute monarchy, even if there are some trappings of democracy, they can overrule them if they wanted to."

    "Are the risks worth it?" The President asked finally. "Do we stand to lose more than we gain?"

    "Very difficult to answer." Denisov tried to give the President some sort of measured response. "According to all the information we have, there are no warships, no means of major power projection, or large scale strategic warfare. But this is unverified public information, any one of these powers could have weapons we can't predict hidden away."

    "Can you defend Earth if this goes badly?"

    "Earth Force will hold the line, we have plenty of ships and a full defense grid. We also have the new generation Aegis satellites coming online, I'm confident we can stop a massed attack."

    "But we are still limited to our home system and a couple of colonies, we can't hit back." Chapel noted. "The question is whether they can mass enough force to smash us before we hit them."

    "Which is why the diplomatic option is necessary." Sheridan stated his own position. "It' s not just about learning the intentions of this one power, we can also use this to gain high grade information on the other powers. If we can bring Prince Davion onto our side, he'd also act as a shield against the other more hostile powers."

    "You want to use his nation as a shield?" Chapel raised an eyebrow. "You should be doing my job."

    "The bottom line, Madam President, is that we're not going back any time soon, maybe never, so we need to start strengthening our position, learning about our potential enemies and allies, seeking opportunities for trade and partnerships." Sheridan laid out. "If there's going to be a fight, better we learn now. If not, let's get an early start on trade and exploit the goodwill we have for taking out those pirates. Whatever your thoughts, now is the time to act."

    "And you're ready to do this? You'll be weeks from home, far beyond any help we could send."

    "It's what I signed up for." David gave that same humble shrug he always used to disarm opponents. "I'll go get the measure of this Prince, see if we can make a deal with him."

    "I hope so, I really do." Elizabeth Levy covered her face with her hands. "We didn't dodge one extermination just to walk into a second."
     
    Chapter 13
  • New Avalon Star System
    Capital World of the Federated Suns


    "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair."

    David Sheridan spent the final hours of the journey reading, not reports or briefings but a novel, the Tale of Two Cities by Dickens. He hadn't chosen it for any deep meaning, it was simply the next on his list of books he wanted to read to broaden his horizons. He found reading calmed him, centered his mind and engaged his more critical and creative thought processes. This was different to other negotiations. This wasn't an alien culture, these were fellow human beings, but their world was so different, so separate from what made Earth what it was, it was going to be unique.

    The rest of his group were handling their own preparations in their own way, shuffling papers, trying to relax, or grabbing some last minute food. The planet of New Avalon was looming large ahead of them now, an attractive world showing few signs of pollution, ruled by blue seas and green landmasses. An ideal colony for human life; whoever had found this planet was blessed.

    Sheridan paused his reading as the internal comms system whistled to life, the moment he'd been anticipating arrived with a shiver.

    "Attention landing mission, shuttle departure will be in twenty minutes. Please report to the hangar bay with all documents and items. Shuttle departure in twenty minutes."

    He closed the book and embraced the chill, the shiver down his spine, as he accepted the weight of his responsibility. Most of the people rescued from Tortuga had spoken positively of this nation, that the Davions were honorable and just rulers. If they were, this might go well, but if in truth they were as tyrannical as many monarchs had been in the past, it would need a very different approach.

    In either case, delay was now impossible, the die was cast and David Sheridan found himself shouldering the hopes of a whole planet. He wondered if his son had felt this way watching the Black Star angle towards his crippled warship, or during the abortive peace talks with a faction of the Minbari leadership. So much could hand on a single word, a single gesture by a single person. Six hours from now they might be at war, or they might finally have a friend worthy of the name. Heaven knew they had none back in their home galaxy.

    He set the book down, resting his hand on it for a few seconds, considering that famous opening paragraph and its contradictions. It was up to him and those he would meet to decide if it would be the best of times or the worst of times, and he had no idea if he was going to be able to deliver the result Earth needed. But he was damn well going to try, and he was going to use every hour of experience he had gathered to make this meeting his masterpiece.



    The shuttle bounced up and down as it decelerated, the pilots trying to ease the passage from orbit, but as good as they were, they couldn't perform miracles. David was pleased at his choice to skip dinner, especially when he caught a glimpse of several fellow passengers looking rather nauseous in their finery. Nobody had brought their lunch back up for a second viewing and hopefully it remained that way. Nothing ruined a first impression in quite the same way.

    "Avalon City control, this is diplomatic transport EF dash three requesting final approach clearance." He overheard the pilots a few feet ahead of him, the windows on the flight deck displaying clear blue sky and wispy clouds.

    "Diplomatic transport, you are cleared for runway one. Approach at your discretion and welcome to New Avalon."

    "Copy that control, on the way down now." The pilot adjusted course and tapped internal comms. "We're on final approach, about four more minutes. Good luck down there."

    David took the good wishes for what they were, the outcome of this meeting vital enough that even the air crew were anxious about it. Just beyond the windows, David could see the glimmering shapes of a pair of sleek fighters, an escort to see them to the city. Presumably an act of formality and respect, but also caution, just in case they were not who they said they were.

    Colonel Wolf had been true to his word and had organized the meeting, arranging the time and place while leaving introductions to the Davion government itself. Neither side likely knew exactly what they were getting into, but there was an undercurrent of optimism. It was something new, unexpected for either party, and that seemed to have kindled genuine curiosity.

    The pilots touched down gently, the smooth triangular shuttle gleaming in white and blue diplomatic colors. The spaceport had been largely emptied of regular traffic in this quadrant, the landing squares now busy with vehicles and troopers arranging themselves into parade positions as the shuttle shut down its engines with a soft whine and dropped its ramp.

    "Try not to trip." David straightened his tie, took a huge breath, and then walked down the ramp and out into amazing bright sunshine.

    The weather was exquisite and picked out all the details of the city beyond, clean and pleasant with the faint aroma of oils from the shuttle mixing with flowers and greenery wafting in from the environment. In the distance stood a mountain range, snow capped and immovable, with the city itself seated around the lower ranges and foothills extending into the alpine plains. It was genuinely beautiful and like nothing he had seen outside of Earth.

    Ahead, a party moved forward to greet them, ranks of infantry stood to left and right at attention, gleaming rifles catching the sun, while dress uniforms sparked with medals. Behind them were the battlemechs, a full battalion in rich gleaming blue standing straight in their own neat ranks, lending the presence to the spectacle. Flags and banners flew, crowds had gathered a safe distance away and what seemed to be news crews were capturing the moment.

    Definitely not a relaxed informal meeting then.

    The welcoming party made their way closer, their leader a young man with a ready smile, which was certainly encouraging. David took a step forward to meet him, hoping his suit was good enough for these auspicious surroundings.

    "Representatives of the Earth Alliance, welcome." The young man greeted them with what seemed to be sincere warmth. "I am Prince Hanse Davion, younger brother to the First Prince Ian. On his behalf, and on behalf of all subjects and citizens of the Federated Suns, I bid you welcome to our home."

    He extended his hand, which of course David took.

    "On behalf of the President and people of the Earth Alliance, I humbly and gratefully accept your warm welcome. I am David Sheridan, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs and head of the Diplomatic Service."

    They maintained the handshake for a few more moments so the news cameras could capture the moment, then released each other, Hanse stepping aside and falling into step beside David.

    "If you'll walk with me Secretary Sheridan, we have some cars to take us straight to the castle, my brother is very eager to meet you."

    The small delegation walked down a red carpet between the serried ranks, at one point a squadron of silver fighters roaring over at low level trailing colored smoke. They were laying it on thick, pulling out all the ceremony worthy of a full state visit and clearly aimed to impress and awe the EA diplomats. It was definitely an impressive display and told Sheridan they were taking it seriously. That was a good sign.

    "What do you think of our battlemechs, Mr. Sheridan?" Hanse followed his guest's gaze. "This is the unit I serve with, the Third Guards, you won't find finer Mechwarriors anywhere in the galaxy."

    "They make a fine impression, Highness." David could say that with certainty, the sheer level of weaponry on the assorted vehicles demanding respect. "Do they see much combat?"

    "Frequently, I'm afraid we live in turbulent times, Mr. Sheridan."

    The party arrived at the motorcade of vehicles, Hanse and Sheridan taking the lead vehicle with the various aides and assistants picking one of the following vehicles. The limo was appropriately luxurious and virtually silent as it began to move. David also noted the thickness of the windows and heaviness of the doors indicating these vehicles could probably survive a tank hit.

    "I hope you didn't mind the spectacle Mr. Sheridan." Hanse seemed to relax somewhat outside the media glare. "Events like these are important, our people need to see their leaders at work, to observe that we are working for them, instead of simply ruling over them."

    "Do you usually roll out the red carpet like that for diplomatic events?" David asked.

    "Sometimes, but not much lately." Hanse answered honestly. "Your case is a special one, Colonel Wolf's report made for interesting reading."

    "I sense we'll have a long chat when we arrive at the castle." David steeled himself for it. "Is it an actual castle, by the way?"

    "Oh yes, just like you see in books." Hanse broke a grin. "The founders of this world had a very specific vision, one my early ancestors were happy to indulge. We'll pass through the old city soon, see what you think."

    It definitely followed a theme, the relatively modern looking buildings slowly changing to appear far more medieval, or more specifically an interpretation of medieval. To Sheridan's eyes, it looked a lot like the fairy tale district on Disney Planet.

    "This is still quite a desirable place to live, but it definitely has a quaint character." Hanse related. "The rest of the city isn't so themed, I suspect it was designed to reflect old European cities. A connection with home."

    The line of cars snaked through the streets, everything immaculately clean and much of the route lined with waving and cheering people. Sheridan watched them closely trying to figure out if the crowds were genuine or hired to make the leadership look popular. It was difficult to say for sure, but they did seem pretty genuine.

    They passed through the government district and took to a winding mountain road which eventually led to the Royal Palace itself sitting upon the rocks of Mount Davion. It wasn't quite so fairy tale looking as some old European castles, but it definitely looked out of place and artificial. It was a strange contradiction, all of this faux medieval architecture was fake, an attempt to claim something which never existed, to embrace an ideal which was as made up as the quaint town houses. And yet it was all so sincere, they really had claimed this style for their own and proudly showed it off. It might have been built as a substitute for some missing original identity, or as a whim of whoever first landed here, but now it had become real. They weren't kings who had made castles, they had made the castles first and then became kings to do those buildings justice.

    The motorcade pulled up ahead of the main entrance to the grand castle, more ranks of exquisitely turned out guardsmen assembled on either side of the tall wooden doors. Attendants opened the doors for the passengers so they wouldn't need to actually do anything for themselves, and then walked ahead of the party as guides into the great hall itself. Hanse and Sheridan were again at the lead walking side by side, the Earth diplomat smart in his best suit, but still looking rather plain beside the regalia of the young Prince.

    The Great Hall was of course living up to its name, glittering chandeliers hung from above, while the walls were decked out with red banners carrying the sword and sunburst iconography of the nation. Hundreds of people were in the hall clustered left and right, leaving a path straight down the middle toward the far end of the hall, which was dominated by tall windows commanding breathtaking views. Before those windows, basking in the sunlight, was the throne of the First Prince.

    Sheridan was no stranger to this world, he had learned much of his trade walking the Royal Court of the Centauri Republic, even meeting the Emperor once in the years soon after the rise of the Narn. To prepare for that, he had visited the last vestiges of royalty on Earth, the courts of Europe and East Asia that still had some figurehead monarchs and maintained the ancient traditions and etiquette. He gambled not much would be different here, follow the etiquette and let the royals take the lead.

    Hanse and Sheridan halted several paces before the throne, the very well dressed man seated within it still looking rather young to Sheridan's eyes, but certainly had a resemblance to the young Prince at his side, albeit a rather broad and imposing presence.

    "Your Majesty." Hanse stepped forward and raised his voice. "Might I introduce to the Court David Sheridan, Secretary of Foreign Affairs to the Earth Alliance and Head of their Diplomatic Service."

    Both bowed upon the introduction, the man on the throne nodding and raising his hand.

    "Hail and well met, Mr Sheridan. Please, arise."

    He did so, the young ruler standing and raising a hand.

    "On the behalf of the Federated Suns I, First Prince Ian Davion, bid you and your companions a warm welcome. I offer you the hospitality of my house in friendship."

    He stepped down from the throne and walked toward Sheridan, by pre-arranged cue a waiter trotted over with two crystal glasses of pale pink liquid. Ian came to a halt in front of Sheridan and took one glass, David taking the second.

    "To your good health and fortune Mr. Sheridan."

    "And to yours First Prince."

    Both drained their glasses, the alcohol within ridiculously expensive tasting, then replaced their glasses.

    "And that's the formalities done, come on Mr. Sheridan, let's go try the vol au vents."

    With a nod from Hanse a string orchestra began to play some gentle music, letting the room know the ceremony was complete and the networking could begin. Ian led Sheridan and his group up closer to the throne and had them gather around.

    "I think introductions are in order, you've met my brother of course." Ian began pointing to his small gathering circle. "Do you know Colonel Wolf?"

    "Only by reputation." Sheridan nodded to the mercenary commander, who returned the gesture. "But the President wanted to thank you again for lining all this up."

    "All part of the service." Jaime Wolf waved the compliment away.

    "And The Duchess Yvonne." He gestured over a stony faced woman who gave the arrivals a curt assessing look before extending her hand.

    "Charmed." David took her hand as was custom. "If I may your Majesty?" He gestured to his staff.

    "Of course."

    "My two aides, Mr. Nigel Morrison and Miss Glenda Mayweather."

    His two well dressed middle aged associates bowed. He didn't clarify that Morrison was a telepath tied to the diplomatic office and Mayweather was an analyst with the EIA.

    "Welcome to you both." Ian tilted a glass in their direction. "Well then, lets get to it, I hear you have warships?"

    Sheridan noted Hanse recoiling ever so slightly at the bluntness of the question. He was beginning to build a picture of these people, the analytical Yvonne, the carefully observant Hanse, and the forward First Prince himself. He got the impression Hanse wanted to be far more subtle with the questioning, as did the others no doubt, but Ian didn't appear to have much in the way of patience.

    "That is true Majesty, though we are very conservative in their use."

    "I expect so." Ian nodded a little. "Anyone possessing that sort of power would guard it jealously. Have you had cause to use it?"

    "We have used them to break the pirates of Tortuga." Sheridan answered honestly. "As I am sure Colonel Wolf has reported."

    "He did, I just wanted to make sure we were all on the same page." Ian sipped from his expensive glass. "As best we know you own the only warships left. At least the only ones we know."

    "I am a little surprised Majesty, my government had no idea they were so rare."

    "Well they are, and you owning a few makes you a very interesting prospect. Very interesting indeed." Ian weighed him up. "Your worlds are out in the deep periphery then?"

    "Yes Majesty."

    "And you've been out there since before the age of war?" He frowned. "Hell of a long time."

    "My last contact with Earth was the year 2248." Sheridan said completely truthfully.

    "Hell of a long time ago. How far out are you?"

    "We've recently settled a place called Cooperland, it's about six hundred light-years from our core colonies." Again true, it was about six hundred light-years from Proxima, Beta Durani and the other core Alliance worlds. And also an entire reality.

    "Fascinating." Ian shook his head. "So you missed all of it? The Age of War, the Star League, all the Succession Wars?"

    "Yes Majesty, all of it."

    "Incredible."

    "Which also means you seem to have missed the evolution of the Battlemech, and the Ares Accords." Jaime Wolf remarked. "That is true, isn't it?"

    "It is." There was no point denying it, Wolf had picked up enough to guess that Earth Force was a novice when it came to mech warfare. "Our armies have always been satisfied with their existing doctrines."

    "They were professional." Wolf agreed. "Well trained, disciplined and courageous. Good soldiers."

    "That's high praise from Colonel Wolf." Ian noted with approval. "So you've taken Tortuga? Broken those pirates at last?"

    "We're working on it Majesty, two planets down and four to go."

    "Your intention is to keep them?"

    "We have a responsibility to do so, if we left there's a good chance it would slip back into anarchy and banditry again." Sheridan reasoned. "We can't let that happen."

    "A noble enough ideal." Ian agreed. "And because we are now neighbors you thought it best to make contact and make sure everything is smooth between us?"

    "That would be correct Majesty."

    "Then I think we can come to an accord." Ian laughed a little. "No need to be so staid, Mr. Sheridan, I have no real interest in the periphery. My concern is the ancestral enemies of my house and reclaiming our rightful worlds held by those old rivals. I'm content to recognize your ownership of Tortuga provided you respect my borders in turn."

    "That will be an easy deal to make, Majesty."

    "One question though," Ian addressed. "Why the Earth Alliance? You're a long way from Terra."

    "Yes, but it's never far from our hearts, and we honor it by keeping the name."

    "A fair answer, I suppose it is a light that burns within us all." Ian seemed satisfied by that.

    "Your army had recent combat experience." Wolf raised again. "Who were you fighting out beyond the periphery?"

    "Not an enemy anyone here would know." Sheridan answered carefully.

    "So your General said too, but I'd like to know." Wolf pressed. "And I'd like to know if there's a danger to us. Whoever it was had their own warships, correct?"

    "Correct." Sheridan stepped carefully. "They are gone now, there's no trace of them left and we've had no contact for almost a year. But if you are wondering if this war is what prompted us to start becoming involved in local affairs, I suppose it did."

    "If they are gone, then why not share more about them?" Hanse wondered.

    "In time and with growing trust we will." Sheridan promised. "But I can promise there's no threat anymore. It cost us a heavy price, but that war is over."

    "It's a tale I'd like to hear." Hanse regarded the diplomat. "But I can wait."

    One of the uniformed officers mingling through the crowd walked up to Ian and whispered something in his ear, the First Prince nodding.

    "If you'll excuse me for a moment I have something to attend to, the trials of state." He rolled his eyes. "I shan't be long."

    The First Prince vanished into the crowd, Hanse stepping in closer to David Sheridan.

    "I should apologies for, well, for all of this." The young man sighed. "If it was up to me, I would have handled this quietly, no grand parade, no news teams, just a little conference in a little room. But that is not the way my brother is, he is a great man but not a subtle man."

    "He does seem larger than life." Sheridan related his own impressions.

    Hanse steered Sheridan to a more quiet corner of the hall.

    "Have you heard the phrase that war is politics by other means? My brother also believes the opposite is true, that politics may as well be warfare. It's understandable, but my brother's strategies in war are similar to his politics. All out frontal assault."

    "I got that impression." Sheridan smiled. "But you think differently?"

    "I think that it would have been better for both of us if your existence was less well known. By this time tomorrow, each of the great powers will know there is a new periphery nation, and the odds are good somebody in that room overheard the word warship. It won't take much for them to put two and two together."

    "Which could be a problem for us." Sheridan considered.

    "My brother is a man of his word, he won't make war on you, but he also won't defend you unless it serves our greater purpose." Hanse informed. "I would like to see strengthened relations with the periphery. You are on our border and I'd prefer you were in our sphere of influence rather than that of our enemies."

    "My government is interested in developing relations beyond the cordial." Sheridan affirmed. "We have a list of possible trade goods, and I am authorized to negotiate non-aggression pacts."

    "That might be a good first step." Hanse agreed. "I am sure you understand our position in this, we don't know you well and you clearly have secrets and an agenda, but it is in the interests of the Federated Suns to keep our periphery borders secure. If the Dragon was to make terms with you to base several regiments in Tortuga, that would be to our disadvantage."

    "My President is very keen on remaining neutral."

    "It's a safe option, but circumstances may not permit it forever." Hanse cautioned. "You have something that others may seek to leverage to their own advantage. Warships."

    "If they want to take our ships, they'll find it easier said than done."

    That brought a small smile of appreciation to Hanse. "Good, but if they can't bring you on side, they might try to destroy those ships, or your whole nation. My brother is content to leave you alone, but he is fairly unique in that respect. Draconis and the Capellans are far more likely to use all the tools at their disposal to bring you into their sphere of influence."

    "My President has decided to open diplomatic relations with each major power, to avoid any appearance of favoritism."

    "It's logical, but you may find many of the people you end up dealing with are far from logical." Hanse suggested. "I won't stop you of course, but I do urge caution. The Steiners and Mariks, you can likely approach as you did with us. But the Liaos and Kuritas, approach from a position of strength. They won't respect someone who just wants to be left neutral."

    "Thank you for the insight, Highness. Do you have any dossiers we could use on the other houses? Nothing confidential, just up to date useful information?"

    "I think Yvonne can round something up." Hanse glanced over. "I need to go speak with my brother, will you excuse me?"

    "Of course Highness." Sheridan inclined his head. "And thanks for the advice."

    "It's in my best interest too." Hanse nodded back. "Perhaps I can read that list of trade goods when we return?"




    Hanse weaved through the crowd to find his brother in conversation with Precenter Huthrin Vandel, Comstar's representative on the planet and pretty much the last person he should be chatting with.

    "Sorry to interrupt." Hanse absolutely was not. "I just need to borrow the First Prince."

    Vandel looked like he might object, but wisely deferred to the royals with a short bow. "I look forward to continuing this conversation later, Majesty."

    Hanse led his brother aside, Ian offering his younger sibling an amused look.

    "What happened, trouble?"

    "Vandel is always trouble, fifty pounds says he wanted to talk about warships."

    "That's an easy wager and you know it. I dodged his questions, you might be the brains of the family, but I'm not a complete fool."

    "Only an idiot would underestimate you." Hanse smiled. "I think we have an opportunity."

    "You believe this new nation can be trusted?"

    "I don't know yet, but trust isn't the key factor here brother, positioning is, and we must ensure a strong position."

    "Their man Sheridan seems nice and honest enough." Ian assessed.

    "A man doesn't gain that level of power and responsibility by being nice." Hanse shook his head. "He has the attitude of a small town bank manager but he is sharp witted, he hasn't given us anything we couldn't already figure out from Colonel Wolf's reports."

    "So what does he really want then?"

    "I think he genuinely does want good relations, and I don't think he is an enemy." Hanse drew his conclusions. "He's spoken about opening relations with the other houses too, they really are coming into this game blind."

    "Does it suit us?"

    "It does, better to keep his people neutral with the long term goal of allying." Hanse reasoned. "It will help your objectives too, the more friends we have, the better it will be when we reclaim what is ours."

    "It will be brother, it will." Ian grinned widely. "So we make friends, then what?"

    "They want to talk trade, it's worth a look, there might be something useful to us." Hanse took a moment. "But I don't think they are being fully honest about this war they were fighting. I think it hurt them a lot more than they are admitting. Wolf thought they were fighting a superior opponent, they'd taken damage to their warships and their army was well trained but skewed young. I don't think they are returning to these regions by their own free will."

    "Which gives us leverage?"

    "It does, but we should play it carefully. I don't think we need to apply much pressure here and we don't want them jumping in with our enemies if we drive them off. We should be welcoming, amenable."

    "Is this one of those times it is better to use honey instead of vinegar?"

    "I think so." Hanse nodded. "We need to learn a lot more about what is happening out on the periphery. It may have significant consequences for our long term objectives."
     
    14
  • New Avalon
    Royal Estates


    David Sheridan had rarely enjoyed such beautiful scenery. The expansive gardens of the royal residence were exquisitely maintained and laid out, no doubt the product of generations of diligent work and careful attention. It was a chill morning, as would be expected at this altitude but still bright, the climate of this planet was almost ideal for human habitation. He had taken his time at breakfast and now wandered these gardens, marking time until he was finally joined by his aide.

    "Mr. Morrison." He greeted the telepath. "Any trouble heading over here?"

    "None, I think the staff are keeping an eye on us, but there isn't anyone tailing us."

    "I'm pretty sure the waiter this morning was military intelligence, hands were too rough." Sheridan smiled. "But I don't see anyone out here, and I don't think they'd have listening devices so far out."

    "I know what you're going to ask me." Morrison's expression hardened. "And no, it's not because I can read your mind."

    Sheridan chuckled. "So obvious?"

    "I don't perform unauthorised scans, I need full consent from all parties." Morrison stated firmly. "I can only break that rule if there is an obvious and immediate threat to life. This doesn't count."

    "I respect your position Nigel, honestly I was just going to ask for your opinions on our hosts."

    "Oh." The telepath cleared his throat. "Well so far they seem honest enough, they are playing their cards close, but I don't think that's a surprise."

    "Can we make a deal with them?"

    "I think so."

    It had been the big question of the journey so far. The Davion household seemed open enough for what it was. He doubted they had a dungeon full of political rivals under the castle or maintained their rule by force or arms alone. In many ways, they seemed more stable than the Centauri, and while they were undoubtedly only showing the best of themselves, he could work with that.

    "You can still read their surface thoughts though?" Sheridan checked. "Nothing specific, but enough to tell me if they are being truthful?"

    "Yes, which I expect is why I'm here, isn't it?"

    "I don't need to know all their secrets, we have other means for that should the need arise." He didn't delve into details. "I just need to know that they can deliver on any promises."

    "Understood, that I can do." He paused. "Someone's heading this way, right toward us."

    "Smile and enjoy the view." Sheridan advised, firing up his best diplomacy face.

    He pretended not to notice until the last moment, turning with fake surprise when the newly arrived individual was just a few steps away. He had mostly come to terms with the medieval themes at play, the buildings, the ceremonies, and so on, but he did have a moment of difficulty accepting a grown man showing up in a wizard's robes.

    "Mr Sheridan, sorry to ambush you like this. I wanted to catch you yesterday, but the First Prince had you all to himself!"

    "Perfectly fine." Sheridan put on his best warm inoffensive smile. "You represent Comstar, right? Your uniform is pretty unique."

    "Yes, and yes." The man took a moment to look out over the view, perhaps trying to show an interest in the same thing Sheridan was. "Precentor Huthrin Vandel, I oversee the HPG station here."

    "Glad to meet you." Sheridan shuffled his memories to see what they had on Comstar. "Your organisation maintains the interstellar communication grid, if I recall?"

    "That is certainly what we are best known for, but we also seek to preserve and nurture knowledge, as was the goal of our most reverend Blake."

    "Blake being your leader?"

    "Our founder, over two hundred years ago." Vandel clarified for them, indulging them as a teacher educating students. "He foresaw the disasters that would befall the Inner Sphere and charged us all with keeping the flame of knowledge alive."

    "A noble goal, Precentor."

    "I am glad you understand. As I hear it, you have preserved some knowledge yourselves?"

    "I hope so, knowledge is power after all, wouldn't you agree?"

    "It can be, if one were inclined to use it as such." Vandel answered pleasantly, a smile nailed to his face. "But knowledge is also a reward in itself."

    "True enough." Sheridan accepted. "Did you have a proposal?"

    "I did, as I understand it you mentioned wanting to open relations with the rest of the Inner Sphere?"

    "As a matter of fact, yes, the Federated Suns are the closest to our border, but ultimately we'd like a broader understanding of how things are."

    "Comstar would be overjoyed to help." Vandel made the offer happily. "We have a presence on every major planet, it would be trivial to arrange a meeting for you."

    "That would be very helpful." Sheridan waited for the catch. "Why would you go to all that trouble?"

    "It's no trouble, and we are happy to help foster peace and understanding." Vandel replied humbly. "Normally, the leaders of the great houses wouldn't have much time for a periphery nation, but they'll pay attention to anyone who possesses warships."

    "Ah yes, that." Sheridan chuckled. "They seem to have made an impression."

    "Quite disruptive." Vandel said simply. "But so far nothing that can't be managed."

    Sheridan was definitely uneasy around this man. The basic intel they had on Comstar didn't offer too much, simply they were a quasi-religious cult that maintained the galactic communications network. In theory, they were harmless, but any organisation that gathered knowledge while also running the only long range communication system struck him as a major conflict of interest. That said, if they could set up meetings with the other nations, that would be worth working with them in the short term.

    "I'll talk to my government, but intend to recommend accepting your offer to arrange diplomatic meetings." Sheridan stated, much to Vandel's happiness.

    "That is wonderful news, Mr Sheridan, wonderful news." The Precenter beamed. "But how do you communicate with your home?"

    "Very slowly."

    "Ah, well, perhaps we can help there too." Vandel raised. "There is a HPG station on Tortuga you know, we disabled it some time back because, well, pirates, but we could have it working again in a few months."

    "Really? How very convenient."

    "Very much so." Vandel seemed to think Sheridan was sincere. "We may even be able to place one on your homeworld."

    "Well, one step at a time." Sheridan dialed back. "We'll talk about diplomatic overtures first and look into the communications later."

    "Of course, forgive my enthusiasm."

    "Well, I consider that a productive meeting, but if you'll excuse us it's getting close to our summit with the First Prince." Sheridan made his excuses. "We'll talk again once I have my instructions."

    "I very much look forward to it." Vandel bowed his head. "May Blake's wisdom light your way."

    "Right back at you."

    The robed man made his exit at a fairly brisk pace, no doubt keen to share the results of his conversation. Sheridan gave him a good long time to vanish before turning to Morrison.

    "What do you think?"

    "I think he's about as genuine as a Centauri trader offering us the real Mona Lisa."

    "Right." Sheridan laughed softly. "What about the meetings?"

    "He'll do that, take credit for it, of course, to advance his standing." Morrison worked out. "But we'll get what we need I think. I'm not so sure about the communication facility on Tortuga, that's not for our benefit."

    "We'll string them along until we get our diplomacy done then." Sheridan resolved. "And maybe pick up more information on these Comstar guys. I get the impression we're going to be running into them a lot."



    Hanse Davion was still mentally running through topics to raise when he noticed someone falling in beside him, the dark beard and amused eyes of Jaime Wolf offering a nod of welcome.

    "Morning, Highness."

    "Colonel Wolf, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Hanse wondered.

    "Just seeing where we stand on our guests." The mercenary voiced. "Will you be pressing them for more details today or are you satisfied with their story?"

    "I'm not, but looking at the list of trade goods they can offer, I'm not sure it matters." The Prince exhaled. "I want to learn more, but at the same time we really don't want to risk losing this deal."

    "Pretty handy that. Some might say they are buying you off."

    "Some might not know what life is like on the outback worlds." Hanse countered. "Politics is the art of compromise, and we are willing to compromise on the truth to gain this deal."

    "Can't say I really agree with that, highness." Wolf offered his opinion. "Might return to bite us all."

    "Nothing stopping us from continuing our investigation after we make a deal." Hanse observed as they walked the halls. "In fact, it could make it easier."

    They continued through the residential quarters and down through to the secure wing.

    "You seemed to have some ideas about them." Hanse noted. "Your questions seemed pretty specific."

    "You picked that up?" Wolf grinned. "Of course you did."

    "I can understand your concern, one group coming from nowhere with Warships is worrying, the idea there is a second group out there just the same... It is a definitely worth an investigation."

    "On that we agree completely."

    "But you had a specific idea didn't you?" Hanse pressed. "If you want me to ask, then I need to know what you are thinking."

    Wolf walked silently for a few steps mulling over exactly what to say, nodding to himself as he reached a conclusion.

    "Did you ever hear about the Minnesota Tribe?"

    "Once or twice." Hanse wracked his brain. "An old story about a mercenary group? A ghost fleet that vanished into thin air centuries ago?"

    "More or less." Wolf nodded. "They weren't ghosts, they were real. I've had some people looking into it, mostly just a curiosity, but I like a mystery."

    "That all it is? A mystery? Odd you'd devote time to old stories, Colonel."

    "I have my quirks."

    "And you think that's who we are dealing with?"

    "At first." Wolf nodded. "The Tribe was said to have warships and they were last seen heading out to the periphery through Suns space. But they were also exceptional mechwarriors and this Earth Alliance? No, they haven't got a clue about mechs. It's not them."

    "So you believe they're a cut off scion of the Terran Alliance?" "Hanse considered. "The name certainly fits."

    "It does. But that raises the question of who they were fighting. An enemy able to hurt their warships and inflict heavy losses on their army. Maybe enough losses to force them off whatever planets they owned."

    "Drive them back toward the Inner Sphere." Hanse understood. "The Minnesota Tribe?"

    "It's the best theory that fits the facts, but it's only a theory." Wolf said. "I want to know the truth, because if it is them, if it is that tribe? You're going to want to send us out there with every gun you can spare."

    "There's no way Ian would go for that, he's getting ready to throw you at the Dragon." Hanse shook his head. "Besides, our Alliance friends claim to have resolved that war. The Tribe might be powerful, but these are the people who still have their warships. Definitely suggests they came out on top."

    "Maybe, but I really want to know for sure."

    "I'll see if I can pick anything up, I'm interested too." Hanse admitted. "But not at the expense of derailing a trade deal."

    "Fair enough, highness."

    "Leave it to us from here on out, Colonel. I can appreciate your concerns, but this is the province of House Davion now."

    "Understood loud and clear." Wolf nodded, recognising the order for what it was. "But if you need anything, or require us to handle any other unexpected periphery guests, we're always ready."

    "So noted Colonel, I'm sure we'll have something to discuss later."




    There was no pomp and ceremony this time, the weaving colours of the royal court a memory of yesterday. Now there was just a table with David Sheridan and his two aides on one side, and Ian Davion, Hanse, and Yvonne on the other. It was a far more spartan set up than the usual royal opulence, but practical offering, no distractions from the work to be done.

    "We've had a chance to look through your list of trade items, and frankly it looks very appealing." Ian waved the paper in his hand. "You can spare this stuff?"

    "We can," Sheridan confirmed. "Seeds, chemical fertilisers, hardier breeds of common farm animals, and water purification facilities."

    "Any particular reason to offer these goods?" Hanse questioned pointedly.

    "As a matter of fact, yes. Many of the slaves we freed from the Tortuga pirates were from your fringe planets. A lot of farmers and labourers. We asked them what they thought your nation needed and this is what they said." Sheridan related. "And of course, we will return those citizens to you."

    "Reads like a farmer's wish list." Yvonne Davion remained unreadable. "But it's also valuable. This could greatly improve life on the outback worlds."

    "Better food production means a healthier population, that feeds into more industry." Hanse extrapolated. "It will strengthen us."

    "And that is the real benefit." Ian agreed. "If we can bring those planets up to a higher standard, it improves every element of the nation. I see no down side, and your requests in return?"

    "Some basic raw materials for use in our own construction projects. Silicon sands, certain rare metals, and beside that some information on the state of the galaxy."

    "We can probably arrange that, though nothing too classified." Ian chided. "Can't give away all our secrets."

    "Of course, majesty."

    "Can I assume that when you contact other houses you will offer the same trade goods?" Hanse worked out. "Agricultural assistance, nothing that offers a technological advantage? No weapons?"

    "That's right."

    "Could we convince you not to?" Ian asked. "Perhaps we can offer a little more if you keep this exclusive?"

    "I regret I can't, my President is very clear on maintaining neutrality. That means not picking favourites."

    "Once you meet the other Houses, you might see us in a far brighter light." Ian suggested. "The Steiners are reasonable enough, but the others are a mixed bag."

    "That is something we must discover ourselves, with respect."

    "Very well, Mr Sheridan, I'm certainly not going to refuse a deal like this just because somebody else might get it too." Ian seemed keen to move on. "I think we can shake hands on this."

    "There is something else, something we didn't want to put on paper." Sheridan halted them. "It's about Comstar."

    "Right, those guys." Ian exhaled. "Have they been trying to worm their way into your inner circle too?"

    "Yes, but this is something my President wanted to offer before we met them. In brief, full point to point secure interstellar communication."

    That had the desired effect. The room went quiet as they each ran through what that meant, even Ian who usually just tolerated these kinds of negotiations was suddenly very attentive.

    "What kind of communications?" Hanse took point.

    "As I see it, the HPG system is right now the only means of interstellar communication, and Comstar runs it, correct."

    "Go on." Hanse nodded. It wasn't the whole story, but it was close enough.

    "If you wanted to send secure information, how do you do it? How do you guarantee Comstar doesn't just read all you mail?" Sheridan asked.

    "We use heavy encryption." Yvonne answered. "And if it is valuable enough, courier ships."

    "So you need to either hope your encryption works, or you have to use a very lengthy and not entirely safe courier, correct?" Sheridan already knew the answer. "We have an alternative, a system of transmitters and booster relays you will own yourselves with no external interference."

    "How secure is it?"

    "It uses a system that doesn't even exist in the Inner Sphere, tachyon communications." Sheridan explained. "Now I'm not a scientist, so I can't say exactly how it works, only that it is instant across almost any distance, it is fully secure, and it allows face to face video."

    "So basically it is a perfect system that does everything we want?" Yvonne was obviously sceptical. "And you just give it to us?"

    "We value secure communications, it would allow my President to speak to you directly at any time. No need for couriers or Comstar peeking at our secrets."

    "And if we wanted to adapt this for battlefield use?" Ian switched his focus. "Is it only between your home and mine, or can we use this more broadly?"

    "We will provide enough transmitters and receivers so you can put one on whichever major world you want. And the relays to position in space to make it work. Just drop them every ten or fifteen light-years to keep the signal strength good."

    "And you will really just give us this?" Hanse frowned. "This is unprecedented, people don't just give away technology on this level."

    "It isn't a gift, its part of the deal. Rare metals, certain minerals." Sheridan repeated. "And secure communications benefit us too."

    "Will you be offering this to other powers too?" Yvonne recognised a pattern.

    "We will, so it is definitely to your advantage to take it."

    "How do we know you can't intercept these signals?" Hanse recognised. "Are we swapping one Comstar for another?"

    "We can show you how to encrypt your system, scramble the signal to your own specifications."

    "These rare metals." Hanse raised again. "These are used in weapons aren't they? Laser focusing lenses, magnetic coils, heat resistant materials?"

    "They are."

    "So you are building weapons, looking at these numbers, lots of weapons. And if you are giving the same deal to each great house, that translates as enough raw materials to mass produce high energy weapons on an unprecedented scale."

    Sheridan had to respect the young man, he was a sharp customer.

    "We do have a need for some new weapons."

    "Nobody has the industrial capacity to turn this much material into functional weapons. This would be equal to hundreds of warship grade weapons every month." Hanse did some quick arithmetic. "Either you are building a strategic stockpile, or you have a weapons industry equal to any great house."

    "We are in need of weapons, and it is a long term plan so we are looking to gather as much material as fast as we can." Sheridan replied. "But I don't think we'll use it all in one go."

    "You wouldn't expend these resources building weapons if you didn't need them." Hanse pushed on. "Giving away valuable communications technology is also very unusual. I am beginning to wonder if you are benefiting from this deal more than we are."

    "It doesn't matter." Ian stated simply. "This deal lifts countless millions of our people toward a better life. How can anyone benefit more than we do?"

    "There is danger out there, the threat you face, it hasn't gone away. You are still at war." Hanse extrapolated. "Who are you fighting?"

    "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

    "Tell me and find out."

    Sheridan glanced at his two aides, neither of them able to help much. This was going to be on his shoulders.

    "Well, my President didn't exactly want me to share this too early, but I can see you have a right to know. Just in case we didn't arrive here alone."

    "Who is it?"

    "This can't leave this room."

    "Agreed. Who are you fighting?"

    Sheridan had no choice.

    "Aliens."

    It was done, from this point he'd have to tell the truth, the reality hopping, the wild science that put them here, the Minbari war, all of the-

    Ian Davion broke out into a massive peal of laughter. He threw his head back in mirth and took a few moments to compose himself.

    "Keep your secrets then, but if there is ever danger to my borders I expect to be warned. I am content for us to be neutral partners, but if your actions or inaction threatens my security, I will be displeased. Is this acceptable and understood?"

    Sheridan didn't know exactly how to react, he just nodded. "Understood."

    "Fine, I'll have some scribes draw up a treaty. Nice fancy writing on parchment, it'll be a summary, we sign, apply the seal, then get on with other business. Agreeable?"

    "Brother, wait, I think..." Hanse began but was cut off with a wave.

    "Agreed?" Ian asked again.

    "Agreed." Sheridan accepted. "Once it's settled, I can put you in touch with our trade and development departments. Get things moving."

    "I'll have my people ready." He stood and extended a hand. "Thank you, Mr Sheridan."

    David rose and took the hand.

    "Thank you, First Prince."

    "We'll do the signing for the cameras tonight, just a formality."

    "We'll be ready majesty. With your permission then, mind if we break for lunch?"

    "A fine idea, eat hearty my new friends."

    The Davion trio remained seated as the Alliance delegation left, Hanse barely waiting until the door closed before launching into a tirade.

    "Why did you leave it at that? They are mass producing weapons! How do we know they won't throw them at us?"

    "Do we have any warships?"

    "What? No!"

    "Do you know where their factories are?"

    "No!"

    "Do you think that if we refused to sell them rare minerals, our opponents would do the same thing?"

    "I, I don't know."

    "So how do you propose preventing them from making weapons?" Ian asked simply. "We don't know where they are, and even if we did, we can't get a mech force in there to destroy their facilities when they have even one warship on guard and we have none. And if we try to stop their production, they just go elsewhere, better they come to rely on our supplies. That is leverage."

    "Leverage for what?"

    "For buying those weapons ourselves." Ian stated the fact as if it were obvious. "They are remaining neutral right now, but when they go see old man Kurita and he informs them they belong to the Dragon, what then? What about when they go talk to Max Liao and figure out he's going to lie, cheat, and kill to get his hands on what they have? What about the Taurians and their belligerence? He's going to go out there, and that hope for neutrality won't last six months. Then he comes back to us, sees we're the only sane party on his border, and he'll want to strengthen ties."

    "At which point we cut a better deal." Yvonne nodded along. "Weapons?"

    "Warships." Ian smiled immensely wide. "I think you are right little brother, I think they are making weapons for warships. I think they have a functional shipyard and that is why they are being so evasive. I think that they will be ready to swap one or two of those precious ships in exchange for a full alliance with us and protection from the other great houses. I think, little brother, that our plans are looking ever more realistic."

    "And what about the people they were fighting?" Hanse reminded. "What if they really are aliens, or someone just as powerful? If there is danger out there, our worlds will be struck first."

    "Then we really will need some warships." Ian seemed to be decided. "This is to our advantage, while the other houses try to lie, cheat or steal what this Earth Alliance has, we will simply wait and smile and let it all fall into our laps."
     
    Chapter 15
  • 15

    Geneva
    Earth


    "I think we can call it a success." Director Chapel was reserved but mostly pleased. "The trade deal is done, the non-aggression treaty signed, the borders are formalised, and we should have a direct secure commsline to New Avalon within the next couple of months."

    "Sounds like we have everything we wanted." President Levy was also cautiously optimistic. "Are there any issues? Anything that might come back and bite us?"

    "We don't think so, provided the Davions play fair and keep their end of the deal up, we should be fine." Chapel reassured her. "If they do prove trustworthy, we can look at expanding trade into other sectors."

    "Senator Clark has been talking constantly about selling medical supplies to these new powers." Levy exhaled. "His voice, but William Edgar's words."

    "There may be a demand for it soon." General Denisov joined. "News reports from the Federated Suns indicate a major battle shaping up at a planet called New Aragon."

    "They're fighting the Capellans, the party we were going to try and contact next." Chapel stated. "But given the now heightened tensions, we're going to try the Draconis Combine."

    "Draconis is considered one of the more militant factions, correct?"

    "Yes Madam President, dealing with them will require a very different approach."

    They wouldn't be the first aggressive nation the Earth Alliance had made terms with. Initial contact with the Narn was violent and sparked a minor border war, but ultimately things had stabilized rather well. It had required a balance of diplomacy and military posturing, perhaps something similar would be necessary here.

    "Have we managed to schedule a meeting?"

    "It's being brokered by Comstar, these are the guys who run the existing FTL communication system." Chapel explained. "But it turns out their influence extends well beyond keeping the commslines open. If they have the ability to set up meetings with senior leaders like this, they are definitely pulling on more strings than they want us to know."

    "They wanted to re-establish a base on Tortuga too, didn't they?"

    "Correct Madam President, they have a transmitter there, which they disabled. We had some people look over it, but all the key components were missing, so we have no real insight into how their comms works," Chapel said with clear disappointment. "Letting them back in could help us figure out what they are doing, but on the other hand, they refuse any oversight of their operations, which is a potential minefield."

    "Like having a small unaccountable sovereign nation sitting right there, handling communications." Denisov winced. "I don't think its an optimal solution, even if they are only talking to stations back within the Inner Sphere."

    "I'd be open to the idea if they submitted to the same oversight as any other corporation operating within our space." Levy allowed. "If they want to work with us, then they have to work within the rules."

    "I can get that message out to them, but I wouldn't expect them to compromise on it."

    "How about Ambassadors?" Levy asked. "Have we selected someone for New Avalon?"

    "The Senate has narrowed it down, we just need your signature." Chapel nodded. "Nice safe bets. We're also building a diplomatic quarter on Tortuga in expectation of hosting other Ambassadors. It is the recommendation of the EIA that, at this time, we do not reveal the location or even the existence of Earth."

    "The Joint Chiefs agree, Madam President. We should send everything through Tortuga instead." Denisov echoed. "And restrict any travel to KF equipped vessels."

    "No jump gate, then?"

    "Not at this time, Madam President. Best to keep some things secret until we are fully aware of the strategic situation."

    "Which we won't know until we've assessed each major power." Levy realized. "That will be a while."

    "We are recommending a second diplomatic mission." Chapel raised the suggestion. "While Secretary Sheridan does the rounds of the big houses, I'd suggest sending a second team to visit the periphery nations. The Taurians, Aurigans, and Canopus to start with."

    "Any ideas on who to send?"

    "Frederick Lantze, one of our Ambassadors at large, did a lot of good work with the League and Centauri." Chapel suggested. "Talented, but a safe bet."

    "How do we get him there?"

    "The first production batch of our new drives are ready to use." General Denisov informed. "We have Earth Force Two undergoing refit right now, and the first six of our restored scouts."

    "The ELINT ships?" Chapel recalled.

    "That's right, they are light explorer vessels by design, pressed into combat support roles. We've returned them to the Explorer Division and they are going to be used to survey planets around us. This whole region is apparently uncharted, with luck we'll find some useful resources."

    "Like Quantium Forty?" Levy recognized the value of that.

    "Yes Madam President, and other materials necessary for warship production."

    "The Omega class."

    "Correct, Madam President, and hopefully the Warlock class in the not too distant future."

    "Will these ships give us what we need to fight the Minbari?"

    "We believe so, though there are no guarantees." Denisov admitted. "We will begin mass production, devote as much of our resources as we can in preparation of returning and finishing the fight."

    Which of course brought the obvious question. "Any progress on that? Reversing our position?"

    "No, Madam President." Denisov spoke honestly. "Our scientific community hasn't worked out exactly what happened to drop us here in the first place. Trying to recreate the incident without understanding it is considered very unwise."

    "So we might be here for a while then?"

    "Which is why it is important to secure our position in this current reality." Chapel reinforced the idea. "Expanding our resource base, strengthening Earth Force, developing new technology. We wanted to buy some time to improve our chances against the Minbari, well, we got it."

    "And now we have to use it." Denisov spoke confidently. "Rebuild our fleet, modernize it, be ready to retake our colonies."

    "And if we can never go back?"

    "Then I suppose, Madam President, we make the best of what we can here." Denisov reasoned. "Stake out some territory here, where nobody else cares about, and expand away from the big powers."

    "Something for the Explorer division, which will be much faster thanks to our new drive systems." Chapel noted. "For now though, we can move forward with our trade deals, open up some embassies, and see how well the next round of diplomacy goes."



    Cooperland
    Fort Dayan


    Michael Garibaldi didn't know exactly what to expect. He had reasoned it would be a little different to his previous deployments, but he wasn't ready to see a large barrel-like machine stomping across a field with a dozen white coated scientists chasing after it like baby ducks following their mother. The machine made it a few hundred yards until it reached a gentle hill, at which point it snagged its metal foot and promptly fell flat. Even from half a mile away, he could hear the groans and angry shouting, one scientist literally jumping up and down in anger.

    "AI control version six, failure." A female voice remarked from a nearby vantage point. "Scrub the software and start again."

    He angled over to the individual, scruffy with dark circles around her eyes, dictating into a data tablet. She looked mostly scientific, so he reasoned she might be able to set him on his path.

    "Hi, hey, this a bad time?"

    "No." In the distance, the tumbled mech burst into flame. "This is fine, everything is fine. Are you here about the budget?"

    "No, it's my first day assigned here, mech division."

    "Oh thank Einstein's restless ghost." The scientist exhaled, a massive weight leaving her. "I don't know why this isn't working. How hard is it to walk in a straight line?"

    "He doesn't look like the most stable machine."

    "Humpty is perfect in every way!" The scientist defended. "Apart from motive stability."

    "Well I can see you're pretty busy here, with the fire extinguishing and cranes, so I just need to know where the pilot lab is."

    "Pilot..." Recognition dawned. "You have to be Lieutenant Garibaldi then, right?"

    "That's right, fresh and ready to get in over my head."

    "Lot of that going around. You better follow me."

    She backed away from the minor disaster, waving him after her.

    "Come on, this way, I have a neuro helmet waiting for you."

    "Right, is that good?"

    "It is if you want your mech to stay upright." She replied. "Angela Ginelli by the way, I'm looking after the mech team until they let me play with hyperspace again."

    "Who's they?"

    "The entire scientific community, apparently I was becoming a danger to myself and others, so I'm here for a while to cool off. Nice in theory, lots of plants, fresh air, but it fails a bit when I have to handle walking machines that can't. Sometimes I just want to throw things down some stairs."

    "I can get that." Garibaldi related. "So you're figuring out how they work?"

    "Not exactly, people on Earth are doing that with another batch of machines. This team is seeing if we can integrate our technology with these mechs. So far, nope, we can't." She gritted her teeth. "Damn things do not want to stand up straight, work fine with a pilot but automated gyro stabilization is difficult."

    The pair entered one of the plain concrete buildings and she led the newly minted officer through a maze of corridors.

    "Good news is the helmet was easy to shrink down, just needed to use some smaller components." She cracked open the door to a lab. "Take a look at the originals we had to work with."

    She pointed at a massive device that looked like it belonged in a medieval dungeon.

    "Yours is here." She picked up a far more normal looking gunship pilot's helmet. "Still a little heavy but at least you can move your head. Come on, sit down, lets calibrate it."

    Garibaldi did as told, Ginelli cramming the helmet onto his head before plugging in several wires and firing up a console to begin the process.

    "I'm hoping we can make this wireless for the production models, but right now I have to plug you in. If at any time you smell burning, that's not normal. You need to tell me."

    "Burning? Wait a sec..."

    "And we're on." Ginelli set to work. "Now this device picks up your brain waves and helps translate that into a control signal for your machine. Basically uses your sense of balance and motion to stop it falling flat like Humpty."

    "So it reads my mind?"

    "A little bit, we're still working on specifics." Ginelli wiggled her hand. "It's an area of active study, so you need to tell us if you have visions, blackouts, swelling of the brain, or sudden death."

    "You'll be the first to know."

    "It should be fine, its a very weak connection and there's no return signals. I think." The system beeped. "Okay, done, keep this helmet with you. All the mechs have a universal connector and the controls are neutral, so any pilot can use any of them. The General wanted it that way."

    "So I'm done?"

    "You are, mosey on down the corridor and your quarters are there. Look forward to seeing you out there, Mister Garibaldi!"

    "Look forward to being out there."



    Garibaldi barely had time to unload his gear before the work began, his link calling him to the small briefing room at the far side of the facility. Fort Dayan was huge, housing an entire division of forces, including an armoured brigade, artillery components, and air support, along with the expansive training areas needed for such forces. Space was at least something Cooperland had in supply.

    The Mech contingent was tiny compared to the other units, but still a fairly large unit, mostly mechanics and technical staff working on the six battlemechs the unit shared with the science team. There were only five actual pilots, of which Garibaldi had been the last to arrive.

    "Welcome." General Fraser took to the front of the briefing room, the other four pilots seating themselves in one of the dozen or so chairs. "As of today the First Independent Mechanized Cavalry Unit is hereby operational, congratulations to us."

    There were a few brief cheers, the unit simply keen to make a start.

    "Our task is to master the art of Mech warfare, to take this entirely new means of combat and create a doctrine for it. We will develop new tactics, study existing tactics, and we will work with the other units on the base to create a new combined arms force." Fraser outlined. "In so doing, we will determine if Battlemechs have a place in human warfare, and if they can be effectively deployed against known Minbari units."

    "Sir." One of the other pilots raised a hand, a tough looking woman in army fatigues. "What if we never see another Minbari?"

    "Then I guess we'll be fighting space knights and mercenaries." Fraser shrugged his shoulders. "Either way, what we learn here is important. Now as we are up here doing our job, there's another team on Earth at the Aberdeen Proving Grounds actually pulling these things apart to see how they work and if we can build them. They'll work out what the machines can physically do, while we work out how best to use them."

    "And the mad science guys in the next block over?"

    "They are seeing if our technology can be integrated with these mechs." Fraser replied. "Results so far are mixed."

    "Yeah, if that dumpy mech falls on its face again it might not get back up." Another of the pilots laughed.

    "Make fun all you like, wait until you see what they're doing to the other machine they have." Fraser grinned. "Quad linked pulse cannons and thermite missiles, last I saw."

    "Nice." The female grinned widely. "When do we start, General?"

    "Right now, you all have your neuro helmets?"

    There was a chorus of affirmative answers.

    "Any smell of burning when you used them?"

    Happily not.

    "Alright, we're hitting the simulators. The tech guys that set them up have been playing them like a VR game, they even have a score board." Fraser huffed. "I expect all of you to be at the top of that table by the end of the week, no egghead is beating us, clear?"

    "Yes sir!"

    "Get started then. Simulators this week, real steel next week. Dismiss and make it happen."



    Planet Luthien
    Draconis Combine
    A month later


    "You are most fortunate indeed, many petitioners wait their entire lives for just a few minutes with the Coordinator."

    David Sheridan walked at a fairly brisk pace through the astonishing architecture of the Unity Palace sitting as a gem in the industrial greys and browns. The elegant design, high quality wood and conservative illumination added an almost mythic feel to this place, like the universe didn't deserve to host something so transcendent. Whoever had built it knew exactly how to awe visitors and supplicants.

    "I trust you know the laws of the court, if you do not your education shall be swift and painful." The Attendant continued his lecture as he escorted them through the building, clearly not particularly pleased with their presence. "The Coordinator will speak, you will obey, that is all."

    Sheridan had a slightly different team this time, to his right was Nigel Morrison again, the telepath blank faced and observant. Both he and David had dealt with officious sticklers before, so weren't overly intimidated, they just had to follow protocol, be unfailingly polite, and not push things. Draconis was highly militant and had thoroughly embraced a version of Japanese culture that borrowed from the harsher ends of the spectrum. He was confident, but there was always the possibility some passing noble might want to test his sword on them.

    The third member of their party was new, he had remained on the ship during the meeting with the Davions before taking his place here today. Major Tetsuro Hamato gave no indication of concern, radiating pure confidence like he belonged here. He wore an eyepatch over the left side of his face and was in full dress uniform, with a number of gleaming decorations on his chest. Most notably at his side he carried a classic sword, a katana, fitted snugly in his waist belt.

    The Major was a student of history and well versed in the culture of the Shogunate, something apparently emulated here. While Sheridan had studied the etiquette, Hamato had the greater knowledge and would offer pointers if needed.

    "Wait here." The Attendant pointed to a space beside a large wooden door. "You, give me your sword."

    Hamato gave the man a look that would melt steel. "Do you address all warriors in such a way, servant?"

    "I require your sword." The Attendant spoke with a little more respect. "No weapons may be carried into the throne room."

    "Very well." Hamato withdrew the weapon and scabbard from his belt and carefully handed it over. "Treat it well, I will know if you have not."

    The Court Attendant retreated leaving the small part alone.

    "I'll say this, Tetsuro." Sheridan exhaled, releasing some tension. "You scared me."

    "Sorry sir, I'm just playing it up." The officer broke into a grin. "Just watched a bunch of old Samurai movies before we headed down, I think I got it nailed."

    "Most of the people here are fearful." Morrison offered his own thoughts. "If they screw up, they'll be punished harshly. Not much in the way of mercy here."

    "So it seems." Sheridan accepted. "I don't like it much but we've got a job to do, even if these guys are monsters, we don't want a war. We'll play nice, get the ball rolling on a deal, then get out of here and go visit the Lyrans."

    "Prince Davion seemed to be more comfortable talking about them, hopefully they'll be receptive to our efforts."

    The wooden door clanked and began to open halting further conversation. They cleared their minds, fixed a neutral expression, and got ready for the show.

    The room beyond was suitably ornate, the wooden floor beautifully polished while the walls hung with painted tapestries showing scenes from history. The roof was expansive, a gold speckled depiction of a starscape, and there at the end, upon a raised throne, waited Takashi Kurita, the Dragon made manifest.

    "My Lord and Eminence." One of the Retainers announced them. "Ambassador David Sheridan of the Earth Alliance."

    The trio of visitors bowed low as was the custom, remaining so for a few long moments before returning upright, Kurita watching them with a guarded expression. He did not speak for a while, and of course nobody else dared speak before the Coordinator, the lord of the realm taking his time assessing each guest in turn. When he was satisfied, only then did he stand.

    "Trade deals do not concern me." Takashi finally spoke, his voice deliberate and modulated. "They are the province of lesser men."

    He took some steps forward to observe the delegation more closely.

    "The affairs of minor nations are also of little consequence, the Dragon must always observe the greater enemies." Takashi continued to walk closer. "You are here because I am curious. I wish to understand why Prince Davion welcomed you so warmly."

    "I believe, my lord, it is because we did him a service." Sheridan took this as the time to reply. "We eliminated the Pirates at Tortuga, removing a threat to his far border."

    "As I had heard." Takashi nodded. "With his far border secure, he may now move combat units from there to my borders. Perhaps use them to attack my worlds, my people."

    Takashi revealed little, his face stony.

    "It is the way of things, I do not expect you to be fully aware of this." Takashi turned aside. "You did not kill the Pirates for Davion, they were a threat to you, correct?"

    "Correct, my lord."

    "And you dealt with them decisively. I understand they are crushed entirely and their worlds are now yours?"

    "That is so."

    "I am also sure Prince Davion held such a ceremony for the benefit of his own image. He has been criticized for not doing enough to control his ministries at home, that he is neglecting his domestic duties. I have no doubt your visit was merely an excuse to show his worlds he takes his duties seriously." The Coordinator mused. "Still, did you offer him a similar deal to the one presented here?"

    "Identical, Lord Kurita." Sheridan confirmed. "And we offered him something more, something not on the official list. We offer this to you also."

    "Speak it."

    "Point to point secure faster than light communications." Sheridan stated simply. "Fully secure, under your exclusive control, in exchange for the rare minerals and metals outlined in the proposal."

    "I can understand the advantage of such a thing." Kurita maintained an even expression. "And why you did not mention it sooner. This meeting was arranged by Comstar, I expect they would be less amicable if they knew what you were really offering."

    "Perhaps, my lord."

    "They will find out eventually, they are surprisingly good at listening." Takashi gave the tiniest of warnings. "Such matters are for merchants, but I do not believe this has been unproductive."

    He walked over to Tetsuro, staring with interest at the officer.

    "You brought a sword to my palace. Guardsman, bring it!"

    One of the black clad soldiers hastily departed to find the weapon.

    "Your name?"

    "Tetsuro Hamato, Major, Earth Force Marine Corps."

    "You have the dress and style of a warrior, is this so?"

    "It is."

    "You know battle?"

    "I do."

    The guard returned with the sword in hand, holding it out to Takashi.

    "Stop!"

    The room froze, that was not the voice of Takashi Kurita. Everyone locked their eyes on Tetsuro, most of them in absolute horror as the Earth Force officer released fury on the guardsman.

    "You dare treat my sword in such a manner? You carry it like a stick! Like something you picked up from the gutter! You dishonor yourself in your ignorance!"

    There was absolute silence, the guardsman unable to move, absolutely unprepared for this situation. Everyone waited for the next move, eyes darting to Takashi, then back to Tetsuro, most inwardly preparing for bloodshed.

    "He is right." Takashi finally spoke, his acknowledgement taking most by surprise. "A katana is held in both hands horizontally when presented to a superior. This is common etiquette. You shame my court in front of guests."

    "I...I..." The guardsman hastily corrected his stance, lowering his head and presenting Tetsuro's sword properly. Takashi took it from him, feeling the weight of the sword and examining the workmanship of the scabbard.

    "Leave." He ordered, the guardsman vanishing as fast as dignity allowed. Takashi took more time to look at the weapon, treating it well. At last, he drew it a few inches to inspect the blade, his expert eye taking in the subtle details.

    "This is an excellent weapon, Tetsuro Hamato." Takashi passed judgement. "Does it have much age to it?"

    "Less than twenty years, my lord, it was forged for my father in honor of his victories."

    "Your father then was a warrior?"

    "He led the full strength of my world into a great war against a despicable enemy."

    "Was he victorious?"

    "Yes, my lord."

    "And where is he now?"

    "He was killed in the final battle of that war." Tetsuro related simply. "Both he and the enemy commander slew each other after exhausting all of their power."

    "I see." Takashi continued to study the blade. "Then his death was a most honorable one. What of the enemies he faced?"

    "None survived."

    "As it should be."

    He slid the sword back into its scabbard.

    "The blade is marked with a kanji, do you understand its meaning?"

    "It symbolizes duty. It was the center of my father's life, as it is now mine."

    Takashi took a long moment to study the officer, weighing up his words and attitude before holding out the sword, in the correct horizontal position.

    "Take your sword."

    Tetsuro did as instructed, the half dozen palace guardsmen in the room instantly tensing.

    "Wear it, Tetsuro Hamato. It is your weapon, the mark of your honour and your duty. Return it to your side."

    Takashi smiled thinly as Tetsuro did as instructed.

    "You see my retainers? Perhaps they think I have taken leave of my senses to arm a stranger in my very throne room. Perhaps they think me mad, or foolish?" He glanced around at the small assortment of guards and close nobles waiting on the lord. "But you will not harm me. Why is that?"

    "I would dishonor myself if I struck a host in his own castle while he was unarmed."

    "Spoken as a true Samurai." Takashi approved. "What if your lord ordered you to do so?"

    "I would refuse his order, and then pay the price for that refusal."

    "This then is where we differ, for I would expect you to carry out every dishonorable request I gave you, and then cleanse your honor after you had served me." Takashi related quietly. "You still have something to learn, but you are not of the Dragon, so I do not scorn you for this." He nodded slowly. "You also know what I would do to your home planet if you drew that blade, don't you?"

    "I can make an educated guess, my lord."

    "And duty to your people ensures you would not bring such a fate upon them." Takashi understood. "But, if your leaders were as devoted as you are to the path of the warrior, they would gladly sacrifice a planet to take the life of the Dragon, don't you think?"

    "I do not know, my lord."

    The Coordinator stepped back, issuing several orders in Japanese to his retainers who scurried off before returning his attention to his guests.

    "Come with me." He instructed. "All three of you to the courtyard. There is something more I wish, you have awakened my curiosity."

    They party followed as requested, indulging Lord Kurita in his distraction. If it made a good impression, that was sufficient. They arrived momentarily at a courtyard, fragrant flowers filling the air with perfume. Servants had set up some upright wooden poles wrapped in tatami mats, the traditional targets for testing swords.

    "Tetsuro Hamato, you will cut these mats." Takashi wasn't asking. "You carry a noble weapon, you speak well, but I will judge if you are a warrior. Take your position."

    The Major shared a quick look with Sheridan, acutely aware that the fate of this diplomatic mission rested on this rather archaic test. He stepped down into the courtyard and faced the first pole, settling his breathing, gripping his sword, and in a single move drawing the blade and neatly slicing the top from the target. He made a few more cuts, the sword as good as he had hoped it would be.

    "Now the next." Takashi directed. "Wait."

    The Coordinator stepped forward and gripped Tetsuro's arms like a teacher, adjusting them as they held out the sword.

    "Do not lock your elbows, and ensure your angle is always matched to your target." Takashi retreated. "Begin."

    Tetsuro did so, making four more cuts and demolishing the target.

    "There, the angle grants you greater strength, a cleaner cut." Takashi approved. "Your sword is exquisite, the work of a master."

    He waved over a servant carrying another sword.

    "Now watch a master, Tetsuro Hamato."

    Kurita walked into the courtyard sword in hand, he went straight past the mats and stood in the sunlight, the blade shining silver. As he waited two guardsmen arrived, dragging between them a beaten prisoner. Sheridan immediately stiffened, he had a very bad instinct about where this was going.

    "A traitor." Takashi announced for the benefit of anyone who could hear. "A man who owes his service to the Dragon, yet you seek to steal away worlds from my wise rule. A Rasalhague separatist, constant thorns in my side."

    The prisoner stood straight and tall, he was beyond fear now, he was ready.

    "Do you have any words traitor?"

    The broad man smiled slightly, bloodied but unbroken. "Lo, there do I see my father. Lo, there do I see my mother and my sisters and my brothers."

    Takashi rolled up his sleeves as the Norseman made his peace, the Coordinator granting him the few seconds necessary to finish his death prayer in recognition of his courage.

    "They bid me take my place among them, in the halls of Valhalla, where the brave may live forever."

    "Remind them their children still serve the Dragon."

    The cut was quick, a flash of silver and done. Takashi was walking away before the head even hit the ground, holding up his sword.

    "Look Tetsuro, there is not a drop of blood on it. The blade is so sharp and smooth, and my cut so perfect, it has not even been stained. This is the level you must aspire to."

    "As you say, my lord." Tetsuro kept a very calm demeanor as the body was dragged away and buckets of water poured to wash away the blood.

    "You have seen battle, have you not?" Takashi asked plainly. "You have taken lives?"

    "I have."

    "With this sword of yours?"

    "Once."

    "Speak of it."

    "It was two years ago, I was deployed with my unit to a small outpost that was struck by overwhelming enemy force." Tetsuro told the tale, working hard to keep his voice even. "As a soldier, my weapon is the plasma rifle, the hand grenade, the bayonet. But on that day, I knew I would not survive, so I took up this sword. I decided if I died, I would do so with my father's blade at my side."

    He cleared his throat.

    "We were rapidly overwhelmed, I fought until my rifle ran dry, and my sidearm. I expended my grenades, tried to consolidate my position, keep my men alive and fighting as long as possible. We had no hope for survival, our goal was simply to kill as many of our enemies before we fell.

    "I found myself face to face with one of their warriors. I had no other weapons save this sword, so I drew it and made my peace. The warrior though, he did not shoot me, he saw my blade and deemed it a challenge. He threw away his rifle and drew his own sword. He was bigger than me, far stronger with greater reach, but he made a mistake. He underestimated my readiness to sacrifice.

    He attacked, expecting me to dodge or parry. I did not, I was ready to die to that blade if, in return, I could strike him down in the same instant. He must have miscalculated. He missed the killing blow but still took my eye and left me this scar."

    "And your opponent?"

    "I took his head." Tetsuro remembered the surprised expression on the Minbari warrior as it fell to the ground. "That is when the airstrikes began, reinforcements arrived. We did not die that day."

    Takashi Kurita gave a single nod.

    "You will have your deal, Mr Sheridan. I do not need your farm equipment, my people eat what they need. More is a waste, it will make them indolent. I will take your water purification plants and your communication technology, you will have a proportionate amount of metals in return."

    "Thank you, Lord Kurita." Sheridan bowed.

    "I will sign no treaty of non aggression. One day your nation will join mine and such treaties will be pointless." Takashi dismissed. "A Dragon is often called greedy. It gathers all precious things toward its horde. This is not an insult. I will gather all of value, all the worlds of mankind near and far. All will serve the Dragon, and in turn the Dragon will serve them."

    He turned back to Tetsuro.

    "When the day comes, will you serve me?"

    "I regret I may serve only one master, and that is Elizabeth Levy."

    "And if she surrenders to the Dragon as she must, then there will be no contradiction."

    "I do not believe she will surrender without a fight."

    "So be it." Takashi half smiled. "I value honorable warriors as servants, but I also value them as enemies. If your leader is foolish, then I look forward to meeting you in battle. I promise that if you gather all warriors with Samurai spirit, I will send my finest to battle you. They will give you an honorable death."

    "Perhaps it is they who will die well."

    "Spoken well." Takashi allowed. "If it is so, there is no shame in such a death. One way or another though, your worlds will one day be mine, and the Dragon will embrace all that you have and welcome you in service."

    He nodded to his retainers, a sign the matter was concluded.

    "Go in peace, the details of this trade can be determined by my ministers. Give my regards to Katrina Steiner." He chuckled coldly. "If she still lives."
     
    Chapter 16
  • 16

    EAS Lexington
    Tortuga


    It had been a long time since the planet had seen so much activity, and certainly such legitimate activity. Dozens of cargo ships were sitting in orbit, a loose ring above the world, waiting while they unloaded their cargo into a parking spot, where it could then be gradually transported to the surface. A small space station had been established to monitor and oversee the cargo operations temporarily, until a bigger and better facility was built.

    There was no jumpgate, but the beacon links had been established, allowing for a steady stream of traffic from Earth, providing at least one of the ships had its own jump engine. This usually meant the convoys arrived with military escort, and today that escort was the Lexington.

    It was a routine mission, the sort of task common to peacetime military operations and was actually something John Sheridan welcomed. It was a return to normal duties and a relaxing of the wartime rigors the fleet had still been operating under. Until recently, there had been an underlying current that the danger had not yet passed, that the Minbari could follow them or find a way to continue their attack and thus the fleet had been kept at readiness, focused on Earth. That alert had now finally been cancelled after several months of steadily reduced readiness.

    Earth Force was going back to what it had been, financing exploration in addition to security. While combat ships remained the priority, the major shipyards at Luna were starting to build exploration ships, a mixture of the medium sized Oracle class scout ships and the massive long range true Explorer ships. The change in priorities was reflected with a gradual shift in attitudes among many officers.

    "An Explorer ship?" Anna Keller gave him a frown across the slightly crackling commlink, definitely not sold on the idea.

    "There's going to be more of them soon, and there's definitely a need for them." Sheridan outlined. "They're going to want commanders."

    "Right, but you know what that means? Those ships can stay out there for years." She met his eyes across the viewscreen. "I'd never see you."

    "But that's the best part!"

    Her expression turned sharp. "John, you need to think carefully about your next words."

    "No, no, I mean most Explorer ships have an IPX contingent. You could easily get a transfer, we can serve together. Both of us doing what we love with who we love."

    Her hard expression broke at that. "You have this all planned out."

    "It'll be a year or two at least, maybe longer if we wait for a real Explorer ship, but once we're in, we'll be good for the rest of our careers."

    "It's a big commitment, but I'm open to it. Exploring this new universe is going to be amazing." Anna agreed. "We found an old military base, it was mostly empty, but we dug up a few rifles and sets of body armor. Imagine what else might be out there."

    "Exactly!" Sheridan enthused. "When we get the family together, we'll finally get married, then I'll request a posting with the Explorer Division. Old Jack Maynard got in, so I think he'll put in a good word for me."

    "You're old commander." Anna remembered. "Well, I'm happy to go along with it, suits my career goals too. Plus it would be nice to actually spend some real time together."

    Whatever other plans they were going to discuss were cut short by the sudden klaxon call to alert status going off, the harsh noise instantly changing the atmosphere.

    "I have to go, sounds like they need me."

    "John? What is it?"

    "Probably just a couple of freighters arguing about docking priority." Sheridan lied. "I'll go sort it out and we'll talk later. Give my best to your coffee fiend friend."

    "Be careful! Love you!" She called across the gulf as Sheridan grabbed his blue jacket from the velcro wall strips.

    "I will, love you too sweetheart."

    The screen went black, Sheridan holding there for a long moment as he reflected on the words and what they meant. He did have something worth fighting for, worth surviving for, a reason to get the job done and come home. Whatever he had to do to make that happen, he was damn well going to do it.

    "Bridge, Sheridan." He tapped the communication link on the back of his hand. "Status?"

    "Captain, unscheduled jump ship arrival at the local pirate point. No markings, no IFF, no comms yet."

    "Understood, put fighters on Alert Five and bring all systems to combat readiness."

    He dragged on his uniform jacket, confident but wavering ever so slightly. This wasn't the Minbari war anymore, where hope was scant and survival rarely expected. There was a growing future, something to really look forward to, a reason not to throw oneself head first into danger. Balancing duty and his own personal wishes wasn't something he'd done in a while, he was going to have to learn again how to resolve himself.



    EAS Lexington

    "Any change?"

    "No sir." Commander Carroll updated his Captain. "Two jumpships, big ones, each hauling six large dropships."

    "Have they detached?"

    "No sir, still docked."

    Sheridan swung around into his chair and belted in, glancing at the summary of information and the tactical plot. He guessed the new arrivals were taking a good look around before deciding their next move, though the lack of communication was concerning.

    "Signal to Bearn, Danube, and Colorado. Form on my position and screen the civilian vessels."

    "Aye sir."

    "Still no response from the new ships?"

    "Nothing, sir."

    "Then we better go over there and see what they want." Sheridan decided. "Put interceptors on automatic, launch fighters, and get a message to command detailing our situation."

    The Earth Force ships took up a defensive posture, a pair of cruisers with a couple of Olympus corvettes as escort. There were more ships closer to the planet, a mix of corvettes and frigates defending the cargo station and low orbit, but Sheridan preferred to keep them close to the civilians in case there was something else at play.

    "I don't like this one bit." Sheridan grimaced, his task force moving forward. "No change?"

    "No sir."

    The ships were too uniform to be pirates, but too plain to belong to one of the local powers. Intel had provided a decent briefing on local capabilities and unit colors, none of them matched these two transports.

    "Captain, highly focused scans." Carroll warned. "I think they just went weapons hot."

    "Return the favor."

    "Unknown ships are launching fighters, targeting systems online!" Carroll called the warning. "Locking weapons on us and the civilian ships."

    "Order the second taskforce to increase altitude and standby for contact." Sheridan brought the guard ships into play. "Increase speed to flank, standby all weapons."

    "Enemy fighters forming up, sir. I have- sir, I have eighty contacts."

    "Eighty?"

    "Yes sir, multiple types, some of them are a lot bigger than the ones we've seen so far."

    That was definitely not good, he had twelve fighters available to him, the smaller escort ships having no ability to carry Starfuries and the garrison nothing to offer. He did however have eight frigates and corvettes possessing a fully integrated interceptor grid. That might be enough.

    "I need the frigate group in a screen covering the civilians, but advancing. Pull in our own escorts and set up a kill box. Fighter group is free to engage as it sees fit."

    "Yes, Captain."

    "Can we hit those jump ships?"

    "Range is still long Captain."

    "Alright, we'll push through and take them as quickly as we can. Set interceptors for barrier defense, standby to engage."

    "Captain, missiles in the sky, hostiles are opening fire!"

    That neatly solved any doubts about the rules of engagement.

    "Weapons free, all units engage at will."

    The unknown invaders began to fill the sky with weaponry as quickly as the attached dropships could manage it. The long carriers emptied their hangars, while the more bulky direct combat units began popping off as many long range heavyweight missiles as they could manage. The arsenal was split, some heading for the Lexington and her group, while the rest accelerated toward the civilian units and their six escorting light warships.

    "Captain, Earth Force states it is deploying reinforcements. Two cruisers from convoy duty. Estimate two hours until arrival."

    "This will be over in fifteen minutes." Sheridan set aside any ideas about delaying the battle. Eighty fighters was definitely not a good set of odds. Whoever this was knew that just because they didn't have their own capital ships, that didn't mean they were powerless. "Get some anti-ship missiles in the tubes."

    "Ready, sir."

    "Take a long range shot at those jump ships, see what they do."

    The Lexington opened her bow tubes and launched a pair of nuclear tipped weapons, their targeting looping them around the mass of incoming fighters and angling them around to catch the enemy ships.

    "Six minutes until our missiles arrive. Enemy fighters in range in one minute."

    "Concentrate on the larger fighters, odds are they are bombers and I don't want to see what they are hauling."

    "Starfuries breaking to attack, corvettes are firing anti-fighter missiles."

    The two corvettes in formation with the Lexington and Bearn started launching salvoes of smaller defensive missiles from their flank missile bays. Smaller and more nimble than the heavy weapons of the Lexington, the missiles weaved and curved through the formation, selecting their individual targets to engage head on while the Starfuries dropped in from above.

    It was a good tactic but these incoming pilots were not pirates. The first wave consisting of light fighters split by squadron and met their enemies head on, some going for the missiles and others for the inbound Furies. Bright laser and particle discharges signaled the fight beginning in earnest, fighters closing and frantically dodging to achieve a superior position.

    The defensive missiles drew first blood, each one breaking open into a dozen smaller guided munitions that saturated the first line of inbound squadrons. Many missed, decoyed by countermeasures, clouds of chaff, rapid evasion, or in some cases well aimed interception fire, but others were pelted by the explosive warheads and shredded.

    Beside them, the Starfuries engaged, rapid blue pulses striking their targets, each hit ripping away chunks of the hull and structure of the light fighters. In return, the inbound squadrons unloaded with everything they had, the Furies jinking wildly to avoid most of the fire, but not all of it. Two Earth Force fighters went dark, losses Sheridan could ill afford with the main body of the inbound fighter group still incoming.

    "Enemy missiles in range."

    "Clear them."

    The guns of the taskforce began to speak, precisely aimed pulses of energy reaching out to catch the inbound missiles. They were easy enough targets, they didn't perform any evasive turns or have much in the way of jamming, but every shot made against a missile was a shot not taken against the fighters.

    "Enemy strike squadrons are splitting, looks like they're going to hit us from multiple directions at once." His First Officer remained glued to the sensors.

    "Civilian ships?"

    "Getting some distance, looks like the enemy are focused on us."

    "Bring the other escorts up here, best speed, we'll concentrate fire on the strike craft." Sheridan decided. "Starfuries?"

    "Not good, they're heavily engaged with the hostile fighter screen and taking losses, they won't be able to disengage."

    "And we can't support them yet." Sheridan grimaced. The enemy airwing was working as intended, their initial light fighter screen had swept aside Sheridan's fighters and were tying them up leaving the warships open for the bombers. "We could really use a carrier of our own right about now."

    The heavyweight attackers angled their fighters inward, each unit forming up either on the Lexington or Bearn, giving their full attention to the largest of the EA ships. Logically, it made sense, but it at least showed these attackers didn't really know the strength of their enemy. As potent as the heavy cruisers looked in this scenario, the Corvettes were infinitely more dangerous.

    "Angle the ship for maximum coverage, keep us in the box." Sheridan made the last few final adjustments. "Set weapons for long range dispersion fire, swap to barrier fire as the range closes."

    "Set."

    "Fire when the sights match."

    The big pulse cannons elevated, not the most suitable of weapons for anti-fighter work, but their high rate of fire and excellent accuracy made them surprisingly effective. As soon as the targeting data aligned, the big guns opened up, the two cruisers spraying particle bolts into the sky. At this range hits were unlikely, the goal was to disperse the enemy formations, break up their groupings, and string them out. It was better to defend against several small units arriving one after another, rather than one single mass hitting together.

    One or two heavy fighters exploded, their strength not offering much defence against the ship killing heavy guns. They broke formation and evaded the attacks, but quickly reformed and continued their approach, the pilots apparently well trained and disciplined enough to press the attack, even into heavy gunfire.

    "Light fighters have broken through our screen, they're angling toward us."

    "Stay on the bombers." Sheridan quickly balanced the threat levels. "We can't switch targets now."

    It was a simple calculation, the light fighters would almost certainly try to knock out the Lexington's guns and targeting sensors to let their big brothers finish the strike. That was not something Sheridan could easily ignore. If he switched to engage them though, he'd lose valuable seconds as the turrets rotated and the sensors had to gather and calculate fresh target data. By the time that happened, they'd be on him anyway. He would have to put his faith in the sturdiness of his ship and the abilities of his escorts, a risky decision and most of the crew knew it, but it had to be done. Definitely not the first gamble this ship had made.

    The guns kept firing outward, the smaller cannons on the corvettes now coming into play. These were much smaller twin light pulse cannons, less dangerous to warships but absolutely lethal to fighters. Their accuracy and high rate of fire filled nearby space with blue light, instantly slicing half a squadron of light fighters out of the sky. The survivors pressed on undaunted, sharply dodging through the hail of fire to pepper the Lexington with missiles and energy weapons.

    "Impacts, starboard side." Carroll noted. "Negative hull breaches."

    "They'll try again. What about their main strike group?"

    "Accelerating hard, they're putting everything into this one strike."

    "Then they're probably armed with something nasty. Warn the escorts to prepare for a full saturation attack."

    The warships braced, many of the heavy fighters had been brought down, but plenty remained. Some struggled on with missing wings and burning engines, their pilots absolutely devoted to the mission keeping their craft on target.

    "They're inside final barrier range." Carroll called. "Increasing our rate of fire to maximum."

    The Lexington and her escorts intensified their fire, dumping emergency power into the weapons, overheating the system rapidly in exchange for unleashing a short range storm of pulse cannon shots. There was virtually nothing known that could survive that kind of killbox, but here something did. Anything hit by a heavy pulse shot stopped existing, but the heavy fighters proved resilient to the smaller shots from the corvettes. Enough made it into point blank range to deploy their missiles and then burn hard away from the maelstrom, the attack perfectly timed to bring in missiles from three directions simultaneously.

    "Evasive action, launch countermeasures!" Sheridan shouted, his officers already making it happen. "Collision alert, brace for contact!"

    All four Earth Force ships broke formation and tried to scatter, easier said than done with such massive vessels. The guns switched from engaging the strike craft to firing on their ordnance instead, dozens of hefty Arrow series missiles vectoring in on each ship. Chaff and decoys popped in glittering clouds, guns still spat blue fire. One of the corvettes had reloaded its missile racks fast enough to get a few interceptors out. It was a final few seconds of absolutely desperate chaos that succeeded in thinning down the strike, but not in stopping it.

    The Lexington buckled as a quartet of nuclear warheads detonated on her flanks, brief flashes of light coupled with a shower of molten metal and boiling gases. The other ships also took damage as the nukes flashed like cameras at a concert, the Corvette Danube losing a massive section of her forward hull to a trio of well placed hits.

    "Confirmed nuclear strikes, heavy damage to port side armour, hull breaches are contained, damage control teams responding!" Carroll did his job despite the ratcheting stress, the whole bridge broadcasting warnings.

    "Bring us back on a steady course!" Sheridan demanded. "Where are the enemy fighters?"

    "Changing course and getting ready for another run, it's taking them time to decelerate."

    "Stay on them, they've still got guns!"

    "Aye sir!"

    "Escorts?"

    "Danube is down, Colorado and Bearn are still operational and engaging." Carroll checked. "Frigate group is moving into range."

    "Have them vector to support us against the enemy fighters, and keep us moving toward those enemy jumpships! As soon as we are in range, kill them dead!"

    The Lexington moved on, pillars of smoke from internal fires jetting out into space as damage control teams tried to shut off the flow of air and liquids fueling the conflagrations. She was damage, hull cratered and peeling, but still functional, the hits were not so powerful as Sheridan had feared. Even so, if they hadn't thinned out the strike first, it could have been very nasty.

    The Bearn and Colorado held station, their guns still spitting at the attackers, tracking the light and heavy craft as they approached. By now the formations were jumbled, the enemy fighters keeping in close and making repeated gun runs on the warships. Their weapons were leaving a mark, but the thick hulls of the heavy cruisers shrugged off the laser and particle beams. It would take several hits on the same location to wear the armor down, and anyone lining up on the same spot became an easy predictable target.

    "Frigate group is coming into range." Carroll noted. "They're engaging in support."

    The fresh ships finally arrived from the planet, the Artemis frigates unleashing a vicious coordinated strike from their pulse cannons into the swirling mass of enemy fighters. The attack was far more intense than that from the similarly sized corvettes, the Artemis class possessing more modern weapons and fire control.

    It proved to be decisive, the surviving attackers broke off and made for the two jumpships still sitting and watching at the pirate point.

    "Stay on them, I want more long range fire on those enemy vessels!" Sheridan ordered.

    "Loading another salvo of anti ship missiles."

    The enemy commander was now faced with a simple choice. Recovering his surviving fighters would take time, time enough that the damaged but still fully armed Earth Force ships could close in and engage. While his ships had some weapons, they had no hope in such a fight, therefore the decision was obvious. He dumped his lithium battery charge into his jump drives and vanished.

    "Enemy ships just jumped away, that was a hell of a fast recharge!" Carroll grimaced in disappointment.

    "Alert our sensor stations and outposts." Sheridan commanded. "Maybe we can spot them on their way back."

    "There are still enemy fighters present, permission to engage."

    "Open a channel first." Sheridan held them back, if they could take a few pilots alive it could be an intelligence goldmine. "Unknown fighters, your situation is hopeless, surrender and we promise fair treatment under the rules of..."

    As he spoke the fighters each exploded, the pilots choosing to self destruct rather than be captured.

    "I suppose that solves that problem." Carroll exhaled. "Fanatics."

    "Fanatics with high quality equipment, advanced training, and nuclear weapons." Sheridan pointed out bluntly. "They underestimated us, I doubt they'll make the same mistake twice."

    "You expect them to try again, sir?"

    "Unless their objective was to show up and die, I'd think so." Sheridan reasoned. "Get a download of our sensor logs to command, they're going to have to begin reinforcing these colonies much more heavily than they do now."



    Tharkad
    Capital World of the Lyran Commonwealth


    The scenery was absolutely beautiful, frigid mountains surrounding snow blanketed valleys and hardy evergreen forests. It was cold but clear, the sky pale blue with a few wisps of white clouds hanging lightly above. It would have been perfect skiing weather if anyone had thought to bring some.

    The arrival was low key, the diplomatic transport settling into a distant orbit while the delegation headed down by shuttle. There was no grand ceremony this time as the craft touched down, scattering powdery snow from the cold concrete landing pad, just a small cluster of dark uniformed people and a line of cars.

    "Good day, Ambassador Sheridan." An extremely sharply dressed officer snapped his heels together and bowed sharply. "I am Captain Gerhart Von Brulow, I will be your guide and liaison during your time here with us."

    "Glad to meet you, Captain, pretty brisk weather here!"

    "Ah, this is a good day for this time of year." Brulow peered upward. "You can see to Skye and Tamar from here, it allows the Archon to truthfully say she can watch her whole domain from her balcony."

    He snapped an arm out to point at the cars.

    "Shall we begin, Mister Sheridan? I have quarters prepared for you and your staff."

    "Why not, lead on please, Captain."

    The journey was swift and smooth, the vehicles taking the trip from the spaceport to the Triad, the trio of buildings representing the leadership of the Lyran Commonwealth. They had all been assigned pleasant quarters, plain but well appointed with staff on call.

    "You are scheduled to be presented at court tomorrow, Mister Sheridan." Brulow spoke pleasantly. "Afterwards, I believe, negotiations can begin in earnest. Both the Council and the Assembly are very keen to see what trade you may offer."

    "I had heard the Lyrans were an industrious people."

    "There is a strong embrace of business yes, many of our most influential persons are senior industrialists, or those who knew an opportunity when they saw it."

    That certainly reminded David of a lot of Senate meetings. While EarthGov had been keen to make contact with each major power and discover where they stood, the Lyrans had been given particular attention by the Senate, which actually meant their powerful corporate lobbyists. Somebody had scented money.

    "If there is anything you need, please contact us using the handset." Brulow pointed. "A small dinner will be prepared for your staff at seven. Are there any preferences?"

    "We all look forward to trying the local cuisine."

    "Excellent, I shall ask the chefs then to indulge themselves." Brulow bowed. "Until dinner then, Mister Sheridan."

    He departed with the same sharpness as he did everything, David unsure if it was military training or just the man's natural manner. The Davions had mentioned in their shared information that the Lyrans were on the more formal and stiff end of courtly matters and tended to take appearances seriously, though there was apparently a very wide variety among actual aristocrats and their backgrounds, which would make negotiations interesting.

    He had settled in a bit, unpacked his suitcases and was flicking through the entertainment channels looking for a rolling news show when a knock sounded at the old fashioned carved wooden door. It was still a while until his dinner appointment and nothing else was scheduled. That put him a little on edge, but this was also the heart of the Lyran government. If anywhere was secure, surely it would be here?

    He walked to the door, stood beside it rather than behind it, and opened it a little.

    "Mister Sheridan? Apologies." It was Brulow. "Do you have some time for an informal chat?"

    He severely doubted the Captain even understood what informal meant.

    "Of course."

    Brulow did not however move forward, instead he nodded to someone off to the side that David couldn't see. He opened the door fully to witness a well dressed couple standing just beyond waiting for his invitation.

    "Might I present Archon Katrina Steiner and Duke Arthur Luvon." Brulow once again inclined his head with the speed and precision of a guillotine.

    "Right." David raised his eyebrows. "Well."

    "Tomorrow will be a formal event, Mister Sheridan." Katrina said by way of explanation. "I would prefer we spoke in private first, to better understand one another."

    "I can understand that." David stepped aside. "Make yourself at home."

    Both entered while Brulow disappeared to attend to his duties, closing the door behind them.

    "Your staff left a well stocked drinks cabinet." David suggested. "I know I could use one."

    "I know this is a little irregular." Katrina settled on one of the very comfortable chairs, her husband grabbing some glasses from the drinks cabinet. "But I want to know more about the people I am going to potentially work with, ask honest questions, and hopefully receive honest answers."

    "Schnapps?" Arthur began filling glasses and made sure everyone was provided for.

    "Thanks." David tried the drink, he was no expert, but it was likely as pricey as everything else in this room. "Well, Archon, I'm definitely open to some frank discussion."

    "Call me Katrina today, we can be formal tomorrow."

    "Then David is good for me." He relaxed a little. "Do you meet all the ambassadors like this?"

    "No, only the ones I think I can have a productive chat with. This would be useless with a Marik, but perhaps one of the Davions would work." She shrugged. "For now though, David, let's focus on you."

    "Ask away."

    "What is your true goal here?" Katrina cut straight to the point.

    "To open diplomatic relations, get some trade going, and sign a non-aggression treaty." He returned just as cleanly. "Our goal is not to take sides in any ongoing conflicts. We want to figure out who everyone is, solidify our position on the periphery, and hopefully gain some money and resources."

    "Why visit every single power? Why not just the ones who can meet your requirements?"

    "We don't want to be accused of playing favorites. If we go all in with, say, your government, we might make enemies of your enemies. That doesn't suit us."

    "Reasonable enough." Katrina nodded. "But it is unusual for a Periphery state to be so proactive. Normally nations mind their business, guard their own worlds, and little else. Few seek to engage in affairs of state with distant powers."

    "I suppose we're a talkative bunch." David admitted. "We've learned that being very clear with your intentions can prevent disaster. It is very important to us to ensure there are no misunderstandings."

    "Again, understandable." Katrina nodded. "Provided, of course, you aren't causing yourself more problems. Some might say your best act would be to simply remain unnoticed."

    "Perhaps, but the risks of making enemies are balanced by the benefits of finding allies."

    "Then let me tell you my position." Katrina shifted gears. "You have warships and are offering Agricultural technology. We won't refuse the trade, but we would very much like to go further. I don't know exactly what your industrial base looks like, but there are clues. The ship you arrived in is very unusual, it suggests that you had, or still do have, some sort of large scale ship production. This interests me."

    "Interests you how?"

    "If you have the ability to build jump capable ships, this is of particular value to us." Katrina laid out. "As a fairly small periphery power you likely don't need many jump ships, but we do, therefore if you can build them, I will make sure there are contracts for every ship you can produce."

    "That could run to a lot of money."

    "I expect it will, I also expect expanding our jump ship capacity will be worth every penny."

    "I can certainly raise the question as part of any second wave of trade talks we may wish to engage in."

    "I promise, there will be more talks." Katrina smiled a little. "I sense a definite opportunity. You are far too confident for a minor periphery power. It's not just the warships, you have the attitude of a great house, someone used to standing among equals. It is very curious, Mister Sheridan, and I don't think it is accident or bravado."

    "Is that why we're having a secret meeting?" Sheridan nudged.

    "Private, not secret." Katrina winked back. "And yes, we likely won't speak much tomorrow. You will be besieged by all of our nobility wanting to sell you everything you could dream of in return for access to all the things they imagine you have. The current rumour is a full set of Star League era manufacturing tools. Any truth to it?"

    "Sadly no, but we might be able to find something similar if my leaders agree."

    David put his glass down.

    "There is something extra, not on the list."

    "You have my attention."

    "Point to point secure interstellar communication. Something not tied to the HPG network."

    Katrina shared a glance with her husband, both keeping a blank expression.

    "Please go on, Mr. Sheridan."

    It's called a tachyon relay, you'll need some satellites every dozen lightyears or so to boost the signal, but it is basically real time face to face communication across stellar distance. No outside parties, secure, and yours if you want it."

    "As simple as that?"

    "Yes. It's not free, of course, we expect payment, but yes, as simple as that."

    "Why?"

    "In part, so we can speak to you from our territory, but also so you can speak clearly to those important to you. Including your neighbors."

    "You have offered them this technology?"

    "We have. I am sure you can see the value of it from a military and diplomatic point of view. Speaking face to face with the other house lords at any given moment could help make the galaxy a more stable place for us all."

    "That does certainly have value." Katrina allowed. "But I am sure Comstar would be most upset by this offer."

    "They never need to know."

    "If you offered this to Draconis, they know." She said simply. "They know and I do not think they will take kindly to their monopoly being challenged."

    "They are welcome to file a complaint, but this won't affect their civilian traffic. Their revenue won't change much."

    "For Comstar, it's not the money, it's the control." Katrina related carefully. "Don't underestimate them, I have heard many stories, all unverifiable of course, but none of them good."

    She leaned back in her seat, her husband topping up her drink to her appreciation.

    "I haven't been in this role long and have already survived several assassination attempts. Most I think from my own relatives. It has made me cautious, forced me to carefully weigh up an individual before inviting them into the affairs of state."

    "I hope I made a good impression."

    "You are earnest, Mr. Sheridan, and you are no fool. You bring gifts and the promise of more in time, you open lines of communication between the great houses and yourselves. I find this very interesting, like you are setting yourselves up as a power broker?"

    "That isn't our intention, but we have learned the value of communication. Much of what we have heard is that the Inner Sphere is a violent place where war is always an attractive option. If we can play a small part in reducing that attraction, then it is worthwhile."

    "Can't trade with a nuked out planet." Arthur wisely observed. "And I suspect you may have a lot to trade. In contrast, we have much to offer, fine weapons, dropships, luxury goods you won't find equal to."

    "All very tempting, but also beyond the scope of this initial contact."

    "Then I think we can come to terms, Mister Sheridan." Katrina decided. "It is a good first step, we have no hostile intentions or any interest in the worlds of the far periphery. Indeed, Mister Sheridan, if I may be completely honest, your words about communication ring true. It has long been a hope of mine that we can try to improve relations and perhaps finally find some peace between our great houses. The current state of affairs has gone on for far too long. We must change before we are finally consumed."

    "I am glad we have that common ground, Archon."

    "I shall see you at court tomorrow then Mister Sheridan, for the first time of course." Katrina finally broke a true smile, unguarded and genuine. "We must play our game, and when it is done and the Dukes and Barons have had their fill of you, let us drink Schnapps again and speak of the future."
     
    Chapter 17
  • 17

    Geneva, Earth
    Capital of the Earth Alliance.


    "The situation on Tortuga is stable, casualties were light, and there have been no follow up attacks," General Denisov summarised for the benefit of the President. "Our personnel did their job, but the scale of the attack was unexpected. Our intel suggested gathering so many strike craft and deploying them such a distance would be difficult and noticeable, giving us some time to prepare."

    "The attack also evaded our early warning system," General Lefcourt mentioned, clearly quite concerned by that. "We have sensor probes covering the approach from the Inner Sphere, a few in each charted system. In theory, we should detect any ships jumping in and recharging and be able to formulate a response, but this force must have come in from a different direction."

    "We were unable to track their retreat either. We know they haven't taken a direct route back toward the Inner Sphere, because our sensor probes have nothing. They are still out here somewhere, and we are deploying assets to try and pin them down."

    "What type of assets, General?" Levy asked.

    "Two Oracle scout ships that were laying beacons and have prototype hybrid drives have been diverted, and we have two jumpships from our pirate haul, though their response times are much slower." The Senior Officer spoke. "We're laying more sensor probes to try and string a net out and catch these vessels the next time they jump."

    President Levy accepted the news for what it was. A raid was always going to be a possibility, be it pirates trying their luck or one of the local powers deciding to test and see if Earth Force was as capable as it appeared to be. With luck, that question should be decisively answered.

    "What about our losses?"

    "Twenty two dead or missing, a similar number injured," Denisov replied. "The Corvette Danube is crippled and needs a lot of work, our heavy cruisers Lexington and Bearn will need some repairs, but nothing fatal."

    "We also lost a full squadron of fighters," Lefcourt added to the report. "Fortunately, many of our pilots were able to eject. It could have been worse."

    "Our opponents brought plenty of nukes, Madam President," Denisov growled. "The fighter launched ones were fairly weak, but would still have caused massive damage to our growing presence on the planet. The ship launched weapons were much larger and were a significant threat."

    "This was at least an effective test of our interceptor systems against a large saturation attack." Lefcourt offered a positive note. "But it would seem that we are going to have to be ready to handle further raids."

    "To that end, Madam President, I want to take some ships out from our homeworld defence fleets and reassign them for colonial defence," Denisov requested. "A full squadron of six cruisers and twenty four escort ships per planet, with rapid reaction units on standby. We should also deploy our Dionysus space stations as quickly as possible to provide a strong fighter wing and heavily armed backstop to our defence fleets, and I want to divert the next batch of defence satellites."

    "That's a lot of forces, General." Levy considered. "Can we afford to divert those resources?"

    "We've been heavily focused on Earth and Mars, our great fear being that the Minbari will find a way to follow us. But it has been more than a year and a half, and there has been no sign of pursuit. I believe, Madam President, the time is right to shift back to a more peacetime posture and to look to a real expansion of our new colonies here."

    "The Colonial Office has been focused on restoring existing infrastructure, improving living conditions, that sort of thing." Lefcourt checked his notes. "But these are habitable worlds and there is increasing demand to begin full expansion beyond our Cooperland operations."

    "Tortuga and New Haiti are likely to become our front door, especially regarding trade once we are secure enough to open up fully to our neighbours," Denisov continued. "I would strongly recommend we invest now in their future, especially as it seems we will be staying here for the foreseeable future."

    "Then I'll leave military necessity to your staff, General." Levy accepted. "Mr Chapel, anything on the attackers?"

    "I can tell you they aren't pirates." The head of the EIA responded. "They also probably aren't from Draconis, our estimate is he'll wait until he has benefitted from our trade terms before he starts testing our defences."

    "What about Davion?"

    "Always a possibility, but we expect an attack by the Suns to be better coordinated."

    "Our analysis shows the enemy pilots were disciplined and had a high level of training, but little real experience," Lefcourt weighed in. "Their formations and ability to carry through their attacks were impressive, but their actual tactics and target selection showed they'd never fought a real enemy."

    "A veteran unit would have attacked in waves, they would have identified the light ships as the primary target and tried to disable them first, leaving the cruisers vulnerable," Denisov clarified for the President. "Instead they attacked all targets simultaneously, that shows they have good coordination and discipline, but it was the wrong tactic. Looks good on paper, but a little experience would tell them different."

    "That would logically rule out most of the big powers. Our current guess is a mercenary unit or one of the other Periphery States testing us." Chapel stated. "As to who hired them, if they were mercenaries? Could be anyone, but our suspicion is leaning toward Comstar."

    "The communications agency?"

    "If they think we're infringing on their territory and powerbase, it is feasible. So far though, no hard evidence. My people would like to begin investigating more closely."

    "Do we have any positive news?" The President asked.

    "As a matter of fact yes." Chapel nodded. "The initial batch of raw materials arrived from the Davions. One of the minerals we asked for in small amounts was Diridium."

    "I don't think I know anything about it?"

    "By itself, it's fairly useless, but it also happens to be a byproduct created in the same process that creates Quantium ores." Chapel led the President to the obvious conclusion. "Our negotiators didn't want to ask about Quantium directly, no need to tip our hand so soon, but if they have Diridium, they almost certainly have Quantium deposits."

    "This could be a massive step, Madam President." Denisov made sure it was clear. "None of the local powers have any idea what Quantium really is. We can expect any deposits to be completely untapped. This could potentially fuel our fleet expansion and hopefully let us put gates over every colony."

    "The Explorer Division wants us to refit some survey ships with hybrid drives so they can get out there and take a look. If it goes well, they want to negotiate expanded mining rights with the Davions." Lefcourt listed. "From what we've heard, the Suns are pretty happy with the trades so far and have indicated a desire to expand."

    "The drives are still new and most are slated for installation on our new Destroyers, but I would agree there is value in diverting some for this task," Denisov allowed grudgingly. "We're also going to want some long range ore barges and freighters to actually move the stuff. At this point, it seems inevitable we will have to open up drive production to civilian markets."

    "The Senate has been pushing for this since we confirmed the possibility of trading partners instead of enemies." Levy scoffed. "Even with this raid, I can't see how we can keep ourselves totally locked away, especially if we are stuck here."

    "Our industry is crying out to return to peace time standards, to investigate and exploit these new opportunities. We can set up some restrictions, but as we start mixing populations on Tortuga and beyond, people are going to talk." Chapel shrugged. "We might as well get ahead of it now, get some trade goods settled and start making an impact. As powerful as our military is, perhaps our best weapon is going to be what we can make and sell."



    Cooperland Colony
    Earth Alliance


    "I'm fine, seriously, there's no need to be so worried."

    Sheridan smiled and shrugged his shoulders, the gesture having zero effect on Anna as she remained seated beside him in the hospital. He was here for a few check ups, as was usual after an exchange of nuclear weaponry, to ensure he hadn't absorbed too much radiation.

    "Someone fired nuclear missiles at you," she said firmly, absolutely unwavering in her commitment to how serious this was. "Nuclear missiles, John."

    "I know, I happen to be an expert on those myself," he gently reminded. "I feel fine!"

    "Angela, tell him."

    Anna had anticipated this level of stubborness, and as such, had brought reinforcements to back her up.

    "You could be dead tomorrow." The scientist chugged a massive cup of coffee. "Probably not, but hey, better safe than sorry, right?"

    "She's a physicist, she knows this stuff." Anna wasn't yielding, though Sheridan was less convinced.

    "Do they sell coffee in cups that big?" He latched on.

    "What, no, this is my own cup." Ginelli grinned massively wide. "I buy five normal drinks and pretend they are for friends, because if I say they are all for me, then I get comm calls to my mom. After that, just mix them all in when they can't see me."

    "Smartest person on the planet." Sheridan approved. "Will you tell my fiance that those nukes were too small and the Lexington too insulated to matter."

    "He has a point," Ginelli admitted.

    "I don't like people shooting nukes at my husband to be."

    "Good!" Sheridan laughed. "I don't like it either, but honestly I'm fine. It's just routine."

    Anna continued pouting, but began to release her grip on the situation a little. The waiting room was otherwise empty. None of the crew had been admitted to hospital or wheeled away by concerned doctors and hooked up to a battery of beeping machines.

    "The Minbari are gone, these new powers aren't supposed to even have warships. This should be a perfect place for us, and yet here we go again with people trying to kill us." Anna exhaled. "For what? What this time?"

    "I don't know, I guess to a lot of people we are a threat to their power," Sheridan guessed. "That's reason to take a shot."

    "When we figure it out, we should go show them who they are dealing with." Anna spoke darkly, suddenly cold in her expression. "Show them we can do a lot more to them than they can do to us."

    "Working on it." Ginelli slurped more coffee. "You should see what we are doing to those mechs we captured. He he he. Boom."

    "This galaxy is full of savages, people who drop nukes at the first chance they get." Anna exhaled heavily. "My team has spent months digging through the old capital, there was no warning before it got hit, no chance to evacuate or surrender. Someone just showed up, nuked the entire region, then left."

    "Any idea who?"

    "Could have been anyone, it was over a century ago." Anna shook her head. "They didn't leave anything beside bones and radiation."

    That gave Sheridan perhaps a little more insight into her sudden protectiveness. She probably knew more than anyone else here about the history of this region of space, the violence and mass destruction. Working among the bones of those killed in a surprise nuclear strike and then hearing about an attempt to do the same thing a mere week ago was probably very unsettling.

    "We can handle it." He grasped her hand reassuringly. "We have the fleet, and we do have real allies, I think. People we can work with."

    "How sure are you about that?" Anna fixed him with surprising intensity. "How sure are you that these governments can be trusted?"

    "As many as anywhere else. I mean, did you ever really think we trusted the Centauri or Narn? But we worked with them."

    "After we showed them not to take us for weak fools."

    "Taking this a little personally?" Ginelli chipped in.

    "They fired nukes at my husband." Anna snipped back. "Eventual husband. It is personal."

    "And we gave them a bloody nose. They can't send another attack like that and they don't have real warships." Sheridan reminded. "We have it managed."

    "I don't really care about the Centauri, because they are Centauri, but these are humans. Human tyrants ruling over the masses. Maybe we should do something about that?"

    "I don't think we can."

    "No, we can." Anna returned simply. "We just need leaders who'll handle it."

    A knock at the door interrupted them, a bearded man in Earth Force blues appearing at the door to the waiting room.

    "Sorry, I can come back if you're busy?"

    "No, it's fine." Anna took a cleansing breath. "Can I help you?"

    "I'm here for your husband actually. Stay seated Captain, this won't be long."

    "Not quite my husband yet, he does find a way to keep dodging the date." She gave him a sly look. "But he won't escape for much longer."

    "Sounds like your fate is sealed." The man chuckled. "I'm General William Hague, by the way. I command the new Expeditionary Force."

    "Honoured to meet you General, your raid on the Minbari supply lines was a work of art." Sheridan stiffened, he was off duty but still felt compelled to stand to attention. "Probably bought us six months."

    "At the cost of two dozen ships and crews, a heavy price to pay," Hague reflected, solemn for a moment. "But this is about the future, Captain. How are you feeling?"

    "Poked, prodded, and then besieged."

    "I know a lot of men who'd kill to be in your position," Hague remarked, noting the tight grip Anna had on Sheridan's hand. "Nice to have people looking out for you."

    "I'm moral support." Ginelli raised a hand. "Also, do you know if the Joint Chiefs will let me back on Venus to finish my work on..."

    "I don't think so, Dr Ginelli," Hague apologised. "But I hear you've done well with the mechs?"

    "He he he. Boom." She chuckled to herself. "I suppose Venus can wait."

    "So what can I help you with, General?" Sheridan broached the question. "Do you need a personal debrief on the engagement?"

    "No, no, your report was perfectly good. In fact, I'm here because command said you were currently free and available for a new assignment."

    "The Lexington will need some repairs, so I suppose I have some time, sir."

    "The Lexington is being assigned to permanent patrol duty, which is where she should be." Hague spoke simply. "She's a first generation cruiser, Captain. She's worn out and only in service because we need every hull. Commander Carroll will be promoted to command her."

    "With all due respect, sir, she's my command."

    "And as a Captain you understand that sometimes you need to make changes, to put your personnel where they can do the most good. Pair the right man with the right appointment. Correct?"

    "Well sir, sometimes."

    "Good. Like I said I command the new Expeditionary Force, five brand new Omega class Destroyers, the first batch of production models. I'm short one Captain, I would very much like that posting to be you."

    "You're offering me an Omega?" Sheridan had to pause a minute. "It's a hell of a step up, but I don't like leaving my crew in the lurch."

    "If you refuse, I'll have to cancel Commander Carroll's promotion."

    "Now that's below the belt," Sheridan tutted.

    "I need the best, Captain. Frankly there aren't many Captains out there as resourceful and determined as you are."

    He looked over to Anna, his wife to be keeping hold of his hand.

    "It's not an Explorer ship, that was my real goal."

    "We can look at that once we're sure our home is safe." Anna supported. "The General is right, we should put our best people in our best ships."

    "Give me a couple of tours, Captain, and I'll guarantee you a posting of your choice." Hague promised. "Explorer ship included."

    He looked again at Anna, she was obviously conflicted but ultimately gave the nod.

    "Alright General, I'm in."

    "Excellent, Captain, excellent." Hague relaxed, his whole manner opening up. "Take your time here, have a few days, and Monday morning come see me at the spaceport. Zero Nine Hundred, Gate One. Your new command will be here by then."

    "An Omega class destroyer." Sheridan mulled it over. "I'll be ready, General."

    "Very good Captain, the Agamemnon will be waiting."



    Later that day
    Fort Dayan


    Garibaldi had spent the last hour watching the exercises, the distant vehicles running back and forth over the meadows and low hills of the training range, slowly trying to figure out how to get the most from their units. He sat on the grass, enjoying a mixture of snacks and some light reading in the mild sunlit climate, just being comfortable. He had no worries right now, no duties, he could just watch the world go by.

    Part of that world was a squadron of shiny new Siegfried tanks, the Army's initial response to the threat of battlemech warfare, hastily thrown together from a mismatch of sources. It was a hefty vehicle with the body of a high gravity excavator, paired with a twin naval artillery gun turret, and encased in as much heavy armour as possible. The sturdy chassis at least allowed it to carry that amount of weight, and a beefy set of engines gave it a surprisingly decent turn of speed, but it was still very much a stopgap.

    One of the things Garibaldi noted as he watched them go through their paces was the recoil on the 175mm cannons. The huge naval guns apparently had no issues when mounted on twenty thousand ton warships, but on a ninety five ton tracked hull, the effect was pretty obvious. The vehicles bucked and rocked quite noticeably when firing full powered shots, their auto targeting having to work double time to try and keep the guns pointing at the target as the suspension of the tank dipped and bounced. Firing ahead knocked a few miles per hour off the speed, and swinging the turret out to the side and firing both guns at once almost lifted the nearside of the vehicle off the ground.

    Still, this is why Garibaldi's unit existed, to help develop these new weapons and figure out how to use them. While the tanks sorted out their fire controls, a couple of mechs waited patiently to put the new vehicles through their paces and give them something real to shoot at.

    "Hey, Mister Garibaldi!"

    He looked away from the testing range to see a frantically waving and maniacally grinning friend heading his way.

    "What's up, Doc?" Garibaldi had been waiting most of his life to be able to say that.

    "All good, getting back to work."

    "You in a rush?" He patted the grass beside him. "Come on, I got snacks."

    "Coffee too?"

    He held up a sealed flask. "Still hot."

    "I think I have a few minutes." She dropped down and appreciated the view before cracking the flask and drinking directly from it.

    "Doesn't that burn?"

    "You get used to it." She took one of the offered sandwiches. "Oh, Siegfried. Don't fire uphill on a slope of more than twenty degrees or it'll flip."

    "Those guns really do kick hard."

    "That's a standard engineer's solution for you, if your big gun doesn't work, apply a bigger gun." Ginelli shrugged. "A scientist applies a better gun, which actually I need your help with."

    "Right now?"

    "Meh, it can wait until after snacks."

    They watched the vehicles get to work, the tanks loading low powered paint rounds to engage the two light mechs the team possessed. It was fascinating to see the slow process of trial and error, the tanks working out new tactics and manoeuvres in real time before his eyes. At long range, the mechs had little issue dodging the incoming fire, and at close range the tanks had a devilish time swinging their guns around to match the speed of the mechs, but at medium ranges, they landed some solid hits.

    "That's Ferro." He pointed to the Locust. "Gunship pilot, look how she sidesteps."

    Ginelli watched with interest as the light mech evaded a pair of point rounds, her guns wiggling to indicate that if it was real, she'd have yet another kill to her name. Both mechs were extremely light on their feet, the second under the control of their resident Starfury transfer, with both pilots experts in evasive action. Tagging them was extremely difficult, but if in theory the tank gunners could hit these two, they could hit anything.

    The big vehicles began to compensate for their flaws with new tactics, a gaggle of army officers watching from a closer vantage point, huddling together after every exchange of fire, and then calling up their tank crews to suggest a new approach. At first, the tanks had engaged the nearest target one on one, but as they began to learn, they started ganging up on one mech at a time. One tank would lay down a barrage of rapid, but innacurate fire, that forced a mech to evade right into the sights of its partner. Slowly, they refined their teamwork, while the two mech pilots took note and formulated their own response, a steady battle of capabilities pushing both sides to innovate.

    "You make these sandwiches yourself?"

    "Yeah, any good, Doc?"

    "Think if I paid you there'd be more?"

    Garibaldi broke a massive smile. "For you Doc, on the house. Come on, let's go get this job done, huh?"

    The pair put the training grounds behind them and headed towards the hangars containing the rest of the unit. There was always some activity going on, some maintenance or checks on the machines accompanied by hammering, welding, or somebody swearing very loudly.

    "How's Humpty?" Garibaldi spotted the Urbanmech just inside the doorway, the body of the vehicle splattered with mud and sand, as was custom.

    "Still not working without a pilot. However this control system is set up, I can't figure it out." Ginelli shook her head. "I can't even just strip it out and start again because then nothing works. And if I copy it, I just copy all the problems too. Absolutely frustrating."

    As stumpy as the mech looked, it was still well armed and tough. The scientific team had painted its name on the forward armour, along with a cartoon egg representing its fairy tale namesake. The egg was cracked of course and had human features, but unlike the children's tale, this egg was wearing sunglasses, chomping on a cigar, and brandished a cluster of massive guns in each hand.

    "You'll figure it out Doc." Garibaldi was confident. "You just need more coffee."

    "Maybe an artificial brain wired directly into the system. Oh, or a monkey brain, that might work."

    "On second thoughts, less coffee."

    They approached the second mech bay, this one containing the Warhammer jealously guarded by the scientists. General Fraser had definitely wanted to play around with that second heavy mech, but had been so far refused. It was a rare privilege to pilot the heavily modified machine.

    "We're taking Sir Isaac." She pointed to the machine. "Better get your hat, Mister Garibaldi, I'll see you up there."

    He took a detour to pick up his neuro helmet from the adjacent locker room, returning to climb the stairs of the mech bay up to the level of the cockpit access. Sir Isaac was, of course, a fitting name for the Warhammer, the science team paying tribute to one of their old inspirations. The vehicle also carried nose art, a surprisingly crisp picture of the old physicist with curly wig and seventeenth century regalia straight out of a portrait gallery. What set it apart from most art, though, was the fact Isaac Newton was in the process of ripping open his ornate coat to reveal an extraordinarily muscled torso with his formulas tattooed on it. Somebody was clearly a big fan.

    "Come on Mister Garibaldi, hop in, there's science to be done!"

    He did as told, climbing on to the top of the heavy mech and dropping down into the cockpit, settling into the seat, and cramming the helmet on his head.

    "Do I need my cooling suit?"

    "Nah, we won't be out here long, just a weapons test." Ginelli climbed on and sat down beside the open hatch. "No need to close up, keep it open, enjoy the sun."

    "Fair enough Doc." He began the start up sequence. "You okay up there?"

    "Just walk smooth and don't bounce too much."

    The Warhammer whirred to life, cockpit screens flickering and scrolling as they booted up. Below his feet, he felt the shudder of the gyros synching and the slight heat of the fusion reactor. Everyone had said it was his imagination, that there was plenty of shielding around the reactor, but he definitely felt that thing fire up.

    "Okay Doc, here we go."

    The heavy mech took a step forward, Garibaldi adjusting slightly as he settled in. Most of his time was spent in the Marauder, also a pretty big machine, but with reverse jointed legs, meaning it handled a little differently. He felt the Warhammer was a bit more stiff, but ultimately there wasn't much difference. He took the path out of his bay, followed the signals from the ground crew, then headed out of the hangar toward their own testing range.

    "This is a lot higher up than Humpty." Ginelli looked around. "The tanks are still shooting, we'll take the sandpit instead."

    He turned the machine a little and strolled at a leisurely pace toward their spot, a smaller gunnery range filled with craters and burnt vegetation to the point it looked like a black desert, hence the sandpit. It was a pleasant journey with the hatch open, Ginelli dangling one leg in the cockpit as she leaned her head back and relished the breeze.

    "Taking position." Garibaldi checked the sensor network. "No friendlies or civilians on the scopes."

    "Okay, good." The Scientist dragged a data pad from one of the large pockets of her white coat. "We're going to test the rotary pulse cannons."

    "The what?" Garibaldi looked up at her. "You put rotary pulse cannons on this thing?"

    "Two of them." She beamed. "I wanted the new gatling cannons they are making for the Thunderbolt fighter, but they are too unstable. Or was I too unstable? One or the other."

    "Is this safe?"

    "Safe?" She giggled. "It's science."

    "Yeah but..."

    "It's perfectly zogging safe."

    "Zogging?"

    "Long story, weird dream, let's shoot guns."

    That he could get behind. "Alright, weapons charged and hot, range is clear, all set."

    "Give me a three second burst at four hundred metres."

    Garibaldi did as instructed, the heavy arms of the Warhammer aligning on target as the computer zeroed onto a wooden board with the word hospital written on it. "Locked and firing."

    The sheer violence that one push of the trigger unleashed took him by surprise, the arm guns chugging out a rapid stream of particle pulses that vapourised the small target and turned much of the ground beside it into smoking holes.

    "He he he." Ginelli entered a few notes. "Five seconds this time, make it six hundred metres."

    "Where did you get these things?"

    "They were from the Strike Furies, the twin seat ones for anti ship work? I increased the rate of fire a little."

    "Why?"

    "Why?" She frowned as if it was obvious. "For science. Now waste that cardboard orphanage for me."

    Garibaldi did as told and spent the next few minutes firing at various targets in various sequences. It was actually pretty entertaining.

    "If you think these are good, wait until we get the real gatling guns." Ginelli added more notes. "Alright, one hundred metres sustained fire. Just hold the trigger until it redlines."

    He aligned the guns for close range duty and depressed the trigger, both pulse cannons shuddering the mech as they unloaded. He kept a close eye on the heat gauges, the needles steadily rising as the seconds ticked on, the cockpit becoming very noticeably warmer.

    "Doc?"

    "Keep blasting!"

    Those were the orders. The guns began to glow, the heat spiked, and finally the safety systems cut in and shut down the weapons. It was a sauna in the cockpit and Garibaldi absolutely regretted not having his cooling suit.

    "Come up here, get some cool air." Ginelli patted the top of the machine. "That's all for today."

    It was definitely much nicer outside, though the air did smell of burning grass and wood.

    "I was impressed that you hit every school bus."

    "You know these are the targets we're supposed to aim around." Garibaldi pointed out. "They run hostile targets across here and we kill them, not the orphanage."

    "Oh, that actually makes sense," she suddenly realised. "I just thought it was a Minbari kiddie pool."

    "I guess it might have been." Garibaldi shrugged, still feeling the heat radiating out of the cockpit. "So, is it true you're the one who got us out here?"

    "Kind of, it was a team effort," she answered, catching a breeze again. "But it was my calculations, so I took one for the team."

    "It ain't such a bad thing."

    "No?" She tilted her head.

    "Nah, better than getting roasted by a bunch of genocidal aliens." Garibaldi grinned. "Did anyone actually thank you for saving all our asses?"

    "I can't remember, I just remember all the pointing and shouting."

    "Thank you for saving all our asses." Garibaldi held out his hand, Ginelli grasping it over the open cockpit. "Good job, Doc."

    They shook hands, the scientist just smiling to herself and looking aside.

    "You don't mind I dropped us into space middle ages, but with robots?"

    "Actually I'd call that a plus. These things are awesome."

    "Aren't they!" She turned back, brimming with enthusiasm. "Do you want to know about my secret project? A mech with battleship cannons!"

    "Going to be a while, until this thing is cool enough to walk us home." Garibaldi shrugged. "Hit it, Doc, what you got?"

    "Okay, so, it's three hundred tons and has twenty inch railguns on its back, probably nuclear capable, and then..."

    Garibaldi half listened and half just enjoyed the moment. This was a better place.
     
    Chapter18
  • Sian
    Capital World of the Capellan Confederation
    October 3008


    "This one is going to be the challenge." David Sheridan bounced in his seat as the shuttle rocked through the sky. "Everything we've been told about House Liao is that they are schemers, ruthless and merciless. As cruel as Kurita, but without the veneer of politeness."

    "I don't think we'll make much progress." Nigel Morrison shook his head beside him. "Realistically, we might get some trade, but there's going to be no treaties worth the paper they're written on."

    "At least it gets us a chance to look at these people up close and personal, make our own assessment of them." Sheridan looked more positively on things. "Hopefully, Marik will be more open to trade, we just need to actually schedule an appointment."

    "Booking time with them was a nightmare. I was back and forth so often, I think we cost the Archon a small fortune in HPG bills."

    "We'll make it up to her, initial reports indicate there are probable Quantium deposits in Lyran space," Sheridan noted, recalling the list of minerals the EA was ready to trade for. "Someone is about to get spectacularly rich."

    The shuttle bumped a little more before entering a curved landing pattern, the white and blue craft cutting through the grey skies across rich green jungles. Their approach was standard, a small unit of fighters keeping an eye on them in the distance, a hint at the paranoia pervasive across the planet. Their space at the spaceport was fenced off to prevent any gawkers from seeing the visitors, their arrival receiving no fanfare or even official acknowledgement.

    "Angels and ministers of grace." Sheridan prepared himself as the shuttle powered down, the doorway and ramp extending to let them set food on the warm planet.

    "Welcome." A broad man with short cropped hair met them at the foot of the ramp. "We are glad you chose to visit us before the Mariks. I am Colonel Dubrov, and I will be your guide for the next few days."

    "Glad to be here, Colonel. I'm David Sheridan, representing the President of the Earth Alliance. This is Mr. Morrison, my aide, and Mr. Jiang Li, my advisor."

    Jiang Li was of course another carefully placed agent assigned on the behalf of the EIA. As Vic Chapel's best operative it was logical he would be deployed to what was expected to be the most deceptive meeting. He'd kept a low profile in the same way Tetsuro Hamato was now in the background of the diplomatic team, biding their time until the mission needed them.

    "We have some rooms for you in the Forbidden City. It is a great honor." Dubrov turned on his heel, clearly expecting them to follow. "You will not be allowed into the Celestial Palace itselfm of course, but Chancellor Liao has scheduled a personal meeting with you. He considers your presence here extremely auspicious."

    "Well, that's good to hear."

    "Especially as hostilities with the Federated Suns appear to be winding down over New Aragon," Dubrov added. "Perhaps if you have influence with Prince Davion, you can hasten a peaceful end to that battle?"

    "If both sides are open, I think my President would be willing to act as mediator."

    The journey to the Forbidden City was uneventful, the convoy passing through immense gates ceremonially guarded by immaculate heavy mechs staring down on the streams of visitors, workers, and mandarins going about their business. Sheridan observed that security was tight, uniformed police were a common sight with plain clothes agents likely just as pervasive. The architecture definitely had a Chinese flare, the classic pagodas clad in reds and golds standing around open squares, with the tops of trees visible within walled gardens. It was truly beautiful, with the Celestial Palace itself rising in the distance as the unquestioned masterpiece.

    Dubrov led them into the diplomatic quarters, Sheridan and his two assistants heading into a very ornate common room covered in paintings of Liao glory.

    "Please help yourselves to food, gentlemen, I shall return in a few hours when the Chancellor is ready to speak to you."

    "Thank you for your hospitality, Colonel." Sheridan gave a slight bow. "I will be sure to note your helpfulness."

    Rather pleased with that, Dubrov departed, closing the doors behind him. With the coast clear, Li checked his watch which not only told him the time, but also gave him warning of any hidden micro power sources associated with listening devices. It didn't tell him where they were or how many, just that someone was listening.

    "The President should just be sitting down to dinner." He said casually, the pre-arranged code to let the others know they could not speak freely. He sat down at the table in the center of the room, a selection of food laid upon it. "Been months since I had real dumplings, want to try some?"

    "You think we can?" Morrison was radiating suspicion.

    "I doubt they'd poison us before they interrogate us." Sheridan applied a little logic. "Better get some food down your neck, might be a while before the meeting."



    It was a full six hours before Colonel Dubrov returned, the delay probably a negotiating tactic. He gave a jovial bow and took them toward one of the various meeting rooms. It was attached to the palace, but still strictly speaking a separate structure, the very clear message that the visitors were not worthy of actually entering the Celestial Palace not particularly subtle.

    Sheridan took mental notes but filed it all away, none of it affecting his confidence. Negotiating with House Refa had not been dissimilar, the constant posturing and denigration a weak tactic, and usually played by those lacking other strengths. They were led into a large meeting room that was actually incredibly plain, a simple wooden desk and bland chairs, making the whole thing look like a middle management office.

    "Wait here, please," Dubrov requested. "The Chancellor will be along in his own time."

    That time was another hour, Maximilian Liao apparently content to take his time and largely unconcerned with the discomfort of others. When he did finally arrive, he made no comment on the delay, the door suddenly snapped open and there he was.

    "Chancellor." Sheridan and his aides stood and bowed. "My thanks for taking time out from your busy schedule to meet with us."

    "It will be a brief meeting, I have no need to posture before the crowd like Davion and Steiner." Liao spoke frankly and without refinement, powerful and educated as he undoubtedly was, he also had little time for pleasantries. "Candace! Romano! Hurry!"

    Behind him two further persons arrived, the daughters of the Chancellor moving to take position one on either side. As Liao sat, so too did his children, Candace a fair skinned and raven haired beauty, Romano harder looking and less courtly. They all sat down together, Liao waving for Sheridan to do the same.

    "You are a mystery to me." Liao began, very closely watching his opposite number. "You arrive from nowhere, you seek audiences with the great rulers of the Inner Sphere as if you mattered, and you offer them the scraps from your table as gifts. Seeds, water purification plants, goats. All the while, you keep warships at your disposal ready to strike on a whim."

    "Our fleet is for the defense of our holdings. You may note, Lord Liao, that we have not sent them into battle unless attacked first."

    "By the pirates at Tortuga?" Liao considered. "How much threat were they to you? A nation with a handful of true warships. Was it necessary to conquer their planets? Remove them from the face of the galaxy as you did?"

    "We take threats seriously."

    "And when a threat is determined, you use the forces at your disposal to destroy them completely, forces including several warships that any of we great lords would have difficulty in countering." Liao observed. "When prompted to act, you move decisively. You are quite prepared to use force. Did you negotiate with the pirates, offer them terms?"

    "What terms are there for pirates?" Sheridan asked. "Would you have made a deal with criminals?"

    "It would depend on the circumstances." Liao answered honestly. "If there is advantage in any particular action, I will seek it. That you apparently did not is illuminating."

    Maximilian Liao waved his hand, breaking the line of thought.

    "This is not disapproval or scorn, the strong decide, the weak abide. Such is the law of survival. The pirates at Tortuga finally learned that. If anything, I gain some small respect for you. While you may wish to talk, you are not against direct action if it suits you. That is no weakness, and as such I am content to speak with you."

    "The meeting is very much appreciated, Lord Liao." Sheridan made sure to emphasize. "We also have something you else you may have an interest in."

    "Your new communication equipment?" Maximilian smiled, catching the tiniest flicker from Sheridan. "Yes, it is not so secret as you think, not anymore. Of course, if the other lords have accepted this, then so too shall I. If nothing else, it is a useful capability to keep."

    "Well, I suppose that saves me going through the sales pitch." Sheridan shrugged his shoulders. "Have you had a chance to look over our requests in return?"

    "Requests. I have." Liao nodded. "Minerals, metals, nothing of great value, but all useful for industry."

    "You ask for a lot." Romano interjected from beside her father. "What will you use it for?"

    "Colony expansion. Tortuga was in a poor condition, it is likely the other pirate worlds will need reconstruction too once we secure them."

    "Many of these materials can also be turned into weapons."

    "A strong defense is also necessary for colonial expansion," Sheridan said simply. "One can never tell when an attack may arrive."

    "This is true." Maximillian nodded. "I am glad you are not naïve enough to think that just traveling around, being nice, and trying to sell a few trinkets to us would be enough to earn our trust."

    "I would not insult your intelligence, Lord Liao."

    "Good." Maximilian maintained his distant attitude, playing his cards close. "Then I will speak plainly. You concern me, more than the other lords, apparently. Perhaps they were easier to buy off or just more foolish, but unlike them, I see you are not content in your current situation."

    "I do not follow, my lord?"

    "You are taking planets, Mr. Sheridan, expanding your territory and holdings. You seek rare materials from each of the powers you visit, rare materials, but not finished products. We could have sold you guns, engines, refined metal sheets that would have been more efficient. More expensive too, of course, but for this technology, you could have asked for almost anything. You ask for raw materials so that we will never know what you are building. Until perhaps you turn your weapons on us."

    "I assure you that is not our intention."

    "Assurances require trust, I do not trust you." Liao said simply. "I require more than just your word. If you want this amount of rare materials, you almost certainly have massive stocks of more common metals, that speaks of significant industry. How many worlds do you have?"

    "Some, but not many. We are not as large as the Inner Sphere, we are just a periphery power."

    "But one with an apparently untouched industrial base. That grants you some significant value. Trade with you may be very advantageous, but not if all you offer are seeds and water. You have far more, and that is what I seek."

    Liao stood, everyone else doing the same.

    "We will sign treaties, we will initiate trade, but not for agriculture. If you want a non aggression treaty, you must offer me more. Weapons, aerospace fighters, mechs, and warships."

    "That is significantly more than my government is ready to offer."

    "The strong decide, the weak abide. Those are my terms, we will speak again tomorrow."

    Maximilian Liao stood and swept out of the plain room, his daughters close behind, the doors sliding shut behind him with a dramatic clang.

    "He didn't seem really into negotiations, did he?" Jiang creased his brow.

    "He didn't." Sheridan agreed. "He's definitely playing hardball, but we can take or leave his terms too. If all we take home is a solid reading of this government, I'd call that a win."

    "He has no faith in us at all." Morrison echoed. "He sees us as potential threats, his goal is to minimize that or to call our bluff. He doesn't care about trade, he just wants to keep us out of his games."

    "He didn't mention New Aragon." Sheridan noted. "Maybe sees it as a sign of weakness. Last I heard, the Davions were winning."

    "They'd almost retaken the whole planet." Jiang nodded. "Any negotiation would be more about safe passage for his remaining troops. I'm sure he's not going to lead with that when he needs to look strong for us."

    "His surface thoughts were fixated on exploiting this to improve his standing with the other great houses. He doesn't care much for us, he just wants us written off as a threat to his grand schemes." Morrison assessed. "He won't abide by any treaty, he will probably trade in the end, but he won't trust us and we shouldn't trust him."

    "I don't think we expected a huge breakthrough here, but it had to be done." Sheridan resigned himself to the situation. "Let's get the trade done and head for the Mariks, by now they might have decided on a room to meet us in."

    "One other thing, his daughters, both were a lot more attentive to us than the Chancellor himself." Morrison added. "Mr. Li, I think you need to prepare yourself. One of them plans to visit you later tonight."

    "Why?"

    "Well, let me just say I'm lucky I didn't start blushing at some of her ideas." The telepath grinned. "Good luck, Mr. Li."



    Jiang Li spent the next few hours trying to figure out exactly how this was going to work. He was absolutely prepared for this, seduction as a technique to gain information and advantage was as old as time, and something the EIA itself was not above using. He had dealt with similar situations before, he knew to keep his wits and turn a scenario to his advantage, but the question was how? Allow the seduction and try flip it back to gain information for himself, or decline and try to preserve the neutrality of the negotiations.

    On the one hand, the negotiations were mostly just for show at this point. Sheridan wasn't going to promise military equipment to a power with a reputation like the Capellans, so either Liao was making a grand demand to begin with and would negotiate down to something more sensible, or they were all going away at the end of the week with nothing much. A daughter of Maximilian would certainly have insight into his tactics, but he severely doubted someone born and raised in such a household was a starry eyed romantic, or a lustful fool.

    There was a slim chance his expected visitor was just bored in the palace and fancied an evening of entertainment, but he didn't assess that as likely. As young as the daughters seemed, they both played the games of state and he doubted he was the first target to enjoy such charms. This was going to be a battle, a duel of wits and temptation between two skilled opponents.

    The tap at his door arrived, gentle but insistent. He calmed himself, made ready to fake surprise, and decided to try and play everything by instinct. He unlocked the door and parted it, raising his eyebrows in a good facsimile of surprise.

    "Oh? Mistress Liao."

    "Candace. There is no ceremony here," she spoke softly, clad in a green silk dress. Her hair was loose and while it was in a casual style, it was very carefully arrayed to accentuate her face. Which admittedly was unrivalled. "May we speak? I feel that today did not go well. Perhaps there is a chance to salvage tomorrow?"

    "Of course, please." Jiang opened to door wider for her. "Make yourself at home. In your home."

    It wasn't hard to put on a veneer of awkwardness, his face flushing a little red as she bumped him accidentally on purpose with her hip as she walked by. This was the strategy then, start strong, send in a concerned daughter to suggest a better deal she would convince her father to take, and everyone does well with no loss of face.

    He closed the door behind her.

    "Lock it." She instructed over her shoulder. "I would prefer no interruptions."

    He did as told, his face still showing red which was no doubt exactly what Candace expected, but his heart rate remained under control, his wits on maximum alert. He was in the heart of a spider's web and was acutely aware of that. He would play the game, get a good result for the team, and hopefully keep his head.

    "Can I fetch you something from the cabinet?" He gave his voice a little bit of a nervous break. "Your people were very hospitable, there's plenty of food and drink or..."

    "I'm fine, thank you for your attentions." Candace draped herself over a couch, stretching out her legs.

    "Mind if I drink?" He coughed a little. "I think I could use one."

    She smiled widely, keeping her eyes on him, so far all as expected.

    "I hope my father was not too intimidating today. He is a great man, but so often he is unjustly maligned. So many call him a monster, he has started acting very harshly with outsiders."

    "I can understand being defensive, surrounding yourself with a wall. Especially a man with such tremendous responsibility." Jiang sat opposite his guest. "We expect things like this. Nobody takes it personally."

    "I do, but he is my father." Candace sighed somewhat theatrically. "I worry for him, that sometimes his need to display his strength might blind him to other paths forward."

    "I understand." Jiang accepted. "But why tell me this?"

    "You were there today, you saw it," she answered. "And I think approaching your leader, Mr Sheridan, might be seen as a scheme to influence him. That is not my intention, I'm not that sort of person."

    She sighed again.

    "Everyone has their expectations of me, what can I do?"

    Jiang gave her a sympathetic look, leaning in toward her. "It must be so difficult living under so much scrutiny."

    Perhaps it was, but that hadn't stopped Candace from becoming a talented mechwarrior, expert schemer, clever administrator, and very probably a ruthless killer. Both House Davion and Steiner had advised extreme caution if confronted by either daughter, their own agencies calculating Candace was the most dangerous of the two.

    "No one knows I'm here, it would be a scandal if I were seen in private with a visitor from outside." She cast her eyes down. "But this negotiation is important. I know that neutrality is important to you, that you have sought it from each house. You want peace, you don't want to make enemies or allies, and I commend that."

    "Thank you, we just want to know where we stand and try to treat everyone equally."

    "That is my worry! If we treat you poorly, you may decide to ally with our enemies! That would be a great tragedy! I could not stand seeing that happen, not when I could do something to help."

    She raised her dark eyes to his.

    "Absolutely anything to help."

    "Well I, I errr... I am moved by your passion for this." Jiang stuttered, he was going to have to play this carefully, he wasn't going to fall for her game today. He would play it off as a conflict of desire and duty, that would be believable, then figure out what to do when she inevitably returned tomorrow night.

    "I want what is best for my people." She suddenly and melodramatically reached out and grabbed his hand. "As I know you do."

    "Yes, yes I do, I must always put my people first. Whatever my other thoughts." He swallowed, it wasn't taking much acting. "I have to follow my duty, remain professional."

    "Ah, yes, professional." She looked aside. "I understand Mr. Li."

    "Jiang, my name is Jiang."

    "A strong name." She smiled wide at the apparent increase in trust. "For a strong man. It has been a while since I have met someone like you, it can be a lonely life."

    She stood from the chair and suddenly leaned in, smothering him with the scent of her perfume, the touch of her hair, the very soft touch of her lips on his ear. She exhaled softly, holding nothing back in this attempt.

    "They are listening to every word." She spoke so quietly he could barely hear her, but the words electrified his brain. What was this game? "They are coming for you."

    "Who...?"

    "Shut your fucking mouth, you idiot." The voice never raised beyond a seductive whisper. "I'm going to invite you to my room, follow me. If you don't, you will be fucked. And not like they think I'm offering."

    She stood back upright, adjusting her dress and smiling.

    "If you like the sound of that, come with me, Jiang."

    This wasn't the plan. Was she trying a high risk tactic? Did she suspect he was an agent? It wouldn't be a huge leap for them to guess and create a scenario to cater for him. Or maybe she was telling the truth, in which case, what did she gain by warning him? This could be an elaborate trap, but why bother? They already had the team powerless and at their mercy, why go to all this trouble?

    She unlocked the door, peering over her shoulder. "Are you ready?"

    "Yes." Jiang made his choice. "Lead the way."

    Candace entered the hallway and moved gracefully but at a reasonable pace along the gallery, various rooms on each side. Jiang kept up with her, the pair reaching a room at the end of the hall, which she unlocked and brought him into. He waited until the door was shut and locked to raise his guard.

    "What's going on?"

    "A war of influence. We can speak freely here, I have enough friends in the Maskirovka to guarantee this room is private."

    Jiang subtly checked his watch, the detector confirming no listening devices.

    "My sister has convinced my father you are a threat, that periphery states are worthless and negotiating as equals is an insult to House Liao." Candace spoke fast and concisely, the seductive aura completely gone. "Your people are about to be dragged out of their rooms and imprisoned as hostages to force terms from your leaders."

    "That's insane, we are here under diplomatic protections!"

    "Romano doesn't give a shit about that, she sees this as an easy win to earn our father's favor over me. So predictable. If she wasn't such a child, she might actually be dangerous."

    "We have to get David Sheridan out, he's the most senior of us."

    "No, he's the obvious target. If he is gone, they keep looking, if you are gone, they won't care so much."

    "Is that why you came to me tonight?"

    "Yes, but for two other reasons also." Candace opened up a wardrobe, slipping off her dress and putting on some less slinky clothing. "You're military intelligence. Don't deny it, of course you are. You can look after yourself, and you will be an asset to me."

    "And reason number two?"

    She threw him an army uniform, then cracked a smile.

    "You are actually pretty fuckable. Now get that on, we're leaving for a safe house."




    David Sheridan was dragged from his room with barely sufficient time to throw on some clothes. He was hauled through the diplomatic building as noise filled the night, the crashes of doors being kicked in, orders barked, sometimes the thump of fists or rifle butts against flesh. Sheridan's team were all being rounded up, the shouts and screams impossible to identify. Someone was resisting, probably his two warriors, but there wasn't going to be much they could do against the entire planet.

    He was brought to another basic concrete looking room with no windows and just a simple table. Two men waited for him, one was Colonel Dubrov, the other Maximilian Liao.

    "Mister Sheridan." Liao gestured for his troopers to shove the diplomat into the seat behind the table. "I have decided to continue our talks."

    "I have nothing to say." Sheridan bottled his anger, but it wasn't going to last long. "If you want to talk, you will release my people, give them safe passage to orbit, and then we talk."

    "I could do that, but I don't see why. I have Death Commandos securing your ship as we speak, you forgot to bring a decent number of marines."

    "We didn't expect to need them."

    "Perhaps you have been on the periphery too long." Liao exhaled as if facing a child. "Trust is a cancer, Mr Sheridan. It rots whatever it touches and leaves you weak, vulnerable, and eventually dead. Cut it out and you achieve so much more."

    "Like this? If you think this improves your negotiating position, I assure you, it doesn't. The Alliance does not negotiate with hostage takers."

    "Of course they will, everyone does in the end."

    Liao leaned in and whispered something to Dubrov, who nodded and quickly left the room.

    "I will offer you this sign of respect, Mr Sheridan. As leader of your group, I will guarantee your safety. You will be under arrest, but will have a room in the diplomatic quarter. I am sure your leaders will wish to speak with you."

    "And the rest of my team?"

    "They will be fed and watered." Liao promised. "If they behave, they will live."

    "That isn't good enough." Sheridan stated flatly.

    "I don't care for your opinion." Liao dismissed. "This is how things are. Hostages are taken, negotiations are made, hostages are released. You are not special, Mr. Sheridan."

    "So this is a negotiation strategy?"

    "Nothing more, nothing less." Liao nodded. "The strong decide, the weak abide. Your leaders are not in a strong position. We will have trade, one favorable to me, of course, and you will be released. You are important on your world, yes? Then they will negotiate for you."

    "They might do more than send negotiators."

    "Yes, I expect some posturing, perhaps an ill advised rescue attempt. But this is all a learning experience. Your leaders wanted to know more about how the Inner Sphere works? You are welcome."

    Dubrov returned carrying a box in his hands. It instantly sent a shiver down Sheridan's spine.

    "This is routine for many negotiations, but some of your people resisted. Regrettably, one was killed," Liao stated, Dubrov bringing the box for Sheridan to inspect. "Observe, Mr. Sheridan, that while I do favor keeping you alive and comfortable, I will kill you if necessary for my goals."

    He had to look, it was his duty and his responsibility. He had led these people here, whatever happened to them lay upon his shoulders.

    "This was Mr. Morrison?" Liao asked. "Your bodyguard?"

    "My friend."

    "He was a remarkable warrior. He killed eight of my personal guards before one managed to approach from behind and kill him. I have no idea how he killed so many. He had no weapons, and I expect you won't tell me."

    Morrison was only a P5 telepath, normal for commercial and diplomatic work. A Psi Cop might actually have laid waste to the entire detachment of commandos sent against them, but not Nigel Morrison. He did what he could.

    "I don't think you're going to like our response," Sheridan said simply.

    "Warships?" Liao guessed. "Good, I'm expecting it. Sian is the best defended world in my Confederation. It still has a functional planetary defense system specifically designed to destroy warships. If your fleet arrives in orbit, it will not leave."

    "We do not negotiate," Sheridan said firmly.

    "You will, no one cares about a few commoner lives, but they'll negotiate for a man of power like you. We will both profit from this. I am not so cruel as to deny your nation the rare minerals and metals you request. But I will have weapons from you on favorable terms."

    Liao gathered himself up and nodded to his guards. Sheridan was once again picked up and manhandled away.

    "I have left some history books in your new quarters, Mr. Sheridan. Perhaps they will help educate you to the truth of the Inner Sphere. The Great Lords decide what we take and what we leave. This is the way of things, now and forever."
     
    Chapter 19
  • Geneva, Earth
    Capital of the Earth Alliance.


    Elizabeth Levy had forgotten what it had been like to be woken at the small hours, a grim faced aide informing her of some disaster or crisis. There had been a time when it seemed to happen on a daily basis, a fleet lost, an outpost destroyed, another Minbari success. For almost two years now, that hadn't happened, things had been normal, or at least as normal as they were ever going to be. The life of even a peacetime President was never easy, but compared to the start of her term, this had been a dream.

    Today had reminded her of the darker times, the news demanding. She dressed hastily and made her way over to her office, where her familiar inner circle of experts had gathered, notably absent one David Sheridan. The diplomatic effort had certainly carried risk, though pirates had been the main concern, duplicity by one of the hosts had been considered.

    Levy had sent them anyway, the risks balanced by the benefits. The strategy seemed to be working. The EA, if not exactly welcomed by all, had at least made some positive contacts and was beginning to open up to trade and day to day diplomacy. It was all starting to feel normal again. She had even scheduled the delayed presidential elections for early next year. And now this had happened and it had reminded her that things could always fall apart.

    "And that is the full situation," Vic Chapel rounded up. "We have direct commlinks set up with Prince Davion and Archon Steiner, they should be connecting in a few minutes. Coordinator Kurita didn't respond."

    "Give me some options, General." Levy rubbed her eyes.

    "We only have five combat ships capable of making the journey to Sian, our initial Omega class destroyers." General Denisov was speaking flatly. Like Levy, he had started to believe there might actually be peace for a time. "We could deploy our Explorer ships, they also have long range FTL drives, but their combat abilities are limited."

    "Will it be enough for a rescue mission?"

    "It would be extremely dangerous," he related honestly. "We have little intelligence on our target, but defenses are expected be heavy with hostile fighters, dropships, and ground forces on alert ready to intercept us."

    "The Agamemnon and Apollo are both equipped with docking collars able to transport dropships. They were added in the final phases of their construction." General Lefcourt added. "We have enough old pirate dropships to transport a division of troops, but we lack the practical experience to deploy them effectively."

    "We are experimenting with dropship operations, but we are a long way from employing them practically." Denisov nodded. "If our first real attempt at a mass dropship landing is on the capital world of a major power, in the face of prepared defenses against elite mech regiments, I guarantee nobody we send down is coming back."

    "Alright, so a full scale attack isn't practical, what about a more limited mission?"

    "If we want a rescue, that is probably our only option, a regiment or two of Rangers deployed from the destroyers," Denisov laid out. "We can get them down by assault shuttle and back up, but they will be totally reliant on the warships for cover. No fighters, no tanks, no artillery. Just naval support."

    "Our warships can do the job, but the weapons we use are designed to cause catastrophic damage to mile long spacecraft," Lefcourt cautioned. "Even at low power settings, they hit hard, and in an urban environment, damage to the city will mount quickly."

    "We might inflict a lot of civilian casualties?" Levy asked.

    "We might," Chapel answered. "But the immediate concern is we don't know exactly where our people are being held. We could end up bombing the hostages we are supposed to be rescuing."

    "The Rangers can handle any hostile infantry, and with naval support can probably stop a mech or armored vehicle attack, but we should expect very heavy casualties," Denisov made sure it was very clear. "We also do not know the strength of the enemy orbital defenses, but should expect them to be heavy. We may not be able to hold orbit long enough to finish the search and rescue."

    "Do we have any other options?"

    "I assume negotiating is out?" Lefcourt asked.

    "Completely." Levy nodded. "If we do, this will just happen again, and again, and again."

    "We can attempt to take our own hostages," Chapel raised. "Their homeworld may be well defended, but other locations aren't. We have enough former pirate ships to sneak into a Capellan system, grab some nobles or key individuals, and then arrange a swap."

    "Sounds a little illegal, Vic."

    "Well, Madam President, Chancellor Liao is acting like a medieval king where hostage taking was just another negotiating tactic. If he won't abide by our rules, maybe we should play by his," the EIA chief recommended. "I can have teams on the move by the end of the day, but its going to take a long while to get out there."

    "Six weeks or so," Denisov specified. "Maybe a little faster if we ride the engines, but as these are new ships with new technology, I'd suggest caution."

    "We can launch an attack against Capellan infrastructure, a brief strategic campaign," Lefcourt raised. "Hit their logistics, manufacturing, communications."

    "Communications are mostly under a neutral third party, COMSTAR, and while they are looking very suspicious, they are not an enemy combatant," Chapel noted. "But striking economic targets may be valid."

    "Alternately, we can throw our full support behind the Federated Suns and their war on the Capellan border," Denisov suggested. "Orbital supremacy plus some special forces raids would make life much easier for Prince Davion's armies."

    "Speaking of Madam President, it's about time," Chapel reminded. "Shall I hook the screens up?"

    "Please." Levy nodded. "Let's see what our partners have to say."

    The room of senior officials shifted their attention to the far wall of the presidential office, the wooden panel adorned with the Earth Alliance seal rising into the roof to reveal a large monitor that flickered into life. The screen was split left and right. On one side, First Prince Ian Davion was seen settling down and leaning over what was obviously a portable communication console. Behind him, several green and tan uniformed personnel crossed back and forth, the Prince presumably broadcasting from a field command post. Archon Katrina Steiner occupied the other side of the screen, sitting alone in a darkened room with no other obvious presences.

    "First Prince, Archon, thank you sincerely for this meeting." President Levy began her address. "I am glad all three of us can speak like this. I only regret our first conference is in such stark circumstances."

    "My thoughts too, President Levy," Ian Davion responded, voice a little raised as activity bustled around him. "The Capellan actions are unconscionable."

    "I agree." Katrina Steiner spoke too. "But it is good to put a face and a voice to your name, President Levy."

    "Thank you for relaying the initial demands from Chancellor Liao to us, First Prince. I trust you are also fully aware Archon?"

    "I am."

    "I also invited Coordinator Kurita to this conference, but he declined, the affairs of minor powers are not his concern."

    "That sounds like him." Davion nodded. "Have you considered your response, Madam President?"

    "We are finalizing that now." Levy glanced around the room. "We have no intention of bowing to these demands, but before I make a choice on what action to take, I wanted to speak to you both. My government lacks a lot of understanding still, it would be foolish of me not to seek advice from those more knowledgeable."

    "A wise move, Madam President, and not an easy admission to make," Katrina recognized.

    "How many lords have ever asked for help from others?"

    "Few and far between," Ian agreed with his peer. "I am going to send you our dossier on Sian, I've asked my people to hand it over to your Ambassador on New Avalon. It's as up to date as we can make it and should give you an idea of enemy strengths and dispositions."

    "That will be tremendously helpful, First Prince, thank you."

    "Do you have a favored plan, Madam President?" Katrina asked.

    "We would prefer a rescue." Levy decided. "But we don't have the power to guarantee success. Our alternatives are to strike Capellan targets until it becomes too painful for them to keep our people."

    "Knowing Maximilian Liao, he might call your bluff and start executing hostages until you stop," Ian warned. "He doesn't see you as a peer and is well known for taking extreme actions."

    "Chancellor Liao doesn't care about the hardship of his people," Katrina echoed. "He'd sacrifice a billion lives to preserve his ego."

    "That is true." Ian easily agreed.

    "But there is more." Katrina warned. "You could destroy their infrastructure, perhaps nuke their worlds, kill their jumpships. It will send a message. Everyone will see what you can do and will fear you. But it is a fear that goes with hate. If you can do this to Liao, are we next? All will hate you and demand action. You will be besieged in your worlds, raided, despoiled, and one day there will be war. Perhaps you will win, perhaps not, but this fear and hate profits us nothing."

    "You might have some success in the end, but it will be a hollow victory. I don't think you will see your people again." Ian shook his head. "If you are open to the idea, I may have a solution."

    Davion leaned back and looked to his right, waving over someone in the distance before turning back to the screen.

    "The situation here on New Aragon is almost resolved, we'll have the planet by the end of the year." The First Prince announced. "Therefore I am prepared to detach some forces to support your mission."

    "Some forces, First Prince?"

    Davion leaned aside as his guest pulled up a chair beside him, a dark eyed bearded man she recognized from earlier briefings.

    "Colonel Wolf, Wolf's Dragoons, Madam President." He introduced himself. "I had the honor to fight alongside your army at Tortuga, and I briefly met David Sheridan on New Avalon."

    "I recognize your name and reputation, Colonel."

    "I am ready to detach Colonel Wolf to assist you." Ian offered with a smile. "They are excellent warriors and already have some insight into how your forces operate."

    "It should be easy enough for us to integrate into your command structure." Wolf confirmed. "If you are willing, I can deploy two full regiments to assist you."

    "We are launching a direct attack on the Capellan capital, Colonel." General Denisov made sure the point was clear. "The risks involved are extreme."

    "If you can get us in and get us out again, we'll be ready to take the job on." Wolf smiled coldly. "A raid on Sian would be considered impossible. If we can pull that off, we're going to be legends."

    "An elite mech force would probably be able to hold the line long enough for our Rangers to secure the hostages," Denisov reasoned. "It improves our chances considerably, but casualties are still going to be inevitable."

    "It's what they pay us for."

    "Very well then, if my Generals think it will improve our odds, I gladly accept your offer of help, First Prince." President Levy gave her approval. "You have the gratitude of the Alliance."

    "I humbly accept it." Ian gave a brief nod. "This favors my aims too, of course. A strike on Sian is a massive propaganda victory and will galvanize my forces for the next steps in this war. We both gain from this, Madam President, and it is something neither of us can do alone."

    "Diverting to New Aragon doesn't add much to the schedule, and we can carry the Dragoons on the Apollo and Agamemnon," Lefcourt calculated. "It's a sound plan."

    "I can assign General Fraser to act as liaison, coordinate between our troops and Colonel Wolf, formulate a plan based on the intel from the First Prince," Denisov reasoned. "There may be hidden problems as we progress, but I'd say, provisionally, this can work."

    "Can you be ready in about five weeks?" Lefcourt asked.

    "We can be ready in five days." Wolf answered proudly. "We'll be ready to go when you are."

    "Then it is settled." Ian slapped his hands together and grinned widely. "Together, we'll give the Capellans something to really cry about."

    "I would like to raise something for the future." Katrina now stepped in. "Chancellor Liao has breached one of the unspoken rules of diplomacy and warfare and he will reap the consequences, but only because you are willing to take direct action. If you had not, nobody else would be compelled to punish him either."

    "How do you mean, Archon?"

    "There is no hard legal framework, no legitimate rules which carry punishment agreed upon by each nation. At least not anymore," Katrina outlined. "These are savage times, times where the conventions of war are mere suggestions and someone like Maximilian Liao, who gives no care for appearances, violate these principles at will. But it was not always so."

    "You're talking about the Ares Conventions, Archon?" Ian recognized.

    "I am." She confirmed. "Before the collapse of the Star League, in more civilized times, warfare was guided by the Ares Conventions. These recognized that battle was inevitable, but sought to minimize the destruction and enforce honor upon combatants. They did not stop war, but they did create a code of good conduct which all abided by, even House Liao."

    "Mostly," Ian chipped in. "At least when both sides had signed the papers."

    "Are you suggesting something similar?" President Levy wondered.

    "I'm suggesting restoring the Ares Conventions as they were." Katrina made it clear. "Your arrival, Madam President, intentional or not, has greatly upset the status quo of the Inner Sphere, and if you do send a fleet of warships to Sian, it will cause even greater upset. It is vital we counter this, and I believe the Ares Conventions will do so."

    Levy could see the Archon's concerns, perhaps they were well founded.

    "I'd like to look through these conventions, Archon Steiner."

    "I can include a copy for your Ambassador." Ian offered. "The Archon is correct, the scrapping of the conventions was arguably a major step toward the cataclysm of the Succession Wars."

    "I firmly believe that if the Ares Convention was still active, none of us would be where we are now." Katrina showed a little passion. "And countless billions of lives would have been saved."

    "It might be difficult to bring them back today." Ian injected a little reality. "Restricting the scale of warfare robs us of our ability to achieve decisive large scale victories. It makes the chances of securing the title of First Lord even more unlikely."

    "With respect, First Prince, as we are now there can never be decisive large scale victories. Our ability to wage such wars no longer exists. We will simply formalize what is already de facto reality."

    "I am open to talks, but I have my doubts the others will agree." Ian shook his head. "But I commend your vision, Archon, and your desire to preserve lives."

    "I would prefer lasting peace, but for now First Prince, Madam President, we should try to build something positive from this crisis."

    "I'll be happy to read them through, and I of course support any form of diplomatic resolution to a problem." Levy agreed. "Unfortunately, at least for now, I can't see a peaceful answer to this crisis."

    "I will try and speak with the Chancellor," Katrina offered. "Perhaps he will listen to a fellow House Lord."

    "And if he doesn't, I'll be ready with a more direct response," Ian promised.

    "Then I think we have a plan. Thank you both for this meeting, I feel we've made real progress." President Levy relaxed a little. "I hope we can speak again soon"

    Levy ended her transmission, the two great lords keeping their own channels open for a little while longer.

    "The Ares Conventions?" Ian Davion smiled. "What are you playing at Archon?"

    "Exactly what I said, enforcing structure on a chaotic situation, First Prince," Katrina returned simply. "What do you think happens next, when a squadron of warships arrives at Sian, bombs the planet from orbit, supports a raid on the Forbidden City itself?"

    "I think it sends a message," Ian considered. "That things are escalating, that even the home planet of a great house is vulnerable to direct attack and there is nothing they can do to stop it."

    "Exactly, the second this happens, we are going to see the return of the Age of Warships. Everyone will immediately demand a fleet of their own, a strong planetary defense over every world, unlimited production of high yield nuclear weapons. Can you imagine, First Prince?"

    "I can, and any lord that refuses will lose power and be replaced by a panicked and desperate people."

    "Precisely, we will have no choice but to restart warship production, and what does that entail?" Katrina asked. "Every spare penny we have, every great mind, the maximum resources of each great house. We slow down or halt development virtually everywhere else in order to build the infrastructure for warships, greatly increasing the hardships of our people. We will virtually bankrupt ourselves to build a handful of vessels that die in the first twenty minutes of combat, as we all suddenly remember why warships went extinct in the first place."

    "I can see your point," Ian allowed. "It's an arms race that cripples us and leads to nothing."

    "Or worse we succeed, and the next war is a return to the era of the First Succession war, a war between strategic weapons. After all, we have paid so much for these devices at the cost of every other option. Why not use them?" Katrina tightened her jaw. "This was the logic that nearly doomed us once before, and I know we have not learned from it."

    "You really think the Ares Conventions is the answer?"

    "We are in the new age of the warship, it is inevitable once Sian is attacked. We have to try and limit that, to make sure warships do not return as the dominant weapon of war. The Conventions will help us avoid that crippling arms race and prevent a panic. It will also be a great step forward, the first truly joint decision made by the Inner Sphere in centuries."

    "Will the others go for it? Kurita, Marik, Liao?"

    "Liao will, about five minutes after he sees what this new age could look like." Katrina guessed. "The others will have to see the logic. If we do not restrict warships, we will all be ruled by the power with the biggest fleet. And it isn't any of the house lords."

    "So this is also to neutralize the threat of the Earth Alliance, to take away their largest advantage," Davion recognized.

    "Not neutralize, just manage," she clarified. "The old conventions appointed the Terran Hegemony as neutral arbiter over any disputes, a position of particular influence. The Hegemony is gone and while COMSTAR wishes to replace it, they have no power of enforcement."

    "But Levy does." Ian understood. "So you tempt them to sign by giving them the old Hegemony role, make them the arbiters of the treaty, the ones to judge disputes. A place of neutral power and influence, but not a threat."

    "Ambassador Sheridan said the Alliance wanted good relations, but also to remain as neutral as possible. This gives them exactly what they asked for, strong diplomatic credentials and direct contact with every leader."

    "And gives us what we need by removing the threat of getting nuked from orbit by an unstoppable horde of battleships." Ian understood. "My compliments, Archon, you will use the threat of warships to sneak in all the other good things the Conventions had, and by using a well known historical document the houses already signed once before, you make it very hard for anyone to refuse."

    "It is a solution that was waiting for a problem, and this I think counts," Katrina confirmed. "This is our best chance to start the process of stopping the destruction of our era and building a better reality. Will you help, First Prince?"

    "As much as I can, Archon."



    Sian,Capital of
    the Capellan Confederation.


    The safe house had the look of an average thrown together dwelling, poured concrete and small windows cluttered with more possessions than could really fit. Local police had checked it over a few times, the owner a fierce woman in her seventies who glared daggers at the police each time they barged in. Fortunately, their efforts were haphazard and not good enough to overcome the Maskirovka built hidden room nestled in the basement, where Jiang had spent the last few days. It was actually quite nice as hidden spaces went, better than the one he had spent a month in on a Narn colony a few years ago, and the food provided by the home owner was exceptional.

    "Everyone who hides out here puts on weight. Old Mrs. Wanshi makes some damn fine bowls." Candace Liao descended the steps, removing the wrapped around scarf hiding her features. "Funny, because she is probably the best poisoner of her generation."

    Jiang paused halfway through a spoonful of broth, then shrugged and kept eating.

    "If this is my last meal, at least its a good one."

    Candace dragged over an old wooden chair and dropped herself in it. Even in disguise she was striking. Jiang kept his guard up at the thought. She had placed him here, kept the wolves from the door, but he was still hazy on her motivations. He had the story she had told him, but he doubted that was everything.

    "Is it safe for you to visit me?" Jiang asked. "Can you just vanish from the palace in such a tense time?"

    "I do as I please." Candace shrugged. "Nobody tries to stop me, fear of the name is enough."

    "Then I'll thank you again." Jiang remembered his gratitude. "But now I need to know what happens next."

    "That is a good question. I didn't have much of a plan when I got you out. You being here gives me options, but I don't see a path yet." Candace considered her situation carefully. "Ideally, I would like to reverse this situation and minimise future problems."

    "That's not going to be easy after taking hostages," Jiang intoned darkly. "And a lot worse if there have been fatalities."

    "There have been some." Candace reported reluctantly. "About twenty people, most on your ship in orbit."

    "And Ambassador Sheridan?"

    "Alive and comfortable, he's too valuable to be harmed. Whatever happens, his safety is guaranteed," Candace assured. "My father is reckless, but he knows he is playing a game. He is expecting your people to play it too."

    "He's going to be disappointed." Jiang slurped the last of the bowl down, setting him up for the rest of the day. "Do you really want to end this without more bloodshed?"

    "If possible."

    "I need to talk to my people."

    "How?"

    Jiang held up his hand showing her the communications link. "This will connect me to my ship if it is still in orbit."

    "It is, but it's dead. The Captain scrambled the command codes."

    "I can get them working again, but I need to know when it will be overhead."

    "I can find that out." Candace promised. "And then?"

    "I'll try get a signal to my people, we left a relay at every jump, I can bounce a signal through Tharkad."

    "Right, and I will speak to my father. He has days where he is reasonable, and days when he is not. If it is a good day, I can help. If that little shit Romano is not there."

    "I believe in you." Jiang said. Of course he didn't, this could easily just be a way to get him to unlock the computers on the transport. "I'll be ready to act when you are."

    That, at least, was true.




    "Ah, my dear daughter." Maximilian Liao grinned wide as Candace returned. Despite the words, there was no warmth to his voice, just expectation. "Successful trip?"

    "Well enough." She looked around the audience chamber. "Where's the poison imp?"

    "Your sister is observing the interrogations." Maximilian replied. "She could be there for hours."

    "Morbid." Candace sighed. "She watches how you behave and assumes it is the correct way, flaws and all. She doesn't learn to avoid your mistakes."

    "Good, mistakes are useful teaching elements." He nodded. "You both need to taste success and failure if one of you will succeed me."

    "And is this a mistake?"

    "Only if you gain no advantage from it." Liao answered. "It is possible this will harm us, but it is also probable we will gain. I do not expect them to just give us everything, certainly not warships, but in negotiations you start high and meet lower."

    "From what my new friend says, I don't think they understand that. They see this as a challenge."

    "If they want to deal with the Inner Sphere, they need to learn how the Inner Sphere works." Maximilian resolved. "Use your contact to make them understand, tell him I have softened my stance and I'm ready to negotiate."

    "What if it is too late?" Candace raised the question. "If they go immediately to war?"

    "Then we outlast them." Liao said. "I am sure the Davions and Mariks will snap at our borders, but they will never fully commit with Kurita and Steiner ready to pounce. We may lose a world or two, but we will take them back in good time."

    "This is a gamble, father."

    "As Chancellor, everything is a calculated risk, including having children." Maximilian smiled ever so thinly. "Even your own blood may one day hold a dagger to your throat."

    "My loyalty is absolute."

    "Perhaps." Maximilian remained neutral. "We need the command system on the transport ship unlocked, the Captain locked the system and then fought to the death. I had ordered him taken alive, such failure is unforgivable."

    "I think he'll do it. He doesn't trust me, but he values contacting his people. I recommend allowing him access," Candace suggested. "It's an effective line of communication. Perhaps I can even speak to one of his leaders in person."

    "Archon Steiner is also offering to facilitate communications, but it is more believable if it goes through you."

    "Of course, father."

    "Begin negotiations at the earliest opportunity." Maximilian approved. "You have my faith, my daughter."

    "I am honored father." Candace bowed, a cold smile crossing her face as her father walked away. "I won't fail you."
     
    Chapter 20
  • 20

    New Aragon
    A few weeks later


    "Nothing about this is going to be subtle." Jaime Wolf ran down the formation list for the tenth time, scrolling down the chunky data pad and putting a face to every name on it. "We're dropping two regiments, six full mech battalions, right down in the middle of the Forbidden City itself. We're going to be dropping hot, clearing a landing site, crushing some tourist attractions, and then holding a perimeter against some of the most well trained and fanatical warriors in the Inner Sphere."

    "Please, stop." Natasha Kerensky theatrically sighed. "I can only get so hot."

    "And then for our grand finale, we have to withdraw to dropships under fire and get back into orbit, while they go all out to destroy us and exact revenge."

    "Are we getting paid extra for this?" Joshua Wolf leaned in, peering over his brother's shoulder at the list of warriors. "We are mercs, this counts as danger money, right?"

    "I would pay them for a fight like this." Natasha prodded the younger brother. "Don't ruin it, this is going to be glorious."

    "I haven't decided if you're going yet." Jaime kept reading the list. "We're not finished here on New Aragon yet either."

    Natasha froze like ice.

    "Don't you fucking dare. Don't you wind me up like this, then only give me a bunch of broken up hussars to mop up!"

    "I'm not taking all three of us on this. Odds are good something will go wrong somewhere and I'm not losing the entire command staff," Jaime said firmly. "Plus we still have a job to do here. Despite Prince Ian's optimism, this battle isn't done yet. We have a contract to finish."

    "Okay, Josh, go mech up." Natasha ordered. "I'm going to have to beat you like the unwanted freeborn you are."

    "You'll be eating those words," Joshua fired himself up.

    "No, no trial by combat." Jaime stepped in. "We launch in a few hours, I'm not having one of our mechs get banged up. Even with simulated weapons you might trip or twist an ankle."

    "Trip?" Natasha's eyes widened. "Have you completely forgotten what I do?"

    "We'll decide this Terran style. Face each other." Jaime commanded. "Come on, now."

    "This isn't going to be what I think it is, is it?" Joshua slouched in disappointment.

    "Rock, paper, scissors. Go when ready."

    "This is a child's game." Natasha complained. "It won't take three minutes to humiliate your brother in a mech."

    "If you refuse, Josh wins by default."

    The two skilled warriors gave up arguing and instead glared at each other, neither shirking from each other's gaze. They held firm for a while, seeking an insight into the other, and then engaged.

    "Rock!" Joshua thrust his hand forward.

    "Hah! Paper!"

    "Oh for..." Joshua reeled away. "You always go scissors!"

    "Enjoy your mopping up operation while I go become a legend." A supremely happy Natasha rocked on her heels, grinning madly. "I'll bring you back a souvenir, a chunk of palace or something."

    She cantered in close, stood on her tiptoes and planted a tiny kiss on Joshua's forehead.

    "Loser."

    The two brothers watched her vanish into the collection of waiting mechs lined up for deployment, making a beeline for her own Marauder, the two brothers frowning.

    "Well, that's not normal," Jaime said simply. "You ever see her do that before?"

    "I didn't think Trueborn actually got happy." Joshua touched his forehead. "Is this some sort of pre-battle ritual we're not clique enough to understand?"

    "I don't know." Jaime started to smile. "Maybe she just likes you."

    "What, me? Nah, you heard her talking me down."

    "Yeah, but it's only you she teases like that." Jaime broke out in sudden laughter. "Oh wow, good luck on that one, brother!"

    "I don't get it, there's no way!"

    "When she gets back, she's going to shatter your pelvis. I'll put the doc on alert."

    "Don't be an idiot, there's no way someone like her would... you know... care."

    "They might have distilled her out of a giant can, but she's still a woman," Jaime observed. "And to be honest, you could use one in your life."

    "Yeah, maybe." Joshua frowned. "But that one?"

    "You won't find better." Jaime shrugged. "Besides, I don't know if Trueborns do long term. How many reach old age? Perhaps she's just living for the moment."

    "I'm not sure I want to be a moment."

    "Trust me Josh, some people would give their lives for that kind of a moment. Just see what happens."

    A loud crack overhead made them both look up, the vapor rings of a pair of ships decelerating through the atmosphere clear white in the sky overhead.

    "That'll be our ride." Jaime followed their descent. "Come on, might as well say hello to the people you won't be fighting beside."

    "Yeah, just rub it in." Joshua grunted. "She always goes scissors."

    The brothers climbed into a jeep and put it in gear, racing away in a cloud of red dust. The forward operating base was immense, a wide river plain flattened by Davion engineers and turned into a makeshift space port and command center. It was mostly dominated by rows of tall dropships loading or unloading in the jungle sun, with a pair of runway strips servicing fighters and various transport aircraft. Toward the center was the tent city housing the various personnel and facilities needed to keep things working, and right in the middle, a tall communications dish marking the command post.

    "So I have to ask," Joshua raised the question. "When do we report this?"

    "When we have hard data." Jaime gave his usual reply. "This will give us a good assessment of Capellan defenses, we can check out the strength of their planetary defense systems and how well trained their very best units are."

    "I wasn't talking about the Capellans."

    "I know," Jaime allowed. "They've offered us a ride on one of their ships, and we're going to see them in action for real. Not swatting some rag tag pirates, but a real stand up fight. That should give us what we need."

    "I'm thinking that maybe when our contract is done with the Davions, we should see if the Alliance wants us."

    "I was thinking about detaching a battalion to do some training, a composite unit." Jaime shared. "I doubt these Alliance types need five full regiments, but a single battalion? Maybe. It wouldn't divert much from our overall mission and it would give us a bit more insight."

    They weaved between the tents and groups of AFFS troopers going about their business, eventually bouncing to a halt near the command tent, a small cluster of other vehicles already parked up, revealing a gathering of officers.

    "Straighten your jacket." Jaime checked his own uniform as he stepped out of the jeep. "Better look professional."

    They entered the large tent, the interior scattered with tables and chairs for the assorted leaders, along with various screens and consoles trailing thick cables to a generator. There were several uniformed people milling around and while it all seemed rather informal, that was always going to be relative with royalty present.

    "Perfect timing!" First Prince Ian Davion spotted the brothers and called out to them, waving them toward his particular group. The two mercenaries made a direct line to take up the invitation, the Prince's group inevitably containing the most senior personnel.

    "First Prince." Jaime nodded.

    "You've met General Fraser before, if I recall?"

    "I have." Wolf smiled a greeting. "Good to see you back for the fight."

    "Happy to see you well, Colonel." Fraser returned the greeting. "You remember Captain Sheridan?"

    "I do, very well." Wolf extended a hand. "Is the Lexington one of our escorts?"

    "Not quite, Colonel." Sheridan shook the hand. "But I will be providing your transportation."

    "I don't think you've met General Hague." Ian finished the round of introductions, singling out a bearded man in naval blue. "He will be the overall mission commander."

    "Heard a lot of good things, Colonel." Hague continued the hand shaking. "Can't wait to see what a mech assault really looks like."

    "You definitely came to the right people, General."

    "Alright, now we're done with that," Ian set to business. "How are we looking, Colonel?"

    "I'll be ready to go late afternoon." Jaime answered. "I have my units finalized, all we're doing now is stripping down the dropships for the mission."

    "Stripping them down how?" Hague asked with interest.

    "Anything unnecessary, so spare parts, ammunition, various secondary supplies as we won't be there long enough to use them." He explained. "Plus we're emptying a lot of the fuel tanks, we don't need to burn for days. Idea is to get rid of any weight we don't need so we can get down on the deck and more importantly back into space as quickly as possible."

    "What do you need to bring along?" Sheridan asked.

    "I have six mech battalions and as many aerospace fighters as I can muster. So I'll be bringing six Overlords and a couple of fighter carriers."

    "We can handle that." Hague promised. "You can dock on our destroyers, they'll be a lot more survivable than any jump ship."

    "I'll be counting on it, General."

    "Our overall plan is simple." General Hague took his turn. "I have five destroyers, two will carry the dropships and provide close escort for the landing. The remaining ships will screen the landing force and engage and Capellan counter attack."

    "On the ground, we're deploying two Ranger Battalions, they're trained for these kind of combat drops against high value targets," General Fraser took over. "They'll go first to spot any strongpoints in the landing zone, which the destroyers will eliminate. Then it's your show, Colonel Wolf."

    "We have landing zones marked for a hot drop, even if the Capellans are expecting us, we're going to hit them so hard they won't be able to respond until we are established." The Colonel worked through his plan. "I'll mount an active defense, Colonel Ellman and Beta Regiment will stay close to the landing zone and form a defensive perimeter. I'll be putting the dropships down right in the Celestial Parade square and that will be our focal point."

    "Our assault shuttles will be a bit more spread out." Hague told his side. "But we'll keep them airborne. Is that not possible with your dropships?"

    "Not for a hasty deployment and reloading." Jaime shook his head. "We're going to need to leave fast, too fast to wait for our ships to return from a safe spot. It is a huge risk leaving our dropships on the ground. I'm going to need your warships to cover them."

    "We'll be there." Sheridan promised. "Naval bombardment will be limited to areas outside the city. Until we know exactly where the hostages are, we can't risk hitting them with a badly placed shot."

    "That will include mustering areas for enemy forces." Ian noted. "That will slow them down."

    "It will, but the Capellans are going to throw everything at us and casualties won't hold them back," Wolf warned somberly. "I estimate we can give you forty minutes, an hour at absolute maximum before we're pushed back."

    "Forty minutes." Ian mulled the figure over. "That's not long to search the entire Forbidden City."

    "We are deploying some assets to help with that," Hague answered. "But it will be very close."

    "What kind of assets?"

    "I'm sorry, First Prince, even though this is a joint mission, some of our capabilities must remain classified," Hague apologized.

    "Hopefully this mission will be a step toward our nations being more open and ready to share secrets," Ian accepted. "I understand, General."

    "I'm confident we can hang in orbit for an hour, our new destroyers are very capable warships," Hague considered. "But we will be under constant missile and fighter attacks. It is also likely Chancellor Liao has concentrated mobile defenses from elsewhere in anticipation of this strike."

    "He probably wants the glory of bringing down a warship." Wolf guessed. "Let's all keep disappointing him."

    "We'll jump in and out at the pirate point. It's a little risky to jump twice so soon, but less risky than running the gauntlet of every fighter the Capellans own," Hague reasoned. "We'll return here, drop you off, then make our way back to Cooperland."

    "Can you calculate the jump that accurately?" Joshua Wolf asked pointedly.

    "We can. I expect there to be resistance, but they won't be ready for what we're bringing."

    "While you attack Sian, I've already deployed forces to hit some border targets," Ian announced. "That should tie up their reserves and prevent them from shifting more forces back toward the capital. I also managed to get word to Captain General Marik, he's going to be hitting targets of opportunity too."

    "I think we have a plan then," General Hague concluded. "Once again, First Prince, my President expresses her gratitude."

    "Without your ships, I would never have this chance to inflict a raid that will live in legend forever," Ian grinned widely. "If you have the capacity, I'd like to send a unit too, a full Mech battalion from my own command. Just so I can say we had feet on the ground as part of this victory."

    "We can manage another few dropships, the extra firepower will be welcome," Hague nodded.

    "Then I believe it is settled." Ian gave his approval. "All we need is a name."

    "We're suggesting Operation Helios," Hague recommended.

    "The ancient god of the sun," Ian recognized.

    "In honor of the Federated Suns, and the Joint Chiefs love naming things for Greek Mythology," Hague smiled. "Suits us both."

    "Helios it is," Ian gave his approval. "My staff have prepared a quick dinner before you head to your ships. It isn't much, but I think it's good for us all to dine together."

    "We'll be honored, First Prince."

    "Good, my brother Hanse will no doubt have several suggestions to share when I bring him up to date on this. Prepare yourselves."



    Sian Capital
    Capellan Confederation.


    "I had the computer grind out the schedule." Candace Liao handed over a sheet of paper to Jiang Li in the shadows of the safe house basement. "The red circle is the time your ship is overhead. You'll have about six minutes until it dips below the horizon again."

    "Thank you, this helps a lot." Jiang memorized the sequence, then handed the paper back to her. "That's all I need."

    "That first time is only a few minutes from now. Will you try today?"

    "Of course, I might not get another chance," Jiang confirmed. "This will be a good test, but I'm going to need more from you."

    "More?" Candace retreated a little. "How much more?"

    "I need to know where the hostages are, their precise location, so I can send it to my people."

    "That's easier said than done." She grimaced. "They are moved often to keep them confused, break any routines, so they don't mentally settle."

    "As part of your interrogation techniques?"

    "Yes, a mix of drugs, noise, sleep deprivation, and constantly changing their surroundings." Candace confirmed. "Nothing invasive, not yet anyway, but they are breaking."

    "It is inevitable." Jiang accepted. "And Ambassador Sheridan?"

    "He is still considered too valuable, he won't be interrogated unless the other attempts fail."

    That was going to be the challenge. Jiang was expecting a rescue mission, or at least some sort of military deployment to intimidate Liao into surrender. Whatever the goal, the result would be Alliance ships in orbit and he needed to be able to coordinate with them. The diplomatic transport still being in orbit was a good thing. It meant they hadn't figured out how to get it working again and the anti-intruder measures were still active.

    "So can you unlock the computer on the ship to send a message?" Candace asked.

    "I don't know, all I have is this hand link." He showed her the device on the back of his hand again. "But I will try."

    "It should be over the horizon now, try it." Candace encouraged. "Let me send a message to your people."

    "Alright." He activated the link and waited to see if it established contact. The range was long and he didn't have a lot of spare power, but this wasn't going to take long. He waited a few moments until there was a triple beep from the device. "Got it! Connection established!"

    "Great!"

    Jiang set to work. Candace obviously had a lot of ideas about what that ship could be used for. Jiang had no idea if she was working him over for her father or for her own gain. It didn't really matter. He was alive because they had a use for him, he guessed that use would end the second they realized he wasn't going to do a damn thing to help them.

    "I have a link, working."

    It was of course utterly impossible to unlock the computers on the ship using a mere hand link, and even if it wasn't, only the Captain and First Officer had the actual codes. From what Candace had said, neither had allowed themselves to be taken alive.

    "Computer, authorization Li, Jiang, codeword Red Hare," he spoke into the device.

    "Authorized." The calm computer voice responded, Candace energizing herself, leaning in.

    "Set tachyon system Jaddo beacon to active."

    "Set."

    "Initiate communication suite."

    "Unable to comply, system is locked."

    "Unlock communications, authorization Li, Jiang."

    "Unable to comply."

    "Unlock command systems."

    "Unable to comply."

    "Unlock navigation controls."

    "Unable to comply."

    He exhaled, staring over to an expectant Candace. "This is going to take a while."

    "Why?"

    "The system doesn't accept my authorization. I know it's me, but it isn't letting me access the core systems." He frowned. "Did your people touch anything? Try to break into the computers themselves?"

    "Of course they did, you expected them to just sit there and look at it?"

    "That will be why remote access had failed." He grimaced. "But we can fix it. Do you have people up there, you personally?"

    "Some."

    "I can provide written instructions for a manual reset." Jiang informed her. "Can you get them up there?"

    "Written instructions?"

    "Yes."

    "Do I look like an idiot?"

    Jiang kept his face steady. "I don't think so."

    "Then stop messing me around." She gave him a hard look, any pretend enthusiasm long gone. "Can you override the command codes on your ship?"

    "No."

    "Why did you say you could?"

    "I like being alive."

    She scoffed. "You might prefer being dead if you fuck me around any more Jiang. Are you any use to me at all?"

    "Do you really want to talk to my people? Genuinely."

    "I do."

    "Why?"

    "Because you have warships. Because I think the odds are good my father will kill your people before he lets them be rescued. Because I think if he does kill them, you'll nuke the planet to make an example."

    "You think we would?"

    "I would." Candace answered simply. "So yes, I do genuinely want to communicate with your people. My father knows you are here, he wants me to use you to open communications."

    "You have a very complicated family."

    "Will you help or not?" Candace cut to it. "Because if they do nuke the planet, that's going to be pretty bad for you too, Jiang."

    "The ship is locked down." Jiang stated again. "But in the cargo bays, we have commercial communication gear. The consoles we were going to give you, the ones the other great houses have. Get one, hook it up to a good power supply, then turn it on. Once you do, I'll give you the frequencies you need to connect to my commanders."

    "Do I bring it here?"

    "No, it's too big, find a secure place of your own." Jiang instructed. "You're going to need two or three people to move it, but the device is all integrated. Just feed it power, it will bounce a signal off the ship, so for the sake of all that is holy, do not move that transport."

    "Right."

    "The ship comms are locked down, but the console can still use the dishes up there to bounce the signal to the relays, so keep that paper with the orbit schedule."

    "So I suppose I need to bring you back into the Forbidden City." Candace narrowed her eyes. "Which I am sure is what you want, isn't it?"

    "I'll leave that to your imagination." Jiang evaded. "But the consoles will be all you need if you are serious. Get one, hook it up, talk to me."

    "Alright." Candace stood and began to plan her next move. "If this is a trick, you better pray for nuclear hellfire."

    "I didn't survive this long by not taking deals when they show up. Besides, I'll be right there, standing next to you."

    "Fine. We'll talk later, Jiang."

    He let her go, his face serious but his heart smiling. It didn't matter if she did kill him now, he'd done what he needed to do. The Jaddo Beacon. Named for the Centauri House that made first contact with Earth, a contact brought about after humanity had begun broadcasting newly discovered tachyons to see if anyone was listening.

    On the ship above, a small insignificant beacon was now broadcasting, its tachyon signal undetectable to the Capellans, but would be heard loud and clear by Earth Force. It wouldn't carry far, but it would give any incoming ships a temporary beacon they could use to make a short range hyperspace jump directly into Sian orbit.

    All he needed was for the ship to stay in orbit, and he was pretty sure Candace would ensure that. Perhaps she really did want to talk to Earth, she probably had five or six schemes ongoing and would pick the best option at the best time to ensure her survival. He would work with that, try to make her see that the Alliance could give her what she really wanted. Power.

    If he could get back into the city and play the game, he might just get close enough to grab the hostages himself with the help of Candace's insiders. It was a gamble, but better than sitting around waiting to be betrayed.



    New Aragon

    "It was all going so well, right up until he hit the eject button, forgetting we were still in the bunker." Ian Davion shook his head. "If you go there now, I hear you can still see the smear on the roof."

    "Bad luck." Jaime Wolf knocked back some more wine. "I always heard Combine boys deactivate their ejection systems so they don't dishonor themselves by living."

    "This one should have," Ian sympathized a little. "But at least it was quick."

    "One of the Hussars last month did something similar." Hanse Davion joined the story. "Down at the Brandy River, his machine went under and I suppose he panicked and ejected underwater, horizontally. Like a torpedo."

    "Perhaps it's nature's way of telling us to go down with our machines." Ian looked at the wine in his glass ruefully. "Our profession is death, what gives us the right to escape our own?"

    "Being lucky." Joshua answered. "Sometimes that's all that matters."

    "I'd rather have a lucky General than a good General." Hanse raised his glass.

    "That's Napoleon." From across the table, John Sheridan recognized the quote.

    "It is." Hanse confirmed. "You know the classics Captain?"

    "I made it a mission to learn a little history at the academy," Sheridan said to general approval. "Those who don't learn their history..."

    "...are doomed to repeat it." Hanse finished. "A fitting statement, Captain. Perhaps finally we are learning from our own history."

    Ian Davion's definition of a Field Kitchen was not something shared by the Earth Force officers. This wasn't warm sludge stirred in a pot the size of a small car. It was a full course dinner that would have cost a month's wages back on Earth.

    "With luck, what we do next will be a lesson for history." General Fraser received murmurs of agreement. "A sharp warning to the dishonorable."

    "And a fine display of our resolve," Hanse added. "I look forward to joining you."

    That drew a look from his brother.

    "Do you indeed?"

    "Of course. You are sending the Third Guards. My unit."

    "I am." Ian drank his wine. "Colonel Wolf, as we are all fellow soldiers here, do you think casualties will be heavy?"

    "It depends on the Capellans, but I doubt they will simply let us do as we please."

    "And if this is dangerous for veteran soldiers with many years experience, it must be even more dangerous for younger mechwarriors who have yet to learn the greater art of command?"

    "I see what you are doing, First Prince." Hanse spoke carefully. "But I know the danger, and one of us should be there. If we ask this of our loyal soldiers, and of our allies, then one of us must lead."

    "Your choice is your own." Ian spoke solemnly. "Just be sure you are doing this for the right reasons. There is little glory in being dead."

    "I am grateful for your concern, but I am capable."

    "You should stay close to my command lance, Prince Hanse," Wolf suggested. "I guarantee you'll learn a lot."

    "Thank you Colonel." Hanse recognized the subtle offer of extra protection. "I look forward to watching and learning from you."

    "Captain Sheridan." Ian switched targets. "Forgive the question, but are you related to Ambassador Sheridan?"

    "He is my father, First Prince."

    "I see, then you are in the right place."

    "Captain Sheridan is one of our finest commanding officers." General Hague nodded to his fellow officer. "He knows how to win fights."

    "An excellent trait in a soldier." Hanse agreed. "To be resourceful, adaptable, bold."

    "But still an optimist." Colonel Wolf chipped in. "I remember our little chat on New Haiti, Captain. Do you still see a positive future?"

    "I have to, otherwise what are we fighting for?"

    "See what I mean?" Jaime chuckled. "I do admire you. Captain, and I look forward to bringing your father home."

    "Once this is done, then what?" Joshua raised the point. "What do we do next?"

    "My President is firmly against a full scale war," Hague said simply. "Even in the worst case scenario." He briefly glanced at Sheridan. "She would not declare war or commit our armed forces for the sake of fifty people."

    "I am sorry to hear that." Ian pondered. "It is after all a matter of honor."

    "It is a matter of lives, potentially thousands lost in a war where we gain almost nothing. We can't take and hold a nation with hundreds of billions of citizens," Hague recognized. "There is a limit to how far we can commit. This is it."

    "Regrettable. But if you did feel aggrieved, we would always welcome more joint missions." Ian suggested. "Perhaps it would underline the message you wish to send?"

    "That would be for the President to decide, though she will be stepping down soon."

    "Is that so?" Ian raised an eyebrow. "For a democratic election?"

    "That's right, she's finished her term in office and won't run again. By the middle of next year, we will have a new President."

    "Interesting, I hope whoever it is will be just as open to working with us."

    "I have no doubt."

    "President Levy was a wartime leader." Jaime Wolf sneakily directed the conversation. "That's always going to take its toll."

    "For some," Hague agreed, finding his own steps carefully. "Elizabeth Levy was always the type to see good in a situation, a builder and negotiator. As a peace time President, she would have been a driver of our golden age. Instead she had to steer us through some dark days."

    "Yet here we are," Fraser opened his hands. "With new friends."

    "And new enemies." Sheridan reminded.

    "You've all three seen battle." Hanse recognized. "Hard fighting too."

    They didn't have to respond.

    "Were you fighting another deep periphery power?" Ian asked. "Another remnant of the Star League? Kerensky's legions?"

    "No, nothing like that."

    "What about the Minnesota Tribe?" Hanse raised remembering Wolf had mentioned them. "Do you know them?"

    "Not personally." Sheridan shook his head. "I'm from Kansas myself."

    "Kansas, which was on Terra?" Wolf spotted.

    "Earth." Sheridan corrected. "But it's easy to get the two mixed up, lot of names get copied."

    "Right." Wolf filed that away. "So who were you fighting?"

    The three officers shared looks between each other, finally Hague clearing his throat.

    "It's a long story, one that President Levy would like to share when this mission is complete."

    "Why wait?" Jaime pressed.

    "It's quite a story." The General said by way of answer. "But as trade opens up and your people begin to mix with ours, stories are going to be exchanged. Truths will be learned, and some of those truths may be a little, well, outlandish. So the President wants to give you the full briefing herself straight from the top."

    "Do I need to be concerned?" Ian asked seriously.

    "No, we don't think so." Hague shook his head. "But it is quite a story."

    "So you say." Jaime remained suspicious. "But fair enough, we can wait another month or two."

    "After that build up, it had better be good." Ian cut some roast beef from his plate. "If after all this, it turns out to be aliens..."

    All three Earth Force officers in unison took a drink.

    "I'll look forward to visiting Tortuga again, now it's looking a little nicer," Wolf moved on.

    "As do I." Ian joined. "If I am welcome?"

    "Of course, First Prince, always." Hague didn't hesitate. "I'd like to offer a toast, to friends and comrades."

    "Friends and comrades." The table echoed.

    "And to the success of Operation Helios."




    The Dropships blasted off on schedule, one after another climbing slowly into the sky on a column of white smoke and blue flame. It was late afternoon, the world was bathed in orange as the sun reached the end of its journey for that day, the left behind troopers watching the ships rise into the sky.

    "So try to hold Zeta in reserve until I can find some replacements." Jaime Wolf walked quickly across the launch pad, his brother at his side. "Maybe some of the prisoners are worth trying, those Kearny Highlanders were tough bastards. We could use them."

    "I'll spread the word." Joshua nodded.

    "And keep up the pressure in the lowlands, it's swampy as hell down there and we won't make good time with mechs. Keep harassing them with hovercraft."

    "I know."

    "Remember I'm stripping the fighter support, so you won't have..."

    "Jaime, just get on the damn ship." Joshua grinned widely. "I've got this."

    He stopped walking, relaxing and letting go of some of his energy.

    "Your right, you are a fully qualified commander and proven warrior. I trust you Josh, but you're still my little brother. What sort of man would I be if I didn't have a little concern?"

    "A late one, now get going."

    "I'll be back in a couple of months."

    "Make sure you are." Joshua made it a requirement.

    "And Natasha too, just imagine how glad she's going to be to see you."

    "Don't even joke about that."

    "Good time to figure out some hiding places, I think."

    "Just go." Joshua shook his head laughing. "Good hunting out there, Jaime."

    "Good hunting here, Josh."

    And that was it, the brothers went their separate ways. Joshua found a good spot with the rest of the Dragoon's command staff, all of them watching their brethren take to the skies on what was almost certainly going to be the greatest raid in centuries. Joshua had no doubt this would rank alongside the storming of Terra when the victorious wolves returned. And return they would.

    Other dropships also rose into the sky, a pair in royal blue carrying the first battalion of the Third Guards Regiment. They departed to a little more fanfare, a bugler sounding the advance as the ships took to the air, with fife and drum tapping a tune for the benefit of the honor guard that saw them off. Ian watched them rise until they were out of sight, stoic but far from unmoved.

    The ten dropships rose in sequence, all stripped for speed, carrying nothing but weapons, armor, and incredibly well armed warriors. They were holding nothing back. If they were stranded or disabled, there was no plan B, there would be no further rescue attempts. This was a strike into the heart of the enemy, its stronghold, and that enemy knew they were coming. Liao was confident in his power, in the strength of his armies, his weapons, the fighting spirit of his people, and he had every right to be.

    "We are free and clear to navigate."

    "Follow the flight path." Jaime grasped the hand holds on the bridge, the micro gravity returning as the big thrusters cut out. "How are we looking?"

    "All in the green."

    He pushed himself towards the windows at the front, Natasha already there absorbing the view.

    "Feels good to be up here again." She said by way of greeting.

    "Josh says hi," Jaime lied mischievously. "He looks forward to you getting back, I think he had dinner planned."

    "Great. He's a good warrior." Natasha smiled a little. "Got a little charm to him."

    Jaime smiled inwardly, he'd known Natasha for a long while and knew her to be an absolute demon in a fight, but this was something new. Maybe she was human after all.

    "Coming up on target, decelerating for docking procedure."

    "So destroyers he said." Jaime peered out through the dark. "Can you see them?"

    "Not yet, is the Lexington here too? If they sent Sheridan, she should be out here. You'd want a ship that big on a job like this."

    "That looks like our ship." Jaime pointed to a dark shape hanging with four others in the distance beyond the planet. "They're new."

    The dropships slowed down and approached the vessels, every extra second making the ships appear bigger, then bigger, and bigger still. The blocky hulls were far darker grey than the Lexington, without the curves and careful manufacturing of the older ship. They were brutalism returned, straight lines and hard angles dominated by a steadily rotating habitat block.

    "That's not the Lexington," Natasha helpfully pointed out.

    "No, it isn't." Jaime kept his eyes glued to the window. "Officer of the Watch, are we recording this?"

    "Every second sir."

    "What the fuck do we tell Khan Ward?" Natasha was also not looking away. "This is going to fuel calls for an attack like nothing else."

    "Look at those central blocks, that thing has to be spinning two or three battleship's worth of metal. The Lexington really was just a guard ship. These are what they roll out when they get angry."

    "And someone out there was trashing them." Natasha reminded. "Thank fuck Kerensky went up instead of across."

    "Wolverines didn't make them build these things. I'm going to be really interested to hear the story behind these guys. Just got to live long enough."

    "Just drop me on Sian solo, I'll handle it."

    "And miss out on the most legendary battle of our lives?"

    "Our lives so far," Natasha corrected. "When the rest figures out what's going on out here, I dunno. Jaime, what are we going to do?"

    "Our duty to our clan." He answered simply. "Let Ward worry about what that's going to be."

    The assorted dropships began their dance, rotating and sliding into place around the docking collars fixed to the pair of altered destroyers. Alpha Regiment docked with the Agamemnon while Beta took the Apollo, Hanse's units also latching on to the Agamemnon as it seemed fitting. From the control room, Sheridan watched the docking manoeuvres, the dropship operations still something of a novelty.

    "All ships docked Captain." His new First Officer Commander James reported formally. The Agamemnon was still a new ship and while they had drilled together, there was still a lot to be done. Going into battle when the ship, crew, and captain were still figuring out what they were each capable of was fraught with peril. They had to have faith in each other, belief they could all succeed in the tremendous challenge laid before them.

    "Bring KF drive systems online, prepare for jump to next target," he ordered.

    "Aye sir."

    "Check gravitational conditions."

    "Conditions are stable, it is safe to jump."

    "Standby." Sheridan checked the mission clock, all five ships would go at the same time. In his wildest imagination, he could never have guessed he would be embarking on a mission to rescue his dad from a pseudo communist police state with several dozen robot riding mercenaries and Arthurian aficionados as his allies. Yet here he was, and it was deadly serious.

    "Jump in five seconds."

    Whatever happened, whatever fears, he didn't want to be anywhere else. He would shape this event with his own hands, with the tools at his disposal, the allies he had made. He had the chance to influence the outcome, and he would not waver. They were going to Sian with the wrath of hell riding with them, and when they left it would be the start of a new age.
     
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