Throw a Stone (BT/afterSI)

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You thought it was an update, but actually it was


GET IN THE GODDAMN ROBOT, SHINJI.

 

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Dragonslayer 02


Approx 180 km NNW of Conlan City
New Aberdeen

It was not even noon yet.

In truth, it was not exactly necessary for General Lavrenti Kornilov to lead this rarely-seen force concentration. He could have just stayed at the DropShip, coordinating the regiment's actions via the command post inside an Overlord.

However, this whole thing was about repaying the insult. Doing better than the Wolf's Dragoons. It is known that sometimes even Jaime Wolf fights on the field. A leader must at times go to the battlefield and risk their life to prevent an unseemly appearance of laziness. The Draconis Combine can abide many things, but a timid commander least of all.

He had advised his predecessor to commit ritual suicide rather than face any accusation of impropriety by the Assembly of the Grand Inquisitor, the Combine's military court. While General Fastius Semronovitch had done nothing wrong, just being called up meant that those facing the court would never be seen again and they could extract any confession they wished. Better to die with his honor intact. And thereafter Kornilov took control of the regiment.

Someone may have given the Grand Inquisitors false information for this exact situation.

The battle group moved with three companies on each flank, with the command company at the center. It was roughly an A-shaped formation.

His Target and Tracking System buzzed with air contact. ASFs approached from ahead but at high altitude. These were 4th Deneb fighters, still contesting the skies, preventing Kuritan air from being of any direct help. At the very least no one was in a position do any bombing runs. They would have to rely on forward scouts to find the enemy.

Kornilov idly listened to the battalion channels. Four hours in and nothing interesting had happened. Battlemechs had autopilot when at cruising speed, and the wide open (if not exactly flat) expanse of New Aberdeen's semi-arid soils were excellent for this.

The radio crackled "Erik Lance to Rocket Lead, reporting enemy contact. Looks like… four lances. Two lances Urbanmech. Two lances Catapult and Archer. We are engaged. Over."

"Roger that." There was a click. "This is Rocket Company Lead to Battalion Command, seeking permission to support. Over."

"Hm. That would be forward left company, would it not?" he said to Kutuzov, walking beside him also in a Dragon.

"Hai, general. That one is named, oddly enough, Steiner," was the reply from the other mech. "Steiner's Rocket Company is a light mech company. I would recommend sending Tolbukhin Company instead, they have anti-minefield sensors."

That would mean compressing the left side. He frowned. "Sensible. Catapults and Archers with four medium lasers are decent skirmishers for fire support mechs, they can withstand attack by light mechs ranging in the back line. Tell them to pull back. See if the Davions will dare try to harass our flank, and then meet them with force."

"Hai, general!" Kutuzov relayed the instructions.

"Rocket Company to Erik Lance, pull back. Do you copy? Erik Lance, do you read?"

Looking ahead, the two forward companies were behind a ridge, and their scouts ranged several kilometers ahead of the formation.

No communications returned from Erik Lance, composed of three 20-ton Wasps and a 35-ton Jenner. Kornilov wrinkled his nose. While light and barely armored, those four mechs should still be fast enough that they could not be taken out quickly. Even one against four lances, they should be able to break off.

Steiner's voice came back "Enemy contact! As reported, here comes eight Urbanmechs, four each Catapult and Archer. We are under missile and PPC fire." The left company spread out while the other forward company moved to assist.

"If this is a feint, if we move with the weight of numbers we will not be led astray," said Kornilov. "All forces, move on point and engage." He moved the throttle of his mech to full. The arrow-shaped formation tilted to the left.

As his mech cleared the ridge, he saw how the enemy engaged forward elements. Two companies of light mechs versus one mixed company of lights and heavies. The light mechs were rushing to close in with the enemy at full speed, while the Davions were walking at a quick yet oddly leisurely-looking pace at an angle, picking them off one by one.

The Kurita formation pivoted to prevent the enemy from finding the flank. Steiner company was the tip of the spear. Coming from behind the Urbanmechs, missiles crossed the gap. Missiles were rarely a decisive weapon against light mechs, as most of them can miss a mech moving and abruptly changing directions at high speed.

Large Laser fire, however… that was another matter entirely.

A Locust brewed up, its ammunition igniting from being cored through by a pair of Large Lasers. Those were probably ARC-2Ks, a common variant in the Draconis Combine. There, a Jenner that managed to get through was showered in criss-cross fire from the Catapults. Instead of four Medium Lasers, the Catapults only fired three each. On the other hand, these lasers struck at ranges closer to that of a Large Laser. Armor boiled off as the beams carved into it, until one of its legs was sliced clean through and the mech collapsed face-first into hard ground.

The Urbanmechs peeled off from screening the Heavy Mech to meet the incoming medium-weight company from the middle left portion of the battle group. They answered LRM fire with PPC fire from extreme ranges.

"So it is true…" he heard Kutuzov murmur. "They are using lostech. This is not the Fourth Deneb. They are the Eridani Light Horse!"

Both the Eridani Light Horse and the 4th Deneb still used standard SLDF pale olive camo.

"Good! Crushing this group would be a fine appetizer. They made a mistake here - throwing away two lances of Heavies just to buy themselves time. Even losing a full company of light mechs is worth the exchange. We could trade two for one and still be on the advantage - a spoiling attack should do more than their own weight to be of value! Destroy them!"

They had been warned about stupidly fast Urbanmechs with ER PPCs. But to defeat them all one needed to do was to be sufficiently fast. Long-range duels were a fool's bargain.

As the 2nd Galedon Regulars rushed forth at full speed, the ELH mechs slowly dialed down their attacks and began to accelerate. They disengaged smoothly. Even the Catapults and Archers began to move past regular running speed of Heavy mechs - up to Medium mech speeds, ensuring that most of the 2nd Galedon Mechs would not be able to catch up given the initial distance between the two formations. Only Light Mechs would be able to close the distance, but then that would lead them out of sight of the battle group.

The Eridani Light Horse attacked, wrecked a company of light mechs in short order, and then pulled back with almost no damage to themselves.

Those heavy mechs were moving at 86 kph.

Dragon speeds.

How?

"Did they downgrade the LRMs into LRM-10s? LRM-5s?" Kutuzov murmured to himself some more. "Or is it more lostech? It is probably lostech." His voice was tinged with greed.

"Enemy contact!" reported Ulasov's company, formation lower-right. "Medium mechs!"

Deneb.

Kornilov hissed. "Split the force. Kutuzov, take two companies and handle this."

He would take the remaining four companies and keep pushing forward. Kutuzov's battle group was fast enough to deal with anything. Deneb's Light Cavalry would have mechs in the same weight class.

Kutuzov sucked in his breath. Not participating in the fight against the Eridani Light Horse meant he was not due any of that lostech salvage. Deneb Cavalry Mechs were potent if used with skill, but mundane.

"Well, Tai-sa?"

"A-as you command, Tai-sho." Kutuzov's Dragon halted abruptly and wheeled about. The battalion commander began screaming commands into his comms, and the two rear guard companies broke formation.

--
--

It was ideal for a force to move at a uniform speed, preferably a Medium Mech's 86 kph running speed or 54 kph cruising speed. In practice, this was not possible even for a maximum aggression Kurita force. Light mechs such as the Panther had a powerful punch for their weight class with a PPC, but were limited to 64 kph running speed. This was not normally a problem as that was average Heavy mech speed and the DCMS like to use Jenners and Panthers in a hammer and anvil approach.

Medium mechs could carry heavier firepower if they were to accept a reduction in speed, the classic Davion Enforcer for example. A Class 10 Autocannon in one arm and a Large Laser in another totaled 18 tons (w/ ammo) for a 50-ton machine. A 45-ton Vindicator was essentially an up-sized Panther for these purposes, with more armor and all-range weapons load.

By a similar vein, a Heavy Mech could accept a reduction in firepower or armor in exchange for speed, the Dragon or Quickdraw for example. All of the 2nd Galedon's Heavy Mechs were in this vein.

The 2nd Galedon also had a pair of Assault Mechs, moving at a top speed of 54 kph. They were a Stalker and a Victor.

A veritable rain of missiles arced from the sky. Eight heavy mechs, each carrying a pair of LRM-15s, meant a white swarm of 240 LRMs inbound. Fortunately indirect fire was not quite as accurate as within visual range launches.

Unfortunately this was still a big swirling blob of missiles that was guaranteed to hit something. Anything. The command company scattered to spread out chances of being hit.

Mechs had more or less some armor stripped off. More so with the two Assault mechs in the command lance, being too slow to change their direction in time. Once again Lavrenti Kornilov appreciated the wisdom of not being the big obvious target in the regimental command lance. In the Combine, speed was life itself.

This meant that unless Kornilov wanted to fight directly and outpace his command and bodyguard lances, his command battle group was limited to 54 kph. Lances with Panthers in them were limited to 64 kph to maintain unit cohesion.

It was just that the Eridani Light Horse were refusing to step in between the hammer and the anvil.

So be it. On a broad front they would meet the enemy. Ten BattleMech lances by themselves would normally be a match for all two mixed battalions the Davions had on planet. They would be the hammer. They would be the storm. This was the decisive battle!

-.
-.

Allwine watched the formerly neat Kuritan formation wobble into disarray, splitting into two like a cell undergoing mitosis.

What had once been a neat arrow had turned into two stringy blobs. The formations stretched out into a line to be able to surround and swallow the enemy. As everyone in this fight was familiar with Light Mech tactics, they all prepared to refuse the flank in advance.

With their unprecedented speed, the ELH's Archers and Catapults didn't need a screening force of Light Mechs. Now the four lances separated into two groups - the Urbanmechs being the hammer and heavy mechs with their missile load and ER Large and Medium Lasers being the anvil. Kuritan Light mechs that outpace their own company would be caught in enfilade.

This was doing the Mongol, he mused. They could drag this out for hours if they had to. Normal operations would already be leading the enemy into an enfilade ambush of combat vehicles and heavy mechs.

But the Eridani Light Horse only had two full companies - six lances - or 24 mechs in this fight.

They had reduced the enemy's starting 82 mechs by one company (12) and heavily damaged another dozen. Another 28 mechs (2 companies + command lance) then removed themselves to deal with 4th Deneb's own two dozen mechs.

Now all the remaining 42 BattleMechs were raring towards Raymond Allwine's face.

He stroked at his bushy mustache. Half a year ago this would have been intimidating.

But knowing that General Armstrong had access to Robotnik's holorecordings - years of the man's philosophy and forgotten/buried knowledge about the inner workings of the Star League - Allwine had begged for the privilege of listening to the voice of a man born in two golden ages of mankind. He had to hear and accept all sorts of uncomfortable truths.

Chief among them was that the SLDF was not really all that much better than the House militaries during the height of the Star League. Davion troops were as professional as the SLDF, Kurita troops just as skilled, even House Liao at that time was a competent power. Marik and Steiner had the economy to match the SLDF's output if they really wanted to. Their advantage was that they started ramping up early from the days of the Terran Hegemony and never stopped. They took in contributions from the House Militaries and labeled them as their own.

What made the SLDF so much better than the Great Houses that, until Kerensky left with all the SLDF, they did not dare to test their might?

The SLDF had many advantages, their system was unmatched, but there was another special thing that broke loyalties of family and nation into something greater. What elevated their personhood and brought them into recruitment centers that knew they would be ceding their citizenship in their House to fight on distant worlds?

He looked to his left and right. He was in a Battlemaster, an 85-to Assault mech often used as a command mech. Even Hanse Davion used one. To his left was a 75-ton Marauder, and to his right two 75-ton Flashmans. A 30-ton Super Urbanmech Comms Guard was standing by his side around knee level, its dome top barely visible at this height. This was the entirety of his command lance.

Behind him were all eight of the Super Urbanmech Arrow IVs of the battalion. They would be helpless to direct attack, as they sacrificed too much armor and speed in order to mount their sizable artillery reloads.

And two 60-ton communications and control trucks.

Ah yes. He grinned. "Presentation!"

-.
-.

Near The Firth
New Aberdeen
Same day

Yasneyev Georgi was a proud graduate of Sun Zhang Academy. Though its training was founded on harsh discipline and emphasized bushido, at least it was based on savage beatings as the conditioning regiment as the Galedon Military Academy.

Sun Zhang was one of the few schools in the Draconis Combine that honored its graduates with both a Wakizashi and a Katana sword. These may be worn with the soldier's dress uniform. If for any reason the soldier dishonored himself in any way, however, he must commit seppuku or face the loss of his 'Mech or fighter, landholdings, titles, rank, and both his own and his family's honor.

Ehrenburg, commander of the third Battalion, was also a graduate of Sun Zhang Academy. Sun Zhang Academy counted as its graduate the current Coordinator of Worlds, Takashi Kurita, autocrat ruler of the Draconis Combine itself.

Galedon Academy was for commoners, Sun Zhang was for the elites.

Ehrenburg's failure on New Aberdeen could only be expiated with death.

More urgent than simply beating some uppity mercenary MechWarrior was making sure Kiel Ehrenburg did not kill himself too early. His death must be observed according to the proper ritual of seppuku, as mere suicide to avoid enduring the humuliation any further would not be enough to save his family from the dishonor.

Officers of House Kurita did not have a duty to live, but to die properly. Dying in battle was often the best, but if Ehrenburg had decided to spike himself onto a PPC bolt to escape the consequences, there would need to be a serious inquest.

Ehrenburg Battalion's Overlord-class dropship, the Bialistock, had landed in a very defensible valley that used to be a mine established by the Combine when they owned the world. Towns nearby were Kuritan sympathizers, or at least were visibly cooperative as long as there were Battlemechs in the area.

A single Spider rushed forth to meet Georgi's battle group.

The pilot spoke in crackling heavily accented commoner's Japanese "This is Shujin Sugita of Badnov's Company, Ehrenburg Battalion. May I have the honor of knowing if the Mechs are of Georgi Battalion?"

As the Light mech approached, they could all see it was missing its left arm. Fortunately a Spider's pair of Medium Lasers was mounted in the torso.

"Is it? A mere sergeant by himself coming to meet his betters. You dishonor us. I am Tai-sa Georgi. Where is Ehrenburg?"

The Spider bowed. "I apologize for the insult, masters. You may have my life if you wish. But Tai-sa Ehrenburg-sama is… indisposed. He is of the moment in a medical coma and cannot show the proper courtesy."

Georgi sneered. "How convenient."

"If you would allow it, please follow me to the base at speed. We cannot stay out in the open any more than necessary."

Georgi sucked in his breath. "I did not think it was possible for the 2nd Galedon to fall so far, but you are all actual cowards now. I should shoot you where you stand."

"I would welcome this mercy, my lord. But please, I beg you to let us do this at a more opportune place. It has been a long journey for you. If my death would amuse you in anyway, I would happily offer my life back at base at your ease."

Georgi switched radio channels for a moment. "Second Galedon Second Battalion Command to Air Lance. Do you see any enemy movement? Over."

"This is Leaf Lance Leader, negative on that. Over." An Aerospace Lance was two fighters, and four ASFs circled the skies above the group.

"Actual cowards," Georgi breathed again.

-.
-.

Ehrenburg had at least chosen his landing site well. The valley was protected on three sides, and one side was a mountain face. The excavated chambers of the iron mines made for cool quarters and storage under the New Aberdeen heat. The site was large enough to support an airfield.

The Overlord loomed over an entrance that could only accept two mech lances walking side by side. The Battalion was originally accompanied by an Triumph-class fighter-carrier DropShip but, as the dropship was not as good for launching and refitting ASFs once landed, it left with the Wolf's Dragoons. Of the original anti-4th Deneb air support, only a single Sabre remained.

The valley did not have walls tall enough to be collapsed into invaders, but the rough rise and fall of the terrain meant that only jump-capable mechs would be able to move in cohesion. This was not terrain good for non-jump capable heavy mechs. The Kuritan Dragon could not jump, but it was at least fast. A Davion Centurion or Jagermech would not be able to contribute so well.

There was space to accept Georgi's company, as it was originally made to service a full battalion. Now he could see all the remains of what had been a proud assembly of forty mechs (3 companies + command lance, made possible through the removal of the six ASF bays for extra mech bays and cargo). Nine heavily battered mechs stood at attention, and the Spider escorting them joined them in line.

This was light mech country and that was all that remained of Ehrenburg battalion. Two 35-ton Firestarters, two 35-ton Jenners, one last 35-ton Panther, the rest 20-ton Locusts and Stingers, all showing extensive weapons fire carbon scoring on their Galedon colors of white and light blue.

Ehrenburg swiveled his 60-ton Dragon's torso from side to side, looking over the base. There were some signs of combat. The troops - infantry and armor, looked nervous and ready to repulse another assault at any moment.

The remaining Ehrenburg mechs were relaxed, as if inviting death. The regular troops moved with purpose and sank into dug-in positions. Trenches minimized exposure to artillery and mech fire. No one was pointing any guns at newcomers but at the valley mouth beyond them. Cowards but prepared to fight.

Georgi grimaced and bit at his bottom lip in a pug-like scowl. Something smelled wrong here.

 

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Dragonslayers 03


NNW of Conlan City
New Aberdeen


Technically Roland Kaplan, as the representing of the 4th Deneb and proper ranking officer of the AFFS, should have been in charge of this operation. However, when Raymond Allwine revealed the plan, he realized that this was the special sort of crazy that could work terribly well against the DCMS.

"The Eridani Light Horse, the Deneb Light Cavalry, the Second Galedon Regulars - all of us purport to be specialists in the field of fire and maneuver. Who then, are the best at it?" Allwine had asked idly.

Kaplan blandly replied "The Second Galedon is nowhere near this starting line. I would have to ask from Kurita for a Sword of Light regiment at least, not these trumped-up paper boys."

Allwine nodded. The 2nd Galedon benefited greatly from the best that Kurita's logistics could bring, but carried themselves as a regiment that earned their place through skill alone. "That's what they think. One of them has the pride of all of them."

He sighed. "The Draconis Combine is a dragon that cannot be defeated, a monster that cannot be slain. Because they will never admit to ever being beaten. All setbacks are only temporary, a man would rather die than be humiliated. That is the way of the warrior - their bushido."

"We have all been fighting the Combine for centuries now. There really isn't anything new that can be used against them anymore. Just beat them straight up and don't worry about it," Kaplan replied and looked to the distance with the despair of Pyrrhus after defeating Rome at Heraclea and Ausculum. "The Combine… is just something we all have to endure. We beat them here, they're justs going to come back. Twice as mad. Not angry-mad, insane-fanatic-lunatic-mad.

"Sometimes I feel like they're a force of nature, a perpetual disaster of the Inner Sphere. How can any reasonable man stand against such reckless hate?" Kaplan clenched his fists. "Just beat them. Beat them every time. Kill enough of them so that next time they get weaker and weaker until for a longer time… we can have peace. Until they start to pull their bloody mind to things again."

Allwine said "The Draconis Combine cannot be hurt through war and violence alone, that is where they thrive. To truly hurt them, you need to attack their soul."

-.
-.


As Kaplan remembered that the Second Galedon took pride in being open-field combatants, the wide open sun-baked plains of New Aberdeen promised to answer this unspoken question. There were few wooded areas to hide ambushes in, and tube artillery like the venerable Long Tom were far too slow to accompany mechs. There was no choice but to intercept the enemy and get into a knock-out match.

The 2nd Galedon had to prove they were better in very thing their enemy took pride in. The 2nd Galedon moved with the arrogant confidence of a firstborn son.

Unlike the Eridani Light Horse and Kornilov's regimental command, the 4th Deneb's 3rd Battalion vs Kutuzov's Battalion would be decided by skill versus skill. They had the same tech level, the same overall speed, and no artillery to complicate things. There was always the chance that Kornilov would not have split the force, but too large a force was unwieldy and refusing to accept battle was timidity.

Both the 4th Deneb and the Eridani Light Horse had fought the Draconis Combine through centuries, and by now they were familiar with how they thought. The Combine thought in mythic terms, as if the whole of the Inner Sphere was a stage and each one had their role to play. Most were just chaff, incidental actors and background scenery, it was up to each one of them to achieve a starring role (often at someone else's expense).

Just outnumbering and encircling the defenders would have been fine, but that did not make for an interesting enough story. The glory that the commanders would achieve would be minimal. As Allwine admitted, this was similar to how on Hoff, the Kurita commander decided to ignore the Wolf's Dragoons and attack first after a soothsayer had promised him victory.

One would think that there would be no room for astrologers and mystics in a military campaign, but that was the inherent dichotomy of the Draconis Combine. Kaplan had to admit that the DCMS had some damn good individual soldiers ruined only by the rank ego and superstitiousness of their officers.

"I am Major Roland Kaplan of the Fourth Deneb Light Cavalry Regiment! Pyotr Kutuzov, I know you can hear me!" he shouted into an open channel. At the very least, everyone's battlerom would have it. "Is a fair fight the only thing you're scared of? Come on, you snakes! Let's dance!"

Unlike the Eridani Light Horse who cheated with Catapults and Archers that were just as fast as Medium Mechs, the two companies of 4th Deneb had to work to keep the enemy's attention on the chase. Kaplan's mechs moved in a loose formation that invited one on one duels.

They didn't need to pull the enemy away very far. Less than fifteen minutes later, the dry semi-desert of New Aberdeen showed a broad plume of dust coming from the horizon.

Just far enough that the Eridani Light Horse and 4th Deneb's combat vehicle complement could roll in from the flank. The Vedettes of ELH Bravo Company and DLC 3rd Armor Company now joined the fray.

Now Kaplan could almost hear the Kurita pilots scoff at their sensors reporting the approach of over two dozen Vedettes.

The quintessential medium tank all others were measured against, a Vedette weighed fifty tons but was only armed with a single AC/5 and a Machine Gun. This was an anemic warload in the thirtieth century, more proper to a tank or mech 25 tons lighter.

Even at those numbers they were underwhelming. A Vedette Medium Tank was not worth a mech - in fact a MechWarrior would consider it not worth even three for a mech - a well-piloted Light Mech could even just survive its fire long enough to step on them.

Their main advantage was that they were cheap and decently fast, able to keep up with medium mechs. They roared to contact in several dagger lines, tearing up the ground at over 80 kilometers per hour.

This disdain for the AC/5 was odd considering that an AC/5 was a Dragon's main gun as well, but it also had an LRM-10 to supplement long range fire, and a pair of Medium Lasers that never feared running out of ammo. It was an excellent close-range combatant. Kutuzov's Dragon led the charge.

"Is this it, you Davion dogs?!" Tai-sa Kutuzov spoke over comms. "Pathetic. You are not mechwarriors if you need to be rescued by some second-rate tanks! Enough running. Fight me now, cowards!"

Major Kaplan ordered his two companies to wheel about to fight. "This is far enough. Deneb Cavalry! Let's skin some snakes!"

Kutuzov detached two lances to screen against the incoming tanks and readied to duel the Davion mechs to their deaths. They would not accept surrender, he boasted. His ancestors would always look upon him with pride, but the Davions would know only weeping and disgrace, unworthy and craven from birth.

They were sons of the Dragon, and this was their story. It was the story of a warrior trampling upon the weak and the unworthy.

These eight mechs, mainly Jenners that were deadly with their four medium lasers and SRMs at close range, and led by Griffin, were excellent tank hunters.

The leader's PPC and the Autocannons on those Vedettes had the same effective range. As the dazzling blue lightning of the Griffin's PPC shrieked, a rolling boom of autocannon fire answered.

Shells ripped through the air, and the incoming Kurita mechs waded into that fusillade. Light Mechs running at full speed aiming to close the distance all staggered. For the sufficiently unlucky, blood painted the insides of cockpits.

The Eridani Light Horse had even ditched their Machine Gun ammo in order to load even more Armor Piercing ammunition for their Class-Five Autocannons.

The RNIK Death Egg could plunder nearby parallel dimensions for items to duplicate and ELH 19th Red Horse Regiment, Allwine "Neckbreakers" Battallion, had a hundred tons to share.

AP ammunition was not strictly a straight improvement, being twice as heavy with larger propellant load to compensate for the heavy tip in exchange for improved chance to punch through fresh armor. The heavier kick meant they were less accurate in a burst. In many ways they were more dangerous against tank armor, where a punch-through would rapidly disable or kill the crew, compared to mere equipment destruction or mostly harmless blow-through on a battlemech.

Having half as many rounds per ton was not worth it. The Inner Sphere had the ability to craft better ammunition for a long time now, but no one wanted to bother. Just shoot more at the enemy. More ammunition meant better battlefield longevity, as plenty of shots were likely to miss under combat conditions, mechs and tanks jinking this way and that.

But with this many guns concentrating fire against mere eight mechs-

It was like a farmer cutting through stalks of rice.

And now the ELH armor company had a clear run at the thinner rear armor of the 2nd Galedon troops already engaged with the 4th Deneb. Kutuzov could not even turn back in horror.

Roland Kaplan smiled as he drove his Dervish deep into the brawl. This was the story the 4th Deneb wanted to tell.

A tale of gung-ho idiots.

-.
-.

North of Conlan City
New Aberdeen

A loud cheery voice issued from the comms, drowning all used radio frequencies.

"How deede-ly do, bad neighborinos! Are these some snakes in the grass I see before me? Hellooo New Aberdeen! This is Raymond Allwine, Battalion commander of the Eridani Light Horse speaking! I can see you, Lavrenti Kornilov. I stand approximately twelve kilometers ahead of you. Maybe this would be a good-doodly-day to once more be reminded why House Kurita cowered before the SLDF. Dare you fight me in this death ground?"

Then he laughed. It was a strange canoodling sort of laugh.

Kuritan communications returned with angry retorts. "Honorless mercenary rat!" "You will die like the dog you are!" "Kurita banzai! Combine banzai!"

Kornilov only scowled in silence. In difficult ground, press on; In encircled ground, devise stratagems; In death ground, fight.

This was the wisdom of Sun Tzu, still valid after three thousand years, and studied well in all military schools of the Combine.

This was too obviously a scheme of the Light Horse. They had some sort of stratagem. Now that what had once been an overwhelming force had been cut in half to merely overpowering, they were promising to stop running and finally conclusively fight to the end.

That was probably a trick. Yet of course the DCMS would dare!

As the mechs closed in, Kornilov's sensors detected aircraft at long range. VTOLs. Petty white strings of LRM-5 volleys spun towards the 2nd Galedon on the heels of the Light Horse. Most of them misses, and those that didn't caused minimal armor loss.Those were probably some pathetic Warrior combat helicopters.

Useful, but rarely decisive against battlemechs. Their rotors could never be adequately armored and the need to fly sharply reduced their weapons load. Warrior VTOLs were skies' equivalent to the Quikscell Company's Scorpion Light Tank. Cheap and nearly useless by themselves, only threatening in great numbers - and the buyer will need those numbers, because they were that cheap and they were so thinly armored they were guaranteed to lose a great many of them.

Was that it?

No, he resolved. This was a distraction. A stupid distraction, but there had to be something else. Even if they were there to waste the time of any mechs aiming up to shoot at them it would still be a poor scheme. The Eridani Light Horse was no underfunded militia.

He scowled. This was disappointing of the Light Horse if that was all they had. With ten mech lances, he did not fear an ambush even by tanks.

As much as Kornilov wanted to accelerate and join the point of contact for combat, the leading line of light mech companies had stretched out enough distance between the center force composed mainly of medium missile mechs and Dragons and the trailing rear line of assault mechs and their Panther escort.

"Visual contact with enemy battle line!" the forward lances reported. "Heavy mechs! Led by a Battlemaster!"

Kornilov's heart sang. Finally!

The ELH Archers and Catapults slowed down and formed up to join the advancing lance. Three lances formed the Erdani battle line versus the ten (more like nine, after damage from the running battle) of the 2nd Galedon. The eight Super Urbanmechs screened the left side. It remained immensely frustrating that the ELH mechs were still mostly in shape, though not unscathed.

Fortunately it seemed that the Archers and Catapults had finally run out of ammo. They could only contribute their guns now.

No need for anything complicated. Just slam into them at speed and cut them down! Not even his troops could screw up something that simple. The flanks would care for themselves with this many mechs forming natural encirclement.

-.

And this was the time the Eridani Light Horse finally used their Arrow IVs.

Kornilov had almost forgotten that the ELH had them.

Eight missiles slammed into the ground between the forward and middle lines of the 2nd Galedon formation. But instead of artillery, the missiles on impact exploded into tall billowing columns of black smoke.

Despite themselves, the running Kurita mechs hesitated. The DCMS did not prize initiative in its low-ranked officers. Run through or not? Better wait for orders. Lance leaders waited a few priceless seconds for the company leaders to order them to rush through.

The forward line, with their sight lines unhindered, rushed ahead in full fervor.

This abruptly reminded him of the great shame of the Kurita family, the battle off Leyte between the IJN's Center Force and USN's Taffy 3. The commander of that fleet, aboard the mighty superbattleship Yamato herself, had been driven off by a bunch of destroyers and jeep carriers. Takeo Kurita's descendants spent a thousand years trying to expunge that shame.

If only he had dared. If only he had been willing enough to lose, he could have seen the illusion of the enemy's strength for what it was. The DCMS studied it to understand how nerve meant the difference between defeat and victory. Metal was nothing if the man was weak.

And once more, the forces of Kurita were being stymied by a smokescreen.

In those seconds, the forward lances exploded.

Kornilov had no idea what was happening, only that massive explosions were rippling ahead of them. Had the Light Horse set up a minefield? When? How?

Well behind the lines, after laying down pre-targeted kilometers-wide areas with obscurant, the eight Super Urbanmech Arrow IV artillery mechs now let loose their Arrow-IV Thunder scatterable mines.

Behind even them were two trucks with six individual command pods and extensive command and control facilities inside. They just happened to command and control drones.

Arrow IV artillery was dangerous, but in the end they were still only about two hundred kilograms of bang each. Even airburst cluster warheads had an effective kill radius of sixty meters.

The VTOLs that Kornilov had earlier dismissed as Warriors were actually RNIK Egg Flyer drones, twenty tons each, packing an LRM-5 for long-range harassment and a Medium Laser for close-in support. Piloted remotely, they had an effective control range of 80 kilometers and could serve as recon and light support with their top speed of 151 kph. Surprisingly, they were even fusion-powered - what many considered a waste of a Class-85 fusion engine in a chassis protected only by two and half-tons of armor.

The way the Eridani Light Horse operated in the Succession Wars was from a position of extreme scarcity. They had to carefully mitigate risk and conserve as much military hardware as possible. The DCMs preferred to spend men, and if enough died in exchange for good salvage, they would still come out ahead. The SLDF's philosophy was that it was always better to spend metal instead of men.

The Egg Flyer drones swooped down to every lance that was not sufficiently dispersed and exploded in the middle of them. Abruptly turning into an expanding globe of heavy shrapnel, the kamikaze drones meant that anything within 30 meters was just outright deleted from existence and anything inside a 180 meters-wide sphere was just dead or heavily damaged.

The Death Egg considered them "Urbanmech enough" for some reason to produce, the same as the Urbanite Ultralight Mechs. The ELH would never run out of these type of disposable remote control drones.

Within those three and a half seconds of hesitation, eight explosive drones removed six lances of the 2nd Galedons forward battle line. Mechs bravely running through the smoke ran into the fresh minefield.

"Minefield! Minefield!" Kornilov heard one of the forward elements screaming in panic. "Their missiles can lay down minefields!"

'More damn lostech!' Kornilov cursed silently.

Then moments later only the sounds of PPC fire and more explosions. Firecracker-like bangs announced airburst artillery shells, dropping bomblets that were more likely to hit battlemech heads (and thus increased chances to breach through to the pilot within) compared to ground-contact high explosive shells.

The Kuritan general was struck numb with indecision. The last he had seen, the ELH battle line was weak to the right. But that was also predictable. Super Urbanmechs were fast enough to move flanks in that time.

Radar of course still worked through smoke. But without visual sensors to aid in identification, Super Urbanmech ECM blocked any information from passing through.

Left or right? Or wait for the smoke to dissipate?

Until he could make a decision, the entire battle group was actually paralyzed in place. He snarled and ordered "Right!"

More airburst bomblets bloomed overhead in the few moments while he reached a decision. No more time to think - just run! Mitigate artillery damage by simple speed and dispersal!

He ordered the Panthers to push through the smoke and report, while the pair of Assault Mechs and Trebuchets remained in reserve, following close by as he rushed to the right flank with his Dragons.

The smoke was there to make it difficult to know tell the mines landed, he was sure now! It was unlikely for the trailing edges of the smoke line to be mined. He only needed to move a little further and then push through.

As Kornilov finally made visual contact with Allwine's battle line, there was only joy in his face. Finally, an enemy he could shoot at!

He never saw the six Super Urbanmechs moving through the smoke cover, the Kuritan mechwarriors ignoring the unfamiliar warning buzz as they sighted but did not fire anything recognizable as a weapon.

It would prove to be a mistake.

TAG lasers worked through smoke because they communicated via microwave from the TAG-carrying battlemech's targeting sensors to the inbound missile. With the same effective range as a Large Laser, this put those daring light mechs well within danger range of return fire from the Stalker. If only that Assault Mech turned around.

Seconds later, it no longer mattered.

But even with more explosions erupting behind him, Kornilov could no longer spare any attention to the rest of his regiment.

He had Raymond Allwine's lance in front of him; seeing them cutting down his Panthers with massed laser fire from Archers and Flashmans, striking well beyond what should have been possible. Kuritan pilots were known for making a light mech act like an extension of their body, slipping away from weapons fire, turning combat almost into a deadly dance. None of that helped them now.

"Honorless cur!" Kornilov screamed at the enemy.

Then for a moment he paused again.

That Battlemaster was running pace with the other heavy mechs. Heavy mechs that had been demonstrated to have the speed and maneuverability of mediums.

A Battlemaster was an assault mech that weighed eighty-five tons.

The 2nd Galedon had split their force again, so that now it was three lances versus two. Now the Eridani Light Horse outnumbered the enemy, as was right and proper SLDF doctrine.

"Hi diddly ho, snakey boyos," spoke Raymond Allwine. "Time to die."

Lavrenti Kornilov let out a guttural roar full of hate and spite. He was still a general of the Draconis Combine! A samurai! As long as he could take down the enemy with him - as long as he could trade his life for the enemy - he could still win!

As long as he lived, he could make a fight of it -

Allwine raised his Battlemaster's right hand, and pointed a weapon that never existed within the timeline of this dimension. To make room for the Command Console, his command mech had to sacrifice all other weapons than the one on its right arm.

Shrak! Shrak! Shrak!

A rapid burst of PPC bolts slapped against the body of Kornilov's mech.

"What-"

As the rest of the heavy lance engaged, throwing bolts and beams downrange, Kornilov's mech kept going and was ignored by the others. It also turned out that the Archers and Catapults had not entirely run out of ammo, but had reserved some volleys for this final confrontation. For a moment the Kuritan general exulted. This at least was a proper duel, and he -

Shrak! Shrak! Shrak!

Again with the PPCs firing in quick succession as if it were an autocannon or something. His Dragon flinched back from the combined kinetic and thermal damage as if an animal wincing in pain. His autocannon returned with snap fire in vain against that weight of assault mech armor, but -

Shrak! Shrak! Shrak!

His cockpit blared with warnings about armor loss.

"What is happening-?" How did everything lead to this?

SLDF doctrine had always been about having as many options as possible. The Draconis Combine had welded itself culturally into the doctrine of all-out-attack to achieve local force superiority and crush the enemy in the decisive battle.

Superior technology and firepower was not enough to win battles.

But they sure helped.

Shrak! Shrak! Shrak!

"What-"

In his confusion, only that word kept repeating in his mind until the armor was breached and his reactor lost containment. Thoughts of ejection never entered the ruddy fog of his mind until it was too late. He died never knowing about the Rotary Light PPC.


-.
-.


Ehrenburg Firebase
Near The Firth
New Aberdeen

Yasneyev Georgi zoomed in with his mech's secondary cameras at a group of infantry. They had anti-mech SRM launchers but were pointed away from the Kurita mechs. They looked up at the ridges and the open field beyond the valley, anywhere but the Kurita mechs.

Troops on perimeter patrol marched crisply and with purpose, with minimal waste of energy. They were tense, but motivated.

Too motivated.

He sucked in his breath as he realized what had been screaming wrongness into his subconscious thus far. Kuritan infantry, long the much abused child of the DCMS, never exhibited initiative. Discipline in the Draconis Combine Mustered Soldiery meant brutal suppression of any disobedient individual thought. These infantry did not exhibit the any of the expected battle-worn malaise of a battalion so beaten down to the dregs they feared the open sky.

The Overlord Dropship powered up.

"It's a trap!" Georgi screamed as he fired upon the mechs in front.

The Spider from before dived and then scampered for cover behind the standing lances of Kurita mechs. Most of them were merely unpiloted shells, too damaged inside to repair. The three that were still usable, fired back a single volley and similarly scooted for cover.

Then then Overlord's many guns slammed into Georgi. LRMs, PPCs, autocannons, lasers; his Dragon was just cut in half. Half-melted pieces scraped against the armor of the stunned bodyguard mechs around him.

Over the weeks, although Badnik Company could savage the 2nd Galedon's 3rd Battalion out in the open, the base and the Overlord was not something they could crack with their light mechs.

In many ways, a Light Horse regiment or Davion RCT was weaker than a standard Kurita regiment. They wasted transport tons on infantry and vehicles that could have been more Battlemechs instead. A Light Horse regiment was pathetic by DCMS standards, lacking sheer concentration of force and can only harass and run and prefer to fight enemies that they could outweigh.

Allwine Battalion wasted valuable dropship carry capacity on sixteen APCs, with only one battlemech company instead of normally three in a battalion.

But there was one thing a mechanized infantry company could do that a mech-heavy force could not.

Assault and seize dropships with their hundred twenty men.

Barbara's Badnik Company had weeks to listen in and decrypt Kurita transmissions with their Super Comms Guard Urbanmechs. A microdrone slipped in to physically tap the electrical lines of the base to turn them into receivers, while other stealthed recon drones recorded all happenings. The ELH didn't even question how the communication systems could imitate voices with enough sampling. That was just the sort of technological wizardy the SLDF used to be capable of, they reckoned.

Now disc-shaped things flung themselves into the sky from behind the ridgeline. Land-Air-Mechs were normally easy prey for ASFs. They were barely air-to-air maneuverable. The pair of Kurita ASFs circling overhead tried to outmaneuver at least a dozen ADA Arrow missiles from Super Urbanmech AIV and eight Urbanmech LAM's Air-to-Air Arrow IVs fired from their two internal bomb bays.

They failed. The Kurita fighters dropped as flaming wreckage into the confused mill of Georgi company.

Arrows and PPCs rained down from the ridge and Inferno SRMs streaked up from the trenches. The Urbanmech LAMs landed to sling more ER Laser Laser fire along the path of retreat.

More Mechs powered up from reactor shutdown behind false, magscan shielded cover. Allwine Battalion had landed with what looked to be utility industrialmechs, 15 tons each packed among cargo. With arms capable of hauling ammo bins and reloading missile cells, it was not unusual to see twenty of them working around a base.

It was just that they also happened to have ER Large Lasers for faces.

Barbara Mosley cackled like some some demented coyote as the Dragons all burned in a web of her own making.

The Eridani Light Horse had taken over the Overlord Dropship Bialistock DAYS AGO.

-.
-.

Elsewhere in the skies, 4th Deneb fighters had finally baited the 2nd Galedon fighters into the range of air defense artillery. Flak and ground-to-air missiles slapped them out of the sky. The plan had always been to allow the 2nd Galedon to land. Now that those dropships were landed, the main thing was to keep them from leaving.

Overlords were quite valuable prizes.

Barbara Mosley would then be allowed to paint three Overlord or cracked eggs dropship kill/capture tallies on her mech, right next to the black spider. The legend of the donkey's behind grew, to her continuing consternation.

"UNICOOOORRRNNN!!!"

"Bad-ass."

-.
-.

But what about Epsilon Regiment and the rest of the 4th Deneb?

Kaplan had no confidence that two Deneb battalions versus Wolf's Dragoons' heavyweight Epsilon Regiment would fare as well, no matter what trickery in place. The Eridani Light Horse's 21st Strikers mediumweight regiment had another thing going for them entirely.

 

[bluepencil]

Ehh, screw it.

Or if you like all-laser loadout:

This was inevitable.

 

[bluepencil]

 

[bluepencil]

We have been calling it the Super Urbanmech for long yet only now do we do this.

 

[bluepencil]

The World Egg 01



Colchester
Crucis March
Federated Suns
16 February 3025

Seen one military base, seen them all. Natasha Kerensky walked through the base up to the second floor of a prefab. Guards were posted at regular intervals, enough that she didn't need an active armed escort. She did still have a guide though.

Natasha Kerensky had never been intimidated nor impressed meeting with any of the Inner's Sphere's ruling nobility or their generals. Fortunately such encounters were also rare unless she was shooting at them. Her uncompromising punk rock aesthetic compromised nowhere, not even in the middle of grand ballrooms and dining halls.

In the Clan homeworlds, she had continually been passed for bids simply because she was too good of a pilot. Natasha Kerensky was the only bloodnamed warrior to volunteer for this effort of infiltrating the Inner Sphere. The Clans saw the Inner Sphere ruled by their carrion lords as weak, degenerate, and corrupting. Ironic, she thought - now that she had come to live in the Inner Sphere for a decade, she could see just how much bigger yet oddly limited was the thinking of the Lords. In the Inner Sphere of a thousand worlds, they did not need to manufacture reasons to make war a constant and admirable state of being. In the homeworlds, she was being held back due to jealousy by her superiors. For all the martial advantages that their genetic selection and iron wombs may claim to give, Natasha could see now that the Clans never thought beyond the next few fights.

In the Inner Sphere, everybody was born through natural means, so she only had to deal with stupid archaic nonsense somehow that being a woman meant she was less of a warrior. But once inside a mech, nothing in the meat mattered except the will, the skill, and the ability to endure. She stared back evenly, noting the mild displeasure on Armstrong's relatively young face. She did come close to wiping out Stedman's company after all, she supposed. The Eridani Light Horse were good, but not that good.

Surprisingly, Natasha felt no anger at Barbara Mosley for… not being able to give as good as she gotten? Been got? Natasha sniffed. Mosley had made it clear that it was a battle of *systems*, and the ELH was fighting in a way that made simple tonnage less relevant. Only time would tell if that would hold true, as there were many out there who could scoff at the notion of a technological advantage.

"The right man at the right place is worth a hundred men out of position," she heard from a little lower beside her.

She looked down towards the young teenage boy in a ELH cadet dress uniform walking beside her. The boy held a smug 'That was what you were thinking of, right?' look on his face.

"Do you just randomly burst out aphorisms?" she asked with another disdainful sniff.

"Yes," was the simple reply.

Natasha abruptly felt that talking to this kid would be like talking to a brick wall. In those gray eyes there was the surety of a zealot and the confidence of the utterly ignorant.

Soon enough they were at the door to the brigade commander's office. "Cadet Devlin Stone! Presenting Captain Natasha Kerensky, as ordered, sir!"

"At ease." Nathan Armstrong gestured to a chair. "Please sit."

Natasha sat down while Cadet Stone stood off to the side in a parade rest. She faced Armstrong with all the calm reticence of… a stone, some might say.

After a while, the general sighed. "I would like to say that it's an honor, but we both would rather prefer if this whole thing didn't have happen."

Natasha made no response.

"Some believe that prisoners of war have a duty to escape, if not at least to make life more difficult for their captors. It would be… unproductive… for both the Light Horse and the Dragoons if you tried something pointless like that. Are we going to have that problem, Natasha Kerensky?"

Natasha replied "Not as for as long as you work to get us returned to Wolf's Dragoons as soon as possible."

"Very good. Thank you. Before we begin – you mentioned something about Mosley accepting the Black Widows Company as her bondmen. What does that mean?"

"Nothing," Natasha replied with cool confidence. "That is just the concussion talking. I may have completely forgotten about the word for 'guarantor'."

"Bonds as in bail, right? A bondsman is someone that acts as surety to the court that the prisoner will not escape. That sounds… likely."

Natasha nodded.

"Technically it should be Mosley that should be the bondsman, isn't that right?"

Natasha shrugged minutely. "Well if she were ever my bondswoman I would make sure to treat her nicely, you do not have to worry about that." That feeling of strong and sure death at the time now mystified her. There was nothing special about Barbara Mosley. She had for the moment felt that the whole universe turned around herself and agreed that if she ever had the best time to die, it would have been in that moment.

"Mmm." Armstrong leaned back on his chair. "Well, getting you back to the Dragoons might take some time. We know how far Wolf's Dragoons will go to make sure no one tries to take their people hostage again. This is not that situation.

"However, while the death of Anton Marik might say that even the main line of Great Houses are not safe from the Dragoons' revenge… look, the Draconis Combine and House Kurita are not going to care. This is why we are effectively insulating both House Davion and House Kurita from the equation. We will hand Dragoons POWs off to Jaime Wolf, personally, on our own ships and down to our own vehicles on the tarmac, on a neutral world.

"You have more to fear from the ISF trying to assassinate you to weaken the Dragoons. If they cannot have you, they will just kill you to deny you to their enemies. Their collective ego will not allow being made to look weak and dependent on mere mercenaries. This is no conjecture. This is an inevitability."

Armstrong then shook his head sadly. "You should have interacted with enough of their officers by now – anything they can't reconcile to their world-view that leads to their inevitable domination of the Inner Sphere, they will just reject. Individuals can have honor in the Combine, but the Combine itself is built on devouring anything in its reach. It knows neither mercy nor compunction."

"Is House Davion actually any better? Is any House any better?" Kerensky replied. "The business of the mercenary comes from their constant need to take worlds and avenge insults. The fact that House Kurita seeks to conquer on basis on strength alone is no different from the justifications of anyone else on supposed moral grounds."

Armstrong snapped his fingers and pointed at Devlin Stone.

The boy responded "Very few polities are known for having such a deep record of playing fuck-fuck games as House Kurita. You should really know better than to expect anything different to come out of mountains of prior evidence."

By the grimace on Armstrong's face, he had expected something different. Perhaps a trite slogan masquerading as wisdom or something.

"Fine. Be that as it may, it is not as if Colonel Wolf is unaware of this. Is that all you wanted to say?"

"No. Natasha Kerensky, are you really prepared to just sit for months in a jail cell? Your men could return to the Dragoons as soon as they are able, but you – we would prefer to actually keep you."

Natasha's eyes narrowed dangerously.

He quickly added "For at least three months. The SLDF initiated the Gunslinger program in the hidden yet frantic realization that their pilots were not actually better than the mechwarriors of House Kurita, and in fact in duels were at best able to maintain an even tie. We want that. We would like to run a Gunslinger Program of our own to crash-train our recruits to a high level of skill… and it just so happened that someone known for training up a random bunch of rejects into an elite fighting company fell into our hands. There is no better possibility for an opfor trainer in the entire Inner Sphere.

"We already know that the Wolf's Dragoons are training a Kuritan regiment that could fight flexibly in their way, the Ryuken.

"Natasha Kerensky, if you would give your sworn word not to try to break parole, it would be better for all of us if you didn't just waste weeks or months away in a jail cell writing your memoirs or something. We would pay you and your company by the same rates as the Dragoons during this time, and we would expedite getting your crew back home if you can give us those three months. We may be opponents here, but we are not exactly enemies."

Natasha furrowed her brows. The ELH were offering her a way out of the hell of being benched again. That was an interesting proposal, but it might look badly upon the Dragoons if it got back to House Kurita. Being paid of it also added the smell of treason. She shook and her head and prepared to refuse.

Nathan Armstrong clasped both palms together into a single fist and leaned on his elbows on the table. "Think of it this way – when, not if, WHEN the Combine finally betrays you and tries to strike at your dependents, there is a force that can appear just suddenly somewhere else to relieve the pressure. Don't count on Davion to swoop in past the border and play the hero, in the end Davion only plays to their own interests. We just have a deep personal grudge against the Draconis Combine. We believe that the fall of the Star League and the death of the Terran Hegemony can directly be blamed on House Kurita. House Kurita had always worked to destabilize the Star League as force that as much as it brought peace and progress to the rest of the Inner Sphere, stymied their ambitions to supremacy.

"When the Usurper took Terra, Minoru Kurita refused to allow the SLDF to use worlds as bases of operations to shorted the war. He refused personally a request by Colonel Bradley, of the 3rd​ Regimental Combat Team, for us to do so. We have a strong suspicion that it was a member of the ISF that tipped off the plans our 19th Striker Regiment, leading to the loss of that regiment that we mourn even today."

He glanced aside for a moment. "Stone?"

The boy coughed into his fist and recited:

"From the personal diary of Takiro Kurita, entry dated June 2751 -

My private audience with General Aleksandr Kerensky
did not turn out exactly as I had hoped. He refused to stop
his military maneuvers near Luthien. This displeases me
much, and so I have ordered as many ISF agents as can be
spared to infiltrate the Regular Army. We must have an
earlier warning the next time General Kerensky decides to
try to bully the Draconis Combine. Not only will he fail to get
his way, but his military exercises might have to be
postponed in favor of defending his very life.

Why so many people are so pleased to hear that he
has been appointed Regent and Protector is mystery. He is
a soldier. An excellent one, true, but a soldier nevertheless.
It is doubtful that he will stray too far from what Simon
Cameron would have wished. If he were truly as good as
everyone claims, he would take his power as Regent and
rule as First Lord until the boy Richard comes of age.

Even now, it seems that the young Cameron lacks the
inner authority to rule effectively-not ten years from now,
not twenty, not thirty years from now. We will have no choice
but to gut the Star League once and for all."

For a moment, Natasha Kerensky's eyes burned at the insults and the easy threat of ambush and assassination against The Great Father her namesake.

Nathan Armstrong continued "We think that the Combine is a brittle society that pretends to strength – when faced with something that can outfight the way they spend lives on the battlefield, they will shatter. They are a drawn sword extended as far as it possibly can – any more and they will just expose their own throat to the enemy."

Natasha Kerensky treated his grandiose words with something akin to pity "And what are aiming to accomplish with three regiments? I respect that the Eridani Light Horse are excellent at war, but you are still just a Light Horse Regiment. No matter how much you want to wound House Kurita -"

"Five. We have the men and materiel to build up five regiments, right now. We can go as far as we can with only three Light Horse Regiments because we spend careful time training our men, but we don't exactly have a way to crash-train troops to a high level without removing troops from the operational tempo. As I said before, we have the means, what we don't have is a challenging enough OPFOR, and we are not insane like Kurita to go for live-fire training campaign like what they did with the Second Galedon on New Aberdeen."

Armstrong gestured to the map of the Inner Sphere, and its four large quadrants with the tail of House Liao below, which had roughly remained the same for half a millennium, half of humanity's history in space. "House Kurita is large and strong, but because of that they have shatterpoints. One of these days House Kurita is going to provoke us enough that we might just end up doing our own version of MacCarron's Long March on the way to Luthien."

A small smile graced Natasha Kerensky lips. Well then! If only she had known earlier that the Eridani Light Horse actually had the balls to be more than setpiece soldiers, seemingly moved without their own will by the House Lords they served. They liked to pretend to be the most studious of soldiers, more like actors in a play than warriors, holding respect and fealty to a flag they never really knew or experienced.

They were just castoffs of the Star League, not Children of Kerensky.

But if they were actually like this in the privacy of their own home, that was respectable. A warrior needed drive to live as much a mech needed the heat of born starfire within its fusion engine.

Armstrong continued "But of course, as you are a POW, being given access to live mechs and ammunition comes with some conditions."

"Tch. I understand." Natasha uncrossed her arms. "What else do you want? You will not attempt to get any information about the Dragoons from me, or the whole thing is off. Immediately I will stop the first time this happens."

"Please give some latitude to stupid soldiers and scuttlebutt, but we will be assigning minders for that exact purpose. You should not be bothered unnecessarily. As much as you might not care to trust these words, we of the Eridani Light Horse don't actually care about Wolf's Dragoon's inner workings or their mysterious source of supplies."

Stone, behind Kerensky, fluttered his fingers and made "woo-eee-wooo" noises.

Armstrong gave him a scathing glare. The boy stood back into attention "Apologies, sir!"

The general turned back to Kerensky and with a much put-upon tone added "We would like to have your lessons plans repeatable and testable, so as much as possible we would like to have it done that a child could understand them. So to fill out your company, we will be assigning you a lance of… almost literal children, to prove the methodology starting from practically nothing."

Natasha's eye narrowed again. That was close enough to sibko training that it was doable, and guaranteed a hassle.

Armstrong gestured with his left hand "You get Stone as your permanent adjutant while under ELH custody. We deeply apologize for the inconvenience."

The boy raised his hand, arm up straight and rigid as post, like a student eagerly asking to be called up "I am Combat Ready!"

Armstrong closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he opened them again, showing only the tiredness of command. "If nothing else, Natasha Kerensky, you are dismissed. You may confer with your troops and visit the medical section if you wish." He looked over Natasha's shoulder again and rubbed at bridge of his nose. "And Stone…? Go away and go adjute."

Devlin Stone thumped his right fist to his left chest in a Roman salute. "BY YOUR COMMAND!"

Natasha Kerensky leaned back and her expression buckled. Were the Eridani Light Horse actually like this? Is this actually their own great big secret?

---------


Harrow's Sun
Draconis March
04 March 3025

While the Second Galedon were predicted to be landing on New Aberdeen, despite their relative proximity of a single Jump to Harrow's Sun from Misery, the Epsilon Regiment had delayed their assault by several days from simultaneous assault. This was enough time to affect some repairs to damages suffered by Charlie Battallion on New Aberdeen and to meet with the command staff to mull over what new tactics to expect from the Eridani Light Horse.

If the ELH were in a position to reinforce New Aberdeen, then of course they also have the time window to deliver forces to Harrow's Sun.

Epsilon Regiment was one of the Wolf's Dragoon's crack frontline regiments, and while the 4th​ Deneb was a fighter-heavy regiment supported by AFFS fighters on a moon base, the Dragoons carried with them two Overlord-class Dropships – the Hawken and the Ise, a Fortress-class – the Osu, and three Union-class DropShips – the Hebrides, the Sunniva, and the Mt. Suribachi, all on one Star Lord-class JumpShip. An Invader-class JumpShip with a two Titans and a Mule lent from the Dragoons' naval support contingent rounded out the force.

All combined with their ASF bays and strong armor and weaponry, this was a powerful force that could easily punch through or eliminate entirely wings of defensive fighters and land anywhere they wished. Despite the size of the force, this was a regimental scale raid aiming to destroy or salvage as much of the military infrastructure as possible to weaken the way for a later invasion by the Combine. At the very least, that AFFS aerospace base on Bane would need to be leveled utterly and their two wings of fighters eradicated.

Civilian jumpships nervously tried to look innocuous or hurried their charging under the shadow of this naked military power. DropShips on approach to the zenith jump point urgently declared their status as harmless non-combatants. They kept these messages on a loop.

Onboard the Star Lord-class JumpShip, Dragoons astrogation monitored all system traffic. Unlike the vastness of space and the random emergence points of JumpShips, it was easy to pinpoint a world and notice orbital activity around it. The interaction of light, radiation, and EM signatures revealed significant large masses in between the world of Harrow's Sun and its two moons Boon and Bane.

"There are ships around the planet, sir," the JumpShip Captain reported to Colonel Arthbutnot. "At first we thought they were more fighter-carrier dropships, but spectral analysis shows they're fully-loaded JumpShips. High possibility Star Lord and three Merchants. Someone did a jump into a pirate point."

"Impressive. But unnecessary!" replied Arthbutnot. "They already had a week's advantage over us, their carriers could have reached the world well before we arrived." He adjusted his eyeglasses and smiled toothily. "If the ponies did manage to bring more fighters, well then gentlemen and ladies- we have a good fight of it!"

 

[bluepencil]

The World Egg 02



New Avalon
Crucis March
Federated Suns
17 March 3025


Ardan Sortek normally by this time would be considering resigning from the Davion Heavy Guards into command of a more deployable frontline force. Knowing about Liao's inbound perfidy, he still wanted to move his command towards the Capellan March, but that was Duke Hasek-Davion's territory. He was a sword, he supposed – and Hanse was a dagger – and it helped them none for him to be in disgust at the self-serving politics of court then only to move towards a region that needed political as much as military finesse. He no longer had the excuse of randomly flailing around trying to escape from politics would help things.

Michael Hasek-Davion was extremely popular in the Capellan March as the stalwart defender against House Liao, and Hanse Davion a far removed ruler more concerned with the closer Draconis March. Were it not for Duke Hasek-Davion, the Capellan March would get the dregs of support from the AFFS. The notion that he might be conspiring with Maximilian Liao for grand treason was unthinkable. Therefore, any orders that came from Hasek-Davion's hands had to be carefully viewed for what was beneath the underneath. Ardan's skull already ached well in advance trying to imagine working for someone that actively yet subtly wanted you dead.

But because the Draconis Combine was in truth the much larger threat, the Davion Heavy Guards could not be so easily deployed. Maximilian Liao had been counting on his obvious dissatisfaction with being on New Avalon to trigger the plot to discredit him as delusional in the event of OPERATION DOPPELGANGER.

He and Quintus Allard had been considering doing this anyway – that is, go to the Capellan border and fight, not to allow Hanse to be replaced - because otherwise Michael Hasek-Davion would have free reign over the deployment and spin any losses as a lack of support from New Avalon.

Once more, Ardan wondered- why can't people who have all the power and privilege just be content? What is more that they need that they would entertain treason and murder and kinslaying just to be able to wear the crown? Does Michael really think he could do a better job than Hanse, after betraying the people of the Federated Suns to its ancestral enemies? What could make all this waste worth it?

Hanse being replaced and interrogated was no longer an option due to the extremely sensitive information he now possessed regarding the possible return of the SLDF.

The Eridani Light Horse's Wandering Horse was of no help, they had already given their warning and Davion intelligence could not be so incompetent to fail to follow through. Only Hanse Davion could decide this, the ELH had no business butting in any further without overstepping their boundaries as retainers.

Ardan supposed that they were more concerned with House Kurita and Wolf's Dragoons. That was fine. That was part of the reason he had been drilling his regiment of the Royal Guards in formations that imitated the Dragoons.

In a conversation with Ren Felsner, the actual Field Marshal in command over the entire Davion Royal Brigade of Guards and known for his unorthodox strategies, it was suggested that part of the reason that the Dragoons get so far is that they are a Dragoons regiment with a heavy concentration of force. They break their opponent's will to fight sooner than the weight of numbers could matter.

When directly asked by Sortek what he felt about other mercenaries like the Eridani Light Horse, Felsner admitted that he didn't see much to admire about mercenaries in general, though he supposed that the difference was that an old-model RCT like theirs - that mixed combined arms within a regiment instead of separate mech, armor, infantry and air regiments - could move and be deployed faster. If you only had a regiment in situ to work with, then they were of course more flexible.

But they did nothing all that new. The SLDF was good, but one had to remember that the Star League came about as an alternative to the Age of War before it – the Federated Suns too had been fighting for almost a thousand years by now. There was nothing inherently special about SLDF doctrine, it was their wealth of resources and the decisiveness by which they applied it that mattered.

The Dragoons were good, but throw an entire RCT at them, he still put his faith in the Davion Guards. The Eridani Light Horse? They were impressive mainly in how they could do so much with so little.

"In a straight fight, I wouldn't hesitate to match a good Davion regiment against anyone," Felsner finished.

That was not as comforting to Sortek as he had hoped.

Then rumor came down that the Eridani Light Horse had beaten the entire 2nd Galedon Regulars and the entire Wolf's Dragoons Epsilon regiment with minimal losses and that was even more disturbing. That was mind-boggling levels of improvement compared to their mauling on Hoff when they first matched against the Dragoons. He would not so candidly imagine even the Heavy Guards to get through without sustaining appreciable losses. Was there something that the AFFS could use? The ELH had already given up so much, why should they be expected to share even more of their doctrine?

Yet if they didn't in order to keep their advantages, was not that a hint that they expected they might have to turn against their patrons in the future?

Then he got personally got word from Hanse that Nathan Armstrong had requested another audience.

While not as giddy as Hanse, he wondered what the SLDF was up to today.

--
--

"You beautiful person! You bunch of magnificent equus!" Hanse bellowed as Nathan Armstrong entered the room. "I heard what you did! How I wish I could hear Takashi Kurita howl!"

Armstrong nodded gracefully and inserted a holotape into the waiting projector. "Thank you. But it was not just us, it was in cooperation with the 4th Deneb and our 21st Striker Regiment. We can't do that too often."

"Why not?"

The holo showed a model of the Scout II JumpShip paired with two Dictator-class spheroid DropShips. "Because our jumpships look too much like penises as it is."

"But… all jumpships already all look like penises," Ardan mumbled, then slapped his face as he realized what he was saying. Objectively true, and yet…

Hanse chortled. Ah, how they did not disappoint. The ELH's non-sequitur ways of avoiding answering a question about their real capabilities had an almost comedic timing. Did they practice this?

The First Prince of the Federated Suns lounged back on his chair, years of stress melting off his face. "So, you mentioned you wanted something? Removing two regiments from House Kurita is a significant contribution, they only have around eighty of them."

Ardan wondered if Hanse was trying to downplay it to remind the ELH to maintain a humble big picture mindset, or if it really was that significant. Like a leaky dam, the collapse always starts with something small and untreated.

Armstrong nodded, apparently not offended at all. "That is why I am here to ask about how we… or you… are doing with those Scout II jumpship plans. We also want to buy up as many DroST hulls we can get."

"Drost? The DropShip-Tank?" Ardan echoed. "Aren't they obsolete?" The DroST was a line of vehicles that were a precursor to modern dedicated military DropShips. They were capable of landing and taking off vertically due to large fusion thrusters on pivoting wing assemblies, but those same assemblies also made them more complicated and vulnerable in combat. They were now mainly produced as civilian transports instead of hauling tanks and infantry as the SLDF originally intended. "I suppose they are six thousand tons compared to a Leopard's one thousand nine hundred, if you ever need to haul something with an aerodyne."

He glanced towards the image on the holo, and his eyes widened. "Wait, do you mean to turn them into Assault DropShips too?" That was the sort of extensive rebuild that takes shipyards years to accomplish! It would often be faster to purpose-build something based on a more modern hull, like Avenger or the Achilles; the latter which at 4500 tons and a safe thrust of 4 gravities was the closest thing to a WarShip that Inner Sphere still possessed.

"Done," said Hanse. "But I have a feeling this isn't what you came here for. You could just easily posted this on official channels. What do you really want that only my authority as First Prince could give you?"

"Indeed. As you should have already been informed, we are expanding our force first to four regiments, then five. Personnel is an issue. But we cannot just simply start recruiting drives for mercenaries and volunteers again. This will only fill up the needs for the short term, we need a sustainable in-house source of replacement and reinforcement," said Armstrong.

"Mmm. So what are you proposing?"

Armstrong made the holo show the Federated Suns territories, and the large rear region that was mostly undeveloped and undefended. "Two things. First – we heard about the problem with your Vagabond Schools – those repurposed freighters that travel to the Outback where the educational facilities and standards are so poor that it is more worthwhile to pack up a region's 12-to-13 year old youths to a JumpShip and study there for nine months of intensive education. The problem is that they are so old that these JumpShips are so old that they can't even be used for freighter duties, and they are prone to deadly accidents. And that you only have ten of them to serve scores, if not hundreds of worlds."

"Yes. If the Federated Suns were a military dictatorship, an uneducated citizenry would be beneficial. But we are just starved to address the needs of the Ministry of Education. You are right to presume that this is a JumpShip capacity problem – we can only do so much to spread around our limited number of teachers, and without enough jumpships educational and employment opportunities of even the most promising youths left undiscovered and limited to their backwater of a world." Hanse rubbed at his nose. "Are you proposing we start filtering new Scout IIs first into the Vagabond schools? I agree that they have a bigger, more comfortable grav deck and they seem built to serve long-duration independent cruises. We haven't even started trying to remake Merchants into Scout II lines though."

"The first and second requests I have are related to this issue. This is actually suggested by my wife, who is the head of our civilian division. If the Eridani Light Horse are no longer content to hide our light under a bushel, then it stands to reason that we ought to meaningfully help make the Inner Sphere better, not just slowing its bleeding out by fighting and killing. Be like vitamins instead of just antibodies. Therefore Eridani Light Horse would like to contribute JumpShips to this endeavor. You just supply the DropShips and the teachers."

"Wait. Contribute?" Ardan held up his hand. "Where are you even getting those ships? Do you mean… it's done?! You have been reinforced?!"

Armstrong clapped his palms together and bowed. "Greetings and salutations from the Declan Blacksite. It is live. If you send anyone to snoop over there, they will die. Thank you for your generous cooperation, my lord Davion."

"Heh. Who actually is the one that pays in this relationship? But if you're willing to do this, obviously there is a string attached. Out with it, man!" Hanse gestured snappily.

Armstrong shrugged helplessly. "Well you how the Eridani Light Horse's reverence for the Star League and styling ourselves as its legitimate remnants can be called costume play or even cult-like by some-"

"Hah. Are you supposed to just say that?" Hanse snorted with amusement.

Armstrong continued "We would like to start recruiting efforts under the banner of the Star League and with all the rights normally enjoyed by the SLDF. Namely, that each ELH JumpShip or installation counts as independent territory and consulate, and that once people sign up to the Eridani Light Horse they surrender ties to their former nation and citizenship and accept the authority of the SLDF in primacy over their lives and livelihood above all else for the duration of their enlistment."

Hanse pointed "Ahaha. Ha. That is big. It is a magnificently huge favor you are asking compared to just some ships. You know I cannot simply cast aside citizenship of the people of the Federated Sons. It would be tantamount to having a potentially hostile nation inside my borders." It was a testament to just how much Hanse was delighted by the Light Horse's actions that he did not take it as an insult.

Armstrong shrugged. "More like an enclave. It is not as if this is new. This was how the SLDF and the Star League operated before."

Hanse jabbed his finger with each point "But the difference is that the Star League is gone and you are not actually the SLDF, and if even so we would need renegotiate the whole thing instead of proceeding from expired agreements with a dead polity, and most importantly - you are still under the employment of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns."

Armstrong nodded. "Yes. Which is why we would only be recruiting under the name of the Eridani Light Horse and associated support services for now. The primacy of mutually equivalent SLDF law which inside these territories, and a process of extradition for what breaks the laws of the Federated Suns. Those who seek political asylum may find a place here. Nothing in force just of yet, but maybe eventually dual citizenship?"

Hanse smirked and leaned his chin on his wrists. "Oh? Dual citizenship with *what*, I dare ask."

Armstrong shrugged again. "If I say 'Terran Hegemony'" here he made air quotes "then Comstar would start screaming like lunatics."

"They're not the only ones with a reason to be unnerved at hearing that!"

-.
-.

WDS HAWKEN
Harrow's Sun
Draconis March
07 March 3025

The Dragoon's Epsilon Regiment combined naval force was about halfway to Harrow's Sun II. The captain of the WDS HAWKEN reported to Arthbutnot "Sir, we have drive signatures. Sensors report what may be a Vengeance escorted by two lighter dropships, possibly Avengers or Leopards, coming from the moon named Bane. And from the pirate point – four dropships, possibly Overlord-class. Approach velocity one point five gee, intercept in two days, six hours."

The colonel frowned. After the initial hail by the ELH commander in the system, Charles Winston of the 21st Strikers for the Dragoons to "cease their attack, turn around, and leave" which he had summarily ignored, there had been no communications.

The AFFS had two fighter wings on Deneb, which meant two 20-unit groups, or enough to support being a regimental wing for an RCT and one for the home guard. The Dragoons had brought three wings into this fight.

Unless the ELH brought multiple wings on those Overlords… but then that raises the question – where would the ELH find enough ASFs and pilots in the first place? And four of them?

Only now it was starting to feel strange that the 4th Deneb would willingly relinquish command authority over the defense of their homeworld to newcomers like the ELH. Numbers alone did not mean the absorption of command rights for the smaller force.
The Fourth Deneb were also known for assault boarding operations.

Arthbutnot sucked in his breath and growled. Yes that was the most likely outcome. Why allow the enemy to land at all? An Overlord could support many Small Craft and substantial boarding parties. He went over to the communications officer and bid him to open a regimental comms channel. They only had so much time to prepare, but the ELH 21st and the 4th Deneb were vastly underestimating them if they chose to rely on these tricks.

-.

WDS HAWKEN
09 March 3025

Red battle lights and alarms rang through the bridge. The communications officer announced "All hands to battle stations. Aerospace Fighters launching. All hands prepare for zero-g maneuvers."

The engines of the Overlord suddenly cut off, and the ship began to coast along on its stored momentum. Lacking the acceleration provided by the constant thrust, now everything suddenly became weightless even as the craft maintained significant forward velocity.

AeroSpace Fighters, mainly Stukas, released from the Hawken's bays. More of the Dragoon's fighters began launching as well from their fighter-carrier, while the Union DropShips moved to the shadow of the pair of Overlords.

Up ahead, the battle map showed the Deneb Vengeance dropship releasing its own cloud of fighters, while from the Overlords four fighters each emerged to escort their mothership. Hm. Normally an Overlord carried six.

Buckled into his seat and wearing a bulky and space suit, Arthbutnot could only scowl. All of the naval command staff were wearing space suits, while the rest of Able Battalion would only sit blindly and helplessly in their crash couches or belted into their beds while the ship fought a space battle. He could contribute nothing to this fight as either a commander or a warrior.

The combat map showed two waves of fightercraft about to meet each other.

"Enemy contact in five, four, three, two – fighters engaged."

The neat lines immediately collapsed into a confused tangle of BVR fights. Fighter combat was not a matter of senses, but of fingers on computers shooting at distant and near invisible blips on a screen, and pitting the need for evasive maneuvers against being able to hold a lock.

C-beams glittered in the dark in front of Harrow's Sun.

Something scraped against the side of the HAWKEN and it was as if the whole ship screamed.

 

[bluepencil]

The World Egg 03


Declan
Abandoned System
Federated Suns
Date Unknown

With a sound roughly like a "*WVORP!*, vibrating across the hull and carried by the hot flash of suddenly vaporized and displaced ambient space gases, with the paradoxical sight of what looks like coruscating glass shards unbreaking itself - the SLS ARENDAL resolved back into normal space.

"Sensors confirm. G3V class system, six planets. Matching stellar charts. It is the Declan star system."

The captain of the ship scowled. "I am never going to get used to that. Being able to go anywhere in the Inner Sphere in one jump. It is weird. It is unnatural. And I want it off my ship."

Nathan Armstrong sucked in his breath. "This is magic. I wasn't sure if I believed it, but… nothing made by man could do this."

Beside him, Andrei Posseli waggled his mustache and grinned. "It could still be aliens though, sir."

Everyone else groaned. Everybody remaining in the JumpShip's skeleton crew had already been briefed to the real situation. This was likely to be the last journey of the ARENDAL.

"Drive flares detected! Ships on intercept!" the Radar Officer announced. "Distance five hundred thousand klicks!"

The main screen showed white and checkered gray bulbous ships on the approach, burning white-hot fusion rocket trails. The dome-like head and the long thin body marked them as Scout JumpShips. But the track showed that they were accelerating at the equivalent of 3 gravities.

A Scout JumpShip was one of the very few JumpShips actually capable of appreciable in-system movement… but at most .2 gees.

A ship with a JumpDrive core and drop collars reinforced enough to support maneuvering at multiple gravities must by necessity be a Compact Core… and that meant they were WarShip cores.

Davion had checked the system before, right?

Did they actually get away with anything useful or were they just space dust?

The comms chirped with an incoming transmission, which was accepted.

The screen showed a simple robotic face that had a pasted on beard and mustache and a naval hat. "- Hello the Monolith. This is the RNIK Tenderfeets Scout Three Squadron. What do ye here? Do ye be the Eridani Light Horse? We will have no truck with Heavy Horses here, we do not have time for such fodder. - "

"Oh yes!" Andrei Posseli, a man nearly fifty, almost squealed in childish glee. "I missed these sassy robots!"

-.
-.

The Scouts entered a diamond formation around the ELH Monolith.

"Now what?" Armstrong asked Andrei Posseli. "We're still too far out in the system. Do we transfer dropships or head straight to Declan II?"

The engineer, one of only three people to physically meet Doctor Robotnik and the one given the development diary, pointed at the system map. "The Chaos Emerald is too important to be put to somewhere anyone else can get at it. So we're supposed to go to the outermost planet, Declan VI, which is a gas giant. Captain, please plot a short jump."

The Captain grumbled "Plot a short jump like we can't get misjumps anymore. Make it so."

"Wait. Don't we have to wait until the drive core recharges?" Armstrong interjected, befuddled.

Posseli then only pointed to the readout on the main console. [DRIVE CHARGED] blinked back at him.

He said "The Chaos Emerald absorbed and redirected all the energy needed to translate into hyperspace. It's really such a pity that the Chaos Emerald is so dangerous to hold, or that it can only be in one ship at a time, because this means a ship can go anywhere in the galaxy if it wanted to. Instantaneous and unlimited Faster than Light travel. I can understand why this had to be the blackest of projects. Using it for anything other than exploration is a tragic misuse of power."

Armstrong nodded and hummed softly while rubbing his chin. "Mmm. OPERATION SEEDCORN sounds more and more fantastical the more I hear about what it was supposed to do, huh. If the thing is so powerful that it can do this, the more dangerous it sounds making contact with another civilization that does make open use of its power."

"Well, General?" the Captain asked idly, turning around on his chair.

"Ah. Right. You may proceed."

The Navigator looked to the left, to the right, into each the eyes of the bridge crew looking for assurance. Even though they had just survived an impossible jump, it was hard to shake the long-held knowledge that you could only safely jump to a gravity-neutral zone. Into the orbit of a gas giant was the exact opposite of that.

Slowly the Navigator made the calculations and shakily input the numbers. Then she said "Coordinates fixed. Pilot, you may engage the Jump at your discretion."

"Jump warning. Jump warning. Hyperspace Jump in three. Two. One- "

The ship began to glitter with breaking spacetime. Tendrils of fractal lightning grabbed at the surrounding vessels.

*FWORP*

-.

*FWORP*

The entire formation emerged back out into realspace. The angry orange-red hues of the gas giant Declan VI loomed overhead.

Everyone let out a sigh of relief.

"I could get really used to that…" the Navigator said softly. "Man, it sucks *we* can't go exploring instead."

"To boldly go where no man, or mech, or hardboiled egg, has gone before…" said Posseli. He turned to Nathan Armstrong. "Now, the obvious thing is to put it on a rocky world so it can mine for metals, but gas giants may also have a metallic core."

"Can the Death Egg survive that?"

"No of course not sir. It's going to splatter inwards like, well, an egg. But it should last long enough for the programmed behaviors the good Doctor put into the nanolathe to activate and get to the second part of the plan. But it's still not too late to prefer landing on a more conventional hospitable world and have the Chaos Emerald available."

Armstrong shook his head. "No. The temptation is too strong. Let's do this and get our ships."

"Aye sir. You hear that, chief?" Posseli then addressed the open comms to the Death Egg. "We are good to go for OPERATION EGGDROP."

Joseph Kubler responded "- Got it. All remote control systems are online, course set. We are removing ourselves from the ship. Automatic undocking in five minutes. -"

-.

After some time, the Death Egg uncoupled from the Monolith JumpShip and engaged its transit drives. Everyone piled onto the observation deck to the DropShip plunge into the gas giant for its last journey.

For a long while, nothing happened. Armstrong mentioned aloud "Well, if anything else, at least we got three regiments worth of units and supplies and six WarShips out of it." He felt that maybe this would be better. Too much power. Too much magic. Even if Robotnik and Stone trusted the Eridani Light Horse with it, power corrupts. It was better if they had to earn their way through their own sweat and blood.

Davion would just have to be content with the idea that the Terran Hegemony in Exile looked at the situation and called the whole thing off as a lost cause.

And then, the roiling loops and curls of the gas giant began to move faster. Swirls of colors moved out of their bands, combining in some spots and fraying out in others.

Two deep white cyclones the size of whole lesser planets formed on the northern hemisphere, in line with each other. Below, the equator bands ballooned out to either side in spiky whorls. Then below that, an arc of repeating white curls. Two eyes, a mustache, and a grin.

"Jesus Christ-" someone gasped softly in terror and awe.

"No," Posseli and Armstrong said together. "Doctor Robotnik."

Even though all was silent save from the ambient noise of machinery, it was like they could hear a madman's triumphant AHAHAHAHAH through the vacuum of space.

-.
-.

The 'eyes' of the planet glowed green from the inside, and two bright beams lanced out into empty space. The beams continued across half the star system until they hit Declan II.

Clouds parted, the ground broke asunder, and on that distant backwards planet... a Metal Extractor was laid down.

A Kbot Construction Lab was then lathed into existence.

The beam cut off, then the Robotnikied world turned its attention back into nearby space. It lanced eyebeams out into the nothing right ahead of the Monolith.

The eyes of the world changed from green to gold, and bright golden power lanced out into empty space. The beams stopped on empty space as if hitting a solid yet invisible wall, and began to flow like honey. Energy turned into matter. Chaos into form. Potential into purpose.

A great golden ring, many kilometers wide, slowly came into being.

-.
-.

They had by this time relocated to the lead ship of the Scout III WarShips. The whole thing was clean gleaming brand new. It was crewed entirely by robots.

"Ayy, Acting Commodore-Bot asks to be relieved," the robot in command said with a sloppy salute. "This ship only operates at twenty percent efficiency without an organic crew. Make ye be at home, my crew will see to yer needs."

"Where did these ships come from?" Armstrong asked. "How did Robotnik squirrel away a whole fleet of ships?"

"Nay, General. We be a misjump from the future. Also double nay, you canna abuse this."

"But-"

"We tried, General. There be angry time monkeys. The casualties be horrendous. We be seeing your head get put on a pike. Never again."

"…"

The ELH staff walked numbly through the primary corridor. The air tasted sweet, almost like fresh mountain air from pristine filters.

The Scout III WarShip had two counter-rotating 90-meter gravdecks. With extensive automation, it was running with a robot crew of thirty. Officially however it had the cabins for 20 officers, 120 crew (enlisted and gunners), 34 personnel for 12 ASFs in their bays, and 20 passengers and 40 marines. It could support up to twice that number without straining life support. 41 Lifeboats ensured they could abandon ship and burn towards a nearby life-bearing world with room to spare.

Quite a lot for a mere 105,000 ton light escort Q ship. It was suspicious that the ship could serve for evacuation if pressed, but more charitably this also made the Scout a suitable exploration vessel.

"Coffee? Tea? Or whiskey?" Posseli asked Armstrong after they had settled in.

"The strongest they got," the general whispered.

"Irish coffee it is, then." He snapped his fingers and a waiter-bot rolled to attention.

The magnetic rollers of the bots could pass through the ship without care if there was gravity or not, and much faster than any human could move in zero-g. The ship felt more like a hotel than a fully functional WarShip armed with real capital-grade weaponry.

They stared out a nearby porthole in the nautical themed restaurant. The grav deck rotated, so real windows were not only a weak point in the armor but the sight of stars streaming past at a rotation of 4 and 1/2 times per minute could quickly be dizzying. The porthole was a screen sunk into the walls.

Outside they beheld a green glowing outline, slowly filling out with metal. A central half-spherical core surrounded by sunflower-petal sections, growing from the inside out..

A spire rose from the center, and two deep wells like eyes remained sunken as the structure filled up.

After several more minutes, the task was complete. It was like half a moon or a round face with whiskers growing out of the sides.

The deep eye holes glowed green.

The nanolathe wells spun and formed Dropship-sized Construction Vessels. Bee-shaped things flew out and they then begun creating and punting things through the Ring.

"What do you think they're doing now?" Armstrong asked.

"I think they're tossing stealthed HPG stations out into deep space so we can all keep in contact with our Urbanmech HPGs and ship-based HPGs," Posseli answered.

HPGs were point to point transmitters, so in deep space each one had to know where every other HPG would be. On the positive side, in deep space they would also be less impacted by gravity and would never move relative to the star nearby. This also made them impossible to repair, but the fabricators could just chuck another one out there as a replacement.

The general shivered. Awesome.

Behind the station, the Ring of solidifed Chaos Power hung gleaming in space, a circle of bright and purest gold. While a ship could no longer jump with the unlimited range of the Chaos Emerald, tapping the Ring with its drive field would allow it to reach any point in the Inner Sphere or the Periphery.

While range was effectively unlimited, this only applied to going out from Declan blacksite. Anyone wanting to take advantage of this again had to travel all the way back to it.

There were Rings in the usual jump points and gravity neutral lagrange points in the system. Not only could the Rings allow for unlimited range single-use jumps, but also instant passage from one to the other inside the system.

The Rings also projected a Kearny-Fuchida hyperspace jamming field. Anyone trying to plot a course to the system would just bounce and misjump to the closest other star in the direct line.

Entry into the mystery system required that someone in the ship possessed one of the original Chaos Rings. And good intentions, because magic was an intent-based process.

"Even this… even this power… to create something from nothing… is better than the temptation of the Chaos Emerald," Armstrong whispered at last. "This isn't something human power can accomplish anymore, this is impinging on the domain of gods."

He had been admiring Robotnik before, but knowing that a man was able to turn away from this much power and completely entrust it to the next generation- that was almost oppressively humbling. He could have been a god, but chose to die as a man. That man was a hero that no one would ever know.

Posseli nodded and answered "Robotnik's Development Diary has a line that I don't quite understand, but about this it says - Chaos flows from a Sea of Gold, ships are swords and dragons are angels, demons are killed by kindness, and all life is a gift from the Lord of Nightmares."

"Don't you miss a time when all we had to worry about was just financially recovering from losing half a regiment?" Armstrong said with a heavy sigh.

"While it was more comforting to live in a universe that made sense, I would have to say… no. It has only been half a year, sir. Knowing that the universe is really much bigger than our stupid little wars in the Inner Sphere… that there's more wonder and magic out there than we can believe… that is much more comforting to me. Puts everything in perspective, I'd say." Posseli shrugged. "Ah, drinks are here."

The waiter bot slid onto the table two tall hot cream-topped mugs. The mugs had plastic blisters on top, almost like baby feeders, to minimize risks of spilling in artificial gravity. Posseli stuck a bendy straw into each hole so that they looked less insulting.

Armstrong reached for one, but only pinched the glass handle without lifting the mug until eventually he calmed down. "At least in the heart of a gas giant, no one can lay claim to it anymore. Declan II as a world factory sounds important enough that no one would ever think it is just a decoy."

He paused and waved at the screen, "At least I hope this… this... this planet with a face! Calms down and goes back to normal."

"Do you really think that's it?" Posseli said with a cruel smirk. "If there was ever a need… I'm sure Doctor Robotnik has made a way for his only begotten son to retrieve the Chaos Emerald and hero it up. No, sir – it becomes even more dangerous now. Because now the question is… when that time comes – did we raise Devlin Stone to withstand the temptations of that power?"

"No. Stop."

"There is an old aphorism that goes 'it takes a village to raise a child.' Sometimes it takes a regiment."

"I left them alone with Natasha Kerensky."

Posseli raised a mug in salute and took a sip. "Ah. Sucks to be you, then."

-.
-.

The crew of the SLS ARENDAL were fully read into the situation and so they knew that most of them had to be the first new settlers of Declan II. They could not leave and accidentally betray this information. Seeing a planet with a face made them think that this was simultaneously too crazy to be believed but too dangerous if anyone were actually crazy enough to believe it.

The Eridani Light Horse now had six WarShips that conveniently still looked like civilian vessels. The fruit of decades of ruthless optimization, they were a proven yet newly manufactured design from another timeline.However, that was not enough to save them from a surprise visit by some Dantes.

The new limit to the nanolathe inside the GREAT ARK was that while it could build ships, with near unlimited mass for building being disassembled from the core of the gas giant, it could only design and build from known designs. It only had the plans for the Scout and vessels based on that hull.

For anything bigger that can match up to a real WarShip, they needed to disassemble a bigger ship.

The Captain of the SLS ARENDAL stroked the leather top of the captain's chair. For generations, his family had served the old girl. Not always as the Captain, it was an elected position, but always with honor. From ship crew to fighter pilots to dropship command, it was all fine as long as they could come home – not to a world, trapped by the weight of gravity, but in the comforting cocoon of a spaceship.

"The old girl's not dying, sir" the First Mate tried to console the old man. "It's just a rebuild. She'll come out of this better and without her old pains."

"Will she?" he replied with a low growl. "I've seen the lathe. It can make you think something has always been there. It can duplicate anything, but can it fake history? I don't know – if her body changes, will she still have the same soul?"

"Sorry sir, but needs must. We have our orders. The naval contingent is just as part of the Eridani Light Horse RCT as the mech regiments. We can't be kingdoms of our own in a military roll."

"Aye, I understand. The one for the many," with one last squeeze at the leather, he let go. "We all fight in our own way. This girl would like to be able to fight directly."

"Yes, sir. Let's go. We can't stay here, not unless we want to be disassembled and reassembled along with the ship."

The captain nodded. He turned away and began to float off towards the exit.

Then suddenly his eyes gleamed as if a terrible yet great concept had just occurred to him. He turned around and lunged at the Captain's chair again. He clamped onto it like a koala on the tree. "Part of the ship! Part of the crew!" he screamed. "PART OF THE SHIP! PART OF THE CREW!"

"Not this shite again," the First Mate sighed.

They managed to sedate the old man and bring him away.

-.

And the SLS ARENDAL slowly sank headfirst into one of the eyewells of the ARK, to be reborn into the SLDS ARENDAL. From the other eyewell, floated up rebuilt Dictator-class DropShips. Four of them as Pocket WarShips, and two as Assault Tugs.

Everybody else had to go into the remaining Scouts IIIs. As the DropShips locked into place, the ships could now, with the aid of the Rings, disperse out into the Inner Sphere.

"These ships have a Lithium Fusion Battery, right? Think we could meet up with the 21st Strikers along the way and bring them to Harrow's Sun faster?" Armstrong mused. "Or to be more precise, you go bring them there while I do my job and go to New Avalon."

"I thought you were worried about Kerensky's influence on Stone?"

"I'm actually more worried about Stone's influence on Kerensky, but I figure by this time the damage is done. It's time to pass this headache on to someone else."

-.
-.

Harrow's Sun
Draconis March
07 March 3025

They were the wolves.

The pack runs as one, fights as one, and never abandons their own. That was what made them strong. Not the arrogance of the falcons of jade, nor the dreams of the nova cat, nor the naked bloodlust of the smoke jaguar. Leadership. Unity. Those who break with unit break with faith, and the faithless will meet only death.

Charles Winston and Daniel Arthbutnot made quite the pair. One looked old and grandfatherly, another thin and like some harried office worker. Their exterior belied the merciless warrior hearts and brutal savagery once in control of a BattleMech. Only the cold intellect betrayed by their eyes hinted at the danger.

Arbuthnot hissed at the old man "Those are no mere Assault DropShips. I would almost be impressed."

The Overlords and other DropShips of the Epsilon regiment hung motionless in space, their occupants uncomfortably floating and clinging to things in zero-gravity. Their engines had to be shut off or else risk catastrophic destruction after battle damage.

DropShip tugs and space workers moved slowly to attach secure lines to pull them closer in-system where they could affect repairs in stable orbit.

The Modified Dictator-class Pocket Warships, tentatively called internally the DOOM EGG, had a quartet of Light Subcapital Lasers on each facing and could strip all the armor off a Union's side in two or three sweeps. They had six Piranha Subcapital Missile Launchers to slap aside fighters and were each escorted by four EGARTS drone fighters.

If the ELH really wanted to destroy the Dragoons, just one of them would have been enough to murder their entire force.

"If the Epsilon Regiment would like to have a proper battle at a later date, perhaps in a series of company-scale duels to minimize infrastructure damage, the Eridani Light Horse would happily accept those terms of combat in lieu of the randomness and chaos of a planetary invasion," responded Charles Winston. "But for now, the 21st Strikers Regiment would have your parole to defer the attack on Harrow's Sun. You will be towed towards a stable orbit and then you may disembark. You may even keep your mechs, they will be held in trust here until the DropShips can affect repairs and either a nominal ransom or agreement for prisoner exchange is reached with the Wolf's Dragoons. This is a thing we do only because we know the Dragoons have honor."

He added "Also I agree, this would all have been much more impressive if we used proper WarShips." Then the old man shrugged, "But we all have to make do with what we are given."

Arthbutnot clenched his teeth until his jaws hurt.

Barbara Mosley, in taking down Natasha Kerensky's Black Widow Company, had made her name echo around the Inner Sphere.

Charles Winston personally did not care for any fame. But in seizing a whole goddamn Wolf's Dragoons regiment, he was sure this event would enter the ears of the House Lords themselves. Takashi Kurita would hear of it personally. People would die for daring to bring up bad news that makes the Coordinator look like he made a mistake, any mistake. Seeming like he overestimated the value of Wolf's Dragoons would also shame the supporters of the plan to establish a Dragoon-like regiment, the Ryuken. The Coordinator was untouchable, but the churn of lesser officers was not.

And then they would hear just how the Dragoons were taken down.

This was a capacity to conduct naval operations to make even Hanse Davion nervous. Everybody from Maximilian Liao to Katrina Steiner to even Michael Hasek-Davion would have to sit up and pay attention. The whole Inner Sphere would pivot around this moment, he could feel it.

Where did the general find these ships?!

It was confirmation. No wonder they had been told it was acceptable to paint the Cameron Star over the tan prancing pony. They had been resupplied. They were no longer alone.

-.
-.


New Avalon
Crucis March
Federated Suns
17 March 3025

"You're still refusing to let us deal with the Dragoons, then?" asked Hanse. "I could overlook the single company of Natasha Kerensky's, but an entire regiment… you had better have a good reason for me to potentially allow them back into Kurita hands, to kill and raid our worlds even further instead of just letting them sit out this war in a comfortable enough prison camp."

"We do this because we need the Wolves intact as much as possible for when the Draconis Combine inevitably turn against them, creating a blood feud. Hopefully this actually tempts the factors involved there to accelerate their plans. Then we can throw Epsilon Regiment to help their parent unit and have their gratitude. If not - what you want to ask from Jaime Wolf in compensation for the return of his regiment is up to you, my lord."

"Unfortunately for us, the Dragoons also have a point of honor about not being used against their former employers, so I can't just demand for the regiment to be moved to the Lyran front," the First Prince noted. "I don't want my soldiers to have to face their Epsilon Regiment again."

"I have a suggestion," said Ardan. "I am certain the Dragoons will want a real honest fight out of this, instead of just being blasted and captured midway. I know I would be infuriated. What if you ask that they can only fight the Light Horse? They can only attack worlds that the Eridani Light Horse have garrisoned?"

Both Nathan Armstrong and Hanse Davion furrowed their brows and considered it.

"That sounds… reasonable," said the ELH general. "This would involve planting the 21st Strikers down on a world instead of a fast reaction force. In fact a world would need to have two of our regiments to be worth the time – one to defend, another that can be moved out and keep the enemy off balance. Just like what the Dragoons are doing with their base on Misery."

"I will not force you into this if it would mean losing the flexibility the Light Horse RCT is known for," said the First Prince.

Armstrong shrugged. "I'm not that, ah, super concerned about the fate of the Wolf's Dragoons. It would be ideal for them to be ripping through House Kurita, but if there is no other alternative we would not object to them spending the next few years in a prison planet either. I suppose it all depends upon you and the response from Jaime Wolf."

"Very good." Hanse made a gesture as if sweeping away the issue, then opened his palm out towards the far side of the room. "You realize, of course, that the reason I allow this is because of the elephant in the room – which we will discuss now. Your WarShips-"

"Pocket WarShips" Armstrong put in.

"… Pocket WarShips. Is that even an actual term? No, never mind. What do you want for us to have access to them?"

"Nothing. That is, you will not have any access to them. You already have all the elements, Hanse Davion. You would learn more from failing than copying. The Terran Hegemony once attempted to inhibit the member states by making it always more convenient to be reverse-engineering than developing their own ability to create things from the ground up, no matter how inferior they may appear at the start. I will not harm you like this." Armstrong's gaze was stony. "Just play the game of 'How many Subcapital Lasers can you fit on a Union?' The answer is - enough to make a ship ten times its size choke on it."

Hanse leaned back on his chair and closed his eyes. Ardan wondered if he was angry.

After some time, the ruler of the largest and most powerful state in the Inner Sphere said "You have no idea – no idea at all how much of a relief that is. I just keep getting surprised that there's no other shoe being dropped. Whatever agenda you might be pushing here, I don't even care anymore. I just trust that you do not intend any harm to my Federated Suns."

Armstrong stared at him and said slowly as if explaining to a little child "It's not like we have been trying to hide it. The restoration of the Star League and peace in the Inner Sphere."

Hanse hissed "You MADMAN. It sounds insane and impossible if you just say it like that. Who would believe you!"

Ardan looked hurt for a moment. Why was it so hard for politicians – as much as he hated to admit it, his friend was a consummate politician now – to believe that people could be as honest and straightforward as exactly what they said?

Armstrong shrugged again. "It is what it is."

"I… I do want to be First Lord of the Star League," Hanse admitted. "If it can happen in my lifetime… you said I would make a perfectly adequate one. But I'm a realist. I can only hope my descendants can achieve it, and we gain it by proving ourselves worthy of it by the example of the prosperity and security of our realm. If you want to recreate the Terran Hegemony… we have controlled those worlds for too long, I don't think I can adequately explain away giving it up unless the Terran Hegemony is militarily restored to something like its height."

He looked opened his eyes and looked helpless for a moment. "But if you could do that, why would you even need us? Why even stay here? What I am most afraid of is true friends becoming the greatest enemies because of the need of politics. I… don't have many of those left. I can't even trust my supporters if they only tell me what I want to hear to advance their own interests or because they don't want me to worry unnecessarily. Controlled and being controlled. That's politics."

Then he shook his head and his demeanor, as a ruler forced into his position from the untimely death of the heir, returned. "The Eridani Light Horse at some point will have to stop being just an RCT and become a political body of its own cognizance at some point. I wonder – are you prepared for this, Nathan Armstrong?"

The general grinned. What a stony question indeed. "I am happy to say that I would able to retire immediately before that becomes my problem."

"Stop showing me up like this, you total bastard," Hanse said flatly.

-----------------------------------------------

AN:
And there we go.

I am sorry to say that is as far as Throw a Stone can go for now. This feels like a good 'Book One' end. It's time to let it go into a hiatus.

The ELH already have all they need. They have a cubbyhole they can retreat to if things turn for the worst. They have infinite manufacturing capacity now that they just have to slowly distribute to the Inner Sphere via shell companies. You can just imagine what influence they will have on the events leading up to the 4th​ succession war – or if it even happens at all, and how this much would panic Comstar, and the fate of the Wolf's Dragoons.

They have enough that they would not just be made extinct by the Clans; their centuries of loyal service meaning nothing, betrayed by the selfish incompetence of every power that they trusted, the end of the last remaining piece of the noble collective dream that was the Star League.

 

[bluepencil]

The Charm Offensive

-.

Colchester
Federated Suns
Sometime in 3025

Natasha Kerensky scowled as she walked through the ELH base, Devlin Stone keeping step beside her.

The ground trembled beneath their feet.

"I don't know but I've been tooold~!" song-shouted the drill sergeant.

"~I don't know but I've been told~" returned the jogging trainees.

It just so happened that they were jogging in formation inside a troop of 15-ton Urbanite Ultralight Mechs. Natasha turned away from the dust kicked up by the passing machines which very much resembled eggs that just so happened to have arms and legs.

"Industrial Mechs?" she murmured. She supposed that was cheaper than a full-sized training mech. However, if it was just getting people used to a neurohelmet, simulators and their brainwave readings were very close to the real thing. The only thing simulators could not reproduce was the sense of forward and reverse acceleration from movement and impact.

Training with refitted industrial mechs or very stripped down battlemechs might even give trainees the wrong idea of how responsive mechs could be, because more mass meant more momentum to overcome.

"Myndo's got a Network Node~!"

"~Myndo's got a Network Node~!"

"Likes to push the on-off swiiiitch~!"

"~Likes to push the on-off switch~!"

"Dig that crazy kind of witch!"

"~Dig that crazy kind of witch!"

- the trainees sang as they continued off and away around the base perimeter.

Natasha frowned. 'Who is Myndo?'

"Myndo Waterly. Precentor Dieron. She is kind of totes cray cray."

'What?' Natasha looked down and squinted. "That was an expected question. You are not reading my mind."

The boy tilted his head to the side. "Of course?"

Natasha huffed and resumed walking a well-worn route towards the ELH hospital. "This is not in the SLDF standard training regimen," she mentioned offhand. "For such traditionalists as the Light Horse, I am surprised you would break with tradition this far."

She respected the SLDF as the root of the Clans, but not so much its martial prowess. The Clan way had already proved superior to the old SLDF style war. Nicholas Kerensky built the Clans over their shattered remains in their reconquest of the Pentagon Worlds in OPERATION KLONDIKE. The rebels had driven away Alexandr Kerensky, and the old man, the Great Father, died in bitterness. The Clans repudiate weakness and civilian rule from that unforgivable ungratefulness and insult.

"Scout mechs should be 20 tons. Who decided that?" Devlin responded.

Natasha blinked. Who did decide that, anyway? But "Scout mechs should be able to survive to deliver their intelligence. It is not enough to simply be fast."

"Speed is life," responded the boy. "If we didn't have this I would have to wait two years before being allowed to serve at all."

Take to the fight in barely-armored war machines at only the age of, what, sixteen? How Clan-like. Natasha Kerensky nodded in approval.

"Um, we are probably not thinking of the same thing…" said Stone.

"That is irrelevant. Let us not waste any more time."

-.
-.

"Do not abandon me, Lady! Please…!" Colin MacLaren looked a far cry from the polished MechWarrior he was just a few short weeks ago, the perfect picture of a gentleman warrior as if ripped from the pages of ancient noble cavaliers. "Let me serve you in any way… I can still stand. Give me some time, I can still stand!"

He tried to lift his right arm in vain. He had almost no left shoulder to speak of, and his lungs were shredded. Burns scarred the lower left side portion of his face, including the chin and lips, and amputated his mustache. Hair would never grow there again.

Natasha Kerensky stared down stonily at him. She reached out and clasped his hand in hers, and though her face didn't change expression, her eyes showed all the pain and regret the Black Widow could never reveal as a weakness. "Yes," she replied softly. "I believe you. You are still strong."

But you will never be a MechWarrior again.

To the Clans, death would be far more preferable than to live a half-life full of humiliation and suffering.

MacLaren tried to smile with half a paralyzed face. "I will endure, Lady. For you…" He closed his eye as his sudden surge of strength began to leave him. "For… you."

"Colin!"

The hiss steady hiss of a respirator filled the room. The monitors showed his vital signs were stable.

"There is a way," Devlin Stone spoke up after a while.

Natasha Kerensky gave MacLaren's hand one last squeeze, as if trying to transfer her own body heat into his cold weak bones, and turned with a glare. For an adjutant, this boy was too free to offer his opinions. "What?" she hissed.

"We of the Eridani Light Horse value veterancy, and the old to manage to live through all sorts of battles are to be respected instead of discarded. A MechWarrior gets only deadlier past their thirties. Experience is to be preserved and shared as much as possible.

"As you know, the Magistracy of Canopus managed to keep most of the Star Leagues medical knowledge intact. For all that the Magistracy is known for sexual deviance, using that technology to create catgirls and mermaids and other fetishes… this is what they do in order to appear mostly harmless. The better to give every other power a share instead of being attacked in order to monopolize that power and ruin the very prize like the Succession Wars did. A lot of their medical tech deals with amputations and nerve reconnection.

"Our Major Steve Gray, for example, had taken a direct hit to the cockpit and ended up with his right arm and leg burned away. Surgeons attached bionic limbs and now he is fighting again with the 71st Regiment."

Natasha shook her head. The optimism of a child. "A human body, like a mech, if the core is intact, losing limbs is not as much of a problem. Without breath, no one is a warrior. If all they have is Star League medical technology, I do not share your confidence in their ability to treat my man's injuries."

Not even the Clans would be able to recover from this. Though mostly in the case they would not even bother. Warriors were inherently disposable. Every single one a competitor.

Devlin Stone smiled thinly and snapped a salute. "Ma'am what I am saying is - the Eridani Light Horse no longer has a reason to hold back. We too have direct access to improvements in Star League technology. We can rebuild him. Better. Faster. Stronger."

Natasha squinted down at him again. "Is this Armstrong's message? What do you seek to gain from this?"

"He might never be as good as a MechWarrior again, but honestly - people are too obsessed with Mechs. We would accept a bond of service for a time as a trainer-commander for augmented lances with dedicated armor support. You get to go back to the Dragoons. We get someone to continue your instruction for a while longer."

Natasha raised a finger to her lips. Would that count to Colin as abandoning him? On one hand, having an informant in the Light Horse would be useful. On the other hand, divided loyalties rarely pan out well.

"You are all fools to keep exposing your doctrine to your possible enemies," replied Natasha. "This tells me that your doctrine is new and untested, Armstrong should be wary of me deliberately engineering weakness into my teachings. If you are all counting on my pride to scorn not doing a good job of it, remember that my first loyalty will always be to Wolf's Dragoons."

Devlin Stone beamed. "Oh we are fully counting on you reporting every weakness to Jaime Wolf. In many ways, the Dragoons need our combined arms doctrine more than we the Light Horse do."

Natasha Kerensky scowled at him again. These ponies still make no goddamn sense.

-.
-.



Hilton Head
Terra
Sometime in 3025


The First Circuit of Comstar was the ruling body of Comstar, composed of the chief administrators of the HPG stations which made up the Prime or First Circuit of the old Star League HPG network - New Earth, Barnard, Alpha C, Bryant, Procyon, and Dieron - as well as a Prime Administrator. In 3025 the First Circuit's power rested in the Advocate Precentors of each realm - speaking for all HPG stations in each of the Great Houses while nominally in charge of their capital world's HPG station, and exercising Comstar's authority and activity in each realm.

Precentor Sian for the Capellan Confederation, Precentor New Avalon for the Federated Suns, Precentor Tharkad for the Lyran Commonwealth, and Precentor Atreus for the Free Worlds League, and finally Precentor Dieron would represent the Draconis Combine. The Primus, elected from their ranks and confirmed by the First Circuit, represented Terra and gave direction for Comstar as a whole.

Julian Tiepolo, Primus of Comstar and formerly Precentor Atreus, was a tall and quiet man wearing round spectacles. He glowered across the table to each of the other members of the First Circuit as a holotape began to play.

"Greetings, Prime Circuit of Comstar. I am Nathan Armstrong, Brevet General of the Eridani Light Horse Regimental Combat Team, and I come to you in the spirit of our shared roots in the Star League.

"The Light Horse offers respect to Comstar as the present successors to the Terran Hegemony, and your overt actions and vows to preserve technology and rekindle civilization across the Inner Sphere. Adepts of Comstar truly believe that they are working for the good of the common man.

"In that vein, we have a gift. We give you CORE DEMETER, a copy of a Department of Mega Engineering's Memory Core that contains everything necessary to terraform and maintain habitability for humanity across space. Everything including how to manufacture and maintain terraforming equipment from ground zero. This was how Terran Alliance learned to do this, and now everyone will know.

"Humanity's greatest enemy has always been hunger and disease and disaster, and civilization itself appeared as a measure of control over the natural world. We believe that it is immoral to withhold this information, even if it may be to the benefit of enemies.

"We have given this to our current patrons, the Federated Suns, of course. But even now diplomatic missions are on the way. CORE DEMETER will find its way into the hands of the Lyran Commonwealth, to the Free Worlds League, to the Capellan Confederation, to the Outworlds Alliance, Magistracy of Canopus and even the Taurian Concordat. And, inevitably, to the Draconis Combine.

"It is our hope that Comstar holding a second master copy would be able to serve to check that the cores have not been tampered with. It is our hope that Comstar uses this core to advance their efforts of rehabilitating and improving the lives of the downtrodden in the frontier where so many seek them out as legacies of the time when humanity was at its apex, and we turned our powers into more than war and violence.

"May we meet again as the Star League reforms.

"With all our regards, from the Eridani Light Horse."

-.
-.

Tharkad
Lyran Commonwealth
Sometime in 3025

The Lyran Commonwealth. Often said that they would be the economic and military superpower of the Inner Sphere were it not for the sheer self-importance of their nobles and the stunning incompetence of their commissioned officers. Katrina Steiner's coup against Alessandro Steiner happened in 3007, well after the Eridani Light Horse left Steiner service in disgust from their gross incompetence by 2999.

Archon Katrina Steiner even approaching her fifties remained a stunning woman. She gave the representative a warm smile without any hint of duplicity. "Though the Eridani Light Horse have left our service, we bear you no ill will. We are still allies and friends, we hope."

The ELH diplomat bowed "You are a wise ruler, Katrina Steiner, and in that vein we of the Light Horse give you this gift… and something else, to make this partnership between the Federated Sun and the Lyran Commonwealth a more equitable and indispensable one."

-.
-.

Sian
Capellan Confederation
Sometime in 3025

Maximilian Liao scowled down at the ELH diplomat from his raised throne. Balding and with beady suspicious eyes, most who looked at him now would forget the extraordinary levels of cunning he had displayed to give House Liao the strength it had. He reversed the collapse of the CCAF and secured the borders of the Capellan Confederation not through brute military strength but by making his enemies destroy themselves.

While House Liao remained the weakest of the Great Houses, the CCAF was once again a significant threat that could not be easily dismissed. The Concord of Kapetyn relaxed the tension at the Liao/Marik border, and Davion could not so easily raise forces to deal with the Capellan front without weakening their much more dangerous Draconis front.

"What makes a Davion dog dare to stand before us?" Maximilian Liao asked while pointing with a sharp long fingernail. "We remember well that the Eridani Light Horse has taken up arms against us. We do not easily forgive insults and you would be blessed indeed to leave with your head if what you say displeases us."

The ELH diplomat shrugged. "Eridani Light Horse. Wolf's Dragoons. MacCarron's Armored Cavalry. We can fight again and settle who is the best later. We mean no insult. This is the way of fighting men.

"Oh great and wise Chancellor Liao, we are here to offer our respects, and a gift, in the spirit of when House Liao and the Capellan Confederation were valuable members of our shared history under the Star League. This may somewhat displease House Davion - but we are doing it anyway."

-.
-.


Atreus
Free Worlds League
Sometime in 3025


Janos Marik was sixty-five, white-haired and weary, and had the eagle symbol of the Free World League tattooed on his forehead. It had been many centuries since the Eridani Light Horse left the service of House Marik, and he had no relevant feelings for or against the mercenaries.

He looked only mildly interested. If it wasn't for the rumors that the Eridani Light Horse were being a pet project of Hanse Davion, he would probably have put this meeting further back in his schedule. This was probably some sort of indirect way of communication from Hanse Davion trying to break up the Concord of Kapetyn.

As long as the Federated Suns were allies with the Lyran Commonwealth, they were inescapable enemies. The Eridani Light Horse had cost the FWLM many campaigns and had led many successful invasions into League worlds. It was not the hereditary grudge like with House Kurita, but the Eridani Light Horse would find no one in awe of them here.

He leaned his cheek on one fist and gestured. "Well? What is your purpose here?"

"Captain-General, in the interest of collective humanity, we present to you - CORE DEMETER."

-.
-.

Canopus IV
Magistracy of Canopus
Sometime in 3025

Magestrix Kyalla Centrella was raised to despise everything regarding the Free Worlds League and view anything Inner Sphere with a great deal of suspicion. Considering how much the Inner Sphere saw the Periphery as yokels to be taken advantage of, this was a natural reaction.

The Eridani Light Horse being so faithful to the Star League could only have them be a reminder of a time of brutal conquest and economic servitude. The fall of the Star League saw the Magistracy secure against the wars of the Inner Sphere. They were needed, but far enough to not be a target for conquest. She pursued a "service for service" exchange, in which skilled technicians and scientists from other realms could come to Canopus to live in luxuriant and even hedonistic surroundings in exchange for supplying them with their own highly-regarded medical professionals.

Yet none of that could be seen on Kyalla Centrella dusky face. She leaned back on her throne, positioning herself to expose better her bosoms though the window of her satin dress. She had a trim and muscular body and knew how to use it, both on and off the sheets. She licked her lips and smiled. "What brings such a virile young warhorse so far from its minders I wonder?"

"Magestrix, things could be better between us. You can't be left hanging limp while everyone else gets a ride. Let this Vagabond Horse give a you a taste of the old world-"

-.
-.

Taurus
Taurian Concordat
Sometime in 3025


The Star League was a golden age for the Inner Sphere, but it was a time of suffering and terror for the Periphery. In the Reunification War from 2577 to around 2597, of he Taurian Concordat fought with every means, even to the point of suicide, to hurt the vastly overmatching enemy. The Taurian forces were the most competent opponents the SLDF faced, doing much with their limited means and making it clear to the last man that the Star League's claims of a more enlightened humanity was a lie. They were not wanted there. In response, the SLDF prosecuted a strategy of scorched earth. Worlds died. Atrocities upon atrocities were laid upon the Taurian people. Many centuries later, the scars remained.

House Calderon would never forget nor forgive. But even among them, Thomas Calderon, a wide man with one eye (the other replaced with a cybernetic one after a hunting accident) was considered far too paranoid against the 'imminent' prospect of Davion invasion.

"You Davion bootlick! You devil of the Star League! You dare come here and tell me you don't intend any insult?! You insult me with your face! Give me a reason not to shoot you dead right now!"

"Father, please-" his eldest son, Edward Calderon, sighed. He at least did not share his father's mania about the perfidious Davions and cautiously extended to them a market for Davion goods. Everyone looked forward to his eventual assumption of rulership as a popular and competent leader.

Wandering Horse had noted that this made him a perfect target for assassination for certain interested parties to continue destablization of the Inner Sphere's powers or for certain parties inside the Taurian Concordat itself to continue their graft and embezzlement.

"In the name of the Light Horse, my life is yours to deal with. I was prepared for this. But also, this -" the diplomat held up the DEMETER CORE. "From water comes food. From food, manpower. From manpower, industry. From industry, the power to protect yourself from your terrible Davion incursion. From the halls of the Terran Alliance to chambers of Taurus - it is yours to do with as you see fit."

The ELH representative had already previously cleared this with Edward Calderon, of course. They had done all checks to make sure that the Memory Core was not some form of bomb. He dropped to one knee in a bow to lay the Memory Core down to the ground and then stood up straight to salute.

For the rebirth of the Star League, he was fine if he did end up being shot dead at that moment. May it be one freed from the sins of the first and not repeat its mistakes.


-.
-.

Alpheratz
Outworlds Alliance
Sometime in 3025


Niel Avellar was a long-faced man who looked continually out of his depth. The Outworlds Alliance was considered the weakest of the Periphery powers, a podunk and backwards agricultural nation in love with pacifism. They barely had any military and disdained battlemechs as hateful symbols of war, but they did possess the most skilled aerospace fighter forces in the Inner Sphere.
Sandwiched with Davion and Kurita on their borders, it was a continual dance trying to hold off on being absorbed by much greater powers. It was only the fact that making moves on the Outworlds Alliance meant weakening the direct border between these two bitter enemies that allowed the OWA to survive these many centuries since the fall of the Star League.

"That… that doesn't make sense. This is too valuable. Won't… won't Kurita want to take it? If we do this, that would just make us bigger targets for pirates! This is too much! We don't want war. We don't want any of the luxuries of the Inner Sphere. Take it away!"

"I was told that everyone has the right to 'life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness'. Just because people are content does not mean their lives are not already hard, short, and full of suffering. They already cannot protect themselves, because you overlook here that slaves are also a currency. Being ignored as lacking value only lasts until there is someone strong enough to care about having weak prey to dine on. Kurita and Davion will not come to rescue you, the avowed neutral.

"Since the fall of the Star League, the Outworlds Alliance lost over half its worlds not through war but from starvation and sickness. With the powers of DEMETER, Goddess of Harvests and Agriculture, feed your children well and let them grow up strong. Only they can decide your future."

-.
-.

Hilton Head
Terra
Same time

"The Eridani Light Horse are a known quantity, you said. There is nothing interesting in them using lostech, you said. It is just Davion showing more favor and field testing their scraps from Hoff, you! Said!"

As Julian Tiepolo, Primus of Comstar spoke, Hutrin Vandel, Precentor New Avalon, grimaced and shrank back as if being slapped.

After a while he rallied back "No one could have predicted this! They are just three regiments of mercenaries, a light combined arms RCT. A decent assault regiment could push them off a world just fine! They had never been unbeatable. Who would ever predict they would dig up some Memory Core and instead of selling it House Davion, give it to everybody in the Inner Sphere? Who would do that? This kind of generosity is nonsensical!"

"Can we do something with the cores? If we have the master copy, we can engineer flaws, could we sabotage attempts to duplicate the tech, and make this all sound unviable or a trap by the Davions?" asked Ulthan Everson, Precentor Tharkad.

"No. If our copy differs in a way that both the Steiner and Davion cores agree upon, that would make it too obvious that our copy is the one being manipulated." Primus Julian Tiepolo adjusted his glasses. "We are backed into a corner."

"Where did the Eridani Light Horse dig this up?! It is suspicious that Hanse Davion would allow this. Where do these mercenaries get the gall?" hissed Pedrigor Aliz, Precentor Atreus.

"The ELH only did this after their loss on Hoff," Myndo Waterly, Precentor Dieron, spoke up. Her eyes glittered with mad glee. "Many times before they had always been destroyed, but they never did anything unusual. Only after meeting the Dragoons did they stop holding back. Something happened there on Hoff!"

"You mean, they discovered something about Wolf's Dragoons?" Aliz asked in an arched tone.

Julian Tiepolo flicked his gaze up, and Myndo smirked at even that minute expression of interest. Wolf's Dragoons and his failure to uncover their origins had always rankled him. That House Kurita was interested in absorbing Wolf's Dragoons into their own troops was obvious. Tiepolo had already sent instructions to the new Precentor Galedon, Alexander Kalafon, to help it along. Warlord Grieg Samsonov was provided access to a potential turncoat within the Wolves.

But to split attention now between the Dragoons and the Light Horse…

Vandel said with a sigh "It is quite suspicious that very soon after, the Eridani Light Horse were able to beat the Dragoons. Not in regimental combat, but in space."

"WarShips?!" Aliz gasped in alarm.

Vandal shook his head. "No. Some form of super Assault DropShip. It is however another mystery where those DropShips came from."

"Do you have anything, anything at all, that is new and useful about the Eridani Light Horse?" asked Everson.

Vandal shrugged. "It is rumored with some support that the ELH uncovered an extensive Star League cache even with new DropShips. It makes sense, but it is difficult to trust the veracity of all the rumors."

"Why is that?" Everson asked again.

"Because they all involve far too many Urbanmechs."

Everyone in the First Circuit stared at him. This sounded like a total non sequitur.

Vandal shrugged even harder, raising his hands well above shoulder height. "Those are the reports! Apart from several conspicuous meetings between Armstrong and Hanse Davion, the Eridani Light Horse had done nothing unusual - all easily explained as reconstructive efforts after their loss on Hoff. Then they did this." He waggled his hands helplessly. "No one could have predicted this!"

"I… reluctantly agree," said Everson. "Tharkad had observed nothing unusual about the ELH."

"I agree as well," said Aziz. "Precentor New Avalon did not commit anything that could have been a mistake by not monitoring the Eridani Light Horse more closely. They were a predictable component."

"But they are not now!" said Waterly. "Is it not easier to insert operatives into the Eridani Light Horse than Wolf's Dragoons?"

"I will handle it!" Vandal responded swiftly. "This is under my remit, my territory, Precentor Dieron!"

Myndo only sniffed and smirked again. "So be it. May you have a better time chasing after the Horse's supply source than the Dragoons."

Julian scowled at the obvious indirect insult. He spoke "In truth, this situation is not as severe as it first appears. Terraforming technology is a danger to our missionary doctrine. If people are not desperate and fearful of enemy raids, they would not flock under our banner for protection and relief from hunger. However, be reminded that it was the First and Second Successions Wars, in the height of plenty, that were also the most destructive. The DEMETER CORE had been shared to all powers. Let them build up resources so that the conflict may intensify and Blake's prophecy come closer to fruition. The status quo is retained."

"Is it, Primus?" Myndo Waterly asked archly. "The Federated Commonwealth can leverage their manpower and economic might to revitalize their worlds. The weight is already too stacked in their favor as it is!"

"Do remember that the Free Worlds League is relatively at peace and with a working economy," said Aziz. "The Concord of Kapetyn is weaker than the FedCom alliance, but until now had lacked an effective counterweight. Lyran money and Davion might. Now Marik could just spend money to make Liao and Kurita fight. As holders of the master copy and with our inherited knowledge from the Terran Hegemony, I believe we have the perfect opportunity to more directly insinuate ourselves into terraforming efforts."

Julian Tiepolo, as former Precentor Atreus, just stared silently at him.

It was up to Everson to raise the unspoken question "Are you asking that we throw economic support to the Free Worlds League? Do you remain impartial, Precentor Atreus?"

"I do. Janos Marik is only a reluctant ally of Maximilian Liao. But relaxing the Liao border means they can return to the traditional ambitions of the FWLM, breaking through into Steiner space. The harder Marik can distract Steiner, the less they will be able to offer aid to the Davions."

Julian Tiepolo nodded. "I agree. The balance remains, only intensified."

Myndo Waterly crossed her arms. "I… do not have any serious objection. However, someone should still do something about the Eridani Light Horse!"

Tiepolo turned to her and nodded. In a cold voice he added "In that we also agree. By doing this, the Light Horse had proclaimed themselves our enemy. And they will pay for it, and even to the end never knowing for what sins they are now brought to ruin."


-.
-.

 

[bluepencil]

The Charm Offensive 02

Colchester
Federated Suns
Early 3025

"What the dry sober hell is this?" asked Natasha Kerensky.

"It is Warhammer," replied Devlin Stone. "But Urbanmech."

Natasha glared down at him. The boy raised his palms up and said "Your Warhammer is fine. But it is in storage. This one allows us to better collect combat data."

The Black Widow turned back to the bulbous 70-ton machine painted a nightmarish shade of black with bright red accents here and there. The arms and legs belonged to a Warhammer. Boxy and robust, the arms ended in reinforced barrels holding a Donal Particle Projection Cannon.

The core of the machine was that of an oversized Urbanmech however, the dumpy looking trash receptacle with a six-pod SRM-6 bin poking off the right shoulder. The gun clusters - a pair of Medium Lasers, Small Lasers, and Machine Guns - were located roughly where they should be in the lower left and right side hips of a Warhammer. All in all, a Warhammer's loadout was not complicated with distinct range bands from long range to short range.

A Warhammer could not support firing off all its weapons all at once, but bracket fire means that once enemies were inside a certain limit, firing off long-range weapons was pointless - specially with the minimum range of a PPC. It was better to rely on the less heat-producing secondary weapons for a while. This allowed the main guns to cool off until the range could open again.

"Are you aiming to humiliate me?" Natasha asked dryly.

"Humiliate you? You in particular? No ma'am." Devlin held out an open palm towards the Urbanhammer. "The weapons are stock, but because it was proportionally Urbanmech, there was still a lot of free volume. This allowed us to change the test machine's heatsinks to Double Heat Sinks and boost armor to 11 tons of Ferro-Fibrous up from the 10 tons of standard armor sheathing of the WHM-6R. This is enough to make the Mech capable of running and firing all its weapons and still remain completely heat neutral, and with 20% more armor protection. There were left over tons to emplace CASE."

That was enough to significantly increase the threat profile of a stock Warhammer. If the Light Horse had upgraded with lostech this far, then it explained why they were punching well above their weight recently. "This seems unfair. Who do you want me to humiliate?"

Devlin grinned. "Humiliate? Oh my dear Miss Kerensky. We want you to break some horses."

-.
-.

Fort Bradley
Colchester
Later that day

"You know who I am! And I know some of you still think there's nothing more worth knowing from a defeated foe. But none of you are Barbara Mosley. So if you think you are hard enough, come meet me in this circle. I was told enough about your lostech upgrades! Do you think that is enough? Come face me as an equal and find out!"

-.

Unlike the Solaris arenas, there were no protected areas for spectators to observe a mech duel.

Mechs were arranged at a clearing well away from the camp, while inside the auditorium a massive holoprojector displayed the scene. It had turned into a whole event, with everyone bringing in snacks and making bets.

Over on the third floor looking down at the auditorium floor from a utility wing, sat Stone Platoon.

"Since when did we have Urban Warhammers?" asked Bennet Brooklyn. "Heck, since when did we have Urbanmechs that are *seventy tons* at all?!"

"You know *since when*," said William Bloderwelg, the gentle giant of this troop.

Bennet scowled with his hooked nose and pointedly looked away from Devlin's direction. Everything weird with the Eridani Light Horse could now be traced all the way to the day the boy showed up in an Urbanmech. The Colchester starport even had a record of the dropship bringing him down, which left soon afterwards.

"It is fascinating though. Some mechs already look like Urbanmechs - the Flashman is 75 tons and has overall the same body, I suppose." Tom Lexington adjusted his eyeglasses. "We already have so many Urbanmechs, I guess this finally puts to pasture the question if we do have a mobile factory. The answer is yes. "

"Frikking bribery getting into the Light Horse…" Bennet continued to mutter.

Angela Bakko chirped "If Urbanmechs can be heavies now, do you think we can get to pilot one?"

"It's still a freakin' Urbanmech!" Bennet hissed and glared at her past his hooked nose and then pointed down. "It's still a trashcan! I don't think Kerensky's actually all that good! If she still beats people while piloting a trashcan- that… that proves something? I don't know! But this is stupid and looks wrong!"

"It is humiliating to be beaten by an Urbanmech," Devlin said simply.

Bennet clacked his tongue. "Yes."

"So of course this means we should do it against House Kurita as much as possible," he continued in an even tone.

Salli Maza raised her brows and beamed at him. "Is this why Captain Mosley is… you know, being her… everything at the Draconis March? She could have any mech, but still pilots Urbanmech. A Light UrbanMech at that!"

Angela squinted at him "You… seem to be very familiar with Captain Mosley, aren't you?"

Salli Maza smirked "And been hanging around with Natasha Kerensky herself a lot. She is quite the looker too, isn't she?"

"I am… I am sus!" Angela said after some thought. "I am very sus!"

"More nepotism…!" Bennet grumbled.

"That makes no sense, my friend," said William. "They are not related either biologically or legally. Captain Mosley has not shown any sign of favoritism or advantage towards friend Devlin. Unless you mean actually in reverse, as Miss Bad Ass is reaping all the benefits."

"White unicorn," Devlin said in reflex.

"You are the only one other than her that actually insists on that," noted Salli.

Angela pouted and made some strange mouselike squeaking noise as she crossed her arms and huffed.

"They're starting!" Tom slapped at the metal railing excitedly.

Hudson Asner, all of fifteen and already looking almost like an adult in his twenties, said "What do you think? How many matches before the Black Widow goes down?"

"Kerensky's good, but straight back to back fights? It's easier to win when it's a series of duels, so I'd say… three. Depends on what she's facing. Eventually her armor is going to get worn down," answered Bennet Brooklyn.

This was a limited live-fire test, with energy weapons dialed way down and guns firing mainly tracers, with the mech battle computers simulating full-scale weapons fire and effects.

Tom Lexington added "I don't know. The loadout of a WHM-6R has limited ammo compared to the WHM-6D, but very few things can take the hit of a pair of PPCs. In a long-range duel, a Warhammer will always win - but this duel is artificially restricted to a map only half a kilometer across where both mechs will nearly always have sightlines to each other. Smaller, faster mechs may have it easier than big mechs - they can whittle down enemy armor faster and skirmish to its backside. But…" He scratched at the back of his head helplessly.

"But what?" asked Hudson.

Tom nervously adjusted his glasses again. "It is Warhammer. But also Urbanmech. A 360 degree torso twist… I think that's really an unfair advantage in short-range duel. Would she be using it? If yes, then I think Captain Kerensky if she keeps getting consistent hits would be able to take down maybe double her weight in medium-weight opponents, or up to three mechs in her weight class who can't maneuver as well."

Hudson turned. "What do you think, Stone?"

"My father told me stories of Natasha Kerensky before he died, and he said that Kerensky was not yet as good as she could be. It would take two tragedies before she achieves that perfect clarity, and the ELH may have butterfield away that second tragedy. So now we see what the wrath of a +1/+1 Mechwarrior looks like instead of a +0/+0." Devlin Stone nodded several times in self-satisfaction. "Fuck yer TMMs."

"My… what?"

-.
-.

Griffin. Dervish. Catapult. Griffin. Phoenix Hawk. Thunderbolt. Hunchback. Warhammer. Thunderbolt again. By the ninth mech Natasha Kerensky downed, people were coming to realize that yes,

1. She was shameless enough to use and abuse the torso twist of a Heavy Urbanmech,
2. A Warhammer that can fire its pair of PPCs continuously and apparently NEVER MISS makes Light and even Medium mechs all but unviable on the field,
3. When the Light Horse fought the Dragoons on Hoff, this was part of the unnerving cry - "The Dragoons? Christ, they're not men, they're machines!"
4. Yes, Natasha Kerensky was that god-damned good.
5. Barbara Mosley returning to get herself trained to be on Kerensky's level is due to literally epic levels of assbeating. If the woman's self-respect could survive that, then Mosley would be forced to also become one of the deadliest MechWarriors to have ever existed.
6. If the Eridani Light Horse wants to be the tip of the spear for the reborn SLDF, they absolutely need to be on this level.

-.
-.

Devlin Stone turned around and smiled, extending his arms as if to give a distant hug."My friends, I have a gift for you. A surprise gift. High Command has designed to also trial Kerensky's methods on complete novices with no habits to untrain. Which means our platoon - or two lances - gets to have follow-along mech training, as a comparison group to other veteran mechwarriors doing the same thing. We enter battlemechs a full two years ahead of schedule."

"This is bullshit," breathed Bennet Broolyn. "How?"

"Nepotism," said Devlin Stone.

Then after a pause "Also, as long as it is Urbanmech."

-.
-.

Brunswick City
New Avalon
Same date

Countess Rodina Archernar was a dangerous woman and CEO of Archenar Battlemechs, the largest and most respected military producer in the Federated Suns. Although overshadowed somewhat by Corean Enterprises' fully automated factory in the technological decline of the Succession Wars, and limited in scope by not being a multinational corporation - Archenar was pure Davion loyalist through and through, operating solely in Federated Suns space. Archenar manufactured the first ever BattleMech for the AFFS, and now it felt right to her that once again House Davion would rely on her company in the turning of a new age.

Although they were inside one of Brunswick City's most high-class restaurant with a view over the glittering nightscape of the metropolis, Leroy Martin was not inclined to wine and dine the heiress. While she was indeed quite comely and wealthy and still unmarried, he had resolved to himself that he was a boring man that lived a boring life and the phrase 'married to his work' would probably be his truth.

Tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a trim black suit compared to Countess Rodina's orange and black ensemble, this business dinner had less of an impression of a date but a big brother taking his graduating little sister out to eat.

Rodina picked up her wineglass and motioned to outside. "Land is expensive in New Brunswick. As impressive as it is to get as much floor space in the Industrial Park, your company could have done better setting up a more secure facility in the outskirts, no?"

"RobotniC is a distribution company, not a manufacturing one, my Lady," replied Leroy. "Our source factories are a secret because what no one knows about, no one can raid."

Rodina stared at him past the rim of her wine glass. "Really? Despite the news all being about the mobile factory that just landed? The pundits are called it… what was that now? Ah, yes, 'the Corean plant in an egg'."

Leroy carefully cut into his salmon, ate, and looked up. A passing waiter happened to reflect light from the tray he was carrying onto Leroy Martin's square eyeglasses, causing his gaze to glint menacingly for a moment. The CEO responded passionlessly "A certain level of on-site production is necessary for sampling and as a buffer against minor shortages. A mobile factory is unable to produce full BattleMech and Combat Vehicles- it is nothing so unusual, a production line only oriented vertically instead of horizontally."

"And I suppose the fact that a mobile factory can have its own little island in the Hebrides instead of being an employer over some little town suits your purposes just fine."

Megacorporations had a tendency to dominate the economic prospects of nearby towns and could lead some businessmen to have strange illusions of lordship. Granted, most such firms were owned by nobles with their own fiefs, but they exerted pressure as much as they supported a town's vitality. Rodina continued "This is good for security, but it is not a good look. A company that looks always so ready to pull up roots does not give the impression of being a reliable friend. People will be always reminded that this whole thing… has something mercenary about it."

"I was informed that the Eridani Light Horse will not leave the service of House Davion unless something vastly immoral has occurred, or the Star League is reformed."

"Curious folk, the Eridani Light Horse." She had of course done her research. The ELH had done some impressive things, but nothing beyond the reach of the AFFS own storied regiments like say, the Crucis Lancers. She took a sip of from her glass, and laid down. She laced her fingers together under her chin. "So they have their own manufacturing now. It is easy to imagine that they found an old Star League base with its own automated plant somewhere. Of course, I will not ask about that - security reasons, I respect that - but doesn't that limit your scalability?"

"My lady, RobotniC is a creature of the Star League."

"... And that means what?"

"Our production capacity is yes."

"By that, do you mean…?" Rodina trailed off with a small frown.

"No matter what number you think of, the answer is yes. The only practical limit is shipping capacity. However many mechs and tanks Archernar and all other BattleMech production companies might want to refit, we can supply. Yes. The entire AFFS? Yes. We can supply Ferro-Fibrous armor, Double Heatsinks, CASE assemblies, and Target-Tracking Systems for many years in advance. Yes."

"... It's not a factory at all, is it? It's a factory that makes factory ships?!"

"My lady, I have absolutely no idea."

Rodina thinned her lips. "And I suppose you're going to Corean after this. You want us to sell your BattleMechs under our branding. Invest into it with land and manpower to set up a physical production line. Who is using whom as a distribution channel now again?" She let out a muted sigh.

Then she looked pained for a moment. "But why… why does it have to be Urbanmechs?"

"My lady, I have absolutely no idea."


-.
-.



Colchester
Federated Suns
Later that night

It was almost midnight and Nathan and Julia Armstrong were turning in for the night. They both had so much work that increased every day the 91st Cavalry regiment was being crash-assembled. The Brevet General of the entire Eridani Light Horse flopped on the couch while Julia put away the dishes.

Julia noticed. "Oh? Not going into your regular little communiques with the First Prince?"

Armstrong groaned. Having a HPG in his house was more of a hassle than anything, because instead of walking towards the command center and only getting summarized reports from whatever came out of the regular Colchester HPG schedule… Hanse Davion was abusing having an HPG in his Urbanmech to send him little updates of how his little ponies were operating out in the wild as tracked by MIIO.

"I think Hanse is harassing me to make Wandering Horse show up MIIO again" he said.

"So you are on first names with Hanse Davion now? How cute."

Armstrong raised his palms up in silent supplication. "A distance in the chain of command must be maintained. He knows that and I know that. He is fishing for more information."

Julia nodded. "Of course he would. The Light Horse is a danger to the Federated Suns as much as it promises to be its helpers. This is something we deal with regarding charity. Once people are too used to being helped, what happens when that help is stopped? Either resentment and feelings of betrayal, or in preparing for aid being cut off, never really trusted it in the first place."

"Well, at least Davion can always trust the Light Horse's willingness to screw over House Kurita."

Julia chuckled lightly. "And this talk about dilution of social distance has reminded me… aren't you favoring Devlin too much? I understand him being assigned as Kerensky's adjutant - if there was anyone that could break through her shell, Devlin could do it-"

"That boy, unlike any of us in the Light Horse, firmly and completely believes with zero doubt that we *are* the SLDF and we *will* rebuild the Star League. If they ever get into a philosophical argument it would be an unstoppable force meeting the immovable object."

"Haha. But really - the other cadets might start resenting this obvious nepotism. I've even been asked if Devlin wasn't actually your bastard son from somewhere and why I am being too motherly over him."

Armstrong turned to stare at her. No judgment at all in his cool and steady gaze.

Julia flushed and looked away. "So what! Devlin has never had a mother! That poor boy has absolutely no idea how to deal with women and girls. This is not nepotism from me! I'm okay with being a hypocrite!"

After a while Armstrong said "It is one thing to bring in whole regiments of Mechs. A noble buying a commission into the Eridani Light Horse should not be something we easily condone - that is the sort of thing that leads into the enormous incompetence of the Steiner social generals."

Then he pointed to a framed art piece at the wall. It looked like a photomanipulation of a gas giant to have a face like that of the RobotniC logo. A tongue-in-cheek reference to the ELH and their civilian company, one might assume.

"Devlin Stone is not a Cameron or an Amaris. We have checked. But because of Doctor Robotnik's outright goddamn future magic, we cannot even trust the reports of our equipment. Bribery is one thing. It is a different thing to be the heir to a power that far surpasses the Star League."

"So why not just let him live out the rest of his time in normal education? That would have built camaraderie instead of being singled out inspiring resentment from others in his cadre. We should be taking our time to raise him right instead of putting so much pressure on him so early."

"Because despite all that we have been doing, we can't assume that the Wolf's Dragoons will be our ally in the near future. Devlin Stone had an unnatural upbringing. He absorbs information and skills like a sponge. We don't know when the Clans will actually arrive, they might come in early prompted by some factor outside of our control. Doctor Robotnik raised his son to be the ultimate weapon to defeat the corrupted children of the Kerensky's SLDF, and we can't waste that. That weird little brain of his is disassembling the Clan Warrior ethos even as Natasha Kerensky thinks she is just being pandered to.

"The Light Horse had always rewarded going above and beyond instead of being threatened by an overachieving subordinate like the Combine grubbing for personal power. He is going to be the stone that drags the rest of the regiment along with him towards excellence or be left behind. His entire troop will serve as an object example. If mere trainees can do this - then they should also be able to do it. They just lack the effort. The motivation."

"Aren't you afraid of Devlin getting a big head?"

"Heh. The boy spent most of his life working for his meals. If anything his father raised him to have unrealistic expectations of personal responsibility."

Julia scowled. "That was borderline child abuse and that is one thing I won't forgive Dr. Robotnik for. No matter if he is a great man, he was not a great father."

"From what we know of Aleksandr Kerensky himself, this is a very common failing for such men."

 

[bluepencil]

Urbanhammer UR-HMR
 
Mass: 70 tons
Tech Base: Inner Sphere
Chassis Config: Biped
Rules Level: Experimental Tech
Era: All Eras (non-canon)
Tech Rating/Era Availability: E/X-X-F-D
Production Year: 0
Dry Cost: 6,660,883 C-Bills
Total Cost: 6,688,883 C-Bills
Battle Value: 1,490
 
Chassis: StarCorps 100 Standard
Power Plant: VOX 280 Fusion Engine
Walking Speed: 43.2 km/h
Maximum Speed: 64.8 km/h
Jump Jets: None
	Jump Capacity: 0 meters
Armor: Leviathon Plus Ferro-Fibrous
Armament:
	2 Donal PPCs
	1  SRM-6
	2 Martell Medium Lasers
	2 Magna Small Lasers
	2 SperryBrowning Machine Guns
Manufacturer: StarCorps Industries, Olivetti Weaponry, Vandenberg Mechanized Industries, Taurus Territorial Industries
	Primary Factory: Emris IV (StarCorps), Sudeten (Olivetti), Pinard (VMI), Taurus (TTI)
Communications System: O/P 3000 COMSET
Targeting and Tracking System: O/P 1500 ARB
 
================================================================================
Equipment		   Type						 Rating				   Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Internal Structure: Standard					 107 points				7.00
Engine:			 Fusion Engine				280					  16.00
	Walking MP: 4
	Running MP: 6
	Jumping MP: 0
Heat Sinks:		 Double Heat Sink			 16(32)					6.00
	Heat Sink Locations: 2 LT, 1 RT, 1 LA, 1 RA
Gyro:				Standard													   3.00
Cockpit:			Standard													   3.00
	Actuators:	  L: SH+UA+LA	R: SH+UA+LA
Armor:			  Ferro-Fibrous				AV - 197				 11.00
	Armor Locations: 1 HD, 1 CT, 2 LT, 2 RT, 2 LA, 2 RA, 2 LL, 2 RL
	CASE II Locations: 1 RT												1.00
 
						 Internal	   Armor  
						 Structure	  Factor 
Head						  3			9	 
Center Torso			  22		  30	
Center Torso (rear)				  8	  
L/R Torso				 15		   22	
L/R Torso (rear)					   8	 
L/R Arm					11		   20	
L/R Leg					15		   25	
 
================================================================================
Equipment								 Location	Heat	Critical	Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PPC										  RA		10		3		 7.00
PPC										  LA		10		3		 7.00
Machine Gun								  RT		0		 1		 0.50
Small Laser								  RT		1		 1		 0.50
Medium Laser								 RT		3		 1		 1.00
SRM-6R										  T		4		 2		 3.00
Machine Gun								  LT		0		 1		 0.50
Small Laser								  LT		1		 1		 0.50
Medium Laser								 LT		3		 1		 1.00
@SRM-6 (15)								  RT		-		 1		 1.00
@MG (200)									CT		-		 1		 1.00
											Free Critical Slots: 3
 
BattleForce Statistics
MV	  S (+0)  M (+2)  L (+4)  E (+6)   Wt.   Ov   Armor:	  7	Points: 15
4		  5	   4	   2	   0	  3	 0   Structure:  6
Special Abilities: CASEII, SRCH, ES, SEAL, SOA

 

[bluepencil]

The Charm Offensive 03

---

Colchester
Federated Suns
March 3025

"Run! Run like your life depends on it! Because it does!"

The Eridani Light Horse were well used to physical training. The seniors of the Eridani Combat School ran in a crisp formation, hardening their bodies to endure the rigors of BattleMech combat.

But Natasha Kerensky lagged behind, being the drill instructor to the youngest troops. Stone Squad ran a ragged line, swaying on the verge of exhaustion.

Tom Lexington, the smallest of the squad had William Broderweg, largest in the troop, half-picking him up by the shoulders that Tom only barely needed to keep contact with the ground. With their size difference it was like someone pushing a wheelbarrow.

"Prayer cleanses the soul - pain is weakness leaving the body!" Devlin Stone mumbled hoarsely and mindlessly with each step. "Prayer - cleanses - the - soul - pain - is - weakness - leaving - the- body-"

Bennet Brooklyn's chant was simpler. "Fak - dis - fak - dis - fak - you…"

Angela Bakko weaved, flopping her arms out as if boneless. "But who do we pray toooo?!"

She suddenly felt warm arms around her shoulders. She could not turn her head. Natasha Kerensky was cheek to cheek. "Your god is right here" the woman said.

And with a sibilant hiss "and she is fresh out of mercy."

"Waaaaaaah!"

Someone among the other soldiers of the Eridani Light Horse had to be held back from rushing out in indignation. This was just bullying of first-year cadets. No one should be expected to go straight into hell training. Too much physical toll on a developing body, much like malnutrition, could last the rest of their lives. This could impact height and bone growth and how much muscle they could naturally develop if the body gets into the habit of cannibalizing muscle for energy reserves.

And the pain and borderline child abuse, of course.

"What?" Kerensky sneered at them. "Training is not enough! When have you last pushed yourself to the point that you might die? When everything in you screams, but you must force a broken body to move anyway? It is not mere willpower anymore that pushes you then. You must go beyond resolve. That is the difference between the dead and the great! I do not need soldiers with discipline! Common, predictable methods that produce common, predictable fighters! I am looking for soldiers that immortalize themselves into legend!"

"That… sounds like… spite," wheezed Salli Maza.

Kerensky calmly stated "It is the strongest motivator."

Though their faces soured, none of the other instructors there tried to refute.


-.
-.

Tharkad
Lyran Commonwealth
March 3025

Dee. Bee. Cee.

The Donegal Broadcasting Company logo appeared for a moment, and then faded into a newsroom. "Welcome back to the Evening News. I am your host, Karl Andersen. Tonight's top story - the DEMETER CORE. Is it legitimate? We can hear that for ourselves -"

The screen changed briefly into a clip of Archon Katrina Steiner. "We have verified that the Memory Core is indeed a copy of a Star League Library. How much of the information contained within is authentic is something that can only be tested by attempting to produce its schematics. The Core itself will be open for public access and its information is released to the public domain."

Andersen returned with "If the Archon is convinced, then that's enough for me. We should not underestimate just how big the DEMETER Core means for everyone in the Inner Sphere. It's not even lostech. The Terran Hegemony carried their terraforming secrets to their grave. With this Core, we can fix so many irreplaceable systems for centuries on the verge of breaking. Worlds that are barely habitable and can't advance because their population can't support anymore, that is no longer just something we have to accept. The thirsty will be given water, the cold will be sheltered, the hungry will be fed.

"Some people have already called this year the end of the Third Succession Wars. A wise ruler will pause their warmaking in order to see how to use DEMETER to finally ease long-standing economic and structural pains. Some fear that this operational pause will only lead to a much more destructive Fourth Succession War later, but for the first time since the fall of the Star League - we are back.

"My friends, we are back. Back to the heights of humanity in its golden age. We have the tools to do it all over again. We are no longer just ignorant
The Eridani Light Horse distributed the DEMETER CORE to everybody, literally everybody, to ensure that the information will not be lost again."

Then he smiled that charming boyish smile of his, that made Karl Andersen the most beloved news anchor in the hundreds of worlds of the Lyran Commonwealth. "Everybody… except the Draconis Combine."

-.
-.

"Did they have to give it to everybody? It would have been fine to keep it to Davion and Steiner. But I guess I can't get too angry with the Eridani Light Horse for that. I understand if they got sick about our incompetent generals enough, but a hundred years of history with the Commonwealth just doesn't go away. I like that they respect their roots. They were with us for as long as they served the SLDF."

The on-the street reporter asked "How do you feel about the core not being given to House Kurita?"

"Oh that makes perfect sense. I respect them all the more for that."

-.
-.

At Tharkad University, the dean of Environmental Sciences was being interviewed.

"Don't forget that Aleksandr Kerensky himself was an alumnus of Tharkad University. The Eridani Light Horse was right to distribute the DEMETER CORE - not just for idealistic but pragmatic reasons as well. Prince Davion's NAIS has been quite notorious recently, but it is the Lyran Commonwealth that has the capacity to truly leverage this information. Terraforming demands sheer economic might, and House Steiner is best positioned to carry things through. The end of the dark ages of the Inner Sphere will not begin with lostech weapons and technology but start here, with us, from worlds revitalized and made to rejoin the web of the interstellar economy."

-.
-.



New Avalon
Federated Suns
March 3025

News and media services in the Federated Suns had an easier time getting direct access to the Eridani Light Horse for interviews. However, Colchester was effectively a no-go zone outside of their starport. Fort Bradley and its environs were restricted to the press.

A representative of the Eridani Light Horse accepted an interview in a late-night talk show. It just happened to be Robert Green-Davion, offering perspective for both the AFFS and the Eridani Light Horse.

"The contract signed with the Eridani Light Horse allows them some degree of independence when not actively engaged in operations. This is something that we have just observed to be for our benefit. No, the Eridani Light Horse did not need Prince Davion's permission to distribute CORE DEMETER. Yes, the Federated Suns was offered first refusal for any finds of such significance in the future."

"So is it true? Is the Eridani Light Horse actually the advance party of the SLDF returned? Did they make contact with the SLDF in Exile?"

"That is not something that was revealed to me as the liaison to the Eridani Light Horse, nor is it something that can be admitted so easily."

"Reports have confirmed that the ELH are going around in new ships. Warships. Those don't just come out of nowhere. If the SLDF didn't provide them, does this mean the AFFS is making them?"

"This *is* something I can answer. WarShip is a loaded term. The more proper definition is 'Assault DropShip'. Naval power is a significant advantage, yes. The ELH has provided updated plans for new JumpShips and the yards at Galax are expanding to produce these new vessels."

"Astonishing. Just how much control does the AFFS have over the Eridani Light Horse? Can they refuse orders?"

"The contract with the Light Horse puts them under the command of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns. They cannot refuse orders whose terms follow the contract. We are all professionals here, we would never give orders that are unrealistic." Robert Green-Davion carefully did not mention anything like so-called 'open orders', in which it was up to the local commanders how to carry out the objective.

The tail should not wag the dog. He wondered, with this display, if the Eridani Light Horse wanted to remind even Hanse Davion that they were horses instead of dogs and must always have the room to run free.

It would be a terrible waste if the Eridani Light Horse and the AFFS to have a competitive relationship over the same authorities and resources.

And once again, he was asked "Do the Eridani Light Horse really believe they are still the SLDF?"

And Green-Davion could only respond "Indubitably."

-.
-.

Elsewhere in Avalon City
New Avalon

Baroness Robin DeCaster was in a mild panic. It was one thing for a Baroness to speak to others of high status and to address the High Council. She had done her part to drum up support for the Vagabond Schools, talking to everyone from Dukes to space engineers and been willing to make enemies as long as it benefited the most helpless and downtrodden of the Federated Suns.

On paper, meeting with the civilian side of the Eridani Light Horse was less sensitive. Although not someone of military rank, she held a higher office and responsibility. She could be more casual with them, and it would be more comfortable to speak to people with a more practical mindset.

But the DEMETER CORE was something that no Great House, no matter their power, could ever accomplish. The Eridani Light Horse had thrown down the gauntlet and dared the rest of the Inner Sphere to come at them and pry the secrets of the Star League out of their dying hands.

This kind of crazy horse could do anything.

"Milady. Misses Julia Armstrong is here," her majordomo spoke.

Baroness nodded. "Send her in."

Julia Armstrong was no great beauty. DeCaster herself preferred only minimal affectations as required for formal occasions. This was an informal meeting, and so there was no need to dress up. She sought in Julia Armstrong's face some similarity.

There was kindness in Julia Armstrong's eyes, but also the hardness of someone who had seen many of her friends die. Yes, they did have many things in common after all.

Baroness smiled. "It is an honor to meet you, Doctor Armstrong."

"Likewise, Lady Robin."

She occupied the conversation first by asking what the civilian division of the Eridani Light Horse did. Life as a mercenary on a regimental scale meant that there was not really a true division between civilian and combatant. There were three almost caste-like divisions: combatants, civilians, and dependents.

Most mercenary regiments operated like this. The Light Horse, the Highlanders, the 12th Star Guards, Wolf's Dragoons, the Big MAC, etc. They have to secure a place far away from the fighting for their dependents before they could fight. Dependents were unspoken hostages for the mercenary's loyalty to their employers.

ELH Support and Logistics division handled everything that was not direct combat. This included training and limited merchanting to supplement the Light Horse in between missions.

"It costs Davion twenty million Cb per month just to retain the services of the Eridani Light Horse," said Julia Armstrong. "This is nothing compared to the upkeep of regiments like the Davion Heavy Guards, of course, but people need to be paid and the internal markets stocked and free time granted to visit and enjoy the outside world. The Eridani Light Horse operates as a closed system, and in times of plenty there is the temptation to buy more things and operate more powerful machines. Most is spent in maintenance, spare parts, and the rest - it takes money to make money, and so we actually also engage in investments all around the Inner Sphere."

"Can the Eridani Light Horse sustain itself like that?"

"Of course not. The RCT is large enough that only a Great House can afford us. We tried before to just sit and farm in the Periphery and it did not take." Julia shrugged. "If we are left unemployable because no one remains worthy of upholding the ideals of the Star League, then it is most moral to just leave. The game of thrones is not worth playing. But until that nightmare scenario, we will try to bring justice and defend the weak as far as we can."

"Fascinating." Baroness Robin. She took a sip of tea and put down her teacup with not even the slightest sound onto the saucer. "What does the Eridani Light Horse want of me, then? You already have the ear of Our Prince, what can the Ministry of Education do for you?"

"On that note, Lady Robin, I am curious as well. Why do Vagabond Schools take young teens in the age of eleven to thirteen instead of young adults and teach them a trade? Is a basic high school education really that valuable in the Outback?"

"To my sadness I will have to answer - yes. Yes it is that valuable. Illiteracy out in the Skid Row worlds is endemic. There are two reasons why we take such children. The first is that this is perhaps their only chance for nutrition and medical support. In their nine months of education they can try to overcome childhood malnutrition, the effects of which may last the rest of their lives. The second is that young adults cannot be spared from the hard labor necessary for life in those worlds. Education in a trade skill, such as carpentry, machining, plumbing and animal care tend to be passed down along family lines or through apprenticeship. Educated youths become valuable members of the community if they do not move on to continue their education off-world."

"Why on JumpShips though? Wouldn't it be cheaper to build a school? This limits the number you can teach at once - and what about microgravity? Wouldn't this impact their development as well?"

"There are several reasons for that as well. The first is staffing. Qualified teachers are a much rarer resource than school infrastructure. We cannot actually afford to assign teachers into each of those worlds. The teachers must move on after nine months. The second is political. By separating pupils from their environment, they are also freed from pressures from their families and social structures. Inside a Davion jumpship, we can enforce equality and correct ingrained habits and assumptions. It does no good to teach a child that all are meant to be equal under the law and go home back to vastly different living conditions. Here they can interact with each other without social barriers and learn empathy across social classes."

She paused for a moment and frowned. "The third reason… it is speculation. Schools stablished in the outback tend to suffer strange… misfortunes."

Julia nodded. "We are aware of this too. Schools and teachers on a world are always at risk, but at least there is the custom of not attacking JumpShips. Teachers are vulnerable to parental pressure and pirate raids, but the environment inside a JumpShip is one completely under your control. However... Vagabond Schools in the first place are JumpShips too old to be used even for trading anymore purchased and repaired to minimal spaceworthy condition. The Kennedy was lost in 3013 with all hands, with 500 students and crew, and containment the Sorbonne last year killed ten people including two students and a teacher. Many consider the Vagabond Schools a very expensive undertaking."

Baroness Robin DeCaster nodded. "Those deaths weigh heavily on me. They were my responsibility. But the shortages just cannot be made up."

"It appears we have the same continual problem then. Manpower." Julia smiled. "Or womanpower as the case may be. The Vagabond Schools are probably the main route that non-privileged women out in the Outback can aim for a better life on their own merits, yes?"

"Indeed. So much potential is left to wither every day." She bowed respectfully for a moment. "Life in the backwater regions of the Federated Suns is full of daily hardship and people are trapped in a cage not of their own making. What good is education, some say, when it only teaches you how to suffer even deeper from knowing just how low and deprived your existence is. Better to suffer in ignorance than to be tormented by the knowing.

"But with the DEMETER CORE, worlds that are barely habitable can become productive again - if not easier to live with. By that alone the Eridani Light Horse has changed the face of the Inner Sphere. Words alone cannot convey my gratitude."

Julia nodded back. "You are welcome."

"It is reckless and brave, and it is astonishing that someone dared to do it. I wonder though - do you understand the larger ramifications of this? So quickly you have may have set aflame a new Age of Explorers. Prospecting for lostech is inflaming the public imagination. So many people are going to get exploited and killed out there."

Julia stared back. "The alternative is letting worlds continue to starve, so we can only hope that in the end justice will balance all things."

Baroness DeCaster sighed. "I do not mean any offense. Grand gestures naturally lead to chaos. But the slow and methodical way also leaves many languishing in their misery. It was still a heroic decision." So she opened both her palms out towards Julia Armstrong. "So the question again - what does the Eridani Light Horse need from the Ministry of Education?"

"The Eridani Light Horse would like to provide the Ministry with support for the Vagabond Schools. In advance we admit that we are also looking for recruits, and ages of 12-13 is also the perfect age to begin training. However much that the Vagabond Schools serve as a pipeline towards the AFFS, as life in the military had always been a quick way to advance the livelihood of a family since antiquity, the Light Horse would like to offer youths a path to a life that while not safe is also meaningful and proud."

The baroness thinned her lips. "If it wasn't for DEMETER CORE I would think badly of this. But I believe that the Eridani Light Horse is not so simple as to be looking for cannon fodder. The lives of the Federated Sun's citizens cannot be transactional."

Then she sighed and rubbed her forehead. "But with only minimal publicity, I can guess that many would flock to your banner anyway. Soldering is a steady job with good pay and square daily meals. I fully accept this. It is a valid career. Maybe even the best career, for many."

Julia smiled and said nothing.

"Very well then. What support does the Eridani Light Horse wish to offer? Do you have some form of strange lostech that will speed up learning? Please?"

"If the Star League could just download training into people's brains, they would not have needed to set up academies," said Julia. "Nothing so convenient, I'm afraid. Nothing important is ever done quickly."

Lady Robin chuckled lightly. "A pity. Let us be realists, then. Military specialists are also very highly educated people, and we would welcome teachers with so much practical experience. Technicians to maintain our jumpships would also be much appreciated. If you want to use the Vagabond Schools as workplace training for JumpShip crews, that would be perfectly good too - we have much the same agreement with the Colleges of Savonburg and others. Or, if it comes in the form of financial support and investment, that would be acceptable as well. Our resources are meager, I freely admit."

Julia answered "There are ten operating Vagabond Schools, most of them old Invaders, Tramps, and so on - with refitted Mules serving as classrooms on DropCollars that are barely hanging on. This does not sound enough for so many worlds. These JumpShips are *dangerous*."

She turned on the palm-sized holoprojector on the table. "The Eridani Light Horse would like to offer support in the form of JumpShips and DropShips. Six NEW JumpShips. SAFE JumpShips. ROOMY JumpShips. Granted, only Scout-class, but they have been refit to maximize internal berthing. A skeleton crew of the Light Horse will accompany the Vagabond School, providing security and support against pirates and other threats. Gradually we will be filling in the crew with volunteers, and then cycle them out with fresh ships and minimal crews as they make a circuit along the Outback."

The projection showed the gravdeck layout. "These have been modified for two contra-rotating 90-meter grav decks." The outer rim spun to provide .9G, with corresponding lower apparent gravity as you go up 'higher' towards the core of the vessel. Steerage sleeping berths were triple-layer bunk beds at the second ring at 80% Terran gravity, with sufficient room and life support for two hundred people, or approximately 180 students and 20 teachers.

They also had room for six fightercraft, two Small Craft, and a thousand tons of cargo. That sounded… unrealistic.

"They will operate in pairs, sufficient to support more than four hundred students and teachers at any one time and bringing a company of mechs and ASF for defense. First Prince Hanse Davion has already given approval to this measure that serves both education and defense of the system during the duration."

Baroness DeCaster blinked. "Excuse me, what?"

"The DRIFTING HORSE has allocated JumpShips for the Vagabond Schools as long as you let us do some recruiting along the way. As we also possess the Primary Copy of the DEMETER CORE, we also have permission to inspect and possibly repair terraforming facilities along the way. We will be recruiting or training space crew, fighter pilots, medics, and technicians along the way."

Baroness DeCaster blinked. She blinked again. She blinked some more.

She closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. Opened them with a hard burning gaze and spoke: "I accept. I do not question this. I accept."

Julia quirked her lips. "Really? Not even a question?"

"Are you actually the SLDF?"

"Of course we are. We have always been."

The baroness looked away and shrugged as if to say 'I knew the question would be pointless'.

Why even try to look in the horse's mouth? Because they might be carrying Danaans inside.

She faced forwards again and asked "Very well then, in seriousness, how soon can this be done?"

"Immediately."

"So you just have six new JumpShips that you can dispense away from the war at any time, hm? No, no - that is not a question. I do not need to know more about this." She began fanning her own face with her hands. "I fear that knowing… will only make it worse for me."

"My lady, did you not just lament the uneducated of the Outback preferring contented ignorance over miserable knowledge?"

"Exactly for those reasons. I choose not to be suspicious of the Eridani Light Horse and trust that you know what you are doing." They were owed at least that much for the DEMETER CORE. The Eridani Light Horse banked so much goodwill with this, that even if they were wiped out in battle after this the Inner Sphere would still remember them.

Julia Armstrong smiled back beatifically. And carefully not to let anything on her expression show 'We actually have no idea what we are doing'.

The stakes were high enough that they might as well throw everything at the wall and see what sticks. It was not enough to merely own a planet with a face.

-.
-.

 

[bluepencil]

The Charm Offensive 04

---

Colchester
Federated Suns
March 3025

The Eridani Light Horse set up a third camp for the Kerensky crash course. While normally Stone troop slept in the same regular barracks as the rest of the cadets, now they had their own little bunkroom.

Tom Lexington sat at a dark corner, knees up in a fetal position, sniffling with tears. Angela Bakko and Salli Maza sat beside the smallest of the troop and made soothing comments as they wiped dribbling snot off his nose.

"It's okay, it's okay…"

"No it's n-not!" Tom whimpered. "I just..l I just wanted to be on the Engineering track, you know? I didn't ask for this! T-this is unfair. Go ahead call me weak and crybaby, I don't care anymore!"

Everyone turned towards Bennet Brooklyn. He scowled and crossed his arms. "Tch. You're one of us. I ain't calling you week just because you cry. That's fair. We're supposed to just be doing basic training -" then he turned towards Devlin Stone. "YOU KNOW WHOSE FAULT THIS IS."

"You have strange conceptions about my influence on Brevet General Nathan Armstrong," Devlin blandly replied. But not untrue.

Devlin sat down kneeling with his legs folded under him, the seiza position, in front of Tom. "I am sorry. There are only some things I can say, I hope they will make you feel better."

"I… I doubt it."

"Kerensky's parole only lasts for three months. It's not like she will be around long enough to impact our physical development. You only have to endure this for seven more weeks."

"That doesn't make me feel any better at all!" Tom wailed.

Hudson Asner rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration "Jesus Christ, Stone."

"Sorry. This is just how Kerensky was raised. This is how I was raised-"

Angela and Salli abruptly turned aside and spoke as one "That's child abuse!" before returning to hug little Tom.

Devlin shrugged. "Three months in unlikely to permanently harm our bodily development. The problem isn't that we are being subjected to harsh training, but that we are being subjected to harsh training for adults. We shouldn't be doing this."

"I bet you're just enjoying this," Bennet spat.

"I'm not. I still have to make a presentation on why this whole thing is stupid and why the Spartan way doesn't work."

"Are you actually… telling me to give up?" Tom sniffed and looked up with red eyes.

"You can give. You may all give up. You are the ones allowed to give up. No one would think bad of you, we are after all cadets being given the full special forces training well ahead of time."

"That's implying you're not going to be allowed to give up," said Salli Maza.

Devlin nodded. "As long as one of us persists, the adults can't reject Kerensky's teachings out of hand. It would be too shameful to give up when a child does not. Right now they are working through spite and they will complete the objective as ordered. But they are not analyzing it sufficiently to beat it on its own terms. Kerensky, despite her looks, is not stupid. By torturing us with the full regimen, she is ensuring that cadets in our own grade do not see this as much as unwarranted favoritism as but a harsh voluntold exercise."

"Is that it?" Salli asked with a scowl. "We're just here for, what, motivational purposes? Why can't we just do that from the sidelines? Being watched should be enough."

"The Eridani Light Horse understands the powers of trust and commitment. That is why military training is basically a form of group torture. By the shared struggle and the ability to both prevent and cause group suffering, this results in high trust relationships that can allow men and women to risk their lives for each other on a regular basis. There is a difference between doing something dangerous and difficult with someone who can just leave at any time and one that is unable to leave. If Tom leaves, then you must all leave."

Tom Lexington abruptly stopped breathing. Angela squeaked and began more firmly rubbing the boy's back to bring him out of his panic attack.

"That's sick, Stone. Putting all that pressure on Tom instead of the shite you brought us all into."

"It all comes down to trust. A professional military trusts that their comrades around them will not abuse them, steal from them, or fail them, and that their rear echelon units will be able to support them no matter how thick the battle. But it also comes down to trust in yourself. It is normal for us human beings to shy away from pain and solve things so that we can do them without pain. Pain is the enemy where your only opponent is yourself. Sometimes the only lesson that suffering teaches is pain.

"But as soldiers, we know that the pain we suffer is for a purpose. Pain and sweat in training saves blood and flesh on the battlefield. We are pushed to our limits because we don't know them until we reach them. Pain. Exhaustion. Distraction. Pain and hesitation *kills*. We are not Kuritas who torture their recruits just to reduce them to compliant meat-slaves. Pain needs to have purpose as a personal trial.

"If we can push through pain, we save more than ourselves. As the ancients said, the morale is to the physical as three is to one. If you don't give up in the face of pain, you don't give up in the face of death, and your enemies will break before you do. Without morale, without *trust*, all the best kit and lostech mean nothing.

"Tom, if you give up here, then that's fine. That is all the Tom you can be. But I know you can do better than that. You won't break. A hero always at first tries to refuse the call. If you don't want to be a MechWarrior, that is fine too. But knowing yourself, that you can survive Kerensky's hell, that… that has value too.

"Stone Squad was chosen for a reason, and it's not just nepotism. It is not enough that you suffer. You must be worthy. It is not enough that you have power. You must have vision. This is what separates elites from veterans. The ability to look beyond the now.

"I believe that this isn't the end of it. I believe in the Tom Lexington that doesn't give up when it gets too hard. Because nothing's too hard when you've got your friends around you. If you don't believe in yourself, then believe in the me that believes in you!"

Devlin jabbed at his chest with a thumb and then pointed at Tom with two hands and an unnaturally wide grin on his face.

Tom stared at him like Stone was some sort of strange and illogically flamboyant and multi-colored tropical animal. Perhaps even one with a bright red butt.

-.


Colchester
Federated Suns
March 3025

"In summary: Training from a very young age does not produce superior soldiers. It creates a meaningfully inferior combatant due to stunted development than what would otherwise be available. A brutalized recruit does not make for a brutal, stronger warrior - just a traumatized one, a reckless one, and a society made of brutalized warriors is a brutal and short-sighted society.

"The Spartan way, much like House Kurita of today, is an inefficient power due to always needing to reserve its strength to counter a brutalized slave population. It creates loyalty through fear. It cannot mobilize all of its strength because the fear of being seen as weak is as dangerous as bullets and bombs. A more democratic society, like that of the Federated Suns, can rally back after defeats without cannibalizing itself and find victory without obsessing over 'decisive battle'.

"In much the same way, child soldiers glorify war without thinking about what victory actually looks like. It is so much of a sunk cost fallacy. A society that relies on child soldiers is likely also one that is lacking in logistics. Being too obsessed with only having the best to the point you would *break* potential recruits is a waste."

Devlin Stone raised a fist. He had dark shadowy panda eyes. "It is wastefulness!"

Tom Lexington looked up with a face of glittering admiration. "So he actually *did* make a slide presentation."

Bennet Brooklyn groaned and palmed his face. "Dammit to hell. When am I going to remember that Stone doesn't make jokes? He treats *everything* stupidly seriously."


-.
-.


Luthien
Draconis Combine
Meanwhile

Takashi Kurita had gone past blinding rage into some form of focused almost blissful calm.

He leaned back, watching with steepled fingers, as the Warlords of the Draconis Combine tried to shout each other down. The Black Room within the Imperial Palace was a sealed ultra-secure room for the most important meetings in the empire. The Warlords had been summoned from their own Districts, and in this meeting they were more concerned with trying to pull down each other than vying for his throne.

As it was as it always had been for the Coordinators of the Draconis Combine, a position of seeming absolute power that stood only through the careful maneuvering of greedy and ambitious subordinates.

Unlike the nobles of say House Davion or House Steiner, nobles of each world, even governors of district capitals, lacked effective power outside of their own worlds. All military power was subordinated to the superstructure of military commanders. Planetary nobility obeyed in exchange for their lives, which grants Warlords a very high degree of authority in how best to accomplish the Coordinator's orders swiftly.

In many ways, the Coordinator of House Kurita, despite having much more direct power, was less capable of exercising direct authority than the Chancellor of the much less potent House Liao.

"This insult cannot be allowed!" roared one of the Warlords.

"It is as I said-" spoke a tall and wiry man with a sagging neck. This was Warlord Grieg Samsonov, Warlord of Galedon. "The Wolf's Dragoons are not to be trusted. As mercenaries their fame is overblown. They have always been due for a humbling."

"But it is also more mercenaries that stopped them. Mercenaries against mercenaries," objected Vasily Cherenkoff, Warlord of the Dieron Military District. "The Dragoons were beaten in space. They beat your 8th Galedon decisively on the ground as well, did they not? Even if the Eridani Light Horse were using lostech, it is not as if we would be foolish enough not to use a similar advantage when the chance presents itself."

As commander of the smallest district but also the region most often embroiled in war, he felt had the place to point out military failures by other Warlords.

"The Eridani Light Horse are not unbeatable, the Dragon has faced them many times before," spoke Warlord Ivan Sorenson, of the history of the Rasalhague Military District. Tall, blonde-haired, and blue-eyed, he almost looked as if right out of a Steiner recruiting poster. "They are honorable and difficult adversaries."

Ukita Yoriyoshi, Warlord of Benjamin, interjected "It is to me much more dangerous that the Eridani Light Horse were able to defeat the Wolf's Dragoons in space at all. The Dragoons had at least been dutiful enough to send as much information as they could back to their jumpships. As the Horses met the Wolves halfway into the system, there was not enough time to catch the JumpShips before they could jump back out."

Although centrally located with all four other Districts of the Combine bordering it, the Benjamin District was considered a backwater region. Planets were sparse towards the Davion border, and though certain worlds were repeatedly contested - Prosperina and Galtor, for example, the rest of the worlds along the connective economic spine of the Combine were placid and unremarkable with little in the form of militarily significant industries.

Benjamin lacked attention from the overall DCMS military procurement system, but that did not mean it lacked wealth. Yoriyoshi was known for funding his Benjamin Regulars out of his own pocket and was an avid technologist. He continued "These Assault DropShips the Horses were using, I theorize they are heavily reinforced Overlords. The ranges by which they started engaging the Dragoons' own Overlords, it seems the Davions have access to Extended Range Lasers. They have lostech. It could be dangerous if these ships were to be used to punch through into their own invasions."

"The Eridani Light Horse could have dug it up from a SLDF cache. The same cache they brought out… " Here Kester Hsiun Chi, Warlord of Pesht, hesitated. Although he commanded the region that included Luthien, Pesht Military District's regiments were usually considered green and untested showpieces. He looked towards Takashi Kurita for guidance.

At Takashi's slow blink, he continued "Where the Horses brought out the DEMETER CORE. Something happened to make them aware of long-hidden SLDF treasures. Was there more on Hoff that we did not realize?"

House Kurita considered it a victory to have successfully raided the world, but Davion considered it a victory that at least the scientists escaped. It would not imply that the Coordinator made a mistake.

Samsonov growled softly and responded "There are reports from New Avalon that the Davions now have mass production of lostech such as Double HeatSinks and Ferro-Fibrous armor." He turned towards Takashi and bowed. "I beg your forbearance, my lord, our own scientists should be redoubling their efforts to reverse-engineer the samples we have taken."

It was his 17th Galedon, alongside Wolf's Dragoons, that attacked Hoff back in 3023, and could take his share of the glory.

"Refitting the AFFS would be a costly and time-consuming endeavor. In the short term, this is not likely to be relevant," added Warlord Sorenson. "The assault dropships already exist, therefore it is necessary to have shipkiller weapons."

"Or create some of our own," Warlord Yoriyoshi added without concealing his glee.

"I suppose so, yes," replied Warlord Hsuin Chi, as the only shipyards that managed to survive the devastation of the Succession Wars happened to do so because they were far and away behind the lines in the Pesht District.

"That will also take time, said Warlorld Cherenkoff. "The best way to disrupt the enemy's plans is to attack!"

Murmurs of agreement passed through the table. "But where?" asked Warlord Yoriyoshi. "It is obvious that Davion is preparing Harrow's Sun as a death trap. Though if it is only mercenaries like the Dragoons to die for it, then it would not be much loss. Let them do so, and see if Davion is willing to thin out the defense to save their precious little Horses while we strike at another important world at the same time."

Cherenkoff smirked. So far, Yoriyoshi had not been allowed to cover himself in glory. With the Dragoons quartered on Misery, a central position against the Draconic March, which is the Galedon District, most of the action that occurred all along a wide range on the Davion front happened without their participation.

Yoriyoshi only had seven regiments on the border, while his region as it touched both Steiner and Davion space had seventeen. Samsonov had twelve in the bordering Matsuida and Kaznejov Prefectures.

As the discussion petered down, all the Warlords turned their attention towards Takashi Kurita. They must have his permission first before deciding on the world to attack.

Takashi raised his chin and spoke coldly "This situation is not as dire as others would have us believe. They provoke us to act rashly, and stupidly, and we will not give their delusions any satisfaction.

"Jaime Wolf will come to me in supplication. If he wants his Epsilon regiment back, then he must exchange something with me. The DEMETER CORE is an insult, but it is irrelevant. It will be in our hands soon enough. Now we all have a common cause - the utter destruction of the Eridani Light Horse!"

-.
-.

New Avalon
Federated Suns
March 3025

Hanse Davion voluntold "Ardan! Have a morning jog with me."

Ardan groaned.

Because when Hanse now meant with a morning jog was less actual physical exercise but running around the palace on a pair of Super Urbanmechs. It would have made more sense if they were using a more humanoid Valkyrie BattleMech, but the armless Urbanmech had cruise control. Sitting around in plush seats was the opposite of exercise.

Tightbeam transmission between two Urbanmechs, passive ECM, and automatically scrubbed recorders was the only time they could use the Ground Mobile HPG. The ELH… or maybe the Star League… did something to make HPG transmissions completely silent while being used, it would only be the emergence of the HPG transmission would cause that electromagnetic burst. Or not, if it secretly happened to go from golden ring to another golden ring with almost the rest of the equipment doing nothing.

If one trusted Wandering Horse, this was the most secure vector for communications, far more than even Luthien's shielded Black Room.

"So I heard you were training the Davion Heavy Guards and the Light Guards against each other. Trying to work out what it would take for a Light Cavalry Regiment to beat a Heavy Regiment like the Dragoons? How is that turning out?"

Ardan looked pleased even if he was not directly participating in the present conflicts on the Liao border. "Better than expected. Of course, exercises are a costly undertaking, but the Heavy Guards are finding it more useful to drill against fast enemies and the Light Guards are left trying to work out more ways to inflict damage against a far less impulsive enemy that doesn't want to cooperate in giving chase."

"And you, General? How is Kerensky's boot camp working out for you?"

Nathan Armstrong responded "Kerensky is a beast and we had no chance of beating her in an honest fight. But we are developing our doctrine. The Dragoons are good, but combined arms seems to be a minor hole in their operations."

"Do you think your 21st Strikers regiment can hold out if the Dragoons attack Harrow's Sun to take back their Epsilon regiment? You know that they know that you are too honorable to just execute them out of hand."

"Possibly. The 21st Strikers is also an infantry heavy force, and it is unwise for mechwarriors to underestimate infantry."

"How so?" asked Ardan. "Heavy Mechs are hard enough to beat, even with armor and aircraft."

"Infantry-based TAG," replied Armstrong. "The Dragoons also love to use artillery, but they can't love it more than we do, who integrate it on the battalion level." His figure on the holo laced its palms together under its nose in a conspiratorial posture. "You could call over the Crater Cobras if they want to join in on the fun."

"Oh. They are a SLDF-derived mercenary unit too aren't they?" Hanse tapped on a console in the roomy and office-like Urbanmech cockpit. The search on Poni> where are the crater cobras returned to him "They are on Deneb Kaitos holding fort while the Deneb Light Cavalry are on the border. Interesting. They are not near enough to cycle into the fight unless there is a line of traders conveniently present to act like a command circuit towards Harrow's Sun. If you are looking for other SLDF daughter units, the Blue Star Irregulars are only a jump away on Ozawa. Both of them are guarding against Kurita actions from the Dieron Prefecture. Unfortunately, as we are waiting on the Combine timetable here, you would have to do this mostly on your own if you want to represent the SLDF. And the Deneb Light Cavalry, of course, if that counts."

Armstrong nodded. "Also, Gauss Rifle field guns."

Phffft. Hanse spat out the pre-dawn hot chocolate he was drinking through a straw, splattering the main screen. Fortunately, everything was also waterproof.

"Damnation, why do these Urbies tempt you to use their cup holders?!" he groused. He opened a panel for some cleaning cloth.

Ardan chuckled lightly. Once inside an Urbanmech, Hanse was so much more a cheery and childish sort. A far cry from the affable but cooly calculating impression he had to wear in public. It might still be a false face he put on to make others relax in his presence, but there was more truth in it than he would care to admit. You are already judged heavily for using an Urbanmech, once inside there would be no condemnation.

As this was clearly a whim by the First Prince, might as well follow through. None but Armstrong seemed to treat Hanse with such sheer disrespect.

This pair of hopeless comedians, Ardan Sortek sighed. May they quit their jobs and find the unimpressed audience they deserve.

"By the way, Hanse Davion," Armstrong continued blithely "are you still planning on baiting the DCMS into wrecking themselves on the rumors of an intact SLDF facility on Galtor?"

"Mm," Hanse mumbled, pleased. "It should not surprise me that Wandering Horse knows about that. Do you have any objections or additional information on this?"

"We do. There *is* an intact SLDF facility on Galtor."

"What."

"Three thousand kilometers south of the fake site, just some distance south of the Middle Way pass. Defending two sites would split your forces too much and risk defeat."

"Why did you not say this earlier?" asked Ardan.

"We only learned of it just recently."

Hanse rubbed at his chin. That sounded like an excuse, but at least a plausible one. And the Eridani Light Horse would not be telling them this if they had the intent to harm. "The false site has already been prepared. You are correct, it would be dangerous to start digging now - but letting Kurita get their hands on real SLDF technology would also be dangerous. Do you recommend protection through indifference?"

"You have us, Hanse Davion. Lostech treasures are… less relevant now. Destroying House Kurita's ability to wage war is the more important objective, your commanders would have been just distracted by… uh, what is that word? The shinies. We in the Inner Sphere are all far too conditioned to grub for lostech."

"Distracted by the shiny. Nice. Do you desire to participate in the Galtor campaign or will the Light Horse focus entirely on countering the Dragoons?"

"We are also… interested… in doing something about the 11th Benjamin Regulars on Tripoli."

-.
-.

 

[bluepencil]

Doctrine 01

---

Colchester
Federated Suns
January 3025

Tankers filled the large prefab sports arena/auditorium. Tank commanders, that is. There were a lot of them, and they would not all fit even if the Eridani Light Horse tried. Most of them were from the 21st Strikers and 121st Dark Horse Regiment, as the 71st was out there fulfilling Davion objectives while the other two regiments recovered and retrained.

The 151st Dark Horse was the most elite of the three Regiments operated by the Eridani Light Horse. With half their number down after Hoff, reconstituting the regiment was slow going. Normally the ELH would fill in the ranks from the two sister regiments - the 71st White Horse and the 21st Strikers - as a sort of sideways promotion.

But then Eridani High Command announced that they planned on establishing a new fourth regiment.
It would not be the 19th Striker Regiment, as it would be grossly disrespectful to the memory of their ancestors lost in the war to retake Terra, but a 91st Cavalry Regiment.

The Eridani Light Horse owed their name from 2479 when, assigned to the Rasalhague District, they routed attacking Combine forces like "speedy Eridani steeds chasing after fat Luthien cows". How they wanted to accomplish this was easy to understand. If undignified.

Even for a tank commander like Beth Duncan, it was hard to ignore the multiple regiments worth of Urbanmechs that had arrived. The ELH had to build new hangar just to keep them out of the elements and prying eyes trying to get an accurate count. Improbably fast Urbanmech regiments, what the hell.

But just like the rest of the Eridani Light Horse's tank officers, she was much more excited to hear that the Light Horse had SIX Alacorn Mark VIs on hand. She commanded a Von Luckner 75-ton Heavy Tank in the 151st Dark Horse Regiment, 9th Recon Battalion, Strike Lance.

Beth's father was a retired MechWarrior that taught at the Eridani Combat School, her uncle was an AeroSpace Fighter pilot, her brother was an infantry officer, and her sister worked as DropShip crew. She inherited her Von Luckner tank from her mother who had died in combat.

The tanned young woman with freckles crossing her nose sat stiffly on the plastic monobloc chair, and looked around.

The Eridani Light Horse spread their collection of Von Luckner tanks around the three regiments as heavy support formations. A lance of Von Luckers striking from ambush with their AC/20s could take down an enemy lance in seconds. There was no mechwarrior vs tanker divide in the Light Horse, they were fervent believers in combined arms. However, it was still true that the ELH lacked sufficient front-line vehicle power to push through on their own. The relatively slow speed of heavy tanks meant that they would forever be second in line to Assault Mechs.

Now the Engineering Division called together all the Von Luckners, Manticores, and Demolisher commanders, all the heaviest and deadliest of the entire Eridani Light Horse's combat vehicle complement. Beth Duncan sat beside another Von Luckner commander: Rose Martinson, of the 3rd Heavy Assault Company "Wrecking Crew" of the same regiment but in a different battalion.

The short but buxom woman whispered "You know what I think? This meeting better be about starting an Assault Tank company with those Alacorns at the spearhead. Who gets to command those beauties? I don't know about you, but I'd trade up in a heartbeat!"

Beth scowled. It felt disrespectful to discard the tank that her mother died in. On the other hand, she did almost do the same thing - die in that tank - in the frenetic scuffle on Hoff. The Von Luckner in question was still under repairs, as finding a 225 Rated Fusion Engine and refitting one to fit on a tank was slow going even for the Federated Suns' famous logistics train.

She gestured over to a group near the front. "Tin Can Company's probably going to get it."

That assembly was commanded by Captain Klause Hesse, attached to the 21st Strikers, and they were the ELH's premier combat vehicle company. They held a uniform assembly of Von Luckners and Pegasus Hover Tanks in whole lances in the SLDF style for hammer and anvil tactics. They ran with six vehicles per lance.

At the head of the auditorium was a stage and an officer stepped up to the podium. The concrete floor clattered with clicking boots as everyone else immediately stood up to attention.

"At ease," spoke Major Wendell F. TeCarr, administrative second in command of the Eridani Light Horse.

The tankers sat back down.

-.
-.

"Doctrine!" spoke Major Wendell F. TeCarr from the podium. "Operational doctrine must continue to evolve and refine itself, occasionally reverting back to older and simpler ways, for no doctrine is perfect. The superiority of SLDF doctrine is in its flexibility and the ruthless exploitation of initiative. Fight the war you're in with what you have. Minimize casualties while inflicting maximum havoc on the enemy. Simple to speak, difficult to carry out in practice.

"The Eridani Light Horse has survived three hundred years fighting and doing the most from a position of scarcity. While it is true that we never really lacked for supplies in the employ of the Lyran Commonwealth, for whatever lack in stratagem the Lyrans could compensate for with sheer economic power, it remains that over time the Eridani Light Horse has… diminished.

"We have little left of our physical inheritance from the SLDF. All we have left is the doctrine of the thinking soldier, the well educated fighting man and woman that can exploit every opportunity from the lowest boot on the ground to the commander watching the planetary campaign map. We have changed the doctrine to survive in these Succession Wars.

"To be children of the SLDF is to be adaptable to changing circumstances!

"And now… for a multititude of reasons, we must drastically adapt our means and ways again. What if… we no longer need to fight from a position of scarcity anymore?"

He paused. The thin man smiled and stroked at his pencil mustache. "You might have been paying attention to recent events. No, we did not just salvage some strange Urbanmech depot. The new doctrine asks - how would YOU prefer to fight if you had nearly SLDF levels of resupply again?"

The auditorium rang with garrulous shouting. TeCar let them mutter among themselves for a few seconds and then held up his palm. The ELH officers all immediately stopped.

"You all are here as representatives of the Light Horse's vehicle command. Our vehicular complement will also benefit from the refits and advanced technology we have access to. In fact, one might argue it is vehicle combat that benefits the most from advanced technology, and every bit of advantage matters.

"Our customs have it that tanks and other combat vehicles can be inherited from parent to child, in an unbroken line leading back to the fall of the Star League. This is not from stratified nobility as the Lords of the Inner Sphere do, but because it is a duty that must be earned. Our forebears trusted into us, their children, the future of the regiment - and from us to our children, that the Eridani Light Horse continue to shine the light of the Star League into the ever-distant tomorrow.

"We may order the refitting and refurbishment of the Light Horse Regimental Combat Team from above, but we will not do so without your input. A soldier of the SLDF is always conscious of their options.

"And so it is with this in mind, that we now should listen well to Chief Engineer Eligio Cade-"

-.
-.

It turned out that yes, Beth's prediction was right. The Alacorns *were* being assigned to the 21st Strikers. The 21st were being upgraded to Royal versions with DHS and ER weaponry for the explicit purpose of fucking up the Wolf's Dragoons.

The 121st were due for much deeper refits and more boring downtime.

Beth Duncan walked out of there, like most of the officers, numb and pensive with the revelations. Rose however stretched out like a cat and then beamed.

"Well that just confirms it, doesn't it?" she said.

Beth raised an eyebrow. "No it doesn't. They said 'in complete and unequivocal terms - we are not being resupplied by the SLDF. Or the Terran Hegemony.'"

"Why do they keep dancing around the words and just say it?! Oh 'we have access to functionally unlimited quantities of Extra Light Engines' like who the heck would be building these things brand new then? It's annoying and nobody believes silly technical denials anyway. Who are they trying to fool" She pursed her lips out. "THE FOOOOOLS."

"How insubordinate," Beth replied in dry tone.

Rose smirked. "So. They wanna upgrade our rides. They wanna upgrade ALL our rides. I'm going to say yes. What about you?"

Beth grimaced. Logically… of course she should say yes. But ripping out the Fusion Engine of a tank to replace with an Extra Light Engine requires extensive internal remodeling, and changing the main gun from a single AC/20 to a Gauss Rifle and a PPC involved a new turret swap. The ancestral Von Luckner would barely be the same tank anymore at the end of it.

Emotionally, would it still be the same tank baptized with the blood of her mother and all the worthy crew through the generations before her?

Eridani High Command could certainly just make it an order for regimental strategic operations, but this inheritance of war machines was not like the nobles of the inner sphere possessing their ancestral battlemechs.

"We earned the right to command these machines as the fulfillment of an oath," she repeated TeCarr's speech. "Our forebears trusted in us, their children, the future of the regiment - and from us to our children, that the Eridani Light Horse continue to shine the light of the Star League into the ever-distant tomorrow." Then Beth added her own thoughts "If we upgrade everything just because we can, won't that make them all harder to repair and maintain? We had a position of plenty before, what if we just lose it again and then need to operate from a position of scarcity again? This is kind of suspicious, you know? We are working for Davion now, but this looks like someone else is trying to tie us down into someone else's supply chain."

Rose nodded, then then shrugged. "But are we the SLDF, or are we not? Are you going to let sentimentality get in the way of winning? Reviving the Star League?"

Beth winced. Everything the Eridani Light Horse did now had that unspoken intent. Formerly, the ELH did their best to wait and survive until the SLDF returned. Now… it was like High Command had suddenly become mulish enough to want to fight the entire goddamn Inner Sphere by themselves if necessary.

Surely Davion could feel the tension in the air too?

-.

The Von Luckner tank had a name. She was the "Lucky Miss".

Still lucky even thought sometimes her crew needed to be hosed off the hull, because the tank had managed to be recoverable even through centuries of battle. The fusion engine remained intact and no ammo explosion ever split the tank in half. That was even miraculous due to how many different types of ammo the tank had to carry for its many weapons systems.

The tank had a regular crew of four. Beth Duncan, commander. Paris Fernanda, gunner. Jocelyn Xiang, driver. Diogenes Eckhard, comms and sensors. Due to Eridani Light Horse training doctrine, all of them had sufficient technical skill sufficient to maintain and do ad hoc repairs to tank systems. Beth regaled them with the points of the meeting.

"So they want to change the "Miss Fusion" engine to an XL Fusion? Pardon me, boss, but don't XL Fusions also be bulkier than regular ones?" said Paris.

Diogenes gestured to the back of the tank. "Most of the ammo stowage for the AC/20 goes into the turret with the Gauss Rifle having capacitors. The techs are going to find a way somehow."

Beth crossed her arms. "No problems with replacing the main gun?"

Paris replied "Boss, I would be a total dumbarse not to prefer having a GAUSS RIFLE and A PPC in exchange for a single AC/20."

"There's two versions you said," said Diogenes. "The XL Fusion could mean more speed or more firepower. The main gun… or two main guns… are basic to both versions. So the difference between the two is just missile armament."

"Some sort of Multi-Missile Launcher, hey?" Paris nodded eagerly. "That's new. A nine-shot launcher or a five-shot launcher." He slapped the paper with the proposed loadouts. "Artemis guidance package, even! This is some nice gear, bosslady."

Beth turned to the driver. "What do you think, Joyce?"

The woman shrugged. "Ma'am, if you're asking me which is worth it - more guns or more speed, I'm always on the side of more speed. If we go from Assault Mech speeds to Heavy Mech speeds, that lets us get into more fights than just waiting in ambush."

They were part of 9th Recon's Strike Lance, and the two other tanks in the augmented lance of 4 mechs + 3 tanks were a pair of Galleons. Tactics basically boiled down to luring the enemy into AC/20 bushwacking range.

"We might end up being assigned to escort the Alacorns. They are also planning on building three Assault Tank lances out of them - two Alacorns, two Von Luckners, eight Gauss Rifles brought to bear."

"Then I must insist on speed, ma'am! Escort vehicles need to be slightly faster than the thing they are escorting so that they can't be left flat-footed."

"If we are only as slow as Alacorns though, a larger missile load would be more useful against air threats," mused Diogenes. "On the other hand, being as slow as Alacorns means we would also only be deployed when Alacorns are needed. Too valuable to lose, too potent not to use."

"No offense boss, but even if we already spend most times in recon just waiting around, aiming to surprise a light mech counterforce… feels to me not getting to fight as much is like a sideways demotion. I personally don't envy the dudes given the honor of being Alacorn crew."

Beth nodded. "High command is really confident about this. I don't know why. Upgrading is dangerous if we can't get more advanced tech to repair the damage. I suppose a standard PPC isn't hard to find if the Gauss Rifle gets wrecked."

Jocelyn's gaze tightened. "Because we are the SLDF and this is our time," she said with a fanatical glimmer in her eyes.

Beth sighed and began rubbing her forehead. "I keep hearing that a lot, and I'm wondering if we're getting too haughty about this and when that is going to bite us in the ass."

-.
-.

Colchester
Federated Suns
February 3025

The 21st Strikers Regiment had the focus of all the Eridani Light Horse's engineers. They were the one fully intact regiment of the ELH that was at home and could be flexibly deployed.

The 21st did not involve anything as extensive as Fusion Engine changes, but had universally changed to DHS and Ferro-Fibrous armor. ER and Pulse weaponry would be a surprise. However, they had an extensive infantry and fighter component too, and was the most well-rounded among the regiments. Colonel Winston had decades of experience. If there was someone the Light Horse could have confidence in sending against any fight, it would be the 21st Strikers.

The 21st Strikers were on their way to Harrow's Sun.

91st Regiment, 2nd Battalion, Allwine's Battalion had already set out, fully upgraded with fast Heavy mechs, and crushed Kurita's 8th Galedon on New Aberdeen.

Stimson Battalion, now the 1st Battalion of the 91st, was filling up with fresh machines and graduates.

This left the 121st twiddling thumbs on Colchester. Natasha Kerensky had yet to arrive.

The solution was simple.

-.
-.

Seen from above, a company was conducting a search and destroy mission.

A Wolverine, two Hunchbacks, and Blackjack - that command lance covered all combat ranges.

Following behind were a group of seven combat units - three mechs: Griffin, a Stinger, and a Locust; and three tanks: a Von Luckner and two Galleons.

Roving ahead of the group was the Scout Lance composed of a single Locust and three light scout vehicles; a 20-ton Packrat and two 8-ton Darters.

This was the 9th Recon Company that Beth Duncan belonged to.

-.
-.


People often said that being in the military was mainly about hurrying up to wait. This was not exactly true. Only about 10% of time in the military was combat. Sixty percent waiting around or doing maintenance. The rest of the time?

Meetings.

30% of all the hours ever spent. Meetings.

Welcome to the life of a professional military.

Captain Gary Werent, commander of the 9th Recon Company "Grey Gales" of the Sixth Recon Battalion of the 121st Dark Horse Regiment, gestured with a laser pointer to the after-action report on the projected screen. "So, in summary - what have we learned from our mock battle with the 4th Recon Company?"

This was part of the job of a company commander. They had to evaluate themselves then pass it up to battalion command and how their views differed. Discrepancies were useful. If a force had nothing to do, then make train and evaluate themselves. Bored soldiers were just the worst.

The "Sneaky Devils" were the 4th Company in the Sixth Recon Battalion "Stimson's Stealthers", which itself used to be the third Battalion of the 121st Dark Horse. Once again, Beth was in the second actual battalion named the Eighth Recon Battalion "Cyclones".

The "Grey Gales" and the "Sneaky Devils" were in many ways mirrors of each other. They also had a Von Luckner in their Support Lance, it was just that the rest of the lance consisted of a pair of Manticores and a Galleon, which was a hell of weight advantage versus Beth's own tank lance of one Von Luckner and two Galleons.

The two recon battalions of the 121st fought it each before one permanently leaves to become the 1st Cav Battalion of a new regiment. It was their goodbye activity before becoming different commands. It was somewhat sad, but at the same time Beth also felt it was right to try their hardest to pound their sibling company to the ground.

Lt. Patricio Saludo, lead of the company's Recon Lance, raised his hand. "It sucks to get our ass beat, sir!"

Beth clapped her palms over her face and groaned.

"Something less obvious, Lieutenant," Captain Werent replied dryly.

"Okay. We got our ass beat by Urbanmechs and it sucks, sir! Goddamn Urbanmechs are short enough that they blend into the treeline. But we almost got them because ER PPCs don't have enough of a refire rate. Urbies just cannot handle Jump Infantry *at all*. They're armless!" Everyone immediately groaned at the pun.

Even with that aside, a combat exercise that involved infantry jumping onto mechs and slapping explosive charges onto mech canopies was still a highly risky activity. Jump infantry were among the most reckless of fighters in the entire Inner Sphere.

He continued "But we lost not just because of their Star League tech advantage, but because they outnumbered us with their mixed lances. Normally the Recon Lance being infantry and light scout vehicles isn't a problem because command and strike lances are augmented so that that numbers add up the same anyway-

"But the former 6th Recon had their entire scout lance made up of upgraded Galleons, so when they joined in the fight that was a full four lances versus three."

Light tanks were easy prey for Battlemechs, but were often the hard counter for infantry.

Beth Duncan clapped her palms and raised her hand.

"Yes, Lt. Duncan?"

"Sixth Recon all have four-lance square companies, but technically also do have the same number of combat units as we do. Sixteen in a company, instead of the standard twelve in three lances. They just split their units into four while we concentrated them into two and make the third recon lance be entirely scout vehicles. If we do the same thing as them… we lose the benefit of recon lances being small and hard to spot in exchange for more direct fire. It's tempting to throw extra forces into battle, but if we lose recon then what's the point?"

"Good point!" replied Cpt. Werent. "And that is why Sixth Recon or 1st Cav shared the specs of the new Galleon Light Tank with us. Eridani High Command fully intends on standardizing the entire RCT's line of Light Support Tanks into these specific Light Horse Galleons.GAL-3000."

"Even Scorpions and Vedettes, sir?" said Saludo.

"Vedettes are Medium Tanks," Beth chuffed. "But Scorpions are just 25 tons that goes barely 65 kph anyway, so a 30-ton tank with more armor that goes up to 97 kph is an improvement. Because an AC/5 has the same range as a PPC, I know we get a lot of aggressive Scorpion commanders that try to contribute from long range. Recon is supposed to stay out of the fight."

Saludo kept his right hand raised and flicked his palm down to point towards her "Do you think the problem with tank on tank shock was that you were only backed up by two Galleons while their single Von Luckner already had two Manticores and *five* Galleons behind them?"

Beth grimaced. A Von Lucker with an AC/20 vs another Von Luckner with a Gauss Rifle and a PPC was no contest, which was why the mock battle simulated equal firepower as if her tank had already been upgraded. So the result returned to the basic Star League doctrine of 'never fight an equal battle' and 'outnumber the heck out of the enemy whenever you can'.

Saludo, as leader of the Scout Lance and piloted a Locust, lowered his hand and continued "I brought my light mech into the reach of four Galleons each with two Small Pulse Lasers and a pair of ER Medium Lasers in the turret and I got the shite kicked out of me. I don't think anyone else would have a good time. If those updated Galleons still have troop capacity for Jump Infantry like my eight-wheeler Packrats, I have no objections to this change."

Beth blinked. "Galleons are slower, are you sure?"

Saludo shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair, normally cut short for sake of a bulky Succession Wars neurohelmet but now starting to grow out into curly fistfuls again. "It's not faster than a Locust on a straight line, true enough, but I think having a pair of ER Medium Lasers pointing backwards on the turret is a bigger incentive for no bugmech to chase too closely."

The projection changed to the tech readouts.

The new Galleon had two versions. They were still 30 tons but with Ferro-Fibrous armor beefed up armor protection from mere 4 tons to 6 and a half tons. The two small vertical turrets poking out on the tank's 'chin' were changed from a pair of Small Lasers to Machine Guns for infantry support and the turret changed to ER Medium Lasers. With almost 80% of the range of a Large Laser, Beth sighed at predicting this would hardly discourage the already hyper-aggressive tendencies of Galleon tankers in the Light Horse.

Scouts vehicle commanders were chosen for their patience and willingness to serve silently and without glory, knowing that helping the rest of the regiment win was as important as any personal kill tallies.

She hoped this would just allow them to protect themselves well once Scout Mechs catch up… instead of giving freedom to any battle-lust they had long tried to keep suppressed.

The other one, a more line combat version, had an ER Large Laser as main gun. With a little more range than a standard PPC, Galleons could now serve in direct fire support role even in mech vs mech combat. It had been many centuries since a single Large Laser was notable as main gun on a main battle tank, but when escorting a Von Luckner now they all had the same range profile, the whole lance striking down enemies as they approached.

Captain Werent continued "Eridani High Command insists. Apart from small Scout Cars we can pack as cargo, the Brigade is standardizing on the Galleon as its Universal Light Tank. All Scout Lances will have to retrain."

"This is not a problem, sir!" said Saludo. "Survivability is more important."

"Right then. Onto the next issue. As had already been noted - the Sixth Recon Battalion "Stimson's Stealthers" has been pulled out of the 121st to serve as core of the 91st Cavalry Regiment. That leaves us in the 121st with only two Battalions - the "Bloody Half-Hundred" of the 50th Heavy Cavalry Battalion and us of the "Cyclones" Eight Recon Battalion. The 121st is a Regiment rarely deployed as a whole because it has traditionally been the role of the 50th Heavy Cav and the 8th Recon to protect the Light Horse's dependents ever since Kuritan treachery on Sendai.

"This is also partly the reason why we have augmented lances. Three combat lances and a non-combat or infantry recon. The Sixth Recon moves square companies of four lances for a total of sixteen possible combat units. The question now is if we adopt the square company or roll with augmented lances of six units with three per company for a total of eighteen combat units per company."

Lt. Ryan Hixen of the Strike Lance, and Beth Duncan's superior as the lance her tank group was attached to snapped his head up. "Wait, we can do that?!"

The Captain responded, "We are trying to figure out new doctrine here. The square company works very well for the Stealthers - now the 91st 1st Strike Cav - , but they also want to standardize on using Urbanmechs to accomplish most combat vehicle roles. Jump Jets and being air-droppable, they say. The 91st Cavalry is going to be less of a tank-carrying combined arms regiment, focusing more on missile artillery and VTOLs.

"So we are told that if the 121st is willing to be a heavy shock regiment, then their heavy tank lances are willing to stay in the Dark Horse."

Beth crossed her arms. As well they should. The 121st was the best combat arm of the Eridani Light Horse. Then she frowned. She raised her hand to speak up again "Since it's only us and the 50th Heavy Cav left, we're going to need to reconstitute the Third Battalion. But since we can't leave our dependents undefended, historically we have only been able to alternately deploy the 50th Heavy Cav and the 8th Recon offworld. As had been noted the 121st mainly fights with only two reinforced Battalions as is.

"If we have two three-lance companies of six-unit lances plus a command lance… that's sixty units per battalion and one hundred twenty on deployment. Plus Regimental Battle Group Company and artillery. That's a regular Regiment, isn't it?"

"Yes, continue. "What is your point, Lieutenant?"

"Sir. The 91st with their square companies forming square battalions, last I heard they are still only staffed two battalions to a regiment - right now ninety-six units to the regiment, before Command and Artillery. But the 'Bloody Half Hundred' also runs a square battalion, hence the fifty or so units in it compared to a square battalion's forty-eight. Add us, counting only combat units, that's eighty-six.

"So my question, sir, is why do we have augmented lances in *two* battalions instead of regular lances and just make the whole 121st a four-battalion regiment like the rest? Since we can only ever deploy two or three at a time anyway?"

Captain Werent smiled. "Apart from the manpower issue?"

Beth grimaced. "Sir. I retract the questio-"

"Because reading that the Eridani Light Horse dropped with two battalions to repulse an invasion is different from being told that the Eridani Light Horse dropped their whole regiment to attack your world. Our professionalism, care for civilians, and willingness to accept surrender means that the Eridani Light Horse has actually won more battles in our history by not fighting than fighting.

"There are those that say 'winning is everything, no matter what the cost', but actually it is also true that 'reputation means something'. The ideals of the Star League still lives within us, and that is why we fight. Where we walk… people have hope and our enemies question themselves."

Beth stared back dully. That was just playing with definitions for public relations what the hell. Since when did the ELH play mind games?

Her face scrunched up in thought. She supposed that, in order to look overwhelming even to five different Houses all at once, the Terran Hegemony had always been playing mind games and the SLDF just had to follow suit.

-.
-.

SLS BY LIGHT FANTASTIC
Scout III-class WarShip
March 3025

Normally it would take most of a month to reach Tripoli from Colchester. Most of that was the 20-day transit time at 1 gs from the planet to the jump point. The DropShips carrying the 91st Regiment - or rather, half a regiment plus the 121st's 9th Battalion, burned towards the transit point at 2 gs.

Double the speed at the hardship of feeling twice as heavy for those inside. The human body was not meant to bear such a burden for long. Ten days of it was enough to make Beth Duncan feel like she had been running marathons all day even with everyone only doing minimal movements and spending most of the time lying down in bed so their hearts would need to work as hard just pumping blood.

The abrupt shock going from double standard Terran gravity to zero-gravity as the Overlord-class DropShip maneuvered to link up with the JumpShip made her feel as if thick viscous blood was pooling behind her nose and her veins would start leaking. Her every muscle ached with a dull fire.

With wobbly feet Beth passed through the airlock to join the rest of the regiment into the more stable gravity quarters within the 90-meter grav deck of the Scout II. A normal Scout didn't have any and was forced to burn fuel just to achieve .2 g through thrust. Everything was clean and gleaming new.

She was greeted by the white Cameron Star with the ELH prancing pony superimposed upon it, painted on the bulkhead leading into the grav-deck. She hesitantly reached out to touch the symbol reverently, and on further examination…

That was not paint. That was a tinted alloy engraving baked right into the metal. The white metal was rhodium; and the yellow-orange, brass. The horse silhouette was black steel.

"Oh no," she whimpered. "We might actually be the SLDF."

-.
-.

----------------------------

 

[bluepencil]

Hmm. It may look a bit too sensible, you know?

Still, the bare top does make it feel more crab-like.

Click to shrink...

I kind of like how industrial it looks. Give it a weighted backpack and you have a really goad "loadermech" type.

Click to shrink...

[edit]
A minor variation on the loadermech concept.

Less capable of melee though. Now those arms could do forestry work.

 

[bluepencil]

Doctrine 02

---

Tripoli
Benjamin Prefecture
Draconis Combine
April 02, 3025

From Colchester to Tripoli was normally 5 jumps and two months. But the first jump was a dead system named Courney. The Scouts jumped immediately afterwards to appear at Bettendorf. The scouts had to wait there for 7 ½ days to charge the KF drives while surreptitiously charging the Fusion Battery from the reactor by using up gross amounts of fuel, equivalent to a dozen burn-days of operation.

But this was a WarShip that looked like a JumpShip and it had a thousand tons of fuel.

The next closest system towards Tripoli was another dead system, Ballentine. The ships jumped again, and that brought them to Royal, one jump away from Tripoli. They were joined there by another pair of Scouts, bringing Allwine Battalion and Badnik Company from New Aberdeen, which was but two jumps away.

The 91st Strike Cav and elements of the 121st Dark Horse were in force at full regiment weight. They set out from Colchester at the end of February and arrived in mid-March.

Although it would be simple enough to shuttle from Scout to Scout on dedicated Small Craft transports, Beth Duncan didn't get to meet Barbara Mosley. The Eridani Light Horse spent this last week on more meetings and briefings and simulations and planning for the worst case scenarios.

The DCMS was still preparing to take their revenge and move the multiple regiments necessary to assault a fortified world. According to standard SLDF doctrine, the element of surprise effectively doubles your force.

The Scouts appeared suddenly in-system, right between the planet of Tripoli and its star. As the DropShips undocked and burned towards the world with jaw-jarring force, Beth Duncan turned to her crew and said "If we're actually the SLDF now, then this has to be a perfect run. We can't screw this up. We are being watched if we're worthy of the name. We won't shame the flag!"

"Total obliteration," whispered back Jocelyn Xiang.

Paris Fendana whistled and softly sang "From the halls of Mon-te-zuuuma…"

Diogenes added "To the shores of Tri-po-liii~"

The skies opened and hell rained down.

-.
-.


Base Ecclesiasticus
Tripoli
Same time

The Eridani Light Horse timed themselves to arrive before midnight over the DCMS base on Tripoli. General Innocent IV woke up to the buzzing of the doorbell to his private quarters.

"Whu-?" The square-faced man with a pointed mustache and a goatee sat up suddenly. He winced in pain at the rush of blood. He reached out to the remote right beside the handgun on the nightstand, and unlocked the door. Paranoia about assassination was a virtue in the DCMS. "Enter."

After a couple of courtesy knocks, the door hissed open. Masashi Oh, the regimental aide-de-camp, entered and bowed deeply. "My deepest apologies, Tai-sho! But there are vessels that appeared in the Pirate Point and DropShips are of this moment burning towards us. We are under attack!"

Innocent IV's moment of alarm quickly resolved itself into grim anticipation. "How foolish." The Davions already tried recapturing Tripoli back in 3021 with the 17th Avalon Hussars and were beaten back. The 11th Benjamin Regulars were in full force in Tripoli, and two more regiments from the Amphigean Light Assault Group were two jumps away.

The world was ready to repulse another invasion.

He dressed himself and headed out. "How is the mobilization proceeding?"

"O'Connor's squadron has already been mobilized and ready to meet them in orbit. Conventional fighter airbases have already been alerted."

House Kurita prided itself not just on its MechWarrior's surpassing ability but also the skill and number of their pilots. Kurita air power was not only typically dense but used liberally.

"Excelente. Who are these fools that dare attack us at our own home ground?" he asked while continuing to briskly walk down a set of stairs and through tunnels heading to the command center. As the base was located in a desert, building underground was not only more secure but more comfortable. "Davions? How many ships? How much time do we have?"

"Begging your forgiveness my lord, so far things are unclear. The command center would know more, I rushed to inform you and assure your safety." The aide-de-camp was somewhere between a bodyguard and a secretary for the regimental commander. While it was not usually known for the Davions to use assassins to decapitate a defense, Kurita always expected their enemies to do what they would do themselves.

After a short walk, they reached the underground command center. "Report!"

"Yes, my lord! The enemy appeared at the L1 planet-star Pirate Point. They come with six ships, and twelve dropships. Ten dropships are right now are on the approach."

Innocent IV nodded. Whoever these invaders were, they had more bravery than sense. Even setting aside the risk of a misjump and ripping the ship and everything connected to it into their component atoms, by trying to jump into a Pirate Point you had best be completely confident you will win. Otherwise you were just giving your enemy free JumpShips.

"How soon before they arrive?"

"They're burning at 2 gees, lord general. Depending on how soon they break to decelerate, anywhere between three to four hours."

"Tch." This was the problem with Tripoli. It was a small planet orbiting a small star, only about half an AU away from its star and only had .76 Terran standard gravity. The lower gravity made life somewhat easier on the world, and made people believe they lived longer with less stress. They lacked discipline to endure hardship. In practice, this also meant that the distance between the L1 pirate point and the world was half as much as a main sequence star.

"This does not give as much time to prepare as the usual five days from the Jump Point, but it is enough. A surprise, but not exactly an unwelcome one." He had time to think. Where would the enemy attempt to land? What were the major objectives? It was not enough time for full mobilization. They had to work with what they had available. Anything that was more than four hours away at their best speed would be out of position and thus useless for defense.

Defending the capital city of Louca Town made sense, but Tripoli was primarily an agricultural world. Other than the capital, which was a fetid hive of degeneracy, and various other farming settlements, the only other site of import was this base.

He grinned fiercely. "Keep monitoring. I shall pray for our success - not because I have no confidence in it, but that it may be a glorious victory!"

-.
-.

The Draconis Combine was primarily a culture steeped in Shito and Confucian and Taoist themes, and only grudgingly accommodated Christianity and Islam due to the presence of Rasalhague and Azami territories within the Combine. As long as they served House Kurita well, they would be left mostly alone. Catholicism had long been considered a hated Davion characteristic.

So why then would someone who renamed himself Innocent IV, like a Pope, end up a regimental commander?

That was because prior to this, his name was Manuel Benedicto de Seville, and he was from Cadiz, a world close to the District capital of Benjamin. The people of Cadiz were so deliberately obnoxiously Spaniard that even House Kurita, which was deliberately obnoxiously Japanese, saw no point in trying to crush their culture. Cadiz produced a lot of bullish glory hounds for the military who, unlike most troops that needed to have the fear of death brutalized out of them, stood ready with machismo looking for a legendary fight.

Seville was excessively religious, but he was also an excellent taskmaster that would not make his men do anything he would not willingly do himself.

The DCMS considered his crusading in the name of House Kurita an acceptable expression of loyalty.

-.
-.

The time before an invasion force arrives was always spent in nervous uncertainty. Defenders could only hope they made the right disposition of forces. Four hours was not enough time to muster defenders usually spread out around the world. These invaders made a mistake in coming to Tripoli, where the regiment was concentrated into one landmass.

They could try to land and raid elsewhere, Innocent IV supposed, but it would be a waste to spend all that much time just to pick up bushels of corn.

His meditations were interrupted at around 2 AM by the drumming of explosions. Innocent IV entered the command center to see the frenzy of open battle.

The operators reported "My lord! Enemy dropships are landing due north and due south of our position. O'Connor's squadron was not able to stop their insertion. Planetary conventional fighters have all been wiped out. Anti-air guns are doing their part, but cannot completely stop high-altitude bomb drops. External hangars are damaged, but most of our mech forces are intact. They are coming here!"

"Who are they?"

"Eridani Light Horse."

The screen showed tracer fire stitching a line into the night sky, while the base erupted into stalks of flame. Mechs and tanks in hangars exposed above ground hurried to leave and find something to shoot out in the open desert.

Sending out Swift's Battalion to the city borders put them about two hours away from contact, but still near enough to pincer the enemy.

Innocent IV beamed. The 11th Benjamin Regulars were themselves the objective! "Good. Good! This is perfect! Prepare my mech, this is the fight I was training you for! Decisive Light Regiment battle! Go forth, in the name of God and House Kurita!"

-.
-.


East of Base Ecclesiasticus
Tripoli
Some time later

The cloudless desert night lit up across the horizon with multicolored glows. The sky blossomed with bright bursts almost like fireworks, and pillars of light swayed from side to side. Roy Barlow turned his binoculars to the right. Blue flashes that rippled across the dunes. Now and then punctuated by a blooming amber explosion.

PPC fire, Barlow mused. The night vision mode was turned off. He didn't need to see enemy mechs skirmishing at the distance. The blue streaks heading from left towards the center of his view were more sporadic than the enemy. House Kurita liked to use PPCs and it was predicted Panthers and Katapult K2s were in good number among the 11th Benjamin Regulars. Unfortunately for them, Gauss Rifle fire traveled so fast without a tracer that they were effectively invisible.

He listened into encrypted ELH comms, the electronics of his headset active only as long as it detected his particular brainwaves.

> Enemy contact at Nav Beta. Lance of two Dragons, one Jenner, one Commando.
> Strike Lance engaging.

> This is Badnik Company Lead. Nav Gamma cleared.
> Armor loss minimal. Moving to Nav Delta.

> Katapult down.
> G1 Lead to all Galleons, form on me.
> Push forward. Galleons concentrate fire on that Dragon.
> Looks like it wants to play Stomp on the Tankie.

Over to the right on the opposite side of the canyon, green lines criss-crossed. Kicked-up fine desert dust illuminated normally invisible laser beams. LRMs here and there made lingering streaks like someone wiping paint across glass.

He heard a crinkling noise from beside him. He turned to see Alfred Kirk wiggle an open MRE box at him.

"Popcorn?"

"Where did you get that?" Roy Barlow asked, aghast. "Did you put oil in the boiling vessel again?"

"One time! I did that one time!"

Barlow sniffed. "My tastebuds will never taste tea the same way again."

"Oh screw you, you boiled leaf elitist. The new Galleons have microwave and induction-based cookers. I just made sure to nuke up some blocks before we left."

"Wait, that was all the extra satchets you were carrying? I thought you were packing extra plastic explosives!"

"We're not jump infantry this run. Do *you* want to slap some battlemechs in the face?"

Barlow grimaced. The two Eridani Light Horse troopers were sitting in a small foxhole draped over with thermal-camo cloth. While infantry in mech combat were rarely targeted as a priority, fighting around the feet of warborn giants was terrifying and chaotic in equal measure. Jump Infantry were highly trained specialists, and for all their reckless bravery, were valuable enough not to waste on anti-mech swarm combat unless absolutely necessary.

Roy Barlow and Alfred Kirk were part of 9th Recon Company, Recon Lance. They were the third lance to the company that included Beth Duncan's Von Luckner. It was the group of Packrats and Darter Scout Vehicles normally led by Lt. Saludo in his Locust, which rarely contributed to a direct fight. Now the Recon Lance all upgraded to Galleon 3000s, and Lt. Saludo now in a much less fragile customized Super Urbanmech, were raising hell elsewhere.

The pair had been dumped to monitor the top of a canyon while the rest of the infantry component of the Recon Lance went ahead to secure enemy guard posts.

For a change he switched intercept to Kurita radio channels.

> Urbanmechs? Urbanmechs?!
> Who would dare fight us with Urbanmechs?

> My lord, the rumors of the Eridani Light Horse choosing to run these mechs as an insult might be true.
> They are also said to carry lostech.

> Then we shall have them.
> Lance, forward at full speed!

"Some idiots are happily running into Pulse Laser range." Barlow took the bag of popcorn and munched vehemently.

The general in charge of the 11th Benjamin Regulars moved the base from near the capital towards the middle of the desert, to separate them from all the 'immoral filth' and 'whores of the city' and snap the regiment into shape as a potent light mech regiment.

Light mechs were best with 'pursuit tactics'. A heavy lance supported by two light lances could finish off the enemy quickly through saturation of targets. The 11th Benjamin was even a combined-arms force, with a significant amount of tanks lances in their command battlegroup with mechs prowling from the sides. The 11th Benjamin Regulars were at their peak at this point in time, ready to match their prowess against all comers.

It was just unfortunate the the Eridani Light Horse, *the* actual peak of Light Mech Regiment operations in the Inner Sphere, had decided to come calling; appearing from the pirate point and dropping with the express purpose of destroying the 11th Benjamin Regulars.

The 11th Benjamin Regulars put themselves into a target-rich environment where the ELH had no chance of causing unwanted civilian collateral damage.

The sensors bleeped.

Barlow flicked his attention towards the Portable Remote Sensors pack. The canyon below led straight towards the nearby city. Kurita and ELH forces were engaged in pitched battle above the canyon, too consumed with each other to pay attention to anyone fleeing below.

Small 16-kg passive seismic sensors were air-dropped into the canyon in passing by ELH aircraft.

20 kilometers away, Barlow and Kirk tried to make sense of the readings and then switched to IR cameras pointing down into the gap.

"Looks like they're trying to move out and preserve the artillery," said Barlow. "Makes sense. In this canyon anything in front of them, they can just hit with direct-fire. Kurita is making sure that those on top are distracted by mech combat. If they can get away from the base it would be harder to remove them where civilians get to stand as human shields. Or if they can get far enough from base, they can start hitting us when we think we have already won."

Kirk spat. "They know how much we value our reputation keeping to the Ares Conventions." Then flicked on his own comm gear. "That is, *if* artillery makes it there in the first place."

Kirk spoke through the radio "This is Fisheye Two. Gale Support, you are go for artillery fire mission on preset coordinates Nine Tango Zero. Repeat, you are go for fire mission."

Less than thirty seconds later, their canopy fluttered from the passing of Arrow IV artillery missiles. Cluster warheads were total murder inside the confines of a canyon.

The depths crackled with light and fire. And screaming.

Barlow took out one popped kernel and stared down at it through the green tint of his NV goggles. It was total darkness inside the little foxhole again as the control panels dimmed.

"Company-level artillery. Mech-based tube and missile artillery in such numbers we don't even care about wasting them. Arriving with brand-new JumpShips into Pirate Points to leave the enemy almost zero time to react. Bombarding barracks and hangars from low orbit then dropping tank companies from dedicated transports. The Eridani Light Horse is now a regiment-killing task force. This makes it, what - the third regiment we beat in three months?"

He popped the kernel into his mouth and chewed. He could not believe it was not real butter. "This luxury of our new equipment is almost sickening. War isn't supposed to be fun."

> Enemy armor spotted. Tank on tank action imminent.
> Looks like Demolishers.

> Good hunting, Luckies.

"It should however be as easy as much as we can make it," responded Kirk. "Kurita isn't stupid. They're loathsome, but not stupid. We should do the most with what we have while we still can. But some things… well, they're going to keep." He took out another MRE satchet. "Apple juice?"

As Barlow's pensive silence, Kirk added "I also have guyabano, if that's more to your taste."

"What the hell is guyabano?"

-.
-.

South of Base Ecclesiasticus
Tripoli
Some time later

Beth Duncan was now in command of a Strike Lance consisting of her Von Luckner, a Manticore, and two Galleon-IIs. They were now, ironically, the hammer instead of the anvil; pressing forward with all the indomitability of an Assault mech lance. The anvils were now Urbanmech.

Beth looked through her command sights and called out "Panther, bearing 337." Or North-North-West. "All weapons."

"Aye, Panther is locked," responded Paris. SLDF combat vehicle neurohelmets allowed them to achieve weapons lock with just looking in the enemy's direction. Instead of relying on machine recognition, the sensors read the gunner's intent - this is the thing I want to die.

The Multi-Missile-Launcher spat out a stream of LRMs at the enemy mech. Shrack. Shrack. A pair of blue PPC bolts streaked from Von Luckner and the Manticore, with the Panther's own PPC fire crossing the distance at the same time.

Beth felt the enemy's return fire with its PPCs and AC/5s scraping out her tank's armor like little stings across her skin.

Much to everyone's continued displeasure, the DCMS produced a lot of excellent pilots that treated their machines like an extension of themselves. The enemy Panther twisted its body immediately firing to minimize its profile and jinked aside to dodge enemy retaliation. It moved with a fluidity that was almost organic.

Unfortunately for it, it dodged right into the path of a Gauss Rifle slug, fired a moment later to take into consideration its movement.

A PPC was capable of vaporizing half a ton of armor in a single shot. That was what made the Panther, slow for a Light Mech, so disproportionately dangerous for its size.

The Gauss Rifle's firing sound was a deceptively soft *PHRANG*, and a much smoother kick unlike the previous AC/20 main gun. Weapons lock was re-achieved in a fraction of a time.

The Gauss Rifle slug, a 125-kg watermelon shape arriving at hypersonic velocity, slammed into its side, punching through all intact armor there and crushing its soft foamed metal internal structure- sending the Panther spinning all the way around and crashing on its face. 'None of that warrior dignity for you', Beth mused.

The LRMs from the Von Luckner and the Manticore dropped onto the downed mech. Small explosion rippled upon the Kuritan mech, which suddenly erupted into a much larger one as one of the missiles must have gone into the unprotected SRM ammunition. The night and their night vision gear was overpowered for a second by the glare of ammo-cookoff.

"Demolishers about to enter into range," her radio reported from one of the Galleons.

A pair of AC/20s in a turret could kill even an Assault Mech in a single salvo. They had the armor to match. They were 80-ton juggernauts that feared nothing. There was even a full lance of them out there, moving forward with monstrous menace. The Demolisher was one of the most feared tanks in the Inner Sphere for good reason.

If you were in range. AC/20s had the effective range of a Medium Laser.

"There's a word for people who use Demolishers on attack instead of anchoring a battle line," said Beth.

"Bait?" replied Diogenes.

"Shmucks." Demolishers were assault vehicles, and therefore slow, maxing out at just over 54kph at flank speed. They were heading out as a wall trying to force the Light Horse to reverse their assault while the other Light mechs and combat vehicles, mainly Vedettes and lances of SRM-carrying hovercraft, swooped in from the sides. This was the classic three-wave attack of the DCMS - flank and isolate enemy groups and force them to either retreat or be destroyed.

But the enemy was trying this on a flat open desert that was just ideal for fast movers.

Beth ordered "G2 Lead to Strike Lance, move on echelon, bearing 67." East-North-East. The tank lance moved in a steep diagonal line towards the right. "Concentrate fire on the closest Demolisher, then move on to enemy light armor."

Their PPCs had already cycled, and once more the Lucky Miss spat out death - one hot blue line, and almost invisibly right behind it the sudden shock of a Gauss slug. The leftmost Demolisher recoiled from the hit. The Manticore was like a smaller version of her Von Luckner, with its main guns being a PPC and an AC/5.

The Galleons were not yet in range to fire with their ER Medium Lasers, and their gunners wer starting to grouse that they should have LRMs or something.

Demolishers were tough, able to take the hit of their own pairs of heavy guns. From the front. From the side? Not so much. Their combined fire was enough to punch through the assault tank's left side armor. The Demolisher brewed up instantly. That much unprotected AC/20 ammo packed into it like a can of sardines was a death sentence.

The rest of the Demolisher lance reeled from how a pair of heavy tanks were killing things in a single salvo.

The enemy waiting on the wings swooped down to try to take down her pair of heavy tanks.

Beth Duncan was the hammer.

Behind her were two whole lances of Super Urbanmechs carrying ER PPCs. They brought the storm. Demolishers could not dodge worth a damn. And the Vedettes in front of her were just crunchy little bits of metal.

Her main guns punched straight through their front glacis. The Galleons could finally rush forward and wreak merry havoc.

Super Urbanmechs swarmed. PPCs and Pulse Laser fire cut down anything that was not directly in front of her.

Soon enough Beth Duncan and the Lucky Miss rolled past nothing but burning wrecks with the way to the enemy base open. She reported to the command channel "G2 Strike, cleared Nav Delta. Looks like enemy Assault lance ahead, bearing 22, distance 3 clicks. Set as Nav Epsilon."

"Setting coordinates as Nav Epsilon," Diogenes responded.

Beth checked her tank's status. They were half down on Gauss Rifle ammo and almost out of long range missiles. But armor was still green across the board. The Lucky Miss had 12.5 tons of Ferro-Fibrous armor, enough to withstand two AC/20 hits on all facings. Those poor Demolishers only had ten. Still, even with mostly fresh armor, this could get dicey.

Well she did still have a neighborhood of Urbanmechs behind her. "G2 Strike Lance moving on to attack."

-.

"ERIDANI LIGHT HORSE! THE ANGELS ARE WITH ME! MURDERERS MIRED IN SIN, MERCENARIES SELLING YOUR SOUL FOR SILVER! TODAY YOUR LEGEND ENDS! I AM-"

"Mute that," said Beth Duncan.

"Enemy channel muted," Diogenes Eckhard responded.

Paris Fernanda took aim at the 85-ton enemy Stalker battlemech and fired.

-.
-.

The 11th Benjamin Regulars was a regular three battalion regiment with a reinforced regimental battlegroup with extra vehicle lances. They had approximately 140 ground combat units.

The Eridani Light Horse dropped with three Square Battalions plus two independent companies - Barbara Mosley's Badniks and a whole company of artillery. If surprise effectively doubled a force, then they were rolling with the equivalent of 380 combat units.

Before the sun was up, there returned silence upon the dunes.

-.
-.

Benjamin
Benjamin Military District
Draconis Combine
April 3025


Warlord Ukita Syovo Yoriyoshi was shaken by the news, but closing his eyes was all the emotion he could display.

He took a deep breath and whispered "The king was shaken. He went up to the room over the gateway and wept. As he went, he said: O my son Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you—O Absalom, my son, my son!"

"... My lord?" his aide asked with a nervous quiver. He was only reporting the message sent urgently through the HPG. He would probably not be called to commit seppuku over this failure.

But someone had to pay for this. The Benjamin Military District had long been considered a place that got all of the work but little of the attention. It was Warlord Yoriyoshi's personal attention that brought back funding and equipment to the combat theater. As someone that prized initiative over orders, innovation over brute tactics, he had been personally courted by Takashi Kurita to support his military reforms.

In a similar way, he had personally courted then Brigadier General Seville to rebuild the 11th Benjamin into a new more potent light mech regiment built for long-range reconnaissance, skirmishing, hit and run drops, ambushes, screening larger force, and end-run maneuvers. He had even allowed the man to marry Yoriyoshi's former mistress.

A staunch puritan, General Seville renamed himself to Innocent IV and took over the 11th Benjamin Regulars. He moved the main base of the regiment to the middle of the planet's petrified desert to remove them from the "whores of the city".

And now because of that, the whole 11th Benjamin Regulars could be surrounded and destroyed within six hours.

And for now, through the white-hot rage and fear that he would have to explain this loss to the Coordinator - both of them losing face from this - he could only think:

'Poor Izumi. I had treated Seville like my own son. Now he is dead. And now she will also have to kill herself rather than to live in shame, and to be able to perhaps comfort her husband in the afterlife'.

He opened his eyes and waved "Yes. You were saying… they did not even bother to collect salvage?"

"Yes, my lord. The whole campaign happened within six hours, and we estimate that only half that time was in battle. The remaining hours were spent thermite-bombing the fallen mechs and equipment to make them mostly irrecoverable. The Eridani Light Horse focused on burning out combat recorders, but we have managed to piece together this report from offsite sensors and some black boxes and battle roms that managed to survive."

Warlord Yoriyoshi laced his fingers and scowled. Even as a man that commanded the entire force of the Benjamin Military District, a Warlord whose authority was second only to the Coordinator himself, Yoriyoshi grimaced at the sheer waste.

He personally commanded the 17th Benjamin Regulars, and his beloved regiment was fat with money and equipment, given the best and newest that the government could ever provide. What could not be supplied from Luthien, he personally authorized the acquisition from the black markets. A hefty Heavy Assault-rated regiment with substantial artillery and fightercraft support, Yoriyoshi had personally led his troops into many skirmishes and raids against Davion and Steiner to test the latest technological advancements. While mechwarriors took to the field, scientists and technicians crammed into the mobile headquarters at the regimental battlegroup to monitor some new medium laser or new type of armor.

The Combine, despite is economic policy of controlled scarcity, devoted much to the sciences and were a competent, highly efficient force. Always the Combine in its culture of ever-war sought more refinement and efficiency. With their deep spy penetration into other Houses, the DCMS were never too far behind any advancement.

It was always the people that failed the Combine, not its machines.

Yoriyoshi turned to the screen and considered again the events on Tripoli.

1. Six JumpShips, each with two drop-collars, possibly Merchants instead of the more common three-collar Invaders, appeared in the 'Pirate Point' of stable cancelled-gravity between the world and its sun. Normally Tripoli was five days away from the normal jump points above or below the star. Instead they had mere hours to decide whether to concentrate or distribute their forces.
2. The 11th Benjamin had a squadron of aerospace fighters, O'Conner's Squadron with a mix of 12 heavy and light fighters, plus the planetary militia's airbreathers. The Eridani Light Horse disgorged a full wing of 36 fighters in three squadrons.
3. Half of these tangled with the defenders, while the other half escorted the dropships to landing and made bombing attacks over the 11th Benjamin's base.
4. While the base was in disarray, the ELH landed on two locations flanked east and west of the base and set out in simultaneous assault.
5. It was difficult to piece together the results of combat, but behind all the screaming and explosions, three things remained consistent: Rocket artillery. Small and fast laser tanks. And Urbanmech.
6. Targeted bunker-busters and fuel-air bombs completely leveled the base before the ELH decided to leave.
7. The Eridani Light Horse thereafter refused to do anymore on the planet, but scoured the orbitals clean and occasionally pumped mysteriously garbled broadcasts down onto the cities and towns of the planet.
8. After five days, the six JumpShips jumped out again.

One surviving BattleROM showed a Locust quickly being taken down by a swarm of Galleon light tanks. Those appeared to be a pair of Medium Lasers in the turret.

Another had a glitchy video of fast-moving Urbanmechs firing PPCs and pulsing lasers.

Another showed a video of the ELH engineers slagging mech cockpits, after first making sure that the occupants were not feigning death or false surrender. Survivors were put into a prefab camp and just left alone there with enough supplies until they could be picked up by the planet's remaining defenders.

A short recording of a passing Von Luckner tank with two cannons on its turret. A longer one and a shorter but fatter one.

Cameras carried by infantry survived better than recorders in combat chassis. This insistence of recording all combat performance inherited from Yoriyoshi's own performance documentary habits over the 17th Benjamin Regulars turned out to be this debacle's saving grace.

As a technological aficionado, there was much to unpack here. The Eridani Light Horse's Galleon Light Tanks could in theory carry a pair of Medium Lasers in its turret if they went so far as to rebuild the whole engine and transmission for a smaller and slower internal combustion engine.

That tank. Was that a PPC and an Autocannon on a 75-ton tank? Fascinating. Arguably possible as well, if you trade an AC/20 for an AC/10 and a PPC.

Those Urbanmechs. Why so many Urbanmechs? And why are they so faaaast?!

Warlord Yoriyoshi clenched his fists. If it wasn't for the fact that this involved the complete destruction of a regiment, this was a wealth of information!

'Ah, Seville. Ah, Innocent Four! My son, my son.' Yoriyoshi had no direct progeny. His whole line would die with him. He put so much of himself into the regiment and evolving doctrine because it would be the only legacy he could give. These contributions would outlast him. Everything for the Draconis Combine.

He reached over and pushed a button.

The screen shifted into the familiar tan prancing pony symbol.

The Eridani Light Horse.

Looking at the summary of events, he could not help but to feel…

"Perfection," he whispered with a clack of his tongue.

His aide waited in perfect silence. Either he would explain, or he would not. He knew that sometimes great men needed someone there just to listen in order to work out the thoughts in their head. Of course, all such things were to remain in confidence and they were not to offer their own opinion unless asked for. Trying to do anything but a sounding board was to insultingly present themselves as an equal to their commanding officer.

"It is like the Eridani Light Horse wanted to show us what perfection in Light Mech tactics is like. Were they so threatened by my efforts of reforming the clunky regiments that they had to make this display? Imitate the enemy to our shame? No, that would be foolish. The best ideas are those taken from the enemy. Turn their own weapons and methods against them."

Yoriyoshi drummed his fingers on the table's glass surface. Glass on old oak, almost the color of his own sun-tanned hands. "Why assassinate the 11th? The Eridani Light Horse have already removed the 2nd Galedon, the E-regiment of Wolf Dragoon's, and now… the 11th. Why?"

Black Widow Company had been captured by the Light Horse, haven't they? Didn't the Wolf's Dragoons fight the 21st Centauri Lancers on Marduk just a short while ago?

He blinked.

"The 11th is the dagger pointed at the neck of Galtor and Marduk. It had to be removed."

The 'Galtor Thumb' region had always been an irritant to both House Kurita and House Davion, as Galtor stood in the way of Davion's Norse MechWorks on Marduk. Galtor III was also a wealthy and well-populated world with Galtor Naval Yards being the primary producer of Neptune Submarines for the AFFS. House Davion used underwater command posts extensively to protect and coordinate planetary defense that was immune to the initial barrage of invasion.

The 11th Benjamin was responsible for the defense of not just Tripoli but the nearby world of Paris. With those two border worlds removed, the only other two planets that could make the jump to Marduk would be from New Mendham or Donenac, at the very edge of the 30LY jump limit. Threatening Marduk, which is more valuable due to its BattleMech factories, meant inability to reinforce Galtor. The entire Irurzun Prefecture only had 5 regiments to work with, and of these two were permanently based in Irurzun and two more in Reisling's Planet. Both had Galtor in their reach, but not Marduk.

The rest of the worlds in Combine space were only lightly garrisoned or defended by mercenaries of company strength.

The Eridani Light Horse had already proven they can destroy a regiment and be gone within five days, sooner than reinforcements can arrive from a different system! They are trying to cripple staging areas against a future invasion of Galtor!

Warlord Yoriyoshi snarled and slapped his palm down on the table. He winced minutely, as the glass refused to redistribute the force and redirected it back up into his palm and bones.

His eyes glittered with enthusiasm and power again. This was a great loss, but there was now an angle he could explain to the Coordinator. The utter crushing that the Eridani Light Horse delivered even reduced the shame by a smidge. It was not the first regiment to be lost to the ponies after all. There was great dishonor here, but to win against a worthy opponent was a sweeter victory.

As a tech enthusiast, of course he knew about the rumors of an immense lostech facility recently found on Galtor III. How strange that a mercenary regiment is just running around now with so much lostech.

Galtor was the lynchpin, he was sure of it!

Then he scowled again. "But… why Urbanmechs?"

 

[bluepencil]

To the Wild Frontier

---

Comstar and ROM were in a tizzy trying to put out fires everywhere. While it was far too late to discredit or destroy the DEMETER CORE, they could still try to disrupt attempts at prototyping its open-sourced terraforming technology. Everyone from the ISF, Maskirova, LIC, ISF, ROM, etc. were trying to find out more and insert their own agents into the Eridani Light Horse.

If there was a group more confused than all of the intelligence agencies of the Inner Sphere, it would be the Eridani Light Horse 71st "White Horse" Regiment themselves. Through most of 3024, they had taken the brunt of fulfilling the Light Horse's commitments. Now they were being cycled back for rest and refit as the 21st and 91st regiments took over border security.

Fort Bradley had expanded by 50% since last year. Urbanmechs and Urbanmech-shaped things were running around the place. Civilianmechs were cutting down trees and processing lumber. Ultralight Urbanite mechs were helping like oversized infantry and workmen. All the newly refit heavy tanks had dome-shaped turrets. They had a new hippodrome for lectures and theatrical presentations.

We now have lostech out the wazoo, what?

Our lostech comes in the form of Urbanmech, what?

Barbara Mosley beat Natasha Kerensky, what?

She has an Independent Company now, what?

Natasha Kerensky is training our people now to plug the hole in our one-on-one fighting doctrine, what?

We have a 91st Regiment now, what?

We wiped out the 2nd Galedon Regulars, what?

We beat the Dragoons in space because we now have Assault Dropships, what?

We have new JumpShips, what?

We found a DEMETER CORE, what?

We released the DEMETER CORE to the public domain, what?

We wiped out the 11th Benjamin Regulars, what?

In our down cycle you're sending us out into the Davion Outback, what?

Colonel William Petersen, commander of the 71st, said "This is all vastly more complicated than how I have been informed. It appears too many decisions have been made without my being in the loop, and while I have no objection against majority rule this to me appears to violate the spirit of these rules, sir."

Armstrong nodded. "I agree. For the sake of operational security and interception of information too many things needed to be done quickly and without any prior warning. Now that you are back, it is time to get you all caught up on why the Light Horse is behaving like this."

"Yes, sir. Thank you sir. These Urbanmechs confuse me, sir."

"It is not that complicated," spoke Colonel Robert C. Fairchild, commander of the 121st Dark Horse. "They are surprisingly adaptable platforms once you start looking into their internals."

Petersen squinted, still in doubt. Fairchild was the youngest of all the regimental commanders, and was known for making bold and controversial decisions. It made sense for him to be so welcoming of this as he was also the most outspoken advocate of change in their tradition-bound RCT. However, while it was fine to disagree, Petersen refrained from saying anything that would imply he devalued the opinion of his fellow Colonel just for their age.

Petersen secretly hoped that he would eventually succeed Nathan Armstrong as Brevet General, and acted with dignity and achievement that would help others see them in that role.

"There is a better place to talk about this. Follow me."

A side room in the command center turned out to be an elevator. The three members of Eridani High Command entered, and then descended. Petersen felt momentarily weightless as the elevator moved at an unusual speed more commonly suited for high-rise buildings.

Ding.

The elevator opened to a nondescript hallway. They turned left and entered a room which had a wide conference table with holoprojectors facing towards the seats. The holographic figures stood up from their seats to attention as their superior officer entered the room.

"At ease. Been waiting long?"

"No, sir," replied Colonel Charles K. Winston. The old man sat back down on his conference chair somewhere in Harrow's Sun. "We have been looking forward to finally getting all of the regimental commands read into recent events."

"We have been talking over how things were going training with the 4th Deneb. The Marduk Militia… well, I can say they're rich in experience - no offense," spoke Colonel Edward Stimson.

"None taken," said Winston.

"But their mechs are just as aged. They're just to hold on until the Robinson Rangers or 1st Chisholm Raiders RCT can move. Marduk's swamps and jungles aren't a good fit for heavy mechs or large armies. ER PPCs are less useful here, apart from the lack of minimum range restrictions, but it's prime ambush ground anyway."

Once again, Petersen blinked. He personally did not feel that Edward Stimson would be a good fit as a regimental commander. Though he lived up to the reputations of his ancestors as a fighting line officer, he was a poor administrator and his unit often suffered from supply shortages and poor coordination. He had noted as such on the information docket he was provided, but had been outvoted in the formation of the 91st. He still had no idea why it was so urgent.

Then the destruction of the 11th Benjamins happened. He put aside any more thoughts of objection. Rarely did any regiment accomplish such total victory against another regiment, much less three complete victories in rapid succession.

Armstrong nodded towards him as he took a seat. "So you have been training the 91st in dense foliage operations? Did the Marduk Militia take the delivery?"

"Yes, sir. The militia and Norse MechWorks in particular are happy to be donated a whole battalion of Pulse Laser Urbanmechs."

That was 72 million Cb worth of equipment down the hole right there, while the entire Eridani Light Horse only cost 20 million per month to maintain. He could just hear the AFFS wondering since when did the ELH get the stones to just throw away mechs like this?

Though in a little more reflection they would see it would turn out to be a 1:1 exchange with New Avalon anyway. The best thing you can do with salvaged Urbanmechs is to exchange them for better Heavy mechs.

"Great." Then he turned towards Petersen and Fairchild on the far end of the table. He made a beckoning gesture to the former. "You look like you have questions. Go ahead."

"Yes, Sir. First, sir… I have to ask - Colonel Winston. Colonel Stimson. You… you are still at Harrow's Sun and Marduk, correct?"

"Correct," said Winston.

"Yup, right in the middle of the Tillerbee jungle," replied Stimson.

"This is a real-time holo-conference. I had an idea that this was possible… but this… this would be both extremely expensive and insecure if we go through Comstar. How is this possible?"

"We have our own secure HPG network now," Armstrong admitted.

Petersen clasped his palms together and rested his elbows on the table. His head hung in an almost praying position. He looked up and whispered "So the rumors are true, then? We are reactivated by the SLDF?"

Both Winston and Stimson winced, while Fairchild leaned back on his chair with an eager little smirk. Armstrong sighed. "Not… by the SLDF. We are reactivated as the Third Regimental Combat Team, but not under the authority of the SLDF. To understand why the Light Horse is acting this way, you must understand… what actually happen to the SLDF after Kerensky's Exodus."

One of the walls of the sealed conference room acted like a screen. A presentation began playing, narrated by an oddly youthful voice.

-.

The presentation covered

> Kerensky's war fatigue and the reasons for the Exodus
> The Exodus Road
> The Kerensky Cluster
> The rebellion against Alexandr Kerensky
> The Pentagon Worlds
> Nicholas Kerensky and the Clans
> Their reconquest of the Kerensky Cluster
> The establishment of the Clans and Clan Society
> Their technological development
> Their societal regression
> The extermination of Clan Wolverine
> Their mores and traditions against 'wastefulness'
> The infiltration of Intelser
> The debate between Warden and Crusader Clans
> The arrival of Wolf's Dragoons

-.

Colonel Petersen felt nauseous and light-headed. He swallowed thickly, trying to keep himself from vomiting. He blinked, his eyes stinging and wondered if he was actually shedding tears.

He looked up to see no judgment on everyone else's faces, only sympathy and grief. Those hundreds of years of waiting and hoping, for what?

Everything that the Eridani Light Horse had done to preserve the light of the Star League so that when Kerensky's children returned they would be able to stand proud, it was all pointless. The SLDF was finally and truly dead.

"I understand. So this is our mission now. To defend the Inner Sphere against the monstrosity that the SLDF has become. Why have we not wiped out Wolf's Dragoons yet? We must stop any more information from being sent back to the Clans!"

"Wolf's Dragoons have actually violated their mandate and are trying to prepare the Inner Sphere for defending against the Clans. They have the foolish idea that since House Kurita is closest to the Clans in military philosophy and that they are on the invasion road, it is the Draconis Combine that is best suited to fight the Clans."

"That… that is an asinine conclusion," Petersen groaned. "It is bad enough that the Clans think they can win against the thousand worlds of the Inner Sphere with their mere dozens of barely habitable worlds."

"They benefit from three hundred years of stockpiling and technological progression, instead of regression," Winston noted. "They are, for the most part, united - while each of the Great Houses would have to absorb the invasion. They don't have to fight the entire Inner Sphere - only eat through Steiner and Kurita."

The Great Houses would have to fight this with only half their power because they need to keep reserves against the inevitable backstabbing by their historic opponents. This was part of the duelist's short-term thinking. But at least House Steiner could count on the AFFS backing them. House Kurita would have to hang by itself. Davion would be more able to cycle troops to the Clan front on the Steiner side or grab the now sparsely-defended border worlds as the Clans press on Luthien.

Stimson added "Also they have WarShips. All the SLDF WarShips. If they wanted to bombard worlds down to bedrock, it's only their own traditions and our own horrors of the Succession Wars that can stop them. If they seriously wanted to prevent anyone from recovering worlds, well - that's as easy as blasting DropShips out of orbit."

"Do… we… have WarShips?" asked Petersen.

Armstrong shook his head. "Not to that level and not to those numbers."

"But we do have them," Petersen said with muted hope. "If it is not the SLDF that is supporting us, who is it? The Terran Hegemony? Has Terra and Comstar secretly been our supporters this whole time?"

"Oh nooo…" Stimson groaned.

"He doesn't know…." Fairchild moaned. "I am sorry in advance…"

"Prepare yourself," said Winston.

"Right. I am sorry to have to say this. It gets worse," said Armstrong.

Petersen scowled "What could be worse than knowing the honorable and professional SLDF have turned into fetishic techno-barbarians?!"

The presentation on the wall switched to another topic.


-.

> The formation of Comstar
> Jerome Blake's engineering of Comstar as a religious order
> Conrad Toyama's more militant doctrines
> The messianic rule of Comstar after the 'inevitable' societal collapse of the Inner Sphere
> Operation Holy Shroud
> The insecurity of HPG communications despite Comstar neutrality
> The use of HPG interdiction as a means of pressure upon the Great Houses
> The ComGuards
> Operation Holy Shroud II
> Fostering conflict and civil war across the Inner Sphere
> Would end up supporting the Clans in their invasion by administrating their worlds
> All to weaken the Inner Sphere for their ascendance
> If prevented from achieving their goals, would probably try to achieve it through deliberate apocalyptic action
> The Clarion Note Protocol
> The Clans can only invade and conquer. Comstar can end interstellar civilization on a wide scale and would do it in a fit of pique if ever denied their prophecy or on the verge of their own destruction.

-.

"Why are we not burning to retake Terra right now?!" Petersen roared. To hell with a calm dignified manner befitting a leader. "Comstar is half the reason for the Succession Wars! Every HPG station is an infection! A dagger pointed straight into your own heart. Comstar is the disease that will kill humanity if left unchecked! I thought the Clans were idiotic, but this is deranged. The only way they see themselves winning is by ruling over ashes! We must end them, and quickly, for the safety of all humanity!"

"ComGuards may be green, but Terra still has fifty regiments in their rolls. Five thousand battlemechs," Fairchild said with a reluctant sigh.

"They *also* have WarShips," Stimson had to say. "And unless Comstar has its own civil war, the moment someone tries to take Terra, the whole HPG network goes down and the Clarion Note would prevent even new HPG stations from operating."

"Comstar has the ability to hold the entire human civilization hostage and that is something not even the Clans can manage. The Clans can be beaten militarily. Comstar?" Armstrong made an eloquent shrug, "They are a problem that requires more finesse than what the Light Horse is capable of right now."

Petersen stared at the Brevent General of the Eridani Light Horse RCT for several long moments. "You said right now. This implies something different in time. Is there actually a plan for the future? Even if it is not the Terran Hegemony that is supporting us with new equipment, it is clear that *someone is*, and that they are aware of this. It is clearly not Davion. Who are we secretly taking orders from?"

"No one. The Eridani Light Horse is reactivated fully as the germinate for what will be the second SLDF in service of the Second Star League. Do not misunderstand. *We are all that is left.* We *are* the SLDF in all its totality. We are all *that is necessary*."

"How?"

Stimson interjected "We have a Cameron."

One could almost see the moment Petersen's heart stopped and then restarted with fresh and propitious power.

"That has not been proven and all the tests show otherwise!" Armstrong hissed at Stimson.

"Sir, with all due respect, with all the bullshit that surrounds Devlin Stone, the boy being secretly a Cameron brought out of coldsleep is the least unbelievable thing there is! You know his name anagrams into Devil in Stone. What's a devil in stone? A gargoyle. What's a gargoyle? Something that doesn't move. In stasis. In cold sleep. You know Robotnik plays stupid games like this!"

"He could be an Amaris, you know. Doctor Robotnik was very insistent that Stone is neither a Cameron *nor* an Amaris. Or… actually - have we compared his bloodwork to Natasha Kerensky?" mused Robert Fairchild.

Armstrong groaned and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "Results are… inconclusive."

Stimson crowed "Oh! Ohoho! Have we tested Stone's genetic markers against ALL of the Great Houses? That's one way to have a First Lord, by being related to all of them."

"No. We have not. And I don't think a clone would be viable for rulership by blood rule anyway, that sets a bad precedent."

Petersen asked "Who is Devlin Stone? Who is Doctor Robotnik?"

This time, the wall did not switch to a different presentation. All the heads of Eridani High Command turned towards Petersen, and instinctively he held up his hands defensively.

-.

"All right. I know this is serious. You would not be lying to me." Petersen slammed his fists down on the table. "BUT THIS IS THE MOST BULLSHIT THING YET!"

Their muted chuckles did not help. He pointed accusingly at each of their faces. "Some genius that is contemporary to Kearny and Fuchida themselves, brought himself to the future with the power of some green magical wishrock, helped found the Star League, saw its demise as inevitable, brought himself into the future again, missed his exit point by accident, and died while leaving the Eridani Light Horse with the complete endowment necessary to found a new SLDF and a new Star League with functionally unlimited production capacity."

"Yes."

"Although we call the K/F Drives the Kearny and Fuchida means of FTL and their theories the foundation for hyperpulse generation, the actual names of the engineers responsible for designing the first actual FTL drive in Project Deimos are lost to time," noted Colonel Winston.

"Not that it would help, because Robotnik is obviously a pseudonym," said Fairchild.

"Robotnik is a perfectly valid Polish name," replied Winston.

"The man makes sassy robots," retorted Fairchild.

Winston shrugged. Fair enough.

"Wait, if Stone turns out to be a Cameron… being Robotnik's son, wouldn't this mean Robotnik *is* also a Cameron? *The* Cameron? If you think about it, that makes a lot more sense why he would be wiping his own involvement through space and time and why he can authorize the creation of Port Stone and command the SLDF 331st Battle Regiment in the first place," Stimson noted.

"If he was a Cameron, then he should just have lived," replied Armstrong. "A genius like that dying of deliberate radiation poisoning? The Inner Sphere is diminished from his passing."

"Unless… sorry sir, we're both the ones who managed to personally speak to the man, but as much as he was ostentatious and bombastic - well, I know people who have nothing left to lose can also get cheery just before they end their lives. A man like that, surviving through whole centuries and letting the Star League die because even with all his power he could only make it worse if he tried? That's some big survivor's guilt right there. He focused so much on raising his son into the weapon to beat the Clans and the tool to remake the Star League *because* he didn't want to survive to do it himself. A genius is the one that forgives themselves the least for making mistakes."

"On behalf of Robotnik, I am offended of this crude armchair psychology," said Amstrong.

"Sorry sir."

Armstrong sighed. "But in some way, I also feel that's right. We have the power now. So we have all the responsibility. Stones… shatter, if made to support a load by itself. As adults and fighting men of the SLDF, it's our duty to carry that burden."

-.
-.

"Wait, my question was not answered," Petersen belatedly realized as they were leaving the room. "Why are you sending half of the 71st out into the Periphery instead of cycling back into the fight now that we have assured House Kurita *has* to retaliate in force or lose face?"

Armstrong paused and turned. "The truth is…" he clacked his teeth "we have too many Urbanmechs."

"That… does not actually explain things," Petersen said.

Armstrong reached out to clutch the other man's shoulder with one outstretched arm. His fingers dug in painfully. "Far, far too many Urbanmechs," Armstrong said again, looming over the other man with a dark glower.

-.
-.


Rocco Ali was born in Belgrade, Terra, but his papers and his accent said that he was proud Media City, Donegal-born. His life history showed someone that started off as a reporter covering mercenaries transitioning into being a mercenary himself, becoming fully absorbed in the lifestyle. He had his own mech, a Hunchback of the 'Swayback' variant filling in the AC/20 shoulder bin with banks of Medium Lasers instead of a massive AC/20. He was, of course, an agent of Comstar ROM.

He looked around the room and the collection of new ELH recruits. Most of them looked much more crisp and veteran than he did, slouching there in a red leather jacket with the sleeves pulled up. Some of them were so obviously people from the House militaries ejected with the purpose of infiltrating the ELH. Perhaps by being so obvious, they planned on just earning their way with military action and feed their handlers drabs of information, and as a distraction for other and more subtle agents.

One lady in particular, tall and blonde, looked so Steiner that it was easy to guess she was actually a Kurita agent from Rasalhague. Another was even wearing a blue Sikh turban. Although SAFE was incompetent as far as intelligence agencies go, they were probably not that incompetent and this one was someone genuinely believing in the Eridani Light Horse's propaganda of fighting the good fight; for the sake of all that is good in the Inner Sphere instead of just selfish House interests.

It was just that most everyone outside of House Kurita agreed that sticking it to the Draconis Combine was for the common good as well.

The ELH representative entered. After settling the attention, he informed the gathered group:

"Congratulations to you all! Everyone here has passed the competency tests and security checks, and are probationary Eridani Light Horse combat team members. You have signed the confidentiality agreements, and in the preliminary contract you have also signed you have agreed that the Light Horse may refit or order you to use BattleMechs different to your own personal machines."

The representative gestured towards the positioning of the chairs. They were in four groups of four.

"You have been chosen because everyone in this room is a spy for one or more of the powers in the Inner Sphere or the Periphery, and as such you are assigned to the 71st Training Battalion, deploying out into the poorest regions of space. To educate, to help and build, because real professional soldiers can do more than just destroy."

What.

 

[bluepencil]

To the Wild Frontier 02

---

Fort Bradley
Colchester
Federated Suns
Date unknown


The three Battalion Commanders of the 71st White Horse stood at attention while their Regimental Commander seemed to be studiously ignoring them.

11th Recon Battalion, "Alley Cats", cool and considerate, Major Steve Gray.

17th Recon Battalion, "Screaming Eagles", stern and aristocratic, Major Jim McCracken.

82nd Heavy Cavalry Battalion, "Kerensky's Favorite", huge and imposing, Major George Thomas.

Colonel William Petersen turned around briefly. "What do you prefer? Scotch? Brandy? Gin? Perhaps vodka?"

"Sir?"

Petersen turned to shove three small glasses across the desk. "At ease. This isn't the sort of talk we can have without something to lubricate our thinking."

Major Gray spoke "With all respect, sir - I don't understand. We are not supposed to drink on duty."

"And that is why I am ordering you to have the rest of the day off after this." He poured himself a shot and put the glass down in front of his place on the desk in his office. "You are here to complain. I understand that. I will hear you out. I have already spoken about your concerns to Eridani High Command."

Major Thomas brightened up. "In that case, sir - hang on. This feels like bad news. I guess I will take that brandy, then."

"None for me, thank you," said Major McCracken.

"You will take iced water," ordered Petersen.

"I… will take iced water, thank you sir," McCracken said, as Colonel Petersen poured out into each glass.

"Vodka please," said Major Gray.

Colonel Petersen sat down, and looked into the amber liquid in his glass. He swirled the surface around until it no longer showed his tired reflection. The three battalion commanders had already followed suit.

After a while he said "I understand your concerns. Removing troops from your battalions to form a new training battalion sounds like a unjust orders, more of a punishment after having done your duties to the best of your abilities at the front line. But after knowing High Command's reasons for this - I can say to you right now, this is possibly the most important action we can do for the Light Horse as a whole.

"More important than defeating more enemy regiments. More important than fighting House Kurita. It will be a long and frustratingly boring assignment - but it is in the Outback where the Eridani Light Horse will live or die. These immediate months will mean all the difference if the Eridani Light Horse are worthy of the name or if we are just delusional trash of the Inner Sphere."

"Sir?"

"There are things I cannot tell you due to operational security, but Hanse Davion has given the Eridani Light Horse the open authority to recruit as many people as we want from the Davion Outback."

"Sir. That is good, but that is the sort of thing that does not require dispersing a battalion though?" asked Gray. "It is not particularly difficult, send some support teams out with at most a lance for showpiece demonstrations."

Colonel Petersen gave a small smirk.

He put down the glass and said simply "The Eridani Light Horse has the authority to recruit citizens of the Federated Suns under the Star League banner. As of this moment, every piece of ground the Eridani Light Horse occupies, *counts as a consulate*."

"Sir! Are you saying what I think you're saying?!"

"Are you worthy?" Colonel Petersen asked instead, but gently. "Are you just children wearing the coats of their fathers to make yourselves feel important?" He then raised his glass high, in a salute to the departed. "Or are you ready to give everything you have to the ideas you claim to uphold?"

"We are all willing to die for- ah. I see." Major McCracken started nodding. "Everything we have doesn't just mean our lives in death. But also our lives in *time*."

"House Davion recognizes the Eridani Light Horse as representatives of *the Star League*," Gray breathed. "Something has happened to make House Davion treat us as the SLDF, and so we must behave *as* the SLDF."

"This sounds like the start to something big, sir. Something really, really big. And something that big is sure to have even bigger fights."

Each of the Battalion commanders down their drinks. McCracken truly regretted just then that he was stuck with cold water.

Major George Thomas, normally the most bullish and belligerent among the commanders in the regiment, said "If you think about it, the one thing the SLDF is known for other than fighting is just digging and squirreling things all over the place. Hundreds of years later, people can still hope of finding some secret SLDF cache and being rich as sin. Being teachers instead of soldiers… yeah, I can see how that's part of the same work."

Steve Gray raised a palm up and said "Sir, unfortunately I must mention that our troops are good, but they are not exactly… the most academically-inclined, I would say."

"Is this educational assignment not actually for the benefit of the Outback but as a way to surreptitiously train certain commanders in independent strategy?" McCracken mused.

Petersen sighed.

"Hearts and minds, people. Hearts and minds," he said. "Don't forget that this is as much about being at just as good at peace as we would be at waging war."

Gray nodded. "Understood sir. The SLDF was both carrot and stick. We get that."

McCracken added "It's just that being away from the rest of the unit knowing they are in danger and we are unable to help will be more dangerous to morale than the boredom of being away from the action. Simulators can only do so much, I think." He looked to the distance and stroked his goatee. "Spending most of a year out of contact, even if it is easier to try out maneuvers in the wilderness of unobserved podunk worlds, it will be difficult for the men to keep their skills sharp."

George Thomas only crossed his arms. It was left unsaid that those people sent out there would need to be even more disciplined than the norm. And the 71st White Horse had the worst discipline problems in the RCT.

Specifically, his Battalion. Send the 11th Recon, 17th Recon, and the 82nd Heavy Cav out there? The 82nd used to piloting Assault and Heavy Mechs and Heavy Tanks into the thickest of brawls would go insane from the boredom and probably spend most of their time in space jail.

Colonel Petersen responded "Every new ELH ship has a mobile HPG station on board. We have our own HPG network now. We will never be out of contact again. Our learning computers are busy assimilating Natasha Kerensky's combat data. Those simulators will be able to keep updated with regimental scale information and refight battles experienced by the front line."

"Our own HPG Network what-" McCracken hiccuped.

"Sir! The only ones who could ever give that are-!" Gray gasped.

Petersen interrupted with "- are not relevant. There is no other representative of the SLDF to the Inner Sphere than us. If Kerensky's SLDF-in-Exile ever showed up, we should be willing to fight them too. They surrendered their right to speak about the Inner Sphere when they abandoned it and left the Terran Hegemony to be cut apart like lions tearing into carrion."

Gray sagged back into his seat, temporarily nerveless. To even repudiate Kerensky!

The Eridani Light Horse held Kerensky in the highest esteem. This almost felt like sacrilege or blasphemy. The only higher authority with the ability to grace the Eridani Light Horse would be -

"Sir. Sir… do we…" the words choked and refused to come out, the thought was too unreasonable. "Do we have-"

Again Petersen spoke before they could finish completing their thoughts. "There are matters that High Command knows about that cannot be said due to operational security. Things only five people alive should know."

Five? Ah, right. The Light Horse had four regiments now. Plus the Brevet General. The three Majors nodded in assent.

"I withdraw my objections," said Major Gray.

McCracken said next "We will calm the troops, sir. But it just occurred to me that if we are supposed to give everything we have, then someone should be in command out there. It would be a meaningful sacrifice, but it would still be a serious morale issue."

Major George Thomas said "If ordered, sir, I will obey. But please don't choose me sir."

Colonel Petersen waved with his left hand. "It is a fourth battalion composed of elements from your three battalions. Run it like a miniature version of the Light Horse."

Gray brightened. "Indeed a fascinating idea, sir! Captains electing a Brevet Major."

McCracked added "If it is meant to be the Regiments in miniature, then they should be combined arms companies."

"All Light Horse Battalions are already combined arms in the first place," was Gray's response.

Major Thomas grumbled lightly. "Mmhrm. Losing three Assault/Heavy lances would be pain, but it can be endured."

Here Colonel Petersen chuckled. The Majors turned from their discussion to look quizzically at him. He smirked again with his lips hidden behind the rim of the glass. "What do we look like, an RCT with too few Urbanmechs? You will take your Assault-weight Urbanmechs, and you will *like it*."

...

... The three commanders stared back at Petersen's somewhat sadistic grin.

"... I don't understand anything anymore," said Steve Gray.

Petersen waved it away. "High Command will be sending formal directives. But work out the assignments among yourselves."

"Sir, yes sir!"

Before they were dismissed, Petersen looked down at his drink again. Almost empty. He swirled the liquid in the glass. "Who do you think is kin to boar?" asked Petersen softly.

"House Calderon, maybe? No, those are bulls."

"There has to be some lesser noble house out there with a pig on their heraldry. Is this something we should research, sir?"

"Can it rob?" Petersen murmured further.

A kin to a boar that is a robber? Was this some sort of code? Or someone that was involved in a robbery? Maybe it was a clue to yet another hidden SLDF cache.

Kin to boar.

Kanitrob.

Kabitron.

Cameron?

He sighed softly.

Colonel Petersen looked up. "The Second Star League begins and ends with us. Never doubt this. Not until your last dying breath. This is our responsibility and we will see it done."

He slammed the glass down on the desk like a judge's gavel. "Dismissed."

-.
-.

Later, with 17th Recon Battalion "Screaming Eagles":

"If you will not follow orders, then you can just leave. The Third RCT does not need officers that put their own desires over the long-term objectives of the unit. Go out and become your own boss if you feel that strongly about this."

The company commanders stared askance at their commanding officer. Just yesterday Major McCracken had been telling them that he was ready to fight for as long as it takes to keep them together and get back into doing something more useful.

"Sir, that seems far too escalatory," said one of the Captains with a betrayed tone.

McCracken slammed his palms down onto the table, then curled his fingers back like talons. He hurled back firmly "You will comport yourselves as *true* officers and soldiers of the SLDF! This is our time!"

Those words rang like a bell through the room and seeped into their bones. That cold hawk-like gaze had no hesitation whatsoever. Everybody in that room, no matter their history together, no matter how much they had bled and laughed and fought together - he was ready to sign their papers if they still objected.

Their blood started to thunder.

Even if the Light Horse lacked manpower -

There was only one reason to be so willing to discard the disobedient!

Those- who lacked faith!

"Sir!" Everyone stood up, punched their own chests hard to the point of bruising, and bowed their heads. Just as it would have hurt to know that Amaris had taken Terra, but Kerensky still ordered them to wait and prepare. "Apologies, sir! We hear and obey!"

-.
-.

With the 11th Recon Battalion, "Alley Cats":

"Sir! Just recruiting from the Davion Outback isn't enough! We should take all from over the Inner Sphere! I'm sure there are enough orphans out there to build whole Divisions!"

"After all this time together, I did not realize this. Are you all drongos?" groaned Major Gray.

-.
-.

With the 82nd Heavy Cavalry Battalion, "Kerensky's Favorite":

"Greatness demands sacrifice. The difference is that Kurita chooses to have other people sacrifice for theirs!" Major George Thomas roared. "IF YOU HAVE PROBLEMS WITH THIS, FIGHT MEEE!!!"

And the cool and completely unintimidated response "Sir, we are the battalion 'Kerensky's Favorite' and we saw you get your ass beat by Natasha Kerensky. Please do not take your romantic rejection out on us please."

"YOU PIECES OF SHIIIT. GO TO THE PERIPHERY!"

-.
-.


Fort Bradley Training Base Adjunct
Colchester
Federated Suns
Date unknown

Meanwhile, with the new recruits:

Of the sixteen that were identified and put into a special company, only three quit from the insult. Another two more quit when they were ordered to put aside their mechs and start training with industrialmechs and agromechs. They came to the storied Light Horse to be soldiers, not laborers. The pay scale wasn't all that interesting anyway.

They were all obviously ringers meant to be found and distract from the other real spies inserted into more mundane jobs like technical crew and civilian support staff.

Rocco Ali was starting to get a feel for how the Eridani Light Horse operated. They were a crisp and professional military unit, and the way they moved without an ounce of waste reminded him of what he had observed from Comstar's own ComGuards. The defenders of Terra had almost never needed to fight, and so for all their tech and numbers were as green as green could be. Even random pirates with real battle experience could give them trouble. But they just drilled and operated on base so exceedingly well.

The Light Horse had that flair of a well-oiled military machine that maintained both institutional order and the vitality of unique individual effort.

They were so respectable and rational that one could get caught up in their flow when suddenly the Light Horse would say something that was just absolute nonsense and blithely move on as if expecting you to just go along with it.

"Psst. Hey!" the dark-skinned man to the left of Rocco Ali whispered, hiding his mouth with his palm. "So, Steiner boy, what are you in for? I'll tell you right now if you tell me yours. I'm an agent from the Magistracy of Canopus."

Rocco stared dully at him from the side.

"Yeah, I know what you're thinking. It's the Magistracy. Why don't they send some va-voom bombshell, eh? But that's why this isn't a honeypot recruiting operation, you know?"

"Calling everyone in this room spies was obviously just psy ops designed to turn participants against each other to test teamwork," Rocco Ali said simply before turning back to his work.

"Sure, sure, if you say so." The man grinned. Two of his upper teeth were gold. "So the question is… are you low key?"

I will not break cover and punch a jackass in the face. I will not break cover and punch a jackass in the face.

Rocco gestured over to the tall statuesque blonde at the front seats. "Shouldn't you try asking her that?"

William Launder turned towards the woman in question, then leered. "She would break me over her knee for that and I would enjoy it too much."

"I am done with this." Rocco looked back down to his noteputer, and furrowed his brows.

-.

Topic: The Return of the Star League. Who is it Good For?

-.

What the hell, Eridani Light Horse?

What the hell.

-.

"I came here to be a mechwarrior, not to go back to college!" one of the men screamed and tossed away his noteputer. "Why must I write an esssaaayyy?! "

"Yes my brother! Testify!" another recruit beside him raised both fists. "This is cruel! This is unjust! A thousand words of fuck you!"

'Are these people actually spies?' thought Jadwiga Winter. 'Or just morons?'

She returned to her noteputer and seriously considered her homework.

This was not something all that complicated. Everyone had thought about something like this at some point, dreaming of a return to a golden age, but not quite being able to imagine the necessary conditions for the Inner Sphere's spiral of degradation to reverse itself.

Some houses probably benefited more than the others. House Liao probably would like a freeze on their borders and losing worlds. House Kurita's military ambitions would need to be broken first. Ironically, perhaps Davion would benefit the least from the return of the Star League and would be better off trying to remain independent. Marik and Steiner enjoyed having more worlds than what they had during the Star League. And of course, everyone would rather retain control over the highly productive worlds they had seized from the Terran Hegemony.

Her introduction started:

The Inner Sphere should dread the return of the SLDF. Because at the minimum,
it would require in them a willingness and a capacity to fight everybody
everywhere all at once at the same time and still have the confidence for
victory.

 

[bluepencil]

To the Wild Frontier 03

---

Pascagoula
Edgeward Draconis March
Federated Suns
May 3025

Those who lived in the Davion Outback stared up at the night sky with all the intensity of the ancient astrologers that built pyramids and erected massive stone monoliths, all for much the same reason - they sought portents among the stars.

"Paw! Paw, there's a light!" Suzanne Klering jumped from the windowsill back inside, and then downstairs. "There's two lights!"

"Tarnation are you still doing awake?!" her father, Thomas Klering hurled back. "Stop climbing to the roof, you fool girl! Don't break your neck and go to sleep!"

On a farm in the Davion Outback, dinner was just after sunset. As soon as the lights were down, most everyone turned in. Early to bed, early to rise. The farm had an old methane-powered generator that sufficed to light up the living room and run some ancient radios and a primitive holo-reader.

"A light? From where, lil Missy?" asked Granpa Tucker Klering, sitting by the window on a rocking chair and puffing on a pipe. He looked out towards the fields and relaxed in the cool night air.

"Down north!"

The entire family froze.

Because the nadir jump point was right above the star, any dropship on the approach to a world was only properly visible from the hemisphere facing the system's sun. Which of course meant that for most of the time, the drive flare was invisible like the rest of the starry sky. Transit drives could only be visible when the dropships were close enough approaching the polar coordinates that even the side facing away from the sun, at night, could see two new points of light across the northern horizon.

Mother Winona Klering went over to her child and hugged her, much to Suzanne's protests that she was no longer a baby. Father Thomas, eldest brother Tucker the Second, and second brother Timothy, rushed outside.

"Dang," Second Tucker spat as he squinted towards the horizon. "She's right."

"Could just be a trader," said Timothy.

"If it were some Mule comin' in to trade with the capital, one woulda be enough. Two dropships? That's someone with mechs or summat and all the cargo for loot." The eldest son shook his head.

"What do we do, paw?" asked Timothy.

Thomas Clearing shook his head. "We're far enough from the city. Pirates like that want to go where the loot is. We don't got nothing to worry about."

He glanced towards the house, and his wife and daughter.

Unless the loot these raiders wanted were slaves, he did not say.

"We should have a listen to what the radio says," he finished up. "Maybe… maybe this won't be something that ends in blood."

-.
-.

Pascagoula was considered a low-tech world. This meant anywhere from the dawn of industrialization up to an early 22nd century tech level. For this hard-scrabble farming world, this meant a level of technology and society that could be maintained near indefinitely at around the pre 1950s in certain areas, with a sprinkling of the 31st century in the homes of the nobility.

Radio was one of the few free luxuries in the Outback, if you happened to be close enough to the fusion-powered tower transmitter. Even someone with a simple crystal radio receiver, which required no power whatsoever, could have their lives eased a little bit by music, chatter, and news about the stars.

If you were far from the city, then you had to wait for the best time for radiowaves to bounce off the ionosphere at night. With the generator chugging in the background, the family settled in to listen from the night-time broadcast.

There was only old-timey jazz music.

After nearly half an hour, someone finally started speaking. "Welcome back, listeners! You are tuning into Thirty-Three Point Three FAST Ay Emmmm, shout out to all our folks out there in the Wilds! Now to update on our visitors - we don't have an HPG, so but they've been beaming radio down all this while to the starport. They say they're Davion. It's the Vagabond Schools!"

Everyone suddenly let out loud sighs of relief.

"Of course, because we don't have any of those fangled advanced equipment like what the military and Comstar uses, we can't be sure they are who they say they are just yet. Prepare for the worst and hope for the best, listeners!"

Thomas Klering scowled. "He's right. We have time. We can hide."

"Mmh." Grandpa Tucker puffed at his pipe. "Last time the raid got this far into the farm was in… '82 or 84, I think? We all went out to hide in a hole we dug in the forest. We came back to see everything ransacked. T'waren't no pirates though - it was the neighbors! Haw!"

The old man laughed and began slapping his own knee in hilarity.

Thomas was not laughing.

Then Grandpa Tucker said "Course, then mamaw died later that year cos the pirates looted all the meds and stole away all the doctors into slaves."

Suzanne, who was not old enough to have ever experienced a raid before, shivered in her mother's arms.

"Let's hope it really is just Davion," Thomas sighed.

"Psh, what's Davion good for?! They don't protect us anyhows, and now they come along making people do things. All this talk of free educating's just a trap ta get good boys and girls to sign up to soldiering and get kilt!" Grandpa Tucker spat.

Thomas Klering said nothing. He clutched his palms together under his nose.

"I heard soldiering pays a lot though," Second Tucker Klering said. "You get to eat well and ain't that much more painful than farm work. Families get a pension when you die."

The old man looked away and sagged into his rocking chair. "My brudder went off ta' war… and that's why we got that holo reader. He used to send holotapes talking about soldier life and all the planets he was going to. Tank commander lieutenant, that's pretty high living for a farmboy, huh?"

Grandpa Tucker emptied his pipe of ashes and sighed. "Kurita mech burned him alive in his tank. Died out there in some stupid Kurita world, how did he defend Davion with that? All the lords are all alike - they're gonna trap you with promise of glory and let you die for their stupid lines on a map. T'aint a good way to live, t'aint a good way to die…"

-.
-.

A day later and the lights had vanished from the horizon. The DropShips had landed.

The night-time broadcast announced "Whoo-wee! Looks like we got lucky, listeners! It *is* Davion! Oh they are *armed*. If these battlemechs were out for blood there's no way we could've survived. But they're here as our friends, so they're aaaaaall riiiiiiight.

"Better news! They're here to give and to take. What they're taking is your children! There's a new Vagabond School set up on DeBerry, next star over. There's slots for a hundred children to get educated in the first steps to a real high class career - doctors, engineers, architects, artists, spacemen, you name it!

"But even if they don't go off to better futures offworld, after nine months they can come back with a specialization and tools to set up their own workshop. Veterinarians, mechanics, foremen, surveyors, and other jobs that can be finished with practical experience! All of this, for free. Everything will be provided by the Ministry of Education. You can't buy your way into this, folks!

"That means that for those hundred slots, it's a lottery! You got a week to bring your kids to sign up! All that matters is that they are from thirteen to fifteen!

"And then this goes into the next thing - what they're giving away. It's another lottery! There's sixteen Agro and Industrial Mechs up for grabs - thirty two in total! If you're signed up, then you're ready to win!

"If you're too far from the capital, don't worry. Davion's sending ships out to every town all over the world. But there's only so many seats in there. So if you can't make your way to New Fostoria on your own, then I guess it's up to each town to select down how many kids can fly out. Maybe another lottery?

"Oh no. Are we being afflicted by the sin of gambling? Haha, try not to get hooked on games of chance, dear listeners! It can ruin you!"

The family turned to the two children - Suzanne Klering, age thirteen. Timothy Klering, age fifteen.

"We shouldn't miss this," Winona Klering said firmly, her eyes ready to fight.

Thomas nodded. "It's gonna be expensive staying in the city though. Better be prepared to sleep inside the truck." It was hardly that bad. Without a load it was roomy enough and still protected from the elements. But the children had to get some treats if they're out in the big city. Maybe if it didn't pan out, he could get some schoolbook and some cheap holos instead. Their savings could still hold up for that.

This gambling for schooling thing… this would probably be just a loss, but it was a fine enough excuse to have a day of fun for the children, even if it would take two days of travel. Tucker was old enough now that he was more interested in just the next town over and finding a girl to marry.

-.
-.

New Fostoria
Pascagoula
Federated Suns
Some time later
The whole planet only had a population of 61.5 million people. There were three continents - Colfax, which contained the planetary capital, Sylvan Lake, and Reynolds. Colfax carried 40 million, and its capital had a population of nearly 200,000 people.
The outskirts of the city were barren sandy ruins. There was a time when New Fostoria had a population of over a million.

But as they approached the center, there appeared that rarity of rarities - a traffic jam!

A patrolman on a motorcycle sidled up to the truck. "You there! Here to sign up your kids to the Vagabond School too?"

"Yes, sir!" replied Thomas Klering.

"Follow that road to the east," the patrolman pointed to a road that several vehicles were detaching from the logjam to move on. "There's another recruiting station set up at the end of it. After you sign up, *then* you can try to go into the city."

"Yessir, thank you sir!"

As Thomas turned the wheel, he wondered "Recruiting station? Huh. Wonder why they call it that?"

-.

"What the sam hill is this?! This is a military camp!" Thomas Klering muttered.

Four standing battlemechs glowered above the parking area. Farmers and other citizens nervously parked their vehicles and joined the lines. Small tents provided water and bread sticks for free. Cloth streamers hung from tall poles on either side of the plaza to put the center area in shade.

"Oooh!" Obviously the children were enamored by the Mechs. "So big! So that's a real BattleMech!"

A Vindicator, a Hunchback, and two Griffins, to be precise.

There were two more yellow mechs with a curious dome shape and odd lobster-like hands protruding off the belly of the machine instead of where shoulders should be. Those arm locations had instead a pair of cranes. If ever Thomas was asked what an IndustrialMech would look like, he was now sure of saying 'yup, those look like IndustrialMechs all right'.

Two more much smaller mechs that looked like an egg with arms and legs and a carrying basket over their hips. Those were probably the Agromechs.

He could see people being helped in and out of the cockpits of the mechs. They remained locked in place, but the civilian mechs could swing around and try out movement and handling without the use of a neurohelmet. There were some small cargo pods that could be picked up to test the responsiveness of waldoes.

Eventually what drew his eye were the two lines at the far end of the old plaza, each in front of two flags. One had a long but orderly line. The red and gold sunburst behind a sword flag of the Federated Suns. Another had a small crescent of people watching from holos but unwilling to approach further. That one had the flag of the Star League above.

One of the tents was marked INFORMATION.

"Joining the Vagabond Schools waiting list is simple. Just fill out this form. Your children will have to join the line to get their biometrics and neural signature data taken. This will ensure no substitution or collusion can happen to the children. After that, they are due for a free health check-up. Adults too, if you want. Vaccinations are free as well."

"If it's all right to ask, what's that?" he pointed to the spot with the Star League flag.

"Oh, that is simply the SLDF recruiting station."

"The what."

"The SLDF recruiting station," the pale-blonde woman replied with a fixed smile.

"Uh, you… you all know that the SLDF are, like gone, right? The Star League fell hundreds of years ago."

"The Star League Defense Forces have returned. The Eridani Light Horse never left the Inner Sphere and they are looking for people to join the Third Regimental Combat Team."

What the hay is going on here?"

-.

While waiting for the children to process the line, Thomas inspected the information posters pasted on to the old walls.

BE ALL YOU CAN BE!

The Federated Suns doesn't just need soldiers!
For every man or woman in the AFFS, they need
the support of dozens of civilian specialists. They
need your help to keep fightin!

While others fight to defend the freedoms of good
people in the Federated Suns, it is also up to us
to make these worlds worthy of that defense.

Every citizen has the right to try to reach their
fullest potential. We need more teachers, doctors,
engineers, lawmen, large-scale farming and mining
specialists, drivers and pilots, space crew and more!
Be all you can be - don't let anyone stop you from
trying to achieve your dreams!

You don't have to do violence to serve. Make the
Worlds of the Federated Suns safe and lawful with
honest effort!

Sign up for the AFFS Collegiate Program today!

-.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side:

YOU ARE NOT COMING BACK.

Only by looking forward can you protect those
who stand behind you. You will carry the debt
of honor on your shoulders. Side by side with
your brothers and sisters in the SLDF, only you
can bring peace back into the Inner Sphere.

House Kurita is one main reason your life is full of
suffering. If they were not so intent on conquering
the entire Inner Sphere, things would be like in
the days of the Star League when taxes could be
put aside for peace and good works instead of
always fighting to keep the Draconis Combine
at bay.

For the wars to stop, the SLDF must come back
in strength to secure the borders. The Star
League can only be established again from the
Inside.

We are the SLDF 16th Army, 11th Corps,
3rd RCT- ERIDANI LIGHT HORSE.
When Kerensky abandoned the Inner Sphere, we
remained, to maintain the virtues of the Star
League, and to welcome them when they return.

The time has come.
The Succession Wars for an empty throne will end.
We are rebuilding the Star League Defense Force.

> You will have the finest training maintained since
Kerensky's own SLDF.

> You will be armed with the best technology
and equipment have been long considered lostech.

> You will ply the stars on new vessels made
for the new doctrine created just for you.

> You will have the support of the finest logistical
network ever devised by man.

>You will be part of the greatest endeavor since
the establishment of the Star League itself.

> You will become fully a citizen of the Star League
with all its rights and responsibilities separate from
your Great House allegiances.

Prove yourself worthy of the name, and through
a thousand years across a thousand worlds,
you will only ever know victory.

Are you ready to be greater than yourself?

-.

"Are… are you allowed to *say* this?" someone asked the officer sitting behind the desk. People were looking around, but the plaza was clear of stones.

"The Third RCT has been reactivated. We are, once again, officially the SLDF. Do you see that line?" A box was painted onto the cleared bricks. A sign said Beyond this line is SLDF territory. AFFS law is superseded by SLDF law. "You are not coming back, because as long as you are a soldier of the SLDF, you are not anymore *a citizen of the Federated Suns*. We only need the ones ready to give up everything."

One of the parents pointed to the sign

RECRUITMENT LIMITS
Ages 14-16 only.

"Why do you want to take our children?!"

"MechWarriors are best trained from an early age," was the response.

The word was enough to send their bones ringing. MechWarrior. Across a thousand years, BattleMechs and those who fought in them were the elites among elites.

"Davion needs as many MechWarriors as they can have, don't they? Why would they even allow this?"

"Because we are the SLDF and we have a treaty."

Murmurs of disbelief greeted this declaration.

"I want to be MechWarrior!" shouted a boy. He shrugged off the hold of his parents, ran into the space, and faced the desk. His father shouted but hesitated on crossing the line. The man looked up nervously towards the BattleMechs.

"Child of the Federated Suns, be more mindful," said the recruiter. "Remember this - until you surrender your commission in SLDF, if you are a noble, you will not inherit. If your parents have property, you will not inherit. You will be leaving your family behind it would be years before you might see them again. Maybe even never again. If you just want to be a MechWarrior… then try joining the AFFS, maybe?"

The boy scoffed "Then what's all this then? If you don't want more MechWarriors, then just say so! You need me more than I need you!"

The recruiter yawned and turned back to his noteputer. "Our Assault Mechs need soldiers that are capable of following orders and working with a team."

That left the boy standing there, alone and hearing the tittering of the crowd. He clenched his fists, standing straight and trying not to cry from the humiliation. He turned around, shouting "You will regreeet thiiiss!!!"

The recruiter lets some time pass and then sighed. "Not even thirty seconds. Children sure do lack patience these days, huh? If they can't even get through that, they won't be able to get through basic training. Just be a doctor or something."

He pointed to the left. "The Neurohelmet Test is free anyway. There is no obligation to join up."

Then another teen stepped up. "I want to be a MechWarrior!"

"Not without your parent's permission, you can't."

"Don't got none! Uh… Sir!"

The recruiter looked up. The teen was a young man with scraggly brown hair. "How did you get here then?"

"I work! Sir! Hitched a ride with my boss! Sir!"

"Fine." The recruiter gestured to a nearby cockpit-like chair. "Sit down and put on the neurohelmet. That will measure your BattleMech control compatibility."

The boy saluted "Thank you sir!"

The boy sat on the chair and a robotic arm lowered the bucket-like helmet over his head. A hologram rose up from the floor in front of the chair. It was a Marauder BattleMech. The people let out a small 'ooh' of interest.

A digitized female voice said:
"Initiating control test one. Please imagine yourself and the BattleMech moving forward at the same time."

The boy lifted his foot slightly, and the simulated Mech raised its left leg. He leaned forward slightly, and the Mech took one forward step. Then it began rocking back and forth in place as the boy tried to get the other leg to move without the mech losing balance."

"Try not to think too hard about it," the recruiter advised. "Neurohelmets are there to make mechs move like your own body. Relax and move naturally."

The mech took one sliding step forward. Then another. Then finally a few steps of real movement.

Then the mech fell flat on its face.

"Initiating control test two. Please move the arms according to the directions."

On the holo, arrows overlaid the image. Move the arms up. Left. Right. Down. Upper Left. Etc.

"Please twist the torso according to the directions."

And then after that, a more complicated sequence of moving the arms while twisting the torso.

"Initiating control test three. Pull the trigger and imagine firing weapons from each arm."

The holo let out a loud *FSHRAK!* of a PPC bolt. People jerked back in surprise. Someone clapped.

"Initiating control test three. Movement in combat. Please imagine moving forward and aiming towards the provided target."

A small sphere appeared a short distance away from the simulated Marauder. The Marauder took a few step, fired its PPCs, missed, and fell flat on its face again.

The chair let out some beeps and boops, and then with a chime displayed on the LCD screen atop the testing chair:

MECH CONTROL COMPATIBILITY: 77.13%.
PASS.

A few more people started clapping.

"Hey, kiddo. Did you sign up to the Vagabond School? What's your name?" the recruiter asked.

"Y-yes sir! I'm… Billyson, sir! Just Billyson."

"Come over here, Billy." The recruiter then passed a small data slate and a credstick to the boy. "If you pull out from the vagabond school class lottery that gives someone else a free slot. Are you sure you want to sign off your life to the SLDF?"

The boy turned to look for his boss. The squat pimpled man that owned a restaurant nodded. "Sure I'm sure, sir!"

"Congratulations. Here, present this to the guards. You have a signing bonus of five hundred C-bills, free lodging at the hostel until we leave, and a thousand C-bills of child support remuneration to whoever you designate as your guardian. Relax and settle everything you want to do in this world. You're not coming back."

Suddenly knowing money was involved had everyone in an uproar.

"I want to sign up!"

"Hey! Can my child be a mechwarrior too?!"

"Can girls be a mechwarrior?!"

There was a loud piercing sound as someone stepped over the yellow line. The gun turrets behind the recruiter spun up. Abruptly, people remembered that SLDF military law meant that anyone trespassing could be shot and Davion wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

"One at a time, please," said the recruiter. "The test is, after all, free to take. There is no obligation to join. The results of this test would be valid for joining the AFFS later, if that is your preference."

Thomas felt tugging at his sleeves. He looked down to see that his children had already finished signing up to the School Lottery. Now Suzanne was looking up at him with big doe eyes for a test.

"No!" Thomas Klearing immediately yelled at them.

One of the parents raised their hand. "Can adults be tested too?"

"Sure, why not?" the recruiter responded. "We will bring out some more testing chairs and set up a separate line."

-.

"I wanted to try…" Suzanne pouted. "It's not fair."

"Paw… if I can be a MechWarrior, that's big. Instead of gambling on a school, it's a sure thing!"

"What, and just abandon your family so easily? You're gonna spit in our eye for raising you to live just like that? I'm not letting it be! That's for orphans and people who ain't wanted by their families!" Thomas grunted. "Instead of a mech… here, try out the agromech."

"There's a lot of people, prolly not going to get this anyway…" Timothy murmured mulishly.

He soon changed his mind however. The Ruralmech was, unlike the neurohelmet simulation of a BattleMech, was a real thing. The waldoes responded perfectly, and the height of the machine made him feel powerful.

The smaller Ergomechs were 15 tons and subject to stricter supervision were now being allowed to walk and run and pick up and toss things, five minutes per test pilot. Now the pair of small ultralight mechs were doing a catch and throw game.

Those controls were very refined and responsible for comparatively crude physical-motion tracking.

Thomas Klering was handed a pamphlet explaining the details of the 30-ton Ruralmech. "Can this run on liquified methane?" he asked the roving support staff.

"It doesn't sir."

"Then what's the fuel? Gasoline?"

"It doesn't sir. Need any fuel, that is. It's fusion-powered."

The farmer boggled. "And you're just giving this away?!"

The ELH support personnel winced. "We… have *a lot* of Ruralmechs."

Suzanne had managed to slip away and ran for the lines to the neurohelmet test.

-.

"Suzanne! Where are you girl?!" Thomas Klering shouted.

"She's not at the mechwarrior lines," Timothy responded with a wheeze, having just ran from there. The line was getting long, it was getting late in the afternoon, and his heart pained from missing his chance.

"Paw!" Suzanne shouted back, waving from the food booth. "Look! I got free ice pops!"

The girl showed them three flavored frozen candies.

"Where'd you get this?"

The girl pointed to a booth handing out free treats. It was right next to another tent labeled

AEROSPACE FIGHTER PILOT
COMPATIBILITY TESTING

"Aw come on!" Thomas Klering felt like ripping the hat off his head and throwing it to the ground in consternation.

 

[bluepencil]

To the Wild Frontier 04

Pascagoula
Edgeward Draconis March
Federated Suns
One week later


"Paww! Paawww! There's a plane!"

While the crops were growing in the landscape only made barely arable by ancient terraforming era water channels, there was still much to do around the farm. Like most homesteads in the poor worlds, they tried to be as self-sufficient as much as possible.

Old Granpa Tucker stayed cool by the porch, puffing on his pipe. "Hoho, that aint' no reg'lar plane. I know that sound."

Suzanne ran back out, with Thomas Klering wiping his hands with a rag as he had been feeling slop to the pigs. The plane circled around the farm and then hovered in place. The rest of the family one by one went out to the front yard. The aircraft let out a dull roar as it slowly landed vertically.

A wave of kicked-up dust rolled towards the farm. Everyone coughed and shielded their faces.

"What is that?" Thomas asked.

"Aint' no airplane. That's a space plane!" said Grandpa Tucker. "I'da seen it in the holos. It's a lander that's smaller than a dropship an' bigger than a fighter! Dunno why they call it a Small Craft for some reason."

"So you think it's Davion?"

"Who else would give a crap, you think?" the old man cackled.

A small jeep rolled out from the back of the craft, and soon enough met up with the family. Two people stepped out, a man and a woman. The man was tall and dressed in green military fatigues. The woman was wearing a crisp orange pants-suit. They were both wearing sunglasses.

"Good morning! Is this the homestead of the Klering family?" the woman asked as she approached, taking out a noteputer pad.

"It is," Thomas answer.

"Excellent!" She marked down something on the pad, then held out a hand. She had fingerless gloves on. "Vivian Waters, Vagabond Instructor. Happy to meet you."

"Uh, Thomas Klering. Same, I reckon." They shook hands.

The man pressed a fist to his chest and bowed slightly. "Corporal John Merot, Support Division, Eridani Light Horse."

Thomas was unsure of how to receive the gesture, so just imitated it. He asked "Well then, may I ask what brings you folks here? Good news I hope?"

"Indeed, Mister Klering! Your child was lucky enough to be selected to the first round of the De Berry Vagabond School, school year of 3025-3026. Is Suzanne Klering present?"

"That's me! That's me!" the girl raised her hand excitedly.

"Aww fooey!" Timothy huffed.

"Congratulations!" Tucker Second rubbed that top of Suzanne's head. The girl slapped at his calloused hands indignantly.

The instructor continued "The selection process is completely random and does not take into consideration any educational aptitude. However, this is not very relevant, as it is the philosophy of the Vagabond Schools that every child has the potential to be good at something. These nine months build a foundation that would allow them to find their specialization."

Suzanne looked up and then nervously sidled up to her mother's side. "Do I gotta leave now?"

"Haha, not yet. Please take another five days to prepare. After this, it will be another nine months before you can come home. We will periodically be able to send holos on a monthly basis though as the jumpships go on rotation."

"Tch. Good luck, I guess," Timothy muttered. He crossed his arms and bit his lip. "Werent expectin' anything to happen anyhoos."

Suzanne glanced at him, then to her parents looking down at her with more worry than pride. She would be going away all by herself to a strange place with new strange people. Only now was it becoming clear to her how… scary that would be. At thirteen years old, she was no longer a child and had formed her personality, but being the sole girl in a distant farm meant that she was ill-socialized with other girls.

"Can I just… could someone have someone else go?"

"The 'ticket', as is stands, is non-transferrable, I am sorry." The instructor shook her head and smiled gently. "That is why biometrics and brain patterns were taken. Next time though, children who are already registered won't need to stand in line anymore. There's always next year."

Suzanne licked her lips. She reached out into her pocket and brought out a card. "Even if… I have this?"

The card stated: NEUROHELMET COMPATIBILITY: 94.6%.

Thomas glanced over, quickly snapped the card from her hand and read it. His face clouded over with fury. "I see! This is what you were after?! You cheats! I won't allow it!"

"Ah, sir. This is a coincidence, a coincidence! Even if that were so, parental permission is still required, so no one is ever really obligated to sign up to any military-"

"Get out of here, you child thieves!"

The ELH soldier stepped up protectively in front of the instructor. He bellowed "COOL YOUR HEAD!"

He grabbed Thomas Klering's outstretched arm by the wrist. "SINCE WHEN DO YOU THINK THE SLDF WOULD BE SO DESPERATE AS TO RIP CHILDREN AWAY FROM THE ARMS OF THEIR PARENTS?!" He pushed, letting go, and the farmer stepped unsteadily backwards.

The ELH man hissed out "Think clearly, man! Even if she spends nine months being told all sorts of things designed to get her to sign up - it does not matter. She is still too young anyway. She will not be able to sign up without your approval. If we just wanted to steal children, why bother with all this show? It would be much easier to just raid orphanages! How many starving families do you think would be happy to give up their children at least in the hope they would have a better and more structured life?"

The soldier waved to the farm behind the family. "You own your own land, with your own home. You are in your own way, privileged, but limited by the conditions of your homeworld. It is *fine* if other people fight for your sake. Pay your taxes and support the Federated Suns, only we ask you do not insult the honor of those ready to die for your safety.

"The SLDF only takes the willing and most determined. We need people willing and ready to fight, not just any random child!"

Thomas glared up hatefully, then took a deep breath. He pushed down anger at being overpowered, called out as wrong, and humiliated in front of his family. "All right. I was maybe out of line there. You promise she comes back?"

The ELH soldier stepped aside, and the instructor warily answered "It's like a boarding school. Boarding schools are not unusual. She will be safe and well taken care of, don't worry."

Now Suzanne jutted out her chin and muttered mulishy "I could fight. Can't girls join the SLDF? Don't tell me I can't fight. Chase your dreams, you said! Ow!"

Timothy rapped the top of her head with his knuckles. The girl rubbed at her crown and scowled. The boy looked up to ask "Can I join up next year? The SLDF has more than just mechwarriors, right? Even if I don't pass the test?"

"Not without your parent's permission, no," was the answer.

"Enough of this tomfoolery!" Thomas growled at his son.

"Barnacles!" the boy muttered in defeat.

"That being said, sir - we do need proof of your approval that Suzanne Klering will take part in the first batch. Slots are very limited, so we need you to sign off on this. Any cancellations ought to be done early so people on the alternative list can slot in."

Thomas looked down at his daughter. "It's up to you, girl."

Suzanne pursed her lips. "I guess I'll go then."

"Wonderful." The instructor passed the noteputer over. "Please sign here."

The ELH soldier then coughed into his fist.

"All right then. We are now only informing you of this so that it does not unduly influence your decision as if we were trying to bribe you or something like that. On behalf of the Ministry of Ways and Means, we are pleased to inform you that you have also won the Industrial Mech lottery."

He flicked open a small handheld holo projector, showing the prize. "Unfortunately, it is not the Ruralmech, but the Ergomech should still be useful on the farm."

Beeping noises came from the Small Craft. Slowly the egg-shaped utility mech slid out on rails and hoisted up to a standing position. A forklift began moving it out onto dry ground.

"The Ergomech - the ergo is intentional, it is not a mistake for agro - is a general-purpose ultralight industrial mech.It is capable of using a Combine harvester or Chainsaw attachment, and contains a Sprayer for irrigation or firefighting. It can carry through a system of pulleys and baskets up to half its own weight. It is 15 tons and capable of running up to fifty-four kilometers per hour, and protected by three tons of Heavy Industrial armor."

"Uoooh!" Timothy yelped and pumped his fist with glee. "I remember that! It's better cos it has arms!" He turned to Tucker the Second. "Bro! This is good! This is really good!"

Thomas grimaced. "Is it also fusion powered? Can I… refuse?"

"Paw, come on!" Timothy begged.

"Yes, it is. And yes, you can. But sir, would you care to guess what is the actual production cost of a 45-rated Fusion Engine that weighs a single ton?" the ELH soldier asked.

"Do I have to answer?" Thomas Klering sighed. "I don't want to play any more games."

"One million!" Suzanne chirped.

"Too high!" Timothy crowed. "One- one hundred thousand!"

The ELH officer smiled. "Forty-five thousand. It's the cheapest part of the agromech apart from the three-ton foamed metal endoskeleton. Even the myomers and the motors combined should cost forty-six thousand from the factory. Just because something is fusion-powered does not make it that much more valuable over a combustion engine counterpart. It is more convenient, yes, because then you can siphon power out of it for centuries instead of a power plant, but fusion engines aren't lostech."

"Ain't mechs expensive though? How much would this agromech really cost us, new?" asked Tucker the Second.

The ELH officer shrugged. "Somewhere around eight hundred thousand?"

Thomas Klering began choking and spitting on thin air. "What?!"

"Mechs of all types are expensive," the ELH officer mused. "We would probably be only three hundred fifty k down the hole if we just gave you a tank or something."

"What is wrong with you people? Are you just that rich?"

"Sir, we are the SLDF."


-.
-.

Pascagoula
Federated Suns
Date unknown


'Oh Blessed Blake, please intercede for a miracle. May my body spontaneously transmute into nitroglycerin that I might erase the universe of this sacrilege.' Rocco Ali silently prayed.

"I'm diggin' a hole, diggy diggy hole. Diggy diggy hoole. Digging a hole~!"

Two Ruralmechs fitted out with backhoes instead of salvage arms were digging a trench that would eventually be part of a rebuilt sewer and water purification system. The ancient first-settlement-era systems had already collapsed over the centuries and were buried under so much sand, enough that redirecting the flow around the damaged sections towards the filtration plant would be significantly simpler and faster.

William Launder was, of course, singing that stupid song he managed to overhear from the ELH channels at some point. "You are not a dwarf," said Rocco Ali.

"You're no poncy elf, either. Only oh momma Jadwiga is pretty enough for that!" Launder responded through the radio. Then he went back to whistling and singing "I'm a working on the railroad, all the live-long daay~"

When the Eridani Light Horse said they were sending people out into the Outback to build things, they were being completely literal. At some point, Rocco Ali would have to accept that the Eridani Light Horse meant everything with deadly seriousness. But, as his mind recoiled, half of what they said was complete nonsense.

Reviving the SLDF? Unless they planned on fighting everybody everywhere all at once, that was an impossible dream and this cult-like behavior would only shatter and collapse on them as reality proved them wrong.

Said the agent from Comstar ROM inside his head.

He sighed. Damn if these civilianized Urbanmechs were nothing if not well-built though. Normally having the backhoe right up front in the middle would block the view and prevent the driver from seeing what they were digging. The Ruralmech had an extensive camera system filling up its roomy cockpit. More than that however, it had a completely passive optical periscoping system for viewing blocked angles. The machine was a mix of redundancies both hightech and lowtech.

He closed his eyes and remembered how he got to this point:

-.
-.

Two weeks ago

It was not unusual for a DroST to be new. The design has clones and variants in the civilian sector. Someone refitting one back into military service instead of a Leopard variant was… fine. A new JumpShip however-

"This is blasphemy," he muttered under his breath, seeing the Eridani Light Horse logo superimposed over the Cameron Star of the Star League.

"Seems pretty normal for the course," mentioned William Launder.

"One. Why are you still hanging around with me? I am not your friend. Two. Explain, idiot."

"I am from the Periphery, you know? We don't consider the Star League to the same sacred heights you folks in the Inner Sphere do. Hmf. A bunch of prideful ponies sounds just about right."

"I am going to punch you now."

"Violence between blood brothers is forbideeeeeen!" the bronzed mechwarrior screamed as he swam in zero-g, pushing and bumping into others ahead. Annoyed 'hey!'s followed, until stopped with a sudden thump as he was face-slammed into the bulkhead. Jadwiga Winter drifted back.

The woman glanced back and people raised approving thumbs up at her. Look at the lance leader enforcing discipline. Good job.

-.

Everything in the JumpShip was new. There were areas that they were not allowed to enter, of course. The berths were clean and the 90-meter grav deck could accommodate everyone. There were enough beds to accommodate 150 people.

The ship had a bunch of robots. They were strange and oddly sassy. Robots were not lostech however. A Scout was small enough that it could be effectively crewed by just five people. Animatronics for entertainment and servile roles were still used in some high-class functions and parts back on Terra. It was a waste of time and volume for a robot to act like a bartender instead of a vending machine dispensing mixed drinks, but looked significantly more interesting.

Someone had decided to give the automatic functions some real-world interface out of… boredom, he guessed?

-.

Normally it should take two months to reach the outback region that just happened to border upon the Federated Suns, Draconis Combine and the Outworld Alliance. The recruits had to go back to their dropships in preparation for the jump, and they were confined to their quarters in the windowless holds.

After the jump, the dropships detached. Rocco Ali felt the orienting maneuvers in zero-g, and the DroST IIA thrusted at half-a-gee for about half an hour before flipping backwards to zero its relative velocity and hook up to another JumpShip.

Instead of waiting another week, if there just happened to be another ship heading along the way, then a dropship could travel a distance much sooner than expected from a single ship that needs to recharge.

The dropship clutched into a new collar, and was brought along in a jump.

That was sixty light-years traveled almost immediately, two jumps out of the expected eight.

But still they were not done. The dropship detached again, maneuvered again, and clamped onto another jumpship that for some convenient reason, was already ready to jump.

And then again.

That was four jumps out of eight and halfway there, in the span of a day.

Then they were allowed back into the JumpShip. The layout and the robots were identical. He and the others tried to look for any markings they left, but it was a different ship with a different crew.

So - a coincidence. Or Davion thought this was important enough to set up a command circuit and wasting valuable time for jumpships just to wait around in place in advance. Or, because Scouts unlike other jumpships can thrust at .2g by themselves, it could have been some shell game to hide the fact that these JumpShips had Lithium Fusion Batteries enabling them to jump twice in succession?

They spent a week in space just idling along and working the simulators, before again being moved to their dropships.

Another jump, five of eight.

Switch to another ship, jump, six of eight.

This time they docked to a common Invader-class JumpShip, and going from the pristine white walls of the Scout II to an old rustbucket was piquant. There were smells that he had not realized he had grown used to from space travel, that were absent in the environmental controls of a new-build. Their reintroduction was almost enough to make them gag.

Going from a 90-meter diameter gravdeck to a 65-meter one felt confining and the amusements in the old machine were starkly limited. Sleeping in zero-g, exercising daily to keep up muscle mass, everything other than passage had to be paid for, and old holos and tepid drinks and games of cards and dice made the week pass by agonizingly slowly.

The dropship detached after the jump and latched onto another ship. Seven of eight. That ship jumped again almost immediately. Eight of eight.

They were allowed to get back inside the ship for some refreshments before burning towards De Berry. They were once again inside an ELH Scout II JumpShip. The contrast between the old and the new felt like coming home.

-.

Rocco Ali grit his teeth. This ship, he had to admit through rising anger and terror, was optimized for long-duration cruising. This was a new build for a group that knew what they were doing. Destroying the Eridani Light Horse for their blasphemous delusion would not solve the problem - it was their backers and what they would do next that was the question.

Could they really have been reactivated by Kerensky's SLDF?

There was another thing that needled him. Everything about the ELH's space navy was painted flat matte white. Comstar white.

Until he had an idea of where the Eridani Light Horse was getting all this gear, it was best to just play along.

-.
-.

Now

Which brought him back to the sweltering heat of Pascagoula. Or rather, the cool air-conditioning of a Ruralmech. A fusion power plant and its heatsinks was just overkill for this.

Why a fusion powered industrial mech? Because, he guessed, it was a waste of cargo to carry petrochemicals across interstellar space when landing on a fresh untapped world. Build the petrochemical industry *first* before trying to cheap out on ICE-powered vehicles.

This technology revealed much about an expeditionary philosophy, and the Eridani Light Horse did not even care. It was clear they wanted this information to get out. And because of that, Rocco Ali had to consider that his conclusions were wrong and being deliberately aimed.

But then what would be the alternative?

He looked back to the other members of the lance. Jadwiga Winter and Orsino Buana were weaving together steel rebar. Ferrocrete, the standard material for construction in the Inner Sphere, resilient enough to withstand landings by multi-thousand-ton dropships and being jumped upon by BattleMechs, was more than just reinforced concrete. It was rebar and fiber-reinforced concrete.

The Ruralmech's 5-ton rear storage could accommodate a mixer and the liquid sprayer could be used to squirt shotcrete as easily as it could spit out water or paint.

He had to put aside thoughts of sabotage or assassination for now. Everyone too was playing along, playing lip service to that whole 'we are the SLDF' fantasy until they could know more.

"I'm a barbie girl, in a barbie wooorld~!" Launder continued to sing. "Life in plastic, it's fantastic~!"

Rocco Ali grit his teeth again. For a given value of playing along.

 

[bluepencil]

The Fool's Bargain

Declan II
Federated Suns
Date Unknown

"Hance Davion, I have come to bargain!"

Nathan Armstrong voice came from behind the door just moments before it slammed opened. The man inside jerked back in surprise, moved to hide what he was reading, reconsidered, then turned towards the door with a deeply unimpressed stare.

Therapist-bot entered the room, its chest a video screen showing Nathan Armstrong's face relayed real-time through HPG.

"Really? You could not do this with the actual Hanse Davion? You take advantage of my weakness, sir!" spoke the doppelganger.

"Salutations, Hans II Davion."

"In many ways, are you not better off than Hanse Davion? You are freer in many ways than the burden of rulership. Many would find that power and authority attractive and worth killing over, but you know that with Michael Hasek-Davion conspiring with Mad Max, you would have only lasted long enough to torpedo Steiner-Davion relations before being conveniently killed off so that Michael could assume rulership of the Federated Suns. We have bargained for your life, now it is up to you to do something with it instead of wasting it in obscurity."

Dupli Hanse threw the book at him. "And that is why you were having me read all these isekai reincarnation novels! To make me comfortable with having lost all my previous life and be comfortable inside someone's skin! What kind of blatant and deranged emotional manipulation is this?!"

Therapist-bot spoke: "You were violated in both body and mind. But even if you were a victim in the machinations of politics, victimhood is not your fate. Own it and make it your own power."

Dupli-Hanse cooly replied: "I am grateful enough that I was not just killed off for convenience, but now what does the Eridani Light Horse wish to do with me? A gilded cage is still a cage, and an unpaid prisoner of war is just a step removed from being a slave."

"You can do all the things that Hanse Davion can't get away with," said Armstrong. "Why don't we go for a run? Whoever loses must fulfill a minor request of the victor."

"Indeed. Physical activity helps break out of cycles of depression."

The doppelganger sighed. "Fine."

-.

The site upon which the Eridani Light Horse built their main base was in the middle of some idyllic green rolling hills. There were forests. There were cliffs. There were seas.

There was this giant country-sized beam lashing down from space reshaping the land.

The base itself looked normal enough, composed of ferrocrete and other prefab structures. For strength a lot of it was made of geodesic domes. The capital of Declan II would now be Mobius City. Dupli-Hance didn't take long to realize why.

The rocks were stained in a checkerboard pattern. Roads banked into the cliffsides. The loops on the horizon in this Green Hills Zone were just the most obvious symbols of how much of this was sculpted and not by human hands.

"It would be much safer for all of you if I never left this planet ever again," he sighed. "Why do you do this?"

"It would be a waste of potential," replied Armstrong. "You could just spend the rest of your life in safe obscurity, but will that fix the life stolen from you? Others can take vengeance for you, but will that be enough to bring you closure? Will you be happy just having your life continually be decided for you?"

"And what you are doing now, is not?! Being in the military is exactly having your life decided for you on all levels, you crazy horses!"

"You are now a Hanse Davion," replied Therapist-Bot. "Denying your own personhood would lead to life-long struggle and potentially unhealthy coping mechanisms."

"You don't even see me! You are the ones denying my personhood! What you want is Hanse Davion?"

"Do you even see *you* when you look into the mirror? Which would feel worse to you - just being some no-name lackey surgically altered into a death conspiracy, or being actually Hanse Davion in all the ways that Hanse Davion cannot Hanse? That twisty brainwashing in your head will keep insisting the rest of your life that you have to be Hanse Davion or you're nothing." Armstrong on the screen shrugged. "So why not be Hanse Davion *on your own terms* instead."

"You were programmed to act a Hanse Davion as far as Liao could imagine nobles to act - outwardly charming, but arrogant and narcissistic, demanding complete obedience. That is Worst Hanse, and instead of trying to fight against that programming, rebuke it by living a healthier, happier, more exciting and more fulfilling life than any other Hanse Davion. You deserve better than to be mediocre."

"This is insane. I can't - no. I don't even know anything about psychology but this has to be the worst way to deal with trauma that I can see." With a scowl he added "Apart from drugs and alcohol and things of that nature, I mean."

"Would you like to wear a white mask?" asked Therapist-Bot.

The robot played a strangely catchy tune.

"You may live in the shadow of his soul, but there's nothing that says you can be greater than some REMF sitting on his throne."

"... I am insulted on Hanse Davion's behalf."

They had by this time arrived at the hangars.

Therapist Bot stated: "Hanse Davion will never be allowed to be a test pilot."

Dupli Hanse looked up with narrowed unamused eyes at the experimental units. "They're all still Urbanmechs."

-.

Dupli Hanse secured the seatbelts and nodded. The Super Urbanmech had a blue and white paint scheme, with a line of white and red vertically down one side of the mech, much like Hanse Davion's own Battlemaster.

"Thank you, Charlie. I'll be fine on my own from here on. Maybe I'll see you later."

"W-whatever you wish, my Prince," the female engineer beamed as the platform retracted.

Armstrong spoke through the radio: "Hans Prince. Handsome Prince. Don't you go around breaking young girl's hearts."

"This is the face I was given and you all say I might as well accept all that it gives me," said the man with an eerie resemblance to a young James Tiberius Kirk.

The other Super Urbanmech was painted a flat wine red. The two mechs unlatched from their bays and began to walk out of the hangar. Therapist-Bot sat in the other cockpit, but only had a hardline connection to the DroneOS systems. With real-time HPG reciprocal connection, Nathan Armstrong could pilot remotely from an entirely different planet away just as easily as his Drone Command Console would control the virtual mech inside the simulation pod.

Dupli Hanse knew enough that this was supposed to be impossible.

Then again, as the two mechs began to run, so were many things.

The speedometer for an Urbanmech was calibrated to have a max speed of around 60 kph, and its actual top speed of 32kph halfway and highest point on that dial. "Slow" and "Less Slow". Even an Assault Mech which had a top speed of around 54 kph usually had more on the gauge. While the HUD of a neurohelmet had digital readouts, it was easiest for pilots to understand a proportional gauge that went up and down depending on their mech's movement.

The world began to blur past. Everything else started to fall away. There was no time to think, no room for hesitation. His problems just melted away. There was only speed.

Even most Light Mech scouts had gauges that topped out at 150 kph.

The Super Urbanmech's feet were a blur, chewing into the soil. They had passed that speed reading only 30 seconds after leaving the hangars.

The Super Urbanmech custom's speed readout did not top out at 150, or 200, or even 300.

Slamslamslamslam~

The Super Urbanmechs were traveling so fast that they had to run vertically on hardened walls just to turn. They had already passed 170 kph, which was a speed no sane BattleMech ever tried, much less an Urbanmech.

Extra ExtraLight engines. Extra Light Gyro. Endo Steel construction. An absolutely massive 390-rated Engine that ate up all room in the torso forcing the pilot to squeeze into a Small Cockpit.

Up ahead, the terrain inexplicably had turned into a huge loop like on a roller coaster, but on flat highway-grade land.

Dupli Hanse bared his teeth in a grin and accelerated. 200. 250 kph.

In complete defiance of gravity, the blue Super Urbanmech ran up the ramp, went completely upside down, and completed the loop out the other side - no sweat. Right now, in Declan, a Hanse Davion was the fastest thing alive.

Next were a series of three loops. He engaged the afterburners and MASC on the machine.

300. 350 kph.

Would Hanse Davion ever feel so alive?

Not even aircraft could compare to this, he mused. The neurohelmet fed back to him the sheer purposeful violence of his movement, every twitch of an artificial muscle myomers, the feel of air starting to thicken in front of him.

Swoop.

Swoop.

Swoop.

Now running at a quarter of the speed of sound.

He heard a muffled crunch. While upside down he glimpsed something failing to exit the loop cleanly, and had turned from something running into a disintegrating bullet scraping and tumbling across the countryside.

He kicked off, toggled his Jump Jets, and worked hard to bleed off momentum. Even so, the Urbanmech landed roughly and he had to keep running for a while longer into a broad turn just to head back the way he came.

He found the red Urbanmech as little more than a dented and torn egg, quadruply amputated.

"... What was I so worried about?!" he exhaled roughly and groused. "You were piloting this thing remotely. I had forgotten." A bit of lag was inexcusable when running at completely improbable speed for any Battlemech, much less an Urbanmech.

And yet, for the slightest mistake, this could have been his fate.

Hanse Davion would never be allowed to experience this.

"This unit is in distress. Help. Help." said Therapist Bot.

Dupli Hanse sighed. Even if it was just a robot, he did have some attachment to the oddly sassy counseling bot. "All right. Hang in there, my metal freud. I'm calling for recovery."

"Someone is making stupid dad jokes and this unit cannot make them stop. Help. Help. Save me."

-.
-.

Colchester
Federated Suns
Date Unknown


Petersen thought that if the whole point of having Kerensky was to rob the mystique off Wolf's Dragoons and let the Eridani Light Horse have confidence they can beat the Dragoons the next time they meet, this was entirely the wrong way to go with it.

There was a duelist-sized hole in the Eridani Light Horse. Kerensky's presence has turned the horses from a cooperative herd into a bunch of feral wild tarpans.

Petersen set out to privately question Kerensky at a convenient time. Kerensky herself was standoffish and uncooperative, completely uninterested in making any attachment. Fair enough, Petersen thought, they would have to try to kill each other for real again after three months. However, through weeks of observation, one strange thing emerged.

He set out on a small militarized pickup truck towards the training fields and found there a group of Mechs still drilling. It was already night well past nine, and still they were training.

It was a black 70-ton Heavy Urbanmech being followed by six pea-green 30-ton Urbanmechs. Whatever Petersen had been expecting to find with Natasha Kerensky, it was not a mother goose leading her goslings.

As the large Urbanmech swiveled to turn its baleful cyclopean amber gaze towards the approaching car, Petersen realized that peace with Kerensky had never been an option.

-.
-.

"Smoke? Vodka?" Petersen held up one in each hand.

"Neither." Then, belatedly as if remembering that she was a human being and had to express politeness "Thank you. No need to butter me up. It's bright enough to see your bars, sir. I hope you don't expect me to salute." She leaned against a lamppost and crossed her arms. "Now what does the Regimental Commander of the 71st want from me?"

"Hmm." Petersen put down the bottle and broke open the pack of cigarettes. He took one out and lit one up. He noticed that Kerensky scowled at his choice. "You… look like you disapprove."

"Throat and lung cancer is not a warrior's death," said Natasha Kerensky. "I have forbidden that amongst all vices from my trainees."

"That's fair. A filthy habit that somehow even a thousand years away from Terra, we're still doing it. Soldiers do like to find ways of dying even faster. Or maybe this is just how we take comfort in our mortality?" He puffed out and then suddenly jammed the cigarette into the side of the truck. "So I suppose I just have to ask - is your way actually right? Has someone beaten you yet in training?"

Natasha Kerensky bared her teeth and laughed a hollow laugh. "Do not tell me you're also buying into all that publicity and rumor. Of course I have. Many times. Even in the Dragoons, I am hardly untouchable. That is what training is for! Get beaten down, and stand up again. Sweat on the training fields saves blood on the battlefield. There is no failure in training, only hints towards improvement. Perfection is the enemy! If you ever feel like there is no longer anything more you can do to improve, then that is the moment you assure your own death. Your general's demands for OPFOR requires that we all know both how to win and lose."

She shrugged. "In war, the only victory is survival, Colonel! You should know that much."

"Surely there isn't much difference though? The herd and the pack both require cooperative effort. In the end, aren't we all too old and stuck in our ways? All of this is just adding some more tricks and traps into our toolbox without refusing to move from our preferred doctrine."

Kerensky only tapped her boots impatiently. She looked off to the distance, just blanking out the officer's rambling.

Petersen let out a small 'heh'. "All right then. I'll get to the point. Even with High Command asking for you to show special dispensation to some utter rookies in their first year as cadets, you are spending too much of your own time trying to get them to soak up your teachings."

Kerensky looked up. She smirked. "So - it wasn't me that you were curious about after all."

Petersen gestured to the open field. "Perhaps it is true that only an empty vessel can be filled? Perhaps that is all you are looking for - a synthesis between your way and our way that can be tested in the future."

Then with a voice completely flat and devoid of emotion "Or… did you figure out yet why for some reason Eridani High Command is so biased towards Devlin Stone? You are also noticeably biased towards these children and I don't know why."

"Can't I just find these kids cute and want to play with them? No?" The woman shrugged. "The boy is odd and unnatural, but nothing all that special. These kids-"

Sploosh.

Sploosh.

The light of the lamppost was bright enough to show how Natasha Kerensky was covered in bright hot neon pink paint. In the gloom just right outside of the light cone, Devlin Stone and Bennet Brooklyn held empty paint cans. Tom Robinson stood by nervously.

"These kids are dead meat," Natasha said simply.

"Vengeance for Little Tom!" Devlin roared.

"Yeah, take that, you red witch!" Bennet yelled as well.

Devlin and Bennet grabbed Tom from either side and hauled him off.

"That little random gene mistake SON OF A BITCH!" Kerensky turned around.

"I never knew my motheeerrr-!" Devlin answered even as they skedaddled.

"I am an unwilling participaaant!" Tom wailed.


-.
-.

As a rule, drill instructors are not actually allowed to harmfully touch their recruits. It was an incompetent one that had to resort to brutality in order to enforce their authority. By the same token, cadets attacking their instructor were due for a court martial.

The rules were somewhat vague on pranks.

So when the doors to the infirmary were kicked open at just before midnight, the night shift saw a pink splattered Kerensky dragging three teenage boys all tied up and gagged like they were tires being dragged for physical training in old urban martial arts movies, the staff's only thought was 'Where did she find the tar and feathers?'

Kerensky coldly stopped by the reception desk and said "I need you to check these brats for lead poisoning."

"Uh. Yes. All right. But why?"

"Because they are being morons more than the usual."

"... Fair enough." The reception desk rang for an orderly. "Ma'am, we can prepare anodyne solvents for you too. We can set aside a private bath."

"I'm visiting," said Kerensky.

"It is past visiting hours, but…" the receptionist glanced towards the three teens, still silent and shaking with terror "I think we can make an exception."

Kerensky turned sharply at hearing a giggle from one of the medics on station. "What?" she asked. "You find this funny? Are you getting comfortable now?"

She turned back to the receptionist and spoke in a drill sergeant voice designed to carry without shouting. "Ponies, we are not friends. The next time we meet in battle, I will still do my best to kill the one in front of me. Do not let the mischief of these children make you forget that they are all still enemies." She reached out and pressed a fingernail to the fleshy part of the receptionist's chin and forced her to look up. "Do not make any mistake that I have developed any fondness that would have me grant you any mercy."

The receptionist stared into Kerensky's burning gaze and blushed. "Y-yes, my Queen," she breathed.

Natasha Kerensky squinted.

-.
-.

Colin MacLaren sat up as far as he could rise to attention when Natasha Kerensky entered the room. "My Lady!" he cried out in pleasant surprise. "Are you well? You are… pink?"

Keresky held up an open palm. He silenced immediately. "First - these ponies are insane and I need to get the hell out of here. Second - it is midnight. Why are you still awake?"

Colin MacLaren's look implied 'wait, so you were just going to come here and watch me sleep?' The injured mechwarrior then gestured to the papers and noteputers on the small lap desk. "It is only at night that it is silent enough to work. In some way, as you work upon the Light Horse, I too wish to earn my keep."

"Are those what I think they are?"

"Yes, My Lady. I have been grading essays, yes."

Natasha Kerensky went over to sit beside him, and sagged on the chair. "These ponies are insane and I need to get the hell out of here."

But, she supposed, even if Jaime Wolf tried to get ELH prisoners of his own too and did something like seize an entire regiment, she had already given her word and there were still two more months until her parole was done. She was a Wolf. She would never be a Horse. This was just a chore she had to endure until she could feel alive again on the battlefield.

McLaren stared at her and with a thin smile said gently "These ponies are dangerous."


-.
-.

Two days later, Wolf's Dragoons invaded Harrow's Sun with three regiments and the DCMS fell upon Galtor with six regiments in just the first wave.

The last great clash of powers that would close out the Third Succession Wars.

 

[bluepencil]

The Fools Bargain 02

Galtor III
Draconis March
Federated Suns
08 May, 3025

The third world of Galtor was settled by Irish and Chinese colonizers in successive waves of colonists that each thought they had been given an exclusive claim. Within ten years of their arrival on the world their populations competed with each other, eventually escalating into all-out war. Although they only had a few tanks and an artillery piece or two, the damage wreaked was terrible. A breakout of a plague - a constant fear on new worlds with limited medical resources and research on how alien worlds might mutate old diseases - forced the two groups to sign an armistice to combat the sickness together. This eventually developed into the Webster Compact that paved the way for both sides no longer considering themselves Irish or Orientals and just Galtorians.

In the centuries that followed, Galtor became a peaceful and prosperous world that served as a breadbasket for surrounding worlds. This sleepy planet was left mostly untouched by the Age of War, and at the rise of the Star League the world became host to a major SLDF presence on the planet. Soon enough the military became its largest customer, and Galtor fed nearly a billion soldiers over a thousand worlds.

Then the Star League collapsed. When the SLDF abandoned Galtor to follow Kerensky, the world got its first taste of true hardship. Refugees flooded into the world even as trade dried but, but for the most part war was something that happened elsewhere in space. When Kurita made their great assault against Davion worlds, the ancestors of Galtor III made little resistance. Life under the Draconis Combine was grim and sullen, with quotas and manual fieldwork replacing automated farm machinery. Anyone that showed any hesitation were immediately punished, any complaint made people disappear. For a hundred years, Galtor languished in malaise, and the structure of the world fell apart under the management of occupying soldiers and administrators. A world that once fed thousands now struggled to feed itself.

For a hundred years, Galtor remained under the grip of the Combine. The Dragon and the Suns warred around Kentares IV, Mallory's World and Harrow's Sun while Galtor was ignored as a former Davion world. It would not be until 3022 when under Hanse Davion's command the Federated Suns managed to capture the world in a bloody campaign that saw one-third of the population losing their lives.

And yet even so, Galtor would much prefer to be in Davion hands.

But their freedom was uneasy and their world was still shattered. They knew that a return to Combine hands would come with brutal and unrelenting punishment.

When Hanse Davion ordered a survey of all the worlds captured in the past few years, records in New Avalon indicated that Galtor III would have an unusually rich deposit of priceless and irreplaceable parts and equipment dating back to the Star League.

The depot set into a small hill was turned out to be long ransacked, and was by design not a very defensible position. The local defenders - elements of Draconis March (Dahar DMM) militia and the Raman DMM, the native Galtor Irregulars and mercenary BattleMechs of the Lone Wolves - were not aware that the site was fake.

The plan as communicated to the parties was for two strong regiments to lie in wait in Galtor to trap any raiding party and then destroy them in a series of short, swift and decisive thrusts. The AFFS' 33rd Avalon Hussars and the mercenary 12th Vegan Rangers were originally slated for this purpose. Their high command was aware of the true nature of the trap.

But immediately all that could go wrong, did.

Two battalions of the 33rd Avalon Hussars regiment still languished in their barracks on Kestrel because a lack of dropship parts prevented them from moving the entire regiment.

The Union dropship Jasper exploded on liftoff at Marduk, destroying two companies of the Dahar DMM, and the repair and landing facilities of the spaceport were heavily damaged. This was suspected to be the work of Kurita guerillas.

Kurita raids intensified across the border, stressing the Raman DMM, a green force that had to defend a large section of the frontier. This seemed to be a punitive response to their loss of an entire regiment on Tripoli. The Dragon, wounded, bared its fangs to remind others that it was not weak.

Suddenly, the night sky burst open and a wash of electromagnetic waves from a nearby K-F emergence filled the sensor web.

A Monolith-class JumpShip and six Scout jumpships arrived with impossible precision on the Pirate Point between the world and its host star. Any overlap in their drive fields would lead to a fatal misjump.

"PEOPLE OF GALTOR. DO NOT BE ALARMED," the broad frequency signal announced. "OUR INTENTIONS ARE PEACEFUL. WE ARE THE ERIDANI LIGHT HORSE."

-.

Margrave Sheridan Douglass, leader of the Alpha Regiment of the 12th Vegan Rangers, did not have an overly romantic view of the Eridani Light Horse. The Rangers had served Davion for centuries while refusing offers to join the regular military. Unlike the Steiners, where it made sense not to be under the total control of social generals, the Rangers held onto their independence and made the Federated Suns pay a premium for their continued loyalty.

No mercenary regiment would easily accept that someone else would be 'the best' in their field, and despite the ELH's posturing they were just yet another mercenary unit to him. He considered his own heavyweight regiment to be a fair match to anything.

After verifying that the new arrivals were who they said they were, and that their intentions really were peaceful, they were given clearance to approach and land.

The ELH went down like an invasion force.

The 22nd Special Air squadron rose to meet them.

Colonel Sirius Golen, commander of the 22nd Special Air Squadron, had this to say:

"Galtor III was the first mission of the 22nd. We had a lot to prove and we would have to die trying. We were actually three squadrons - Parker's Squadron, Hunt's Squadron, and Morgan's Squadron. Every competent regiment had at least a squadron of ASF to push through contested orbitals. I sent Parker and Hunt to 'welcome' our new mercenary friends to Galtor.

"Now, the backbone of the 22nd was our STU-K5 Stuka Heavy Fighters. While we were a new unit, but we were made out of veterans of combat and we were all expected to fight even outnumbered by the Combine."

A Heavy 100-ton fighter, armed with 4 Large Lasers, 3 Medium Lasers, an LRM-20, a SRM-6, and 15 tons of protection - a group of Stukas could blow almost anything out of orbit. Their only weakness was their relatively low amount of fuel - 4 tons. The long narrow cigar-shaped fuselage with canards near the cockpit and a wide ogive wing at the rear was characteristic of both this craft or a smaller Lightning fighter, which could prove to be a deadly mistake.

"Parker reported to me later that seeing the ELH move out with their DroST pocket warships at the head - he didn't understand why, but his instincts were already screaming at him not to do something stupid."

Four DroST IIA assault dropships forged the way, and the 22nd's heavy ASFs, primarily Stukas, were momentarily caught aback by a formation that eschewed skirmishing in favor of a brute wall of steel and guns. The diamond formation meant that the dropships covered each other's firing arcs.

A squadron was typically six fighters. Three squadrons in total were 18 fighters. The 22nd only had half their number in heavy fighters, but assume they had 18 Stukas. That's 72 Large Lasers and 18 LRM-20s across 1800 tons of fightercraft.

A single DroST was 5,300 tons by itself.

Unlike a Stuka's four to six tons of internal fuel capacity, it could carry hundreds of tons of fuel. Therefore, paradoxically, while a DropShip was usually considered a slow and fast target, a Drost that boosts at 2.5 to 4 gravities could easily outrun its pursuing craft, punch through a defensive screen, and with all-around turret coverage didn't need to outmaneuver its opponents..

Even the 22nd Special Air Squadron had to reconsider when it looked like something twice their numbers were bearing down on them, with the danger of assault dropships shooting them in the back while skirmishing against other fighters.

"Each of those Pocket Warships was escorted by four ASFs… they looked like Stukas too, but something about them felt… wrong, somehow. Parker and Hunt could tell the difference between dedicated heavy escorts and the other smaller dogfighting fightercraft around the other dropships." Sirius Golen mentioned later in an interview. "Kurita would find out the hard way later why ELH aircraft left this impression of cold mechanical fearlessness in their flying."

The groups buzzed and flew past each other.

The 12th Vegan Rangers were supposed to sit in the shadow of the world, waiting in their dropships ready to smash into the unprotected rear and landing sites of attackers, trapping them on the planet. However, as they were well fore-warned that friendlies were coming, it was better not to pull that surprise early or it might get leaked.

The ELH had a mix of transport and assault dropships, two Drost-II's remained in orbit to defend against space assaults even as the regiment passed the boundary. This was a grim preview of what the Draconis Combine might bring to the invasion, but now at least they had the numbers to fight the Dragon one on one.

Whole companies of Jump-capable mechs landed as a scouting party ahead of the landings. The sky above the drop site glittered with falling stars.

The 782d Davion Guard Auxiliary defended the site. They were an infantry force utterly lacking any BattleMechs or Heavy Combat Vehicles. Instead they sat behind eight layers of minefields and Sniper Artillery Pieces. The 33rd Hussars had Long Toms in their fortified and camouflage based camp. Spotters were ready to roll.

The 33rd Avalon Hussars' base camp only received a directional radio message on all bands. I SEE YOU.

Sheridan Douglass frowned and turned to see Lt. General Wilson Mandella's sweaty indignation. The AFFS officer clearly saw this as an insult and a threat to his authority.

The DropShips landed six kilometers from the site, southwest and northeast, and swiftly disgorged their mechs and vehicles. Heavy towed Long Tom Artillery and lighter wheeled Thumper Artillery pieces for counter-battery fire trundled out, and VTOLs climbed to provide scouting support and artillery fire direction.

The defenders of the Star League depot hesitated to fire their artillery training rounds. While this scheduled wargame was supposed to identify any weakness in the position, firing too early would expose their position.

Kurita would not have brought artillery. They wanted to capture the depot intact, no?

The Eridani Light Horse began to set up fortified positions easily visible from the air.

The scouts of the planetary defenders could only make verbal reports about what they were seeing, fortunately not yet disrupted by the usual Kuritan habit of EMP airbursts preceding an invasion. They lacked integrated datalinks.

Then those scouts suddenly let out panicked outbursts as mechs landed nearby. With a sigh they reported that they had been found and "captured".

The Eridani Light Horse did not bombard the 33rd's base camp. That would have exposed the location of their artillery. Instead, a dense group of flyers passed over the site, and the second-line ASFs that met them reported with a confused tone, that "what the flipping hell are a bunch of flying saucers doing over here?"

From emergence to landfall, it was four hours of a nearly uncontested landing in force.

-.

Davion wanted to hold on to Galtor III mainly to shield Marduk but also for Galtor Naval Yards. The AFFS liked to build underwater command posts that were protected from the early bombardment and disruption of command facilities in a full-scale planetary invasion. Ironically however, because Galtor had only been back in Davion hands for three years - Galtor didn't have any of those protected underwater command facilities.
Putting facilities on Galtor's underwater submarine pens would incentivize the enemy to wreck the yards, which would be foolish considering how the yards had managed to survive three hundred years intact.

The Grand Duchy of Galtor was headed by Governor Skyles O'Hanlon, appointed by Prince Hanse Davion. However, he had no power over the military defense. The Galtor Irregulars, formed of the guerillas and saboteurs that fought on Galtor ahead of the Davion offensive, were commanded by a Committee of Four, and likewise through them they employed the mercenary Lone Wolves. They were centered mainly around New Derry.

The Draconis March Militias defended the major cities of the planet and were given leave to do so on their own initiative.

Command therefore centered on Lt. General Mandella and the 33rd Avalon Hussars base on Wagnall Plain. Parts of the base, specifically the airfields, dropship landing zones, and storage depots, were visible from the air. Other parts, such as the command posts, were more mobile. Other portions were sheltered and camouflaged some distance away from obvious bombing targets, such as the artillery and communication parks.

A Drost II painted in flat Eridani green landed.

The craft disgorged the ELH regimental staff. Margrave Sheridan Douglass went out with Lt. General Mandella to meet them at the tarmac.

Douglass raised a curious eyebrow at the regimental bodyguard Mechs. His first thought was 'Urbanmech' but obviously they were far too large. 'Flashman', then? But they had humanoid legs instead of reverse-jointed chicken walker legs.

The ELH commander approached and saluted. "Ah! Lieutenant General Mandella and Margrave Douglass, I presume? I am Brevet General Nathan Armstrong, and I lead the Eridani Light Horse. I bring with me the 91st Cavalry Regiment of the Eridani Light Horse. I apologize for the disruption, but there are some drastic new developments that require a drastic change in plans."

Mandela pushed forward and scowled against that ELH officer's gentle smile. "This is an inexcusable breach in protocol. What is this grandstanding? It is brazen and unprofessional! Why are you doing so many things without even a by-your-leave? I am in command here!"

The other person shook his head slowly. "I am sorry, General. But you are not. I am Robert Green-Davion, official mercenary liaison to the Eridani Light Horse. By order of Hanse Davion, First Prince of the Federated Suns, the Eridani Light Horse are now assuming command of the defense of this world in the event of a Kuritan attack." He held out a datapad. "Verigraphed and signed orders here."

"What? Inconceivable!"

The general shakily snapped the datapad off Green-Davion's hands. He read through the orders and Douglass could see him tempted to accuse the mercenary general of lying, versus the reputation and lack of reason for the Light Horse to falsify orders. "This is highly irregular and I protest. You are mercenaries! You should not be commanding regular troops - and multiple regiments of the Federated Suns at that!"

Armstrong hummed. "The Light Horse are, right now, operating something like… Hanse Davion's personal beatstick. Kurita *will* attack Galtor. Not just because of the rumors of a Star League cache, but because *we* are here. Even Takashi Kurita knows that if they don't face us in Galtor, they will have to face us *in Irurzun*. The Light Horse being here is the strongest support for the site actually being a legitimately high-value target."

'Beatstick?' Green-Davion mouthed and glanced aside. A curious word, but not difficult to understand.

Douglass nodded. Few regiments could claim battle with another regiment one on one and then prove themselves able to completely wipe out the other with only minimal losses. The Eridani Light Horse did this *three times* before half the year was even out. He could understand how much that must rankle the DCMS. They could never endure any humiliation.

So they *must* face the Eridani Light Horse and wipe away the shame of those defeats.

Mandella grimaced. By comparison, while the 33rd Avalon Hussars wore the name that distinguished itself centuries before the Eridani Light Horse even existed, their storied nature was much less… overcoming.

The 33rd was one of originally 60 Avalon Hussar Regiments. By the time of the First Succession Wars, there were only 15 regiments that stubbornly kept the name, and refused to train with BattleMechs as they were too slow and heavy. They were all completely decimated within 6 years.

By the Second Succession Wars, much humbled and happy to train with BattleMechs, New Avalon newly minted the 33rd New Avalon Hussars and marched them off to the House Liao Border.

They faced the Capellan Hussars of House Liao and were swiftly and resoundingly crushed to the point that only 10 percent of their Mechs survived. Only propaganda saved the regiment from total dissolution, and made it out that the defeat was actually a piece of valor fighting down to the last man.

The 33rd was known as the "regiment that just won't die" because at least two more times the regiment had in recent memory had faced the enemy and been almost completely wiped out. Their track record against House Kurita was not much better, though with the support of other units they suffered less damage. They were a veteran regiment with many heavy mechs, and often could win against the enemy in a straight fight. Their bad luck could not be explained away as simply incompetence or inexperience.

This mission personally ordered by the Prince was their chance to see if they could shed the hard luck of the unit.

"I will obey my orders, but still I must lodge a formal protest," Mandella continued. Douglass could tell from the almost teary rage in Mandella's eyes how much this rankled. An assault regiment should not keep on being hand-held by other veteran regiments. He was in command! This was his chance! And once again the chance to redeem the honor of the unit was taken away from him. "Never in the history of the AFFS has command been seconded to mercenaries!"

Armstrong beamed. "To your knowledge, no. But there have been multiple recorded instances of Davion command seconding to the SLDF."

Douglass sighed and resisted a groan. Not this shite again.

Armstrong turned and beckoned. "Come, come, let me show you something that will change your mind. This false site you were using as bait… may not be as useless as you might believe."

-.
-.

 

[bluepencil]

The Fools Bargain 03

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Wagnall Plain
Galtor II
Several hours later

But of course, they could not simply board a random DropShip to go to the Star League fake site right at that moment. Transport and malfunction problems dogged the AFFS regiments. The ELH conveniently just showed up with extra JumpShips and DropShips and offered them direct transportation.

The 33rd Avalon Hussars welcomed the arrival of Meade's Battalion and Lyon's Battalion, in the UnionDropShips Century City and Atlan, bringing them up to full regimental strength.

The Dahar Draconis March Militia had to welcome their own French's 3rd Battalion - or rather French's Company, since two companies were destroyed in a DropShip explosion. General Sir William Dobsonhad to deal with the loss and assigning these troops to reinforce his Regimental BattleGroup in defense of New Derry. The DMM had assigned Pope's Battalion under the command of the 33rd Avalon Hussars to reinforce their short regiment, but now that the 33rd was at full strength it was unknown if that would still be necessary and if Pope's battalion should make the long trip back to the planetary capital.

The Eridani Light Horse had a simpler sequence. Their regiment was four battalions to a regiment, and so they simply assigned two battalions for each landing site.

The first order of business was to offload and recombine defenders all over the planet.

Since Nathan Armstrong was now in overall command, he had to oversee these deployments within the holotable in the 33rd's command center. Moving overall command operations into the new ELH base - whichever of the two - was the sort of complication why surprise command authority handovers like these were so disliked in the first place.

The alternative however, would be for someone else to take over command facilities in your own army. The Davion staff accepted this without complaint, but there was a mood that this was just adding an extra inefficient step in the process.

"General Mandella, Margrave Douglass, if you will permit, we have something that can make this somewhat easier. If you would permit it?" Armstrong stopped and said after a while.

"You could just make it an order," Mandella snorted. "But all right." As much as the portly man disliked the situation, with grit teeth he would not be shaming himself by looking unprofessional under the eyes of two mercenaries.

"Please accept the transmission. Do not be alarmed."

The light in the command center flickered. All the screen buzzed, much to the alarm of their operators.

"Sir!" one of the sensor technicians yelped. "Receiving... an encrypted holovideo file?"

Mandella frowned, and gestured "Do it."

The holo over the table blinked out, and was replaced by a spinning logo of the Star League. The Cameron Star squeezed into itself, becoming a white eye.

"ONE. MAN. ARMY. CORPS." a synthetic voice announced. "FROM TERRA TO THE STARS. SHINES THE LIGHT OF THE STAR LEAGUE."

The holo expanded to show the entire continent of Eyrie, which contained a spine of mountains running across its west and vast plain much of the west, cut through by numerous rivers. Icons depicted moving objects both on the ground and near space. Small windows showed overhead real-time views of relevant military areas. "EVIDENCE. YIELD. EXECUTION. BROTHER. EYE. IS ONLINE. RELAYING STRATEGIC COMBAT LAYER."

"Impressive," said Douglass. "Did you bring your own sensor network? How is a sensor web like this protected from being intercepted or disrupted?"

He noticed that Green-Davion had also flinched in surprise. How it could it be the first time he was seeing this? Or perhaps he was just surprised that how quickly the program could authenticate itself past all the security encryptions of Davion computers?

Normally military transmissions were sent in the form of encrypted signals data. It was up to computers to integrate that with local data and update the battleplace. But a highly compressed media signal that somehow decrypted itself with the computers only doing minimal work could be presented as an extra self-updating layer over known map data.

This should be a waste of bandwidth and easily disrupted. You need actual hardware to accelerate decoding or else you were just sending information to your enemy. A translation layer that downloaded itself and sits on top of your output stream is something that without good reason might be called malware.

"BROTHER EYE is a cloud," answered Armstrong. "It cannot be blinded because its assets are a distributed system. The exact mechanism is too technical to explain right now, but it is designed to function passively and work through ECM interference. In fact, it needs to get in range of our ECM to know that it is transmitting to a friendly.

"We know that the first thing Kurita will do is to set off EMP bombs in the atmosphere to disrupt long-range communications. When they think they have accomplished that, then BROTHER EYE will reactivate a mixture of ground-based, low-level and orbital sensors."

The coverage though! That level of detail was too much for a passive system, unless -

The Davion officers blinked. Unless BROTHER EYE was *literally* in the clouds.

"General Armstrong - does this also mean you can listen into Kurita communications?" asked Green-Davion.

"Of course it does."

Green-Davion's face looked too perfectly calm and pleasant. Yes, that should be discomfiting, Douglass noted silently. If the Light Horse could pull this against Kurita, they should also be able to pull this against Davion. A reputation of being honorable only goes so far.

Gifts given too generously could be as much as a threat as a sign of affection.

"We have the eyes, but we don't have the enough men at arms." Armstrong continued, waving towards the map "Kurita will throw everything they can afford at us. What separates us from them… is intelligence."

"Tch. So is this lostech why Davion puts you in command?" Mandella groused. He had to wonder what would happen if he ever had to send his assault regiment to fight someone that had absolute awareness of his deployments. They would only ever be seen if they wanted to be seen.

"It is because the DCMS and its generals will be aching to claim glory against each other and we can drive them into wherever *we* want just by *existing* nearby. Right, Robert?"

Green-Davion nodded. "Unlike the Federated Suns, their generals directly compete against each other for glory and favor, instead of a shared common good. We are just lucky that for all their forces can be highly competent at times, their leaders far too selfish to look beyond their own faces."

"I understand." The Davion general pointed to the lines on the map. Having the ELH sit in two separate bases looked vulnerable... but wherever Kurita lands around the area, they were always in reach of artillery and being pincered from two or three directions. Mandella and the Avalon Hussars were some distance away from the site across the long but shallow Salt Lick River, but that was just good sense as you did not want your base to be right at the front lines. "So we have three regiments ready to pounce on the Dragon when they land?"

"Brother EYE will let us know where, when, how, and how soon. Brother EYE does not obsolete the use of Scouts, but as it is a secondary communications network it will help scouting forces deliver actionable intel almost immediately."

"Is this how you were able to win so consistently against Kurita?" asked Douglass. "I can see how valuable this would be. Is this something that can be reproduced, or must it be proprietary to the Light Horse?"

Armstrong looked up. "It will be available to the AFFS wherever the Light Horse fights, but for certain reasons to prevent being captured or reverse-engineered, sadly the system cannot be released for open use without certain stringent requirements. House Kurita is many things, but technologically backward and unwilling to technologically innovate is not one of them. The Combine's scientists might not be as good as NAIS, but if they know something is *possible*, they would be smart enough to try and make up their own equivalents and counters. It would be less effective and prone to being jammed or intercepted, but just its existence would make it harder for less electronically-savvy Federated Suns units."

"Then you should not have revealed it so soon," said Mandella. "Isn't it a waste to spend the advantage so early here instead of a more important campaign?"

"Actually, it seems better to make the most out of the advantage while you still can," Douglass demurred. "On the offense, *we* would have the initiative, so this would be less relevant. The enemy would have to react to our movements, instead of us having to wonder where the enemy has landed. Information is power not only when you have it, but when you deny it to the enemy. We have set up a grand trap, now all we need is for Kurita to fall into it."

Green-Davion, although of much lower rank than the generals standing around the holotable, responded with the official Davion policy on this. "This battle is expected to be perhaps the most significant event of the year. We expect House Kurita to attack on a broad front from the Raman to Dahar PDZs. Specifically, we expect focused assaults on Galtor, Marduk, New Aberdeen, and Harrow's Sun, with raids all along the border."

"Places where they have recently suffered some very public defeats, then?" said Douglass.

"Switch this holo to the local starmap please," Armstrong said out loud, and one of the station technicians complied. The hologram now showed most of the Raman PDZ which included the 'Galtor Thumb' and Combine territories beyond. He pointed. "When we took on Tripoli and destroyed the 11th Benjamin, that made it harder for them to attack Marduk. We have the Light Horse's 121st Regiment on standby on Marduk as a reserve force, and the 4th Crucis Lancers are on the way."

Then he pointed towards other nearby planets. "The 2nd Robinson Rangers are off to support New Aberdeen along with mercenaries like the Kell Hounds. Harrow's Sun is defended by our 21st Strikers and the 4th Deneb, two regiments, but we expect Wolf's Dragoons to assault it in force. The 1st Ceti Hussars were moved up to Elidere IV to guard the border, but they could join the fight once the Dragoons have fully committed, or strike at Misery or Thestria directly."

He looked up towards Douglass. "We have massed enough force that if Kurita doesn't take the bait, we *would* be going on the offense again. Likely our regiments - the Light Horse and the Rangers - and would combine to destroy the Amphigean Light Assault Groups at Reisling's Planet or a raid-in-force at Irurzun. Our objective is not to capture worlds, but to destroy the enemy's ability to conduct damaging offensives. With these many troops on the border, a clash is *inevitable*."

"Defenders usually have the advantage. Logically, the Combine should just prepare to destroy our own forces on the ground instead of going on maximum aggression," the other mercenary commander replied.

"But of course, if they were logical, they would not be the Combine," said Green-Davion.

"This… this could work," Mandella murmured. "This *should *work."

Douglass winced. "... Sir, it has been a thousand years since the first rocket lifted off from Terra, and still we better not tempt fate like that."

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Fake Star League Site
Galtor II
Next day

The two moons of Galtor III were visible as white little dots during the early morning. Unlike Terra's Luna, the moons were only less than five kilometers wide and had different orbital speeds around their host world. They were named Temos and Froma, after the founding fathers of the colony. Douglass could more easily see a brighter group of small stars beyond the little moons.

Those were not stars. As impressive as jumping into the stable pirate point between a star and a world, there was another reason beyond the difficult and the risk of misjump for people to prefer to emerge from hyperspace at the nadir or zenith points beyond a star's gravity well.

Planets… move.

And therefore, the L1 Lagrange Point between the star and the world… moves.

As the days pass and the planets unceasingly move in their orbits, so would those pirate points cease to be effective to allow JumpShips to jump out again. Normally then they would be stuck deep in-system until they could be towed out by spacecraft at the agonizingly slow .1g their hulls were rated to take. JumpShips were surprisingly cheap for their mass, but also incredibly fragile.

So, JumpShips transporting military forces were considered to be one-shot wonders if they manage to jump into an in-system pirate point. They had best succeed with that invasion or they were easy prizes. Unless they were willing to waste fuel burning through space to chase the moving bubble of their pirate point.

This was the other reason. It would take around a week to safely charge the KF-drive core. The volume of fuel that a JumpShip would spend burning its tiny station-keeping drive would be inefficiently much more than DropShips would spend burning to and from the system's inner reaches.

But the Eridani Light Horse apparently had Scout-class JumpShips, which while the smallest class of JumpShip were also oddly the type of JumpShip that could adequately move around on its own drives.

Douglass frowned minutely. Monoliths were not supposed to do that, maybe? But then again they were also 450,000 tons and the largest class of JumpShip, so he was not sure. The 12th Vegan Rangers did not have such a princely inheritance from the SLDF.

"What have you done?! You have ruined it!" hissed Lt. General Mandella at the sight of the (fake) Star League Depot.

That brought Douglass' attention back to the ground.

The three generals disembarked from the VTOL. Green-Davion remained behind at the 33rd to handle communications between the regiments all around the world and to field complaints by Comstar about the ELH's showboating.

The Eridani Light Horse had bulldozed through the minefield and laid a wide road straight into the depot. IndustrialMechs were deepening the trenchworks, which might not actually stop a Mech but would certainly slow down combat vehicles and make BattleMechs hesitate just jumping past them, knowing it was part of an active minefield.

The road was inviting and clear bait. A company of BattleMechs now clustered around the site. They were emplaced more like walking turrets behind embankments. "Urbanmechs, huh." Douglass mused as they disembarked from the transport. "I guess that makes perfect sense."

A group of them flanked either side of the road almost like an honor guard.

He pointed to the similarly-shaped bright yellow Industrial Mechs digging into the ground past the old minefields. "But since when were Urbanmechs also IndustrialMechs?"

Armstrong grinned. "We have far too many of them. Do you want some?"

Douglass had no idea how to respond to that.

He turned back towards the BattleMechs that now reinforced the formerly infantry-only force of the Davion Guards Auxiliary.

On further inspection, those were not AC/10s cannons on those 30-ton mechs. Some of them had missile bins in place of cannons. They were also not uniformly sized. Some Urbanmechs a bit taller than the others with larger cannons. He squinted. Too long to be AC/20s either. Those cannons had extra bolting and reinforcement half into the chassis of the small dumpy Mechs. The muzzle breaks on the tip of those cannons looked eerily familiar.

He stopped suddenly. "General Armstrong!"

"Yes?"

"Are those Thumper Artillery pieces on an Urbanmech?!"

General Mandella blinked. "Wait, what?" He turned about now to more deeply scrutinize the Light Mechs he had dismissed as simple disposable last-line defense. "Is that even possible?!"

Armstrong nodded. "In 40 tons, yes. The UrbanMech II-AT delivers a similar option as the 75-ton Helepolis."

"You all did uncover some massive secret SLDF cache, didn't you?" Douglass breathed. "Although, I do recall that the DEMETER CORE had to come from somewhere. Only the SLDF would have the riches and the time to experiment and produce such odd Urbanmech variants. I would assume that they do work as intended?"

Armstrong shrugged. "They're even faster than normal Urbanmechs, able to run up to Assault Mech speeds, yes. We have tested them, yes. The guns do work and are accurate enough. They have minor jumping ability like a regular Urbanmech."

"This is another mistake!" yelled Mandella. "You should not be showing your hand this soon! Light Mech Artillery like this… you should keep them hidden in reserve!"

"I must agree," added Douglass. "Even if the point is to offer substantial bait, this is too much. If Kurita were able to capture and reverse-engineer these Mechs, the whole concept of a Light Artillery Mech would be devastating to the balance of powers in the Inner Sphere!"

"I will not deny that it is a possibility. But look around you. This site started with nine layers of minefields. In the week it would take for Kurita to arrive from the jump point, if they started now, we could expand that into *twenty*." Armstrong spread his arms wide. "And when they try to sap the minefields, then we would have, as a friend liked to say - This is the only path. So we pray, Unlimited FASCAM Works."

"What?" quoth Mandella.

"Field Artillery Scatterable Minefields."

"That's lostech," the portly man added, with a flat unamused stare.

Douglass turned back to look at the wide highway into death. So… you can just replant minefields. Artillery firing High Explosive shells smashing down on enemy groups should also kick up the ground and disable minefields. But now the defenders don't even have to sally forth to close up gaps in their defense.

Douglass turned back to consider Nathan Armstrong.

There were those who considered the ELH as 'arrogant', and 'delusional' among the mercenary rolls. They could claim to be the most honorable, but 'the best' mercenary unit was in constant flux. There were many mercenary and even house regiments that could trace their history back to the Star League and even older.

Would it be unfair for the ELH to keep the largesse they discovered all to themselves?

Wait, they didn't. They shared the DEMETER CORE.

When it comes to military hardware, finder's keepers was the rule. Lostech were by their nature irreplaceable.

That confidence that the mercenary General showed, ready to *lose* so much valuable lostech in battle, confident that even enemy salvage would not make a difference, that was not a mercenary's mien. Not even he and the 12th Vegan Rangers would dare to be so carefree.

Perhaps the notion of being 'Hanse Davion's personal beatstick' was more than just a colloquialism. Unlimited funding and unlimited backing did wonders?

So this was political, then? He scowled. He did not wish to think about that. But if the ELH were now playing political games, having something that assured Hanse Davion of their loyalty even above his own Davion Heavy Guards, Douglass felt that reduced the veneer of respectability a little bit. Sharing the DEMETER CORE painted them as heroes of the Inner Sphere, but now he felt that was more of a smokescreen to distract from something more insidious.

He shook his head. No, that was none of his business. Only the upcoming battle mattered.

"This is the bait," Armstrong was saying. "Now let me show you the jaws of the trap."

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AN:
While this is redundant, the whole "god-sensor" thing has already been covered in earlier chapters, I felt this may show the difference in reception between a SLDF-derived unit and ones that had always been Davion.