Scorpio Ascendant

[masterarminas]

The Chamber of Elders, Tara
Northwind
March 30, 3038

“I do not see why this concerns the Free Worlds League at all,” said Thomas Marik after Jaime Wolf had finished with his briefing. “This . . . threat of Invasion will come, so you say, on the Periphery borders of the Lyran Commonwealth and the Draconis Combine. This is your problem; seldom enough have your states come to the defense of the League and its peoples—and I shall not commit my forces to defending your realms today.”

“Captain-General Marik,” answered Jaime, “we must all hang together, or we shall most assuredly hang separately. The Clans will not stop after devouring the Lyran Commonwealth and Draconis Combine; they will keep going until all of humanity is united under their dictatorial rule. They remember well how your ancestor snubbed General Kerensky and denied him the support of the League during the Amaris Coup—they will come for you as well, Lord Marik.”

“Hah!” barked Thomas. “Do not try to frighten me or intimidate me, Wolf! By your own admission, they will commit no more than one hundred of these Clusters—possibly less. That is just forty-two Regiments of BattleMechs—forty-two! Even if their weapons are as powerful as you claim, and it takes two or three of our Regiments to fight against them and win, the Lyrans, the Combine, and the Federated Suns alone can quite easily quash this invasion force with just their own forces! No, the League will not get involved with this . . . foolish excuse to surrender our sovereignty.”

“Have you forgotten that they possess WarShips, Lord Marik? And that their infantry alone is something from a nightmare that will rip through your ‘Mechs like paper-mache sculptures?”

Katrina Steiner smiled and she shook her head. “He hasn’t forgotten, Colonel Wolf—he is asking what is in this for him? Aren’t you Thomas?”

“Bribery will get you little, Katrina,” the Lord of the Free Worlds answered bluntly.

“Oh? You are immune to bribery, Thomas?” she laughed. “That alone makes you better than the rest of us.”

“What you could bribe me with, you will not. You will not return the worlds you seized in the 4th Succession War, nor will you return Bolan to the League. So, no, dear Katrina, there is nothing which you are willing to do which would coerce me to support this.”

“Not even a complete technical database which explains the recovered Star League technology found in your copy of the Helm Core, Captain-General Marik?” Jaime Wolf said sharply. “A database which shows exactly how to manufacture those weapons, equipment, and construction materials once used so commonly by the SLDF?”

Myndo Waterly jerked in her seat and if looks could kill, then Jaime Wolf would have been dead a hundred times over.

Thomas snorted. “My people will unlock the secrets of that core on their own, Jaime Wolf. You and your masters will have to do better than that if you want the assistance of the League in this matter.”

“Thomas, the Federated Commonwealth has to keep the Terran Corridor open,” Hanse said. “We cannot give you back those worlds—not all of them.”

“Oh, and which ones would you keep then, Hanse Davion?”

“Alula Australis, Graham IV, Procyon . . . and Oliver. If that is your price, we will return the remainder to your rule.”

Thomas Marik sat back in his chair. “It is a start, Lord Davion.”

“Then let us settle this matter once and for all time, Lord Marik,” Katrina began to say, but then she winced in pain; several servants began to cross over towards her but she waved them back down and composed herself. “Bolan is yours, Thomas. I will withdraw all Lyran Commonwealth and Federated Commonwealth personnel from it immediately after this conference.”

The Captain-General slowly nodded. “I will commit only Federal forces—and only a portion of those. That must be understood.”

“It is,” answered Hanse, but the First Prince of the Federated Suns was still staring at his mother-in-law. She had not announced publicly the news that she was terminally ill; her physicians gave her a year; perhaps two before the cancer eating away at her would claim her life. He squeezed Melissa’s hand, but Melissa Steiner-Davion did not let any emotion play across her face.

“Well, then. If Coordinator Kurita would agree, I will place a portion of the FWLM within the Draconis Combine, as you are already moving to reinforce the Lyran side. That leaves our newest Lord, Candace Liao to supplement the Free Rasalhague Republic—since you have problems with both Steiner and Kurita, Lord Magnusson,” Thomas continued.

“That is acceptable,” Haakon answered crisply. “Within reason, Lord Liao; I shall not allow your forces to outnumber my own.”

Candace laughed. “It will be quite a while before I can spare enough forces to outnumber yours, Lord Magnusson,” she answered.

Jaime Wolf nodded at the Lords seated before him. “There are many details that remain to be ironed out, but for now I think we have reached a meeting of the minds—tomorrow I have arranged for a demonstration of Clan weapons technology for each of you; bear in mind the units I will be allowing you to handle and observe tomorrow are considered . . . well, they are not quite obsolete, but they are war-machines reserved for garrison use. Their front-line forces are far more intimidating and lethal, my Lords.”

The Wolf paused, but then Myndo Waterly’s voice cut in.

“There remains one final matter, Jaime Wolf,” she said. “Your WarShips. Those ships could alter the balance of power between the Great Houses. I, must, as the only neutral party present request that you turn those ships over to the control of ComStar, to be used against these Invading Clans as required.”

Jaime’s eyes hardened into flints, and he shook his head. “Request denied, Primus,” he growled.

Myndo smirked. “You having these ships will provoke the Lords gathered here into investing tremendous resources in trying to build their own, Jaime Wolf. ComStar is the only reasonable alternative to field them, on behalf of all mankind.”

“No. Those ships belong to the Dragoon’s, Primus, and I shall not hand them over to you.”

Her nostrils flared, but she said nothing.

Jaime nodded. But then Haakon Magnusson spoke up. “Colonel Wolf,” he began, “you have told us of their numbers and their strengths and that they mean to invade our worlds. But why? Why wage a wage where it will take them more than a year’s journey aboard JumpShips to start. Why are they coming?”

“Lord Magnusson, your realm—and those of Lords Steiner and Kurita—are merely in their way. The Clans are striking at you not to destroy you, but to determine which Clan among them garners the most honor, glory, and stature as they race for their actual target. Terra.”

Myndo jerked; the blood drained from her face, and her jaw worked, but she uttered no sound. “The Clans hold Terra as a sacred world and they seek to claim as their capital. From there, they will then conquer us all, under the direction of an ilClan, the Clan that seized the seat of the long-dead Star League. The ilClan will be assigned the worlds of the Hegemony to rule over, while the remaining sixteen Clans divide the rest of the Inner Sphere amongst them, and eventually the Periphery states. The come, Prince Haakon, because they would impose their society, their culture, and their rule over every free man and woman living. And only the blood of those free men and women, shed on the field of battle, has a hope of stopping them.”

[masterarminas]

Highland Spaceport, Tara
Northwind
April 4, 3038

Jaime Wolf watched as the eye-tearing glares of DropShips ascended in the heavens, each carrying one of the Lords on his or her way home. His own DropShip waited for him and Natasha . . . and then they would have yeoman’s work ahead of them on Outreach.

“They agreed to more than I thought they would,” the Black Widow said at his side. “Certainly, I did not think they would go so far as to name you as Supreme Commander and charge you with devising a plan to repel the Clans when they come.”

“But is it enough, Colonel Kerensky?” Jaime mused as the last glowing trace of the drive plumes slowly shrank away. “We plastered over the fractures and united them with fear—but can they actually work together?”

“Who knows?” Natasha answered with a shrug. “I’m more worried about ComStar. Myndo never admitted to having any great numbers of troops—and she committed none to our operations. We both know what General Kerensky left on Terra long ago . . . and in the deep space naval caches.”

“She’s predictable, Natasha. Her own troops and her ships she will bring to defend Terra. The rest of humanity she couldn’t care about in the least—as long as no one else rules over all of them but her. She will sit and she will wait, and if she sees an opportunity, she will grab it; the consequences be damned. It is our job to make sure she doesn’t get that opportunity, while we prepare the forces of the Great Houses to defend the Inner Sphere.”

Natasha paused and she turned to face her commander squarely. “Are you sure of this, Jaime? I’m more good to you in command of the Black Widow Battalion than this forlorn hope you’ve hatched?”

“No, Natasha. Shooters I’ve got plenty of—good Colonels are available as well. You, on the other hand, are a true-born blood-named Warrior of Clan Wolf, bearing what is perhaps one of the prime blood-lineages of Nicolas Kerensky himself. No, when the recall order comes—and it will come—I want you to answer it. Return to the Clans and try to convince Ulric Kerensky to stop this madness.” He smiled. “At the very least, you will be able to pass me information once you are there.”

“I have no fear of being shot as a traitor, Jaime, but the odds against me even being given a com-,”

“Natasha Kerensky. You have never played the odds in your entire life. Knowing you, Ulric will make you Khan—or saKhan at the least.”

She snorted. “He may well just shoot me. But, if it is what you want . . . I’ll go. Damn it!” she snarled.

“What’s wrong?”

“I will need to start watching my language. You know how they feel about contractions!”

And Jaime Wolf laughed.

[masterarminas]

Chapter Four

“Today we are no longer just warriors who owe their oath to one realm. Today we begin the process of forging the soldiers of six Realms and scores of Mercenary Commands into a single combined whole whose sole purpose is defend our civilization and our homes against the coming storm. Here, on this world within the Free Rasalhague Republic, you will begin to learn how to fight and to defeat the Clans of Kerensky when they come. Victory will not be swift, it will not be without pain and sorrow, and we will know the bitter taste of defeat more than once. But Warriors! Today, through your very presence, we have the knowledge that the Lords of the Great Houses have set aside their differences and united in a common goal. The road before us is long and fraught with grave danger, but know this! Our Victory is certain.”

—Supreme Commander Jaime Wolf, addressing the Grand Army of the Inner Sphere, Tukayyid, October 14, 3038


Headquarters, Grand Army of the Inner Sphere
Tukayyid, Free Rasalhague Republic
July 17, 3043

Jaime Wolf, the Supreme Commander of the Grand Army of the Inner Sphere looked up as his aide knocked on the frame of the door. “You were right, Sir, they sent the recall order,” he said as he handed Wolf the decrypted transmission that arrived less than half an hour ago.

Jaime quickly read it over and he nodded. Short, sweet, and to the point. It was orders for the entire Wolf’s Dragoons to rejoin the forces of Clan Wolf at Hohenems no later than October 8, 3043. The transmission then went on to state that if this rendezvous was impossible to meet, Wolf’s Dragoons were instead to be at Tamar no later than December 30th, 3043. And the document was signed Ulric Kerensky, Khan of Clan Wolf upon the orders of ilKhan Yvonne Hazen.

They have appointed a Falcon as ilKhan, Wolf thought as he tapped the document pad against his thigh. He stood and he considered the board which showed his active units. At the moment, fifty Regiments and Regimental Combat Teams called Tukayyid home. All that the Houses could spare for the hammer which Wolf had welded together to send the Clans reeling in a counter-offensive once the regular house forces had bloodied them.

House Liao had sent five Regiments; small, but all top quality: the newly reformed Ariana Grenadiers and 1st Confederation Reserve Cavalry, plus the 1st St. Ives Lancers, Justinia’s Cuirassiers, and the 1st Kearny Highlanders.

Marik’s contribution was even smaller, and here Wolf snorted. Thomas Marik had dragged his feet for years, but the regiments he had sent to Tukayyid were excellent and well-equipped: the 1st Free Worlds Guards, the 1st Marik Militia, the 6th Marik Militia, and the 12th Atrean Dragoons.

Melissa Steiner-Davion had been apologetic, but since it was her realm—Katrina having died three years ago come September—she said she needed the majority of her Regiments to defend her people. Still, six RCTs of the LCAF were assembled: the 20th Arcturan Guards, 3rd Donegal Guards, 11th Lyran Guards, 15th Lyran Guards, the 1st Lyran Regulars, and the 4th Skye Rangers.

Haakon Magnusson had given Wolf a full twenty percent of his small KungsArmee; but that still amounted to no more than three Regiments. The 1st Drakons, 1st Kavalleri, and 3rd Freemen were all itching for battle—and those troops had greatly appreciated the ability to learn from more senior regiments gathered here.

House Kurita had sent the largest single contingent, despite the danger represented by the Clans directly invading it. Theodore Kurita—perhaps Takashi, but Wolf thought Theodore more likely—realized the need to preserve a single unified command with which to throw back the invaders, and he had not stinted on the units assigned. From the Draconis Combine, Wolf had under his command the 1st and 2nd Genyosha, all five Regiments of the Ryuken, both Night Stalkers Regiments, and the elite 3rd Prosperina Hussars. Ten Regiments in all.

Hanse Davion had sent eight RCTs and one Regiment. Not only were many of the Federated Suns regular units already deployed in his wife’s realm, he had held back a sizeable reserve to reinforce the Combine if needed. Although Takashi swore that he would die before the AFFS came to his rescue. He could well be right in that, Wolf speculated with a grim grin. The AFFS contribution was the Federated Suns Armored Cavalry (the only non-RCT sent), the 4th Davion Guards, the Davion Heavy Guards, the 3rd and 7th Crucis Lancers, the 1st New Ivaarsen Chasseurs, the 6th Syrtis Fusiliers, the 1st Kestrel Grenadiers, and the 1st Kathil Uhlans.

The remaining fourteen Regiments worth of troops were all mercenary formations: Alpha, Beta, and Gamma Regiments from his own Wolf’s Dragoons, plus the Black Widow Battalion, 7th Kommando, and Zeta Battalion; the three regiments of the Eridani Light Horse, all four Regiments of the 12th Vegan Rangers, the 1st Kell Hounds, Hell’s Black Aces, and the St. Cyr Heavy Assault Group.

He nodded briskly. It should be enough to show the Clans that they cannot simply roll over us.

“Wool-gathering, Jaime?” mocked Natasha from the door.

The Supreme Commander turned to face his subordinate and he smiled at her. “Natasha, if you don’t think you can pull this off, th- . . .”

“Oh, no. I think my part of this operation is going to be fun—raising hell in the staid Clan ranks. No, Jaime, I’m ready for my role.”

“Bid well, Natasha Kerensky of Clan Wolf. And good luck.”

“Bargained well and done, Jaime Wolf. I’ll send you back what information I can, when I can, through the network we set up.” And then without another word, she turned and left the office, to board her DropShip and meet up with the Clan Wolf invasion forces.

Jaime turned to his aide. “I want a real-time HPG conference set up with all of the House Lords immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

[masterarminas]

Headquarters, Grand Army of the Inner Sphere
Tukayyid, Free Rasalhague Republic
July 17, 3043

The holograms of the six leaders of the Great Houses appeared, along with that of the Primus and her First Circuit. Real-time transmissions were done but seldom—ComStar charged an exorbitant fee for them, but for this purpose, Jaime had decided it was necessary.

“They have begun assaulting the Bandit Kingdoms along the Lyran, Rasalhague, and Draconis borders, my Lords. I estimate that we have thirty days, certainly no more than sixty before they will hit us—and hit us hard.”

Myndo snorted. “They began their attack two days ago, Wolf! And you need not be concerned about an attack—I have taken steps to ensure that the Clans will never threaten us.”

Jaime stared at the Primus of ComStar for a moment and then he shook his head. “You have eliminated them as a threat, Primus? May I ask how?”

She smirked. “They may call themselves the Clans, but they are only human, Jaime Wolf. They are subject still to fear and terror and panic when bereft of their leadership on the eve of a major military campaign. It is my name which will be remember as the champion of humanity who drove back these Clans before they killed even one of our citizens, not yours. And it took no fifty Regiments of crack troops to do this, Supreme Commander,” she spat. “All it took was two believers in the Word of Blake and their willingness to deliver and trigger the device under your own Clan’s rules of safe conduct.”

Jaime’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. “You didn’t!” he snapped. “Do you know how they will react, Primus? Didn’t you even read the briefing material I have sent you these past five years?”

“It is not like I am killing a million or two of their civilians, Supreme Commander. Their leadership is a legitimate military target—and the device is only 220 kilotons. My people should be meeting with their ilKhan . . . right now in fact.” She smiled. “So, as you can see this threat is ended. Good evening.”

And her transmission ended as the blood drained from Jaime’s face.

Takashi Kurita shook his head. “How will they react, Wolf?” the older man asked quietly.

“The will go absolutely berserk, Lord Kurita,” Jaime whispered. “Using a nuclear weapon, to assassinate the ilKhan? They won’t hold back at all—the gloves will come off all the way.”

“They will not follow this zellbrigen?”

“Lord Kurita, they will probably not even land troops—just glass planets from orbit in their fury to reach Terra and utterly tear it asunder,” Jaime shuddered. “That woman may have just doomed us all.”

[masterarminas]

ComStar First Circuit
Hilton Head, Terra
July 17, 3043

“Primus, we never discussed this option!” Focht thundered as the transmission ceased, and Myndo scowled as she glared at her subordinate.

“I am Primus of ComStar, Precentor Martial! I determine what ComStar does and does not do. Besides, this isn’t a military operation, it is a political one.”

Charles Seneca, Precentor ROM, also frowned. “I too was not aware of this, Primus. I fear, having read the materials Wolf provided, that your actions will precipitate a blood-bath, not end this threat of invasion.”

“I do not need either of you to approve of my actions!” Myndo snapped. “Consider yourselves both lucky if you are not sent to reeducation!”

Precentor Dieron spoke up. “You may be Primus, but you rule only on behalf of the First Circuit—we should have been consulted!”

“Sharilar Mori, remember that it was I who made you a member of the First Circuit, and it is I who can remove you from that position!”

Rumbles from the other Precentors, however, made Myndo realize that the odds stacked against her were rapidly rising, so she changed tack.

“But I will not. Perhaps I should have consulted with this body before I acted, but as I said, this is a political exercise, not a military or intelligence operation. Precentor ROM, I have certainly read all of the briefing materials and I am quite aware of how these Clans will likely react. They will respond in a fury that will bleed the Houses white, and tear gaping holes within their own formations. The sword that Jaime Wolf wields will be dulled in battle over battle as the frenzied and furious Clans throw everything they have in an effort to destroy their dishonorable foes.” She chuckled and held her hands up to her face in mock surprise. “Oh, did I forget to tell the House Lords that those who are delivering my device are not claiming to be from ComStar? That they are the direct personal representatives of Hanse Davion and his wife Melissa Steiner-Davion? That they represent the Federated Commonwealth?”

Myndo laughed. “The Clans will blame Hanse Davion and Melissa Steiner for the death of their ilKhan and several of their Khans. They will blame the Federated Commonwealth for the use of a nuclear weapon. And when the dust settles and both sides are exhausted by years of combat; at that moment, we will unleash our fresh well-trained ComGuards to finish this once and for all! We will sweep away the Clans and the Great Houses in one fell swoop! And we will establish our rule, over all of the Inner Sphere! Blessed be Blake!”

“BLESSED BE BLAKE!”

[masterarminas]

CGSS Serket
Star’s End, Near Periphery
July 17, 3043

Nikolai watched as the Ghost Bear DropShips burned into towards one of their first three targets. He smiled as he watched the escorting OmniFighters tear into the Pirates swarming out from the ramshackle shipyards orbiting over Novo Cressidas, the sole inhabitable body in the system. The opposition was courageous, to be sure, but sorely outclassed and gravely outnumbered. And since these were mere bandits and pirates, the Ghost Bears had offered no batchall, nor were they using zellbrigen. A chain of explosions in the holo-tank showed the demise of the defenders in quick order, but the Bears didn’t even slow; their DropShips plunged into the thin atmosphere of Novo Cressidas to gather up the newest laborers of the Clan. Nikolai smiled grimly. It was all over but the crying, he thought.

This could have been a navigational disaster, with the multiple asteroid fields and clouds of debris, but the ships scouting for Silver Sable II had acquired three separate navigational databases used by these pirates—and the Bears had taken full advantage of that asset. HPG links to the other Clans had indicated that the paucity of opponents had been frustrating—the Jaguars had but one fight on the three worlds assigned to them. One fight against an ancient Phoenix Hawk and a warrior who came close to defeating her opponent in single combat. And like the Jaguars were wont to do, they killed her instead of taking her into the Clan to learn from her. Fools.

Only the Wolves on Oberon VI and Butte’s Hold, the Horses on Gotterdammerung, and the Falcons on Von Strang’s World had experienced significant resistance. The amount of resistance had been expected—by Nikolai—but Elias Crichell had ignored the warnings and intelligence reports. The bandits on the world named for Stefan Amaris’ henchman had not managed to stop the Falcons, but they had taken unnecessary causalities from walking straight into an ambush. The ilKhan was furious and she was engaged in a heated conference with Elias one-on-one, via the HPG links to her flagship here in this central location. And to make matters worse from the point of view of the prickly Falcon honor, the Horses and the Wolves had paid attention to the pre-strike briefings, and despite heavier opposition they crushed Hendrik Grimm, Redjack Ryan, and Mara Morgraine handily and with little damage.

“New contact!” sang out one of Serket’s crewmen. “Emergence at the jump point in three, two, one! Target is Merchant-class JumpShip, two DropShips on collars—they are not broadcasting friendly IFF!”

Star Colonel Nathan Arbuthnot responded instantly. “Lock weapons on target and broadcast an immediate call for their surrender! Prepare Star Gamma-One to board that vessel; ready fighters provide escort for the shuttle.”

“Aff, Star Colonel,” his subordinate called out, and then he cocked his head. “Star Colonel, they are hailing us.”

Nikolai frowned and he zoomed the holotank in on the vessel. The exterior cameras on Serket magnified the image thousands of times and he frowned as he saw the mailed fist and sword emblem of the Federated Commonwealth displayed on its bow. A FedCom vessel? Here? Were they taken by pirates, perhaps?

“On speaker,” barked the Star Colonel commanding the Scorpion Flagship.

“We request safcon in order to negotiate terms of the surrender of the Inner Sphere. We bear a message for the ilKhan of the Clans.”

Nikolai jerked.

“Order them to hold at the jump point—they are to keep their K/F drive off-line and they are not authorized to detach DropShips,” the ship commander barked. “Should I inform the Flag, my Khan,” he asked.

“Neg, Star Colonel. Play back that transmission, please,” Nikolai asked. And Nathan nodded to his juniors; the recording swiftly played again and Nikolai sucked in his breath.

Nathan stepped up close to the Khan. “Is something wrong, Sir?”

“They asked for safcon, Star Colonel. Safcon!”

“Aff, they did my Khan.”

“That is a term that only we of the Clans use; how do they know us well enough to be familiar with our colloquial speech? They should have asked for safe conduct; and how did they know to ask for the ilKhan? We are outside of their territory, so how did they even know we were here, Star Colonel?”

Nathan nodded, and he turned to stare at the JumpShip floating in the tank. “A ruse de guerre, my Khan? Quiaff?”

“Aff, Star Colonel.” But it means that someone talked, and given the only Clan personnel in the Inner Sphere are Wolf’s Dragoons . . . Nikolai shook his head. That is for later, he thought. “Instruct them to hold position while we inform the ilKhan of their arrival. Let them know we are sending them an escort to ferry their delegation across to this ship, where the ilKhan will meet with them. Once their DropShip undocks and gets underway, have your Elementals board and capture it and the JumpShip—I want prisoners for interrogation, Star Colonel. Is that understood?”

“Aff, my Khan.” He quickly passed Nikolai’s orders as the Scorpion Khan leaned against the holotank, watching the ship with an eagle-eye. His frown deepened as one of the two DropShips disconnected from the JumpShip and rotated until its bow was pointed in the direction of Serket. “New orders, Star Colonel. Engage that ship immediately!” Nikolai barked; a diplomatic delegation would have followed his orders to the letter.

“Engage the DropShip with our starboard battery, all guns fire as they bear!” repeated Star Colonel Arbuthnot.

Nikolai crossed the deck quickly as the intruding DropShip exploded in fury. “Communications—order the JumpShip and remaining DropShip to stand by and prepare to be boarded,” he said softly.

But before the CommTech could transmit the message, the JumpShip erupted in a blinding glare of light, and radiation alarms began to sound. Nikolai looked back up to see the holotank stabilizing after the primary sensors were overloaded and the secondary systems came on-line to replace them—and where the JumpShip once sat, there was now only floating debris.

“Nuclear detonation aboard that ship, my Khan,” Nathan reported. "We—and the Ghost Bear JumpShips—were far enough away from their coordinates that there is little threat of radiation.”

“Hail Victory, Star Colonel and patch the communication to my quarters once the ilKhan is ready to receive my report.”

“Aff, my Khan,” the Star Colonel replied as Nicolai left the ship’s command center.

[masterarminas]

One note: I have made a minor change in Clan ranks. Canon has a Star Commodore as being the Naval equivalent of Star Colonel. But that is a really clumsy title. Hence, I have done away with it. Naval ranks are identical to the rest of the Clans, with the exception of Star Admirals (equal to a Galaxy Commander). So in this universe, a Star Colonel commands a WarShip (although a Star Admiral will command his flag and the remaining vessels of his Naval Star). Star Commanders/Captains serve as DropShip/JumpShip commanders and junior officers aboard a WarShip.

You may now resume the debate.

MA

PS: i know Lady Tevar is following the story, but no one else has any thoughts or comments? I am shocked.

[Eternal_Freedom]

I have not commented for fear of disturbing the awesome. Given that I knew very little about the Battletech universe (and what little I know came from a Battletech/oBSG fanfic) I find it very easy to follow the story, which is a testament to your writing skills.

In story terms, the action is exciting, the grand plot has suckered me in and the character scenes are convincingly written. Between this and your Star Trek work I have plenty of reading to keep me entertained.

[masterarminas]

Since some people requested a list of all Clan units participating the Invasion, here you go. I haven’t been able to write much today; I had to help family members with preparing twenty bushels of corn—shucking, silking, and then getting it ready for storage. So my fingers are a bit frazzled, needless to say.

Next snippet will be up tomorrow.

MA


Clan TO&E, Operation Revival (Scorpio Ascendant AU)

The ilKhan’s Touman

Code: Select all

The Ebon Keshik Cluster

The ilKhan’s Naval Star

Victory-class BB (Victory—Flagship of the Clans)
Congress-class FF (Semper Fidelis)
Lola III-class DD (Lexington, Yorktown)

Invasion Corridor Alpha

Code: Select all

Clan Jade Falcon
Turkina Keshik (Elite) (Cluster)

Gamma Galaxy (Jade Falcon Galaxy)
Jade Falcon Guards (Elite)
12th Falcon Regulars Cluster (The Frozen Fears) (Elite)
3rd Falcon Talon Cluster (The Jade Claymores) (Elite)
9th Falcon Talon Cluster (The Falcon Lancers) (Elite)
89th Falcon Striker Cluster (The Justice Falcons) (Veteran)

Delta Galaxy (Gyrfalcon Galaxy)
305th Assault Cluster (The Blood Vision) (Elite)
5th Battle Cluster (The Golden Talons) (Elite)
2nd Falcon Jaegers Cluster (The Frost Falcons) (Elite)
4th Falcon Talon Cluster (Bloody Sunrise) (Veteran)
1st Falcon Striker Cluster (The Pursuing Peregrines) (Elite)

Vau Galaxy (Peregrine Galaxy)
8th Falcon Regulars Cluster (The Scarlet Scythes) (Veteran)
1st Falcon Velites (The Wolf's Bane) (Veteran)
4th Falcon Velites (White Vision) (Veteran)
94th Falcon Striker Cluster (Black Vision) (Veteran)
124th Falcon Striker Cluster (The Blue Demons) (Veteran)

Provisional Garrison Clusters:  24

Turkina's Pride Naval Star

Cameron-class BC (Turkina's Pride—Flagship)
Aegis-class CA (Frost Falcon; Hawkeye)
Congress-class FF (Kerensky's Pride)
Whirlwind-class DD (Emerald Tornado)


Clan Diamond Shark (Reserve Clan)

Alpha Galaxy (Deathstrike)
Diamond Skate (Elite)
21st Combined Assault Cluster (Elite)
27th Cruiser Cluster (Flashing Ivory) (Elite)
39th Strike Cluster (The Frenzy) (Elite)

Beta Galaxy (Predator)
Pearl Skate (Elite)
7th Cruiser Cluster (Riptide) (Elite)
6th Strike Cluster (Blood Hunters) (Elite)
42nd Combined Strike Cluster (Gnashers) (Elite)

Provisional Garrison Clusters:  16

Deep Hunter Naval Star

Sovetskii Soyuz-class CA (Nagasawa—Flagship)
Lola III-class DD (Predator; Space Hunter)
Essex-class DD (Sharon; Tracy)

Bounty of the Deep Transport Star

Potemkin-class Troop Cruiser (Kraken; Red Tide)
Volga-class Transport (Bold Venture; Speculator)

Invasion Corridor Beta

Code: Select all

Clan Hell's Horses
Alpha Keshik (Elite) (3 Trinary)
Omega Keshik (Elite) (3 Trinary)

Alpha Galaxy (Stampede of Steel)
Alpha Command (Elite) (1 Trinary)
21st Mechanized Assault (Firehorse Cluster) (Elite)
11th Mechanized Cavalry (Blackhorse Cluster) (Elite)
12th mechanized Cavalry (Steelhorse Cluster) (Elite)
22nd Mechanized Strike (Icehorse Cluster) (Elite)

Beta Galaxy (The Apocalypse)
Beta Command (Elite) (1 Trinary)
666th Mechanized Assault (War Cluster) (Elite)
77th Mechanized Cavalry (Famine Cluster) (Elite)
88th Mechanized Cavalry (Death Cluster) (Elite)
333rd Mechanized Strike (Pestilence Cluster) (Elite)

Gamma Galaxy (The Bloodriders)
Gamma Galaxy Command (Veteran) (1 Trinary)
201st Mechanized Assault (Bearslayer Cluster) (Veteran)
87th Mechanized Cavalry (Vindicator Cluster) (Veteran)
45th Mechanized Strike (Worldtaker Cluster) (Veteran)

Delta Galaxy (Riders on the Storm)
Delta Galaxy Command (Veteran) (1 Trinary)
44th Mechanized Assault (Tornado Cluster) (Veteran)
71st Mechanized Cavalry (Thunderstrike Cluster) (Veteran)
82nd Mechanized Strike (Firestorm Cluster) (Veteran)

Provisional Garrison Clusters:  18

Red Pegasus Naval Star

Cameron-class BC (Sleipnir—Flagship)
Congress-class FF (Bucephalus)
Lola III-class DD (Black Knight; Gold Knight)

Blood Horse Transport Star

Potemkin-class Troop Cruiser (Blood Horse; Steel Shield)
Volga-class Transport (Mount Olympus)


Clan Snow Raven (Reserve Clan)
Corvus Keshik (Elite) (cluster)

Alpha Galaxy (Swift Wing Galaxy)
6th Raven Battle Cluster (The Meteors) (Veteran)
1st Raven Dragoon Cluster (The Longshanks) (Elite)
9th Raven Striker Cluster (The Snow Hunters) (Elite)
4th Raven Wing Cluster (The Snow Wing) (Elite)
5th Raven Wing Cluster (The Frost Wing) (Veteran)
	
Beta Galaxy (Storm Crow Galaxy)
14th Raven Battle Cluster (Thunder Heart Cluster) (Veteran)
5th Raven Dragoon Cluster (The Wind Riders) (Elite)
97th Raven Striker Cluster (The Soaring Ravens) (Elite)
8th Raven Wing Cluster (The Ebon Wing) (Elite)
9th Raven Wing Cluster (The Ice Wing) (Veteran)

Provisional Garrison Clusters:  13

White Cloud Naval Star

Sovetskii Soyuz-class CA (Storm Crow—Flagship; White Cloud)
Lola III-class DD (Spur)
Essex-class DD (Eternity)
Whirlwind-class DD (Drake)
York-class CV (Corvidae)

Raven’s Nest Transport Star

Potemkin-class Troop Cruiser (Bonaventure; Rook)
Volga-class Transport (Tenacity)
Lola III-class DD (Bloody Talon)

Invasion Corridor Gamma

Code: Select all

Clan Steel Viper
Triasch Keshik (Elite) (Cluster)

Alpha Galaxy (Steel Viper Galaxy)
400th Assault Cluster (The Diamondbacks (Veteran)
1st Viper Guards (The Viper's Fury) (Elite)
2nd Viper Guards (The Sidewinders) (Elite)
4th Viper Guards (The Deadly Venom) (Elite)
61st Striker Cluster (The Heirs of Cukulcan) (Veteran)

Beta Galaxy (Steel Fang)
233rd Battle Cluster (The Hunting Vipers) (Veteran)
126th Striker Cluster (The Copperheads) (Veteran)
19th Striker Cluster (The Black Mambas) (Veteran)
Viper Fusiliers (Mercer’s Own) (Elite)
9th Viper Guards (The Anacondas) (Veteran)

Gamma Galaxy (Striking Serpents)
4234d Assault Cluster (Gamma's Pride) (Veteran)
428th Assault Cluster (The Striking Viper) (Veteran)
51st Battle Cluster (The Silent Strikers) (Veteran)
94th Battle Cluster (The Cottonmouths) (Veteran)
57th Striker Cluster (The Fangs of Death) (Elite)

Provisional Garrison Clusters:  19

Viper Triumphant Naval Star

Sovetskii Soyuz-class CA (Sanra Mercer—Flagship)
Congress-class FF (Snake Leader)
Lola III-class DD (Anaconda)
Essex-class DD (Martial Legacy)
Fredasa-class Corvette (Pit Viper)

Clan Ice Hellion (Reserve Clan)

Alpha Galaxy (The Blinding)
7th Attack Cluster (Elite)
40th Hellion Lancers (Elite)
77th Hellion Lancers (Veteran)
78th Hellion Lancers (Veteran)
150th Hellion Lancers (Elite)

Beta Galaxy (The Lithe Kill)
2nd Assault Cavaliers (Veteran)
200th Attack Cluster (Elite)
121st Hellion Lancers (Veteran)
33rd Strike Irregulars (Veteran)
90th Striker Irregulars (Veteran)

Provisional Garrison Clusters:  10

Hellion's Fury Naval Star

Aegis-class CA (Taney—Flagship)
Lola III-class DD (Cold Hunter; Radiant)
Essex-class DD (Moore's Honor)
York-class CV (Pack Leader)

Invasion Corridor Delta

Code: Select all

Clan Wolf

Alpha Galaxy (The Dire Wolves)
The Golden Keshik (Elite) (1 Trinary)
328th Assault Cluster (The Lion-Hearted) (Elite)
279th Battle Cluster (The Golden Horde) (Elite)
3rd Wolf Guards Cluster (The Sentinels) (Elite)
4th Wolf Guards Cluster (The Cyclops Cluster) (Elite)

Beta Galaxy (The Arctic Wolves)
The Silver Keshik (Elite) (1 Trinary)
341st Assault Cluster (The Silver Blizzard) (Elite)
352nd Assault Cluster (The Silver Wolves) (Elite)
3rd Battle Cluster (Silver Devils) (Elite)
9th Wolf Guards Cluster (Silver Fangs) (Elite)

Gamma Galaxy (The Wolf Hussars)
The Bronze Keshik (Veteran) (1 Trinary)
5th Battle Cluster (Ghost Hunters) (Veteran)
7th Battle Cluster (The Hungry Wolves) (Veteran)
11th Battle Cluster (The Bronze Lancers) (Veteran)
16th Battle Cluster (The Bronze Furies) (Veteran)

Delta Galaxy (The Red Wolves)
The Red Keshik (Veteran) (1 Trinary)
11th Wolf Guards Cluster (The Lightning Pack) (Veteran)
4th Striker cluster (Red Death) (Veteran)
37th Striker Cluster (Blood Kits) (Veteran)
103rd Striker Cluster (Red Thunder) (Veteran)

Provisional Garrison Clusters:  26

Wolf Naval Star

Sovetskii Soyuz-class CA (Dire Wolf—Flagship)
Congress-class FF (Rogue)
Lola III-class DD (Nature's Wrath)
Vincent-class Corvette (Trailblazer; Valiant)
Potemkin-class Troop Cruiser (Full Moon)

Clan Coyote (Reserve Clan)

Alpha Galaxy (Spirit of the Coyote)
Golden Keshik (Guardians of the Prophecy) (Veteran) (cluster)
Silver Keshik (The Chosen) (Elite) (cluster)
38th Assault Cluster (The Faithful) (Veteran)
49th Battle Cluster (Midnight Assault) (Veteran)
8th Recon Cluster (Eyes of the Coyote) (Veteran)

Delta Galaxy (Heart of the Coyote)
50th Assault Cluster (Creeping Death) (Elite)
67th Assault Cluster (The Devastators) (Veteran)
19th Battle Cluster (Long Fangs) (Veteran)
34th Strike Cluster (Rabid Coyotes) (Elite)
80th Strike Cluster (Swift Retribution) (Veteran)

Provisional Garrison Clusters:  17

The Howling Naval Star

Cameron-class BC (Blood of the Coyote—Flagship)
Sovetskii Soyuz-class CA (Howling)
Lola III-class DD (Honor of Ages; Courage)
Essex-class DD (Windrunner)

Invasion Corridor Epsilon

Code: Select all

Clan Ghost Bear

The Ourse Keshik (Elite) (1 Trinary)

Alpha Galaxy (The Golden Bears)
The Silveroot Keshik (Elite) (1 Trinary)
1st Bear Guards (The Rage) (Elite)
3rd Bear Guards (The ilKhan's Shield) (Elite)
5th Bear Guards (Arctic Thunder) (Elite)
50th Striker Cluster (The Black Bears) (Elite)

Beta Galaxy (Night Howlers)
The Shrill Keshik (Veteran) (1 Trinary)
304th Assault Cluster (The Howling Bears) (Veteran)
332nd Assault Cluster (The Iowa Blacklancers) (Elite)
14th Battle Cluster (The Maulers) (Elite)
12th Bear Chevaliers (The Wendigos) (Elite)

Delta Galaxy (The Blitzkrieg)
Jorgensson's Keshik (Elite) (1 Trinary)
8th Bear Cuirassiers (The Blinding Drive) (Elite)
73rd Battle Cluster (The Lash) (Veteran)
68th Striker Cluster (The Walking Panzers) (Veteran)
140th Striker Cluster (Death from Above) (Veteran)

Rho Galaxy (Bear Essentials)
Kabrinski's Keshik (Elite) (1 Trinary)
18th Battle Cluster (Fire with Fire) (Veteran)
243rd Battle Cluster (Apollo's Chariot) (Elite)
283rd Battle Cluster (Ursine Inferno) (Veteran)
279th Battle Cluster (The Burnout Brigade) (Veteran)

Provisional Garrison Clusters:  26

The Blizzard Naval Star

Cameron-class BC (Dieron's Run—Flagship)
Black Lion-class BC (Bear's Den)
Lola III-class DD (Blizzard)
Essex-class DD (White Fang)
Fredasa-class Corvette (Black Ghost)
	
Clan Goliath Scorpion (Reserve Clan)

Knife Dance Keshik (Scorpion's Destiny) (Elite) (cluster)

Alpha Galaxy (The Rock Minders)
24th Scorpion Cuirassier (The Khan's Own) (Elite)
25th Scorpion Cuirassier (Scorpions of the Veil) (Elite)
8th Scorpion Dragoons (The Whip-Tail Brigade) (Elite)
14th Scorpion Hussars (Swift Retribution) (Elite)

Beta Galaxy (Sand Runners)
21st Scorpion Cuirassiers (Black Sun) (Elite)
23rd Scorpion Cuirassiers (The Ironshell Irregulars) (Elite)
1st Scorpion Dragoons (Heartvenom) (Elite)
6th Scorpion Hussars (Desert Wind) (Elite)

Provisional Garrison Clusters:  12

Burning Sting Naval Star

Sovetskii Soyuz-class CA (Serket—Flagship)
Cameron-class BC (Hephaestus)
Aegis-class CA (Coma Bernices)
Congress-class FF (Fornax)
Lola III-class DD (Scorpius)

Wild Hunt Transport Star

Potemkin-class Troop Cruiser (Karttikeya; Prometheus)
Essex-class DD (Orpheus)

Invasion Corridor Zeta

Code: Select all

Clan Star Adder

Adder Command Keshik (The Light of Command) (Elite) (Cluster)
Adder Quasar Keshik (Iron Will) (Elite) (Cluster)

Alpha Galaxy (Old Blood and Guts)
5th Assault Cluster (Georgie's Gorillas) (Elite)
85th Adder Cavaliers (Gallant Steeds) (Elite)
191st Adder Guards (Saar Cavaliers) (Elite)
11th Armored Cavalry Squadron (Messina Missionaries) (Veteran)
87th Dragoon Cluster (Ivory Six-Shooters) (Veteran)

Beta Galaxy (Blood Feud)
13th Adder Assault Cluster (Arcadian Devils) (Veteran)
42nd Adder Cavaliers (The Answer) (Elite)
73rd Adder Cavaliers (Scourge of the Highlands) (Veteran)
9th Armored Cavalry Squadron (Spirit Crushers) (Veteran)
69th Dragoon Cluster (Fighting Gurkhas) (Veteran)

Delta Galaxy (Thunderstrike)
6th Adder Assault Cluster (Vladivostok Flames) (Elite)
132nd Adder Guards (Raleigh Rifles) (Veteran)
18th Armored Cavalry Squadron (Allah's Will) (Elite)
212th Battle Cluster (Sheet Lightning) (Veteran)

Provisional Garrison Clusters:  26

Last Word Naval Star

Sovetskii Soyuz-class CA (Nygaard—Flagship)
Black Lion-class BC (Admiral William S. Preston)
Lola III-class DD (Warlock)
York-class CV (Crusader; Ranger)
Potemkin-class Troop Cruiser (Renown)

Clan Cloud Cobra (Reserve Clan)
Cobra Keshik (Elite) (cluster)

Alpha Galaxy (The Keystone)
33rd Battle Cluster (Thor's Hammer) (Veteran)
84th Cobra Coil (Wings of Pharaoh) (Elite)
214th Cobra Fang (Black Sheep) (Elite)
149th Cobra Guards (The Azure Guard) (Elite)
116th Dragoon Cluster (Last Stand) (Veteran)

Beta Galaxy (Scourge of the Pentagon)
1st Cobra Coil (Wild Kaards) (Veteran)
45th Cobra Grenadiers (Spitting Serpents) (Veteran)
185th Cobra Fang (Heaven's Gate) (Veteran)
222nd Cobra Fang (Iron Butterflies) (Veteran)
245th Cobra Guards (The Ivory Guards) (Veteran)

Provisional Garrison Clusters:  12

Cobra Naval Reserve Alpha

Cameron-class BC (Incense—Flagship)
Lola III-class DD (Cataclysm)
York-class CV (Brimstone; The Protector)

Invasion Corridor Eta

Code: Select all

Clan Fire Mandrill

Kindraa Sainze (Battle Hardened)
53rd Assault Cluster (Stalwarts) (Veteran)
3rd Sainze Honor Guard Cluster (Banner-Bearers) (Elite)
7th Sainze Honor Guard Cluster (The Fire-Eaters) (Veteran)

Kindraa Faraday-Tanaga (The Gift of Foresight)
16th Assault Cluster (Silent Sentinels) (Veteran)
1st Battle Cluster (The Fire Grenadiers) (Elite)
3rd Battle Cluster (The Valiant) (Veteran)

Kindraa Payne (Strength of Will)
1st Battle Payne (Embers of Warfare) (Elite)
1st Strike Payne (The Fire Dancers) (Elite)

Kindraa Mattila-Carrol (Up and Coming)
61st Firestorm Cluster (The Brimstone Cluster) (Elite)
71st Firestorm Cluster (Dante's Torment) (Veteran)

Kindraa Beyl-Grant (Up In The Air)
42nd Battle Cluster (Groundfire) (Veteran)
87th Mandrill Airborne (Red Skies Cluster) (Veteran)

Kindraa Kline (The Extended Family)
21st Vanguard Battle Cluster (Hade's Gate) (Veteran)
31st Vanguard Striker Cluster (Hell's Wind) (Veteran)

Kindraa Mick-Kreese (The Unfriendly Skies)
23rd Assault Force (Amber Fire) (Veteran)
4th Battle Force (The Phoenix Cluster) (Elite)

Provisional Garrison Clusters:  15

Fire Mandrill Naval Assault Star

Sovetskii Soyuz-class CA (Reaver—Flagship)
Lola III-class DD (Anathema; Rage; Rancor)

Clan Blood Spirit (Reserve Clan)
Blood Guard Keshik (Elite) (cluster)

Alpha Galaxy (The Blooding)
7th Blood Drinkers Cluster (Elite)
Red Guards (Elite)
37th Red Assault Cluster (Veteran)
55th Red Vanguard Cluster (Elite)
112th Scarlet Battle Cluster (Elite)

Omega Galaxy (The Sanguine Reavers)
79th Blood Hussars (Elite)
71st Crimson Assault Cluster (Elite)
91st Crimson Vanguard Cluster (Veteran)
33rd Red Battle Cluster (Veteran)
Scarlet Guards (Elite)

Provisional Garrison Clusters:  13

Blood Spirit Flagship

Black Lion-class BC (Rocinante—Flagship)

Invasion Corridor Theta

Code: Select all

Clan Smoke Jaguar
The Jaguar's Den Keshik (Elite) (1 Trinary)

Alpha Galaxy (The Roaring Jaguars)
Alpha Galaxy Command Trinary (The Shroud Keshik) (1 Trinary)
336th Jaguar Combat Cluster (The Rake) (Elite)
6th Jaguar Dragoons (Smoke and Fire) (Elite)
7th Jaguar Dragoons (The Leaping Jaguar) (Elite)
Jaguar Grenadiers (The Immortals) (Elite)
5th Jaguar Regulars (The Victory Cluster) (Elite)

Beta Galaxy (The Mistweavers)
Beta Galaxy Command Trinary (The Swath Keshik) (1 Trinary)
362nd Assault Cluster (The Silver Jaguars) (Elite)
225th Battle Cluster (Bringers of Armageddon) (Elite)
267th Battle Cluster (The Devil's Mist) (Elite)
1st Jaguar Guards (The Whitewatch) (Elite)
2nd Jaguar Guards (The Striking Cats) (Elite)
	
Delta Galaxy (The Cloud Rangers)
Delta Galaxy Command Trinary (The Skyriders Keshik) (1 Trinary)
1st Jaguar Cavaliers (Ghost Cats) (Veteran)
3rd Jaguar Cavaliers (The Stormriders) (Veteran)
4th Jaguar Dragoons (The Pouncing Jaguar) (Veteran)
214th Jaguar Dragoons (The Stalkers) (Veteran)
19th Striker Cluster (The Razor's Edge) (Veteran)

Provisional Garrison Clusters:  23

Streaking Mist Naval Star

Black Lion-class BC (Streaking Mist—Flagship)
Congress-class FF (Snow Leopard)
Lola III-class DD (Storm Cat)
Essex-class DD (Sabre Cat)
York-class CV (Lioness)

Clan Nova Cat
The Nova Cat Keshik (Elite) (Cluster)

Alpha Galaxy (Victory over Delusion)
Alpha Galaxy Command (The Vision Keshik) (Elite) (1 Trinary)
449th Assault Cluster (Joys and Sorrows) (Elite)
489th Assault Cluster (The Third Eye) (Elite)
4th Nova Cat Guards (Hand of Fate) (Elite)

Sigma Galaxy (Spiritual Vision)
Sigma Galaxy Command (The Lachesis Keshik) (Elite) (1 Trinary)
44th Nova Cat Cavaliers (The Five Actions (Elite)
Nova Cat Lancers (The Path of Right) (Elite)
179th Striker Cluster (Circle of Power) (Elite)

Delta Galaxy (Ways of Seeing)
Delta Galaxy Command (The Shiva Keshik) (Veteran) (1 Trinary)
274th Battle Cluster (Vigilance of the Cat) (Veteran)
7th Nova Cat Guards (The Oracles) (Veteran)
119th Striker Cluster (Self Harmony) (Veteran)

Provisional Garrison Clusters:  17

Thunderbolt Naval Star

Black Lion-class BC (Severen Leroux—Flagship)
Lola III-class DD (Faithful; Ranger)
York-class CV (Anna Rosse)

Total Force

Galaxies: 48
Clusters: 208
PGCs: 287

WarShips:
BB: 1
BC: 11
CA: 13
FF: 7
DD: 35
CV: 8
Corvette: 5
Troop Cruiser: 10
Transport: 5
Total: 95

[masterarminas]

And The Plan! Heh, actually the scheduled worlds for each Wave of Attacks (at 45-day intervals!). This is only the schedule; reality will interject itself relatively quickly.

Corridor Alpha (Jade Falcon):

Periphery: Von Strang's World; Botany Bay
Wave I: Bone-Norman; Barcelona; Newtown Square; Black Earth; Nogyorod; Kikuyu; Roadside
Wave II: Hot Srpings; Blackjack; Clemont; Chahar; Blue Hole; Goat Path; Kooken's Pleasure Pit
Wave III: Pasig; Mkuranga; Deja; Babaeski; Antares; Morges; Yeguas
Wave IV: Esteros; A Place; Bountiful Harvest; New Exford; Kandersteg; Arc Royal*
Wave V: Summit; Grunwald; Surcin; Garrison; Arcturus
Wave VI: Lucianca; Leganes; Carstairs; Yed Prior
Wave VII: Alexandira; Freedom; Izar; Marfik; Ryde
Wave VIII: La Blon; Skondia; Lyons; Rigel Kentarus
Wave IX: Terra


Corridor Beta (Hell's Horses):

Periphery: Gotterdammerung; Lackhove; Erewhon
Wave I: Here; Bensinger; Anywhere; Apollo; Somerset; Wotan; Goandrinas
Wave II: Windfield; Derf; Beta VII; Malibu; Trell I; Butler; Twycross
Wave III: Waldorff; Denizli; Alyina; Apolakkia; Devin; Paraloila; Baker 3
Wave IV: Graus; Sudeten; Blair Atholl; Dustball; Koniz; Benfled; Gaceland
Wave V: Ballynure; Pandora; Crimold; Borghese; Kelenfold
Wave VI: Apostica; Ganshoren; Auldhouse
Wave VII: Corridan IV; Yed Posterior; Baxter; Kimball; Kimephoros
Wave VIII: Dromini VI; Atria; Ko; Yorji
Wave IX: Terra


Corridor Gamma (Steel Viper):

Periphery: Placida; Blackstone; Last Chance
Wave I: Toland; Steelton; Icar; Persistence; New Caldedonia; Verthand; Chateau
Wave II: Maxe's Planet; Csesztreg; Romulus; Harvest; Evclier; Seiduts; Planting
Wave III: Vantaa; Svarstaad; Leskovik; Zoetermeer; Dell; Vulcan; Sevren
Wave IV: Dompaire; Colmar; Laurent; Cusset; Biota; Montmarault; La Grave
Wave V: Domain; Orkney; Toumans; Quarell; Jabuka; Rasalgethi; Fort Loudon
Wave VI: Meacham; Blue Diamond; Fatima; Morningside; Al Hillah; Orestes; Dalkeith
Wave VII: Sakhalin; Symington; Eaglesham; Phalan; Konstance
Wave VIII: Alrakis; Kessel; Sabik
Wave IX: Terra


Corridor Delta (Wolf):

Periphery: Oberon VI; Butte Hold; Sigurd
Wave I: Alleghe; The Edge; St. John; Bruben; Rodigo; Lovinac; Kirchbach
Wave II: Liezen; Mozinje; Feltre; Ridderkerk; Hohenems; Basiliano; Kufstein
Wave III: Skolde; Moritz; Kandis; Tamar; Weingarten; Volders; Thannhausen
Wave IV: Maestu; Kobe; Bessarabia; Hyperion; Karstor; Perrot; Hainfeld
Wave V: Wheel; Thun; Suk II; Galuzzo; Cargo; Diosd; Lothan
Wave VI: Tukayydi; Euda; Karbala; Grumium; Accrington
Wave VII: Shionoha; Cebalrai; New Messek; Vega; Eltanin
Wave VIII: Imbros III
Wave IX: Terra


Corridor Epsilon (Ghost Bear):

Periphery: Gustrell; Crellacor; Star's End
Wave I: Outpost; Skallevoll; Svelvik; Balsta; New Bergan; Leoben; Hermagor
Wave II: Rasalhague; New Oslo; Dawn; Ferleiten; Engadin; Unzmarkt; Stanzach
Wave III: Memmingen; Vorarlberg; Gunzberg; Heiligendruez
Wave IV: Satalice; Scandia; Nox; Utrecht
Wave V: Ramsau; Altenmarkt; Dehgolan; Shirotori
Wave VI: Camlann; Buckminster; Port Moseby; Aubisson
Wave VII: Alnasi; Kaus Borealis
Wave VIII: Kaus Australis; Kaus Media; Moore
Wave IX: Terra



Corridor Zeta (Star Adder):

Periphery: Paulus Prime; Drask's Den; The Rock
Wave I: Damian; Thule; Holmsbu; Pinnacle; Constance; Jarett; Susquehanna
Wave II: Trondheim; Last Frontier; Radije; Vipaava; Jezersko; Pomme De Terre; Predlitz
Wave III: Spittal; Casere; Goito; Radstadt; Hempten; Thessalonika; Kaesong
Wave IV: Sheliak; Alshain; Tinata; Marawi; Stemwerde; Halesowen; Maule
Wave V: Ardoz; Setubal; Eguilles; Krenice; Mannedorf; Rubigen; Toffen
Wave VI: Najha; Kiesen; Chandler; Pilkhua; Caldrea; Trolloc Prime
Wave VII: Tsukude; Alya
Wave VIII: Lambrecht; Dyev; Asta
Wave IX: Terra


Corridor Eta (Fire Mandrill):

Periphery: Nyserta; Elissa; Ferris
Wave I: Richmond; Schwartz; Idlewind; Rockland; Turtle Bay; Alumnge; Brocchi's Cluster (40)
Wave II: Nykvarn; Garstedt; Polcenigo; Schuler; Albiero; Savinsville; Luzeme
Wave III: Courchevel; Byesville; Itabaina; Soverzene
Wave IV: Yamarovka; Mualang; Kanowit; Tanh Linh; Kiamba; Dumaring; Babuyan
Wave V: Meilen; Odabasi; Ogano; Darius; Arkab
Wave VI: Numki; Baldur; Sulafat; Gram
Wave VII: Shimosuwa; Altais; Rukbat
Wave VIII: Ascella; Kuzuu
Wave IX: Terra


Corridor Theta (Smoke Jaguar):

Periphery: Porthos; Santander V; Manaringaine
Wave I: Bjarred; Virentofta; Stapelefield; Chupadero; Jeanette; Kabah; Coudoux
Wave II: Hanover; Bangor; Jeronimo; Wolcott; Marshdale; Hyner*; Maldonado*
Wave III: Pesht*; Teniente; Irece; Juazeiro; Outer Volta; Labrea, Caripare
Wave IV: Cyrenaica; Asgard; Port Arthur; Tarazed; Avon; Kilmarnock*; Luthien*
Wave V: Baruun Urt; Braunton; Xinyang; Dyfed; Paracale; Sakai
Wave VI: Tok Do; Otho; Aix-la-Chapelle; Awano
Wave VII: Kajikazawa; Fukuroi*; Benjamin*; Sutama*; Minakuchi; Shitara
Wave VIII: Pike IV; Athenry; Dieron*; Altair
Wave IX: Terra

*Denotes a world outside of the Invasion Corridor proper.

[masterarminas]

CGSS Serket
Star’s End, Near Periphery
July 17, 3043

The holographic tank projected the image of ilKhan Hazen, plus the images of the Khans of Clans Ghost Bear, Hell’s Horses, Star Adder, and Wolf. And Yvonne Hazen was frowning.

“A deliberate assassination attempt aimed at me? With a nuclear weapon?”

Nikolai shook his head. “Whether it was or not does not matter, ilKhan. The point that worries me most is that they knew we were here—and that they were familiar with our language and customs. This leads me to four possible conclusions: the first being that there is a traitor in our midst who is passing information to the Inner Sphere.”

Several of the Khans stiffened, but each slowly nodded in turn. “It need not be a Warrior; many of our ranking Scientists, Merchants, and Technicians are familiar enough our plans to provide our enemies with this intelligence—and we know that the Burrock Annihilation did not completely destroy the Dark Caste within our ranks.”

“All HPG transmissions are automatically recorded, Khan Djerassi,” said Jake Fletcher, but then he nodded. “And quite possibly never reviewed—I will correct that oversight immediately among my own Clan.”

“If it is a Merchant, Khan Fletcher,” Ulric added, “the communication may not be via HPG; we are close enough that they could make physical contact with the Inner Sphere. But this does not seem like an action the Federated Commonwealth would attempt.”

“No,” answered Nikolai. “From the data gathered by the Watch, the Commonwealth is not that incompetent—they would have obeyed my orders to hold their position, until they were actually being boarded. That would have given them the opportunity to eliminate at least one DropShip and a few Elemental points instead of killing themselves for no gain. It strikes me as . . . amateurish.”

“Agreed,” rumbled Amanda Tseng. “Your second possibility?”

Nikolai looked at Ulric and he nodded. “We lost contact with Wolf’s Dragoons twenty-four years ago; they may well have gone rogue. They had in their possession six WarShips and a complete technological database—if they are actively working with the Inner Sphere, there is a good chance that we will encounter stronger resistance than we otherwise expected.”

Ulric frowned. “That is a possibility, Khan Djerassi, and we must make allowances within our plans for if they have. But I assure you, my Khans, there has been no contact with Clan Wolf since 3019. We shall see soon enough, for I have issued the recall order, at the direction of the ilKhan.”

“No one was accusing Clan Wolf, Khan Kerensky,” Marion said soothingly. “Still,” he mused, “how would the Dragoons have known the ilKhan would be present?”

“Which leads to the third possibility: we know that ComStar is the organization responsible for maintaining interstellar communications within the Inner Sphere. And they had two HPG facilities within the Chainelaine Isles and still more on the worlds of these Bandit Kingdoms. We also know that General Kerensky left approximately a Corp of the SLDF to defend Terra under the command of Jerome Blake—the last Minister of Communications of the Star League. And that the Titan Yards were fully operational and several score of WarShips too damaged to make the journey were handed over to Blake as well. To date, the Watch has not uncovered any information that ComStar retains military force; yet no power has ever attacked Terra itself since the Exodus. None of those WarShips were ever engaged in the battles of the Succession Wars, but there are not hulks littering the Terran system. ComStar agents on the worlds we occupied could have ferreted out our movements—operational security has not been one of our primary concerns, after all. And who knows exactly what military forces they might still have for the defense of Terra—or an attack on us.”

Jake slowly nodded. “It would explain that they acted as sibkin, not trained Warriors, as well; their leader might well have panicked when his plan went awry. They will have had no actual experience in combat, after all.”

“We cannot assume that,” snapped Ulric. “Some of their members might well have served in the military forces of the Successor States before joining ComStar—a large portion of the ComStar military, if any, might well be green as grass, but we cannot afford to make the mistake of assuming they all are.”

“Truth, Wolf,” said Yvonne. “And what is your fourth possibility, Khan Djerassi?”

Nikolai winced. “There is the matter of the Minnesota Tribe that the Watch uncovered.”

Every Khan jerked; that story—and merest possibility of the Not Named Clan having survived its Annihilation—had become known by the highest ranks almost immediately after the Watch started Silver Sable II.

“The emblem worn by the Minnesota Tribe was almost exactly the same as that of the 331st Royal BattleMech Division—the same unit whose Brian Cache played a vital role in the chain of events leading up to the Annihilation of the Not Named Clan. The time-frame of when the Minnesota Tribe appeared in the Periphery marches of the Draconis Combine conforms well with when the Not Named Clan fled. If the Minnesota Tribe was the remnants of the Not Named Clan, and they did find refuge in the Inner Sphere; there may be a presence here that utterly hates the Clans of Kerensky and seeks revenge against us all.”

“How could they have remained in hiding all these years?”

“Perhaps they did not, Khan Tseng,” Ulric answered even as he shook his head. “We have already established that a portion of the SLDF remained on Terra. What if this Minnesota Tribe were folded into ComStar? Certainly, from our information we know that no other Great House expanded it military during this time—and if so, those same ComStar agents could have communicated with the Tribe on Terra.” Ulric refused to voice the idea that these were the Not Named. After all, it had been Clan Wolf who Annihilated them long ago.

“Theories. Guesses. We need facts, my Khans,” said Yvonne. “Let us presume that the Inner Sphere is aware that we are here—and that even now they are speeding reinforcements to our Objective Zones. What changes do we make in the operational plans?”

“None, ilKhan,” answered Nikolai.

“None? None, Khan Djerassi?”

“He is correct, ilKhan,” added Ulric. “The plan is set—and we have all made contingencies for different situations.” He chuckled bitterly. “Well, the Jaguars might not have, but the rest of us have fall-back plans in the event of a radical change in our opponents defensive posture. Warn the Khans and the Galaxy Commanders to be prepared for higher than expected resistance—possibly the presence of Star League-era weapons and equipment as well. But other than that, ilKhan Hazen; we are poised ready to leap, and we cannot stop now.”

“If we had three more years,” Nikolai whispered, “Silver Sable would have been able to gather intelligence on the worlds of Waves VI, VII, VIII, and IX—as well as the worlds outside of our invasion corridors. We know what defenses they have in place within our corridors—although some of our data is three years old as of today. We do not know what forces they have in position on our flanks to launch a counter-offensive.”

“Every commander wants more intelligence, Khan Djerassi,” Yvonne said quietly, but she nodded. “Very well, I will inform the other Khans to raise their threat levels and expect the unexpected—and we will move up Wave I by fourteen days. I want all Wave I elements to hit their targets simultaneously at 2400 hours on July 24. Khan Djerassi, a word in private before you sign off,” she finished.

The other Khans faded out as their HPGs ended the real-time comm link, leaving only Nikolai and the ilKhan. “I understand that you have moved your Delta Galaxy to Rondane in Chainelaine, quiaff?”

“Aff, ilKhan.”

“You know you are not permitted to use them in the Invasion—your force level is set at your Alpha and Beta Galaxies, plus your command Keshik, quiaff?”

“Aff, ilKhan, and my two Artillery Reserve Trinarys.”

“So why is Delta Galaxy on Rondane, Nikolai?”

“ilKhan Hazen, I have assigned Delta Galaxy as the garrison force for Rondane—to protect my supply chain and factories there. I have also moved two more Scorpion Constabulary Clusters from the Homeworlds to Rondane so that I might use the full force granted my Clan during the Invasion, without having to detach elements to watch my rear.”

Yvonne smiled. “And having a front-line Galaxy so close, if you take casualties amongst your Alpha and Beta forces, you can quickly replace them, quiaff?”

“Aff, ilKhan.”

But her smile faded. “If ComStar knows about Chainelaine, Nikolai . . .” her voice trailed off. “That is the wrong question, Khan Djerassi. If you were in command on the other side, and you knew about Chainelaine, what would your actions be?”

“I would hit it as hard as I could to sever our means of keeping this force supplied and in the field, ilKhan,” Nikolai answered quickly.

“As would I, Khan Djerassi. And yet, the defenders on the majority of those worlds are perhaps a single PGC with a Trinary of second-line forces—except for Rondane. There are exceptions, of course. Both the Adders and the Wolves have a left an entire second-line Cluster on their planets, and a few PGCs to support them, but by and large, there are ten BattleMechs, twenty-five Elementals, a hundred vehicles, and six hundred twenty-five conventional infantry defending those depots. It worries me.”

“Can you order them . . .” Nikolai was cut off by Yvonne’s laughter.

“Nikolai, you know I cannot. Their garrisons are an internal matter to their Clans, and they will not stand for my suggesting other than what they have deemed sufficient.” She frowned and then nodded sharply. “But I am quite happy to see you bring that force forward—even if some feel that you are breaking your bid even before we hit atmosphere. Is there anything else I should know about?”

“I have already reassigned the Striking Claw Naval Star to Rondane as well, my ilKhan. They should arrive in the next four days.”

The former Falcon Khan laughed. “Nikolai, you are at times a delight, and at times exasperating. I hope that we have no need of your battleship, but if we do . . .”

“Aff, my ilKhan. If we do, Requiem is close at hand.”

[masterarminas]

CGSS Serket
Star’s End, Near Periphery
July 18, 3043

The Ghost Bears had wasted little time on the surface of Nova Cressida; the Khan’s proclamation of moving up the date for the invasion had spurred the Clan’s Warriors to achieve their goals at a blistering pace. It had helped that less than five thousand men and women called the planetoid home—the vast majority of them slaves who had been abused and tormented for years. The Bears had executed over seven hundred of those on the surface—the ones who had inflicted that pain and suffering, and Nikolai had seen the videos of the former slaves weeping with joy at being told they would be taken to a safe world—a civilized world.

Another flash of light preceded the explosion of an armed asteroid as the Goliath Scorpion’s flagship entered the range of its laser batteries. Bypassed by the Ghost Bears on their approach to the planet, Star’s End was strewn with weapon emplacements on seemingly random asteroids and pieces of cosmic debris. Amanda Tseng had activated the Scorpions and asked him to ‘take care of the problem for her’; and Nikolai had been most happy to oblige. All of his WarShips had spread out and were eliminating the weapons platforms one-by-one; within the hour the final strong points would be crushed. Which left only the JumpShip Yards that Serket was approaching. Fit only for repair and maintenance, not actual construction, the Yards were a hodge-podge of mis-matched machinery modules interspersed with habitations and grav decks and cargo bays and other vital equipment. Just from the looks, they must be a nightmare to keep running—and were far too fragile to move even if they were equipped with docking collars.

Which left only one option available to the Scorpion Khan. “Star Colonel Arbuthnot,” he said quietly.

“Yes, my Khan?”

“Broadcast a call for the surrender of the Yard. Hopefully, whoever is over there knows that they outmatched and far outgunned and will not choose to commit suicide. If they do surrender, send our Elementals across to evacuate the population—and obliterate those Yards completely.”

“Sir?” the commander of his flagship asked in shock.

Nikolai smiled, and he nodded his head. “It cannot be moved, it requires far more resources to maintain than it is worth, and I will not leave it behind to provide a base of support for future pirates, Star Colonel. Unless, that is you are volunteering for a transfer aboard to overhaul it to our standards, quineg?”

“NEG, my Khan!” Arbuthnot quickly relied, and Nikolai chuckled.

“If they do not surrender?” the naval officer asked.

“Then they will have made their choice and we will honor their decision—either way I want no component of that yard remaining intact or operational.”

“Aff, my Khan,” he answered and returned to his station passing orders to his subordinates.

Another officer entered the flag bridge buried deep within the armored core of the heavy cruiser, and he bowed his head in salute. Nikolai smiled. He had offered Nelson Elam the post of his aide, and a slot within the Knife Dance Keshik in an attempt to wipe away the shame of his lost Trial against the Wolves—and the young man had accepted. “Khan Tseng’s shuttle is on final approach, my Khan,” he reported.

“Good. Show her to my stateroom, Nelson; I will be there in a few moments.”

Nikolai turned back to the holotank and watched the final weapon emplacement defending the yard erupt under the fire of his flagship and he nodded. And now the game is afoot.

************************************************************

“You wanted to speak face-to-face, Nikolai?” Amanda asked after she took a seat.

“I did, Amanda. You and I have an opportunity here.”

“An opportunity?”

Nikolai smiled. “The ilKhan moving up the start of Wave I provides us with a chance to show every other Clan our worth,” he said.

“I notice that you keep saying ‘we’ and ‘our’, Nikolai. What are you proposing?”

The Scorpion activated a monitor built into the bulkhead of his cabin, and it immediately showed a map of Corridor Epsilon—the one assigned to the Bears with the Scorpions in reserve. “Seven systems were assigned to Delta for Wave I: Outpost, Skallevol, Balsta, Svevlik, Leoban, New Bergan, and Hermagor. According to the plan, you will be hitting Outpost, Skallevol, and Balsta on the 24th, Svevlik and Leoban on August 4th, and New Bergan and Hermagor on August 14th. Then we have twenty-five days—until September 8th—until we launch Wave 2. That delay is built in to allow us time to resupply, evaluate our attacks, and pacify the general population. But what if we need more than twenty-five days to that on New Bergan and Hermagor? Your assault on Rasalhague is scheduled for September 8th—any delays on those worlds, or Svevlik and Leoban—could push you behind schedule.”

“I know you argued for a longer period between the Waves, Nikolai, but the ilKhan has spok-. . .”

“I do not think we need more time, Khan of the Ghost Bears. I am suggesting we hit all seven of the worlds in our corridor on the 24th, giving us forty-five days to pacify those worlds, resupply, restock, and claim the lead in this race.”

“All seven, and in only six days? I have sixteen Clusters, Nikolai; that leaves me with no reserve, other than your Scorpions.”

“Activate my Scorpions, Khan Tseng. We will hit all seven worlds—simultaneously—eliminate the defenders, pacify them, and be ready to race ahead. After all, the ilKhan has not forbidden any Clan from launching their next Wave ahead of schedule if they are prepared and ready.”

“Only because you and Marion and Ulric have pushed us hard to ensure that there is a period of time to catch our breath between leaps. Still,” the Ghost Bear Khan mused, “it is easier to ask forgiveness than to request permission.”

“And it would infuriate the Jaguars, the Vipers, the Falcons . . . and the Wolves. Amanda, your Clan has always been one of our most conservative—in thought as well as deed. But beneath that careful, cautious exterior, the Bears are perhaps our greatest thinkers. We have the supplies to do this. We have sufficient Warriors to accomplish this goal. And we have the strength to take them at a run. Let us, for once, throw caution to the Wolves and show all of our fellow Clans the truth of the matter—that they cannot take for granted neither the Bears nor the Scorpions.”

“No other Clan is activated their reserve this early—it could look like cowardice, Nikolai.”

Nikolai smiled. “And when you launch Wave II on August 29th ten days ahead of schedule and seize Rasalhague while those other Clans are still fighting on Wave I worlds? What will that show, Amanda? You know you will have to activate the Scorpions eventually. Why not now—at the very start? In the Homeworlds, we share worlds with our enclaves, so why not here and now? I will divide up my Galaxies to reinforce your own—and together, we have the strength and the will to take all seven of our Wave 1 objectives in a single blinding leap. And that will make the others sit up and take notice.”

Amanda stared at the map, but her eyes kept drifting towards Rasalhague. “If we do this, the expedition to Hermagor will have to depart tonight—at the latest.”

“Aff.”

She nodded. “The orders will be have to drawn up fast, Nikolai. Have you . . .”

She paused and laughed as Nikolai changed the monitor display to show a briefing room where his full staff was assembled.

“I should thank the ghost of Kerensky you were not born a Jaguar, Nikolai. With you in command of that Clan, I think you would just jump straight for Terra and rip out its throat.” She stood and nodded briskly. “I hereby officially activate your Reserve Clan, Khan Djerassi. Shall we start our planning session and the bidding?”

“Bargained well and done, Khan Tseng.”

[masterarminas]

Sanctum of the Primus
Hilton Head, Terra
July 18, 3043

The two ROM bodyguards from Mu carefully shut the doors behind Myndo after she entered her private quarters buried deep beneath the island off the coast of Carolina. She lowered her hood and walked over to the sideboard setup in the parlour, where she poured herself a glass of red wine. And she jumped in shock as a voice broke the silence.

“Your plans have failed, Primus.”

Myndo turned around cursing at the wine stains on the front of robes, and she snarled. “How did you get in here?”

The adept rose from an overstuffed wing chair facing the flickering fireplace and he turned to face the Primus of ComStar. “Here at the heart of ComStar, Primus, who pays attention to a simple Adept of the Order? Did I startle you?”

“Thomas, I haven’t the patience for your games this evening,” Myndo growled as she ceased trying to wipe away the stains—but she had only succeeded in marring more of her robes. “What do you want?”

“To inform you that your plans have failed, Primus.”

She stopped, and looked up at the misshapen, horribly scared man, his features half concealed by the hooded robes he wore. Not even the cybernetic prosthetics which had been surgically implanted could restore his full range of movement—the explosion and fire which nearly killed him had been that severe. “Failed, Thomas? I have provoked the Clans of Kerensky into a conflict with Hanse Davion from which the FedCom will never recover—the Kuritas as well will be destroyed, leaving only our favored Free Worlds League and ComStar to pick up the pieces from the ashes and rebuild. When they have all bled themselves white, then we shall move and finish their destruction. I have not failed; I have fulfilled the promise of ComStar. We shall have peace in my time.”

“No, Myndo, you have failed. Your bomb will not kill the ilKhan—I have seen to that.”

“Explain yourself,” she whispered in a low growl. “And you will refer to me by my title, Adept Thomas.”

“Myndo, did you think that I, Thomas Marik, would never discover that it was not my cousin who planted that bomb on Atreus—but a ROM agent acting at your direction? Did you think that I would never ferret out that my injuries, although severe, were not as crippling as you had hoped for? That you ordered my surgeons to purposely maim and scar me, to prevent someone with the knowledge I possessed from assuming the role of a Lord of a Great House? Hmmmmm?”

Thomas walked over to the side board and he poured himself a glass of wine, and took a sip. “It was a bold plan, I grant you that. But then I lived. And too many people within ComStar knew of that for you to quietly kill me. But then you made your mistake, Myndo; you replaced me with a double, implanted with my memories, a double that you believed loyal to you. You are wrong—I am Thomas Marik; he is Thomas Marik; and we have always been loyal first and foremost to ourselves. You kept me alive, even after your duplicate replaced me; as a court jester, perhaps. Condemned to a lowly rank, and shuffled back and forth among the Divisions here. I was seen as nothing more than your plaything—an object of derision and horror to be ignored as harmless. That was your mistake, Myndo.”

“I do not know where you are getting this disinformation, Thomas, these lies,” Myndo said slowly, with a pleasing smile on her face. “You know this is not true.”

“Ah, Myndo, but it is. While you have cast your vision on the broad picture, I have been working on the details—you will find that ROM is no longer yours, but instead mine. I have full access to the confidential files—and I spoke with my surgeons at length before they died under my interrogation.”

“So it is revenge you want?”

“Actually, I was content in my role as a hermit monk, safe and hidden in the shadows. I never wanted to be Captain-General; I had a vocation, you well know, and I only wanted to serve Blake and humanity. I was content, until I learned through my connections of what you intended to do—the conflagration you planned to ignite. That is not serving humanity, Myndo. You condemn millions of the innocent to death for your own personal gain—that is not the Will and Word of Blake.”

“It is too late, Thomas, you cannot stop this.”

“I already have, Myndo,” Thomas said sharply. “My agents were aboard your ship when it departed Terra two years ago. They had orders to ensure that your device would not get within a thousand kilometers of the ilKhan. There will be no holocaust amongst the civilians of the Inner Sphere in response to what you attempted.” He paused and took another sip of wine. “And that was when I realized that you must be removed, Myndo Waterly. You are ill, and I wish you to receive care from medical professionals in an environment where you can injure none—not even yourself.”

“I AM PRIMUS!” Myndo screeched, and she hit the panic button concealed within the folds of her robes. In answer, the guards at the door burst in, their weapons raised. “KILL HIM!” she spat.

Thomas raised one hand. “Lower your weapons and return to your post, Adept Caleb, Adept Lars. The situation is well in hand.”

The ROM agents slowly lowered their weapons as the Primus stared at them in shock. “As you command, Primus,” they answered and closed the door behind them.

Thomas chuckled and he shook his head. “You always ignored the details in favor of the big picture, Myndo. I, on the other hand, have long been aware that it is the little cogs inside the machine that allow it to function. Step aside; you have my word that you will live out your life in comfort—but you will never wield political power again, Myndo.”

“NEVER!” she screamed as she pulled out a concealed micro-laser from her pocket and fired into the abdomen of Thomas, who grunted and staggered as the beam cut and burnt through his lower chest and abdomen, steam rising from the flash-heated blood. But the beam ended, and Thomas rose back to his feet, even as he pressed one hand against the horrific wound to keep his intestines from spilling.

Myndo tried to fire again, but the micro-laser held only that single shot. “You would have . . . fared better with . . . a slug-thrower, . . . Myndo,” he gasped. “Lasers that do . . . not kill immediately . . . depend on shock and pain . . . to incapacitate . . . their victims. I am . . . no stranger . . . to pain.”

He staggered forward, and Myndo turned to run, but Thomas grabbed her from behind, and she heard the wet sploosh as his intestines and blood dropped onto the floor. But his arms—the mechanical arms she had ordered the surgeons to fit upon him after sawing off the still intact living limbs—; those arms and hands still had strength, and they circled around her throat. She tried to scream, but she could only try to draw a gasping breath beneath their constricting hold.

“Perhaps this is for the best, Myndo,” Thomas whispered, as his blood pooled on the floor at his feet. “Given the power of your rank, perhaps I would have seen my soul transformed into something as monstrous as my appearance—I might well have become you. Let us die together, then.”

The last thing Myndo heard, as her sight began to gray was the crack of her vertebra as Thomas twisted her head with the last of his strength. And then both collapsed upon the floor. And the lights went out for the last time.

[LadyTevar]

Killed by her own schemes, dying helpless and powerless. I approve.

[masterarminas]

ComStar First Circuit
Hilton Head, Terra
July 19, 3043

“Primus Myndo Waterly is dead,” intoned Charles Seneca, Precentor-ROM. Of course, everyone present knew why the First Circuit had been hastily convened. “Last evening, she had a meeting with an Adept—her guards responded to the sounds of a struggle, but they were too late. Both Adept Thomas and the Primus were dead.”

“Thomas? That clown?” barked Precentor Atreus, Demona Aziz. “The guards must be interrogated and punished for failing in their duty to protect the Primus!”

Focht frowned, and he shook his head. “They responded quickly, Precentor Atreus. Yet you wish to subject them to torture and execution for an event that no one foresaw?”

“They failed, Precentor Martial! That is reason enough for them to suffer. Why was he allowed access to the Sanctum in the first place?”

Charles shook his head. “The Primus summoned him—and she dismissed the guards. The two apparently argued over some matter, and she managed to fatally wound him with a laser. Unfortunately, her body guards had only just entered the room when Adept Thomas broke her neck with his bare hands. They hesitated to fire for a split-second in fear of hitting the Primus accidently; her death was not caused by their actions or inactions.”

“So you say! They are your men, and they failed in their charge. All who fail must suffer the consequences!”

“I realize that I am new here,” spoke up Gregory Zwick, Precentor Naval, “but I must say that many of our personnel will resent seeing men who did their jobs and obeyed the orders they were given held accountable for the actions of others. Terror is all well and good, but unless you are planning on inciting paranoia within our ranks, it is often counter-productive.”

“You have no vote here, Precentor Naval! Hold your tongue, lest I order it removed!” Aziz spat, and Zwick’s expression darkened.

“You are not Primus, Precentor Atreus,” the Naval officer said quietly. “But you are welcome to try; I assure you that you will not care for the outcome of that confrontation, however.”

“You threaten me? Precentor Naval, I will have you torn limb from limb!”

“Precentor Atreus,” Sharilar Mori, Precentor Dieron, spoke up. “We are getting ahead of ourselves here. We must first have a Primus—afterwards, we can decide upon what to do with those who do not follow the Word of Blake.”

“Do not utter that holy phrase, Precentor Dieron; you pay only lip-service to your beliefs. Have you not argued time and again for the secularization of this organization? Ignoring ritual and tradition in favor of promoting those loyal to you?”

“All that I did, Precentor Atreus, was at the direction and order of the Primus—whom I served faithfully and completely. She was my mentor after all . . . but since you have raised the issue, yes, I support a loosening of the restrictions placed upon the members of this Order. Jerome Blake commanded that ComStar stand ready to act in defense of humanity; yet this Order has at times stood opposed to the restoration of civilization. And what for cause? Our own power? Our own arrogance that only we are able to lead the human race into the future?”

“The Word of Blake cannot be compromised! All will accept it or they shall perish!”

“And so you would start your reign with a purge, Precentor Atreus?”

“I will cull those unsuited for the Call of the Word of Blake from our midst, Precentor Dieron—starting with you.”

Mori just nodded her head pleasantly, as if Aziz were asking her to tea. The older woman’s cheeks flushed as the unspoken rebuke.

“Just because we do not advocate conversion of the unwilling by force, Precentor Atreus, does not mean we are less committed to the teachings of Blake,” calmly spoke Michael York, Precentor New Earth.

Aziz sneered. “You remain only on the First Circuit out of deference to your ancestor Hollings York, Precentor New Earth. You are secundus in this chamber, so I would advise you to remain silent.”

“And let someone as insane as you speak in my stead. No Precentor Atreus, I have remained silent long enough.”

“HOW DARE YOU!”

“How dare you believe that only your interpretation of Conrad Toyama’s alterations of Jerome Blake’s own words is the correct interpretation? You ignore that which prevents you from getting what you want, and impose the rest upon all other people, Precentor Atreus!” Michael answered in a fiery roar. “We have had enough madness and insanity in the robes of the Primus, and it will be a cold day in Hell before you ever wear those white robes!”

“HERETIC! APOSTATE! GUARDS! Seize him!” Aziz sputtered.

But the guards did not move.

Mori laughed. “Precentor Atreus, there is no Primus to command the Guards—they answer only to Precentor ROM at the moment—one of those you threatened to purge. Perhaps we should have the vote for Primus, so that we might settle this? Are there nominations?”

“Aye,” answered Precentor Tharkad. The old bespectacled man lowered his hood and gazed across the First Circuit with glistening blue eyes. “I name as nominee for Primus Michael York. He comes from a good line, he knows well the catechisms, and he bears the intelligence of his great-grandfather. He is healthy, and young, and well-respected amongst the Adepts.”

Precentor Bryant frowned. “He is too soft; I nominate Demona Aziz for Primus. She will restore ComStar to its rightful place.”

Mori nodded and then she smiled. “I call for the vote—and announce my support of Precentor New Earth.”

Demona whipped around and she only stared at Mori in shock. She knew that Mori wanted the title of Primus, but she was not contesting it with York—which meant that Aziz’s faction might not have the votes to put her in place. But Precentor Atreus was too slow, for a half-dozen voices seconded her motion.

In a matter of moments, the vote had been taken, and Michael York exchanged his yellow robes of a Precentor with the white robes of Primus.

“You have won here today, Primus,” Aziz spat. “But one victory does not win the war. I will return to my post on Atreus.”

“Ah, Demona. I am issuing an order in chambers for all of the First Circuit to remain on Terra until the Clan crisis is resolved. Your deputy on Atreus will have to handle the burdens of that distant station.”

“I AM PRECENTOR ATREUS! I have a sacred duty! And no one, Primus or other, can stop me from that duty!”

“Guards, arrest former Precentor Aziz; take her outside and shoot her,” Michael replied calmly.

The ROM Guards moved, grabbing the Precentor’s arms and they hauled her screaming outside, until a single gunshot silenced the woman. “Anyone else want to defy their new Primus?” He paused but there was no answer in the now silent chamber. “Good. We seem to need to a Precentor Atreus—Cameron St. Jaimais,” he said to the Demi-Precentor who served as Aziz’s aide. “You will not be receiving that post—guards detain him for questioning.”

A stunned St. Jaimais was hauled away from the First Circuit and Michael began to pace. “Precentor Martial, can you spare Trent Arian from his post?”

Focht frowned. “I’ve just promoted him to full Precentor and given him the 85th Division, Primus. He is an excellent officer.”

“Yes, he is. And he is a man I can trust—can you spare him?”

Focht bowed low. “As the Primus commands.”

“To hell with that blessed nonsense that deifies the Primus, Precentor Martial—yes or no?”

“Yes, Primus,” Focht answered with a smile.

“Good. Then I appoint Trent Arian as Precentor Atreus—unless the First Circuit objects?” Michael paused. “No objections. Good. Then we are adjourned—Precentors Martial, Naval, and ROM, please stay. I need a full briefing.”

[masterarminas]

ComStar First Circuit
Hilton Head, Terra
July 19, 3043

“. . . and that is the current status of our forces, Primus,” finished Focht.

Michael York frowned and then he shook his head. “Things could be worse, I suppose. Precentor Martial, I want your First and Second Armies to move out immediately to join with Jaime Wolf’s Grand Army on Tukayyid—but you will remain here on Terra to crack the whip over the rest of our command. Use whatever resources you deem necessary, but I want the remaining ten Armies ready for combat operations as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Primus. Do you intend to subordinate our forces under Wolf’s command? Primus Waterly refused to entertain such a notion?”

“The House Lords agreed to put him in charge of the Grand Army—it would be hubris to commit the equal of just six ‘Mech Regiments and demand operational control.”

Focht smiled. “It would indeed, my Primus. I’ll have the orders cut within twenty-four hours.”

“Good. Precentor Naval?”

“The Titan Yards are fully on-line and have six ships that they are currently working on restoring. Our Yard-Ships are assembled at the Naval Caches and are working to transfer ships to Titan. At the moment, we have managed to activate fourteen vessels, including the Dantes we had prior to this crisis, but not including any of the Yard-Ships themselves. I am currently flying my flag from the Cameron-class BC Invisible Truth, with the Sovetskii Soyuz-class cruiser Blake’s Vengeance as our only other heavy vessel. We do have all seven frigates back in service, along with five Lola III-class destroyers. We have designated the Congress-class Frigates Cleansing Fire and Hollings York,” and Gregory Zwick chuckled, as did the Primus, “as our training vessels. They have more internal room than the Dantes, or the Riga-class Fire Angel. That one was quite a surprise when we found her in the cache.”

Michael nodded. “Gentlemen, there is another military force which ComStar has access to—a force known only as The Blood. I have already issued them orders to report to Terra immediately. Precentor Martial, their ground component is the 331st Royal BattleMech Division, a former Star League formation belonging to . . . well, let us just say it plainly. They are the descendants of the survivors of Clan Wolverine—the ‘Not-Named’ Clan Jaime Wolf briefed the House Lords on.”

Focht inhaled sharply, and then he nodded. “Do they have Clan equipment?”

“No. They left too early in the timeline of the Clans to be have benefited from the research and development—but they are fully equipped with Star League era technology—including Royal BattleMechs.” Michael smiled. “And their infantry are completely outfitted with Nighthawk PA(L); no match for an Elemental one-for-one, but the 331st fields nearly 1,300 infantry troopers wearing them. Not to mention the six hundred and forty-eight BattleMechs, three hundred and twenty-four tanks, thirty-six mobile Arrow IV launchers, and one hundred eight aerospace fighters.”

The Precentor Martial whistled. “That is close to two full Armies in and of itself, Primus.”

“Yes. But we cannot use them against the Clans except in the most dire of circumstances—if the Clans discover the nature of the Blood, that the 331st Division lives, that the Wolverines still exist, they will stop at nothing to destroy them and us. Precentor Naval, the Blood also has a Naval Flotilla which is en route to Terra as well. This force consists of a McKenna-class battleship, a Texas-class battleship, a Quixote-class frigate, a Concordat-class frigate, and two Essex-class destroyers. Unlike the 331st, the Blood have managed to change the emissions signatures enough so that, hopefully, the Clans will not recognize these ships as being former Wolverines. I want you to retain the Blood’s battleships here, along with your training frigates to provide security for Terra, Precentor Naval. The rest of your ships will accompany the First and Second ComGuard Armies to Tukayyid. Sixteen new WarShips should give Jaime Wolf and the House Lords pause if they doubt the strength of ComStar, correct?”

The men laughed. “Primus,” asked Seneca, “how were you aware of the Blood?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t know, Precentor ROM—I am well aware of how close you and Thomas were. My family has known of the Blood since their arrival in the Inner Sphere so long ago. The colonized a world not far from Terra, one that fell off the maps in the aftermath of the First Succession War. Over the years, my family has served as a liaison to them, and I know them well. They will fight against the Clans, but realize that if their presence becomes common knowledge, it could well mean the end of all we are fighting to defend.”

Michael paused, and then he nodded precisely. “And there remains the small matter of those who will take affront with what I have done about Aziz and St. Jaimais. Precentor ROM, I want your ranks cleansed of those who will fight us—I want all of ComStar cleansed of them from the highest echleon of power to the lowest Acolyte. Understand me, gentlemen, I will brook no rogue elements within ComStar. In order to protect humanity, we must stand united as one. And if I have to kill a third of our order to do that, I am willing to pay that cost.”

“There are many in ROM who believe in the vision of Aziz and Waterly, Primus. This will weaken us,” Seneca protested.

“This too will pass, Precentor ROM. Precentor Martial, Precentor Naval, assist Precentor ROM if he requires it—but the rot will be removed before the body of ComStar becomes septic. Gentlemen.”

[masterarminas]

Headquarters, Grand Army of the Inner Sphere
Tukayyid, Free Rasalhague Republic
July 20, 3043

“You are sending me what, Precentor Martial?” asked Jaime Wolf, his eyes narrowing at the robed figure standing there in the holographic HPG projection.

“Primus York has authorized the ComGuards to join your Grand Army on Tukayyid, Supreme Commander. Our First and Second Armies will be joining you there within the next two months—along with elements of ComStar’s WarShip Fleet. I have included full details on the exact unit composition in a technical appendix.”

“Am I to presume that this contribution is only elements of your ground forces as well?”

“You may presume that, Supreme Commander,” Focht said with a wry grin. Then he sobered up. “ComStar has not committed military force in more than two centuries, Jaime Wolf. My personnel are undergoing extensive training, but the only ones in which I have confidence are up to your standards are the ones you will be receiving. Oh, and I have been informed by Precentor ROM and the Primus—Primus York—that Waterly’s decapitation strike was rendered harmless before it could infuriate the Clans.”

“So she is dead then? By your hand?”

“She is dead; not by my hand. She angered the wrong Adept, and she paid the ultimate price. Michael York is no Myndo Waterly, Jaime Wolf. We are now in the game, so to speak.”

Wolf slowly nodded. “Very well. We will expect your troops—but I will judge whether or not they are ready to join the Grand Army.”

“As you wish, Supreme Commander. They will obey your orders as if they were my own.”

“In that case, Precentor Martial, I have work to get ba- . . .” Jaime stopped as Focht raised one hand.

“There is another matter, Supreme Commander. Are you familiar with the Chainelaine Isles?”

“I know of them, but I am not familiar, no.”

“ComStar has received some . . . intelligence information from a source there. The Clans have seized them—two years ago, in fact—and using those systems as their supply depots for this Invasion.”

“Are they now?” Jaime softly asked.

“According to my source, they have even erected factory complexes brought with them from your Homeworlds—and are building up a massive stockpile of equipment and munitions.”

“Defenses?”

“Alas, my source’s access is limited—but I have included the complete information he forwarded to us in my report, Supreme Commander. I should note that he has positively identified elements of sixteen of the seventeen Clans you briefed us on. And he claims that the lower Castes speak of a Burrock Annihilation.”

Now Jaime Wolf frowned. “Sixteen, you said? That is more than I expected,” hoped for, rather, thought Jaime to himself.

“Whether they are here to actively participate or simply observe, I cannot say, Supreme Commander. But the information does present possibilities.”

“Depending on the defenses they have there . . . yes, Precentor Martial, there are certainly possibilities. Thank you, Focht.”

“As difficult as it might be to believe, Jaime Wolf, we are all on the same side in this fight. I have no more desire than you to live out the rest of my life as a slave to the Clans.”

Jaime Wolf laughed. “If you and I are caught, we will be executed, Precentor Martial. You need have no fear or worry of being thrown into the lower castes as the property of a Clan.”

“I will bid you a good night, then, Supreme Commander. The peace of Blake be with you.” And the display faded away.

Jaime turned to his aide. “Leadership meeting, fifteen minutes, main briefing room—pass the word. And pull all the information we have on the Isles.”

[masterarminas]

CIKS Victory
Star’s End, Near Periphery
July 22, 3043

Every member of the Clans in the Invasion Force waited as they watched the monitors set in the bulkheads of their WarShips, their JumpShips, their DropShips, their BattleMechs, their Aerospace Fighters. At precisely 2200 hours, the monitors showed a burst of static and then it cleared, revealing the ilKhan of the Clans.

From Rondane to Porthos, every Clan Warrior waited for her words with a held breath.

“Trothkin, hearken to the words of your ilKhan. Today is the day that we begin the Liberation of the Inner Sphere from those who robbed our ancestors of their homes. Make no mistake, our opponents are no cowards; they will fight us for every millimeter of land. They will do their best to kill us, to turn us aside, to make us be other than the Clans of Kerensky.”

“They will fail.”

“Sixteen Clans today will take part in the Return that the Great Father promised one day would come. We will all see combat before this is finished, but in the end, it is the Clans who shall hold Terra and restore until all of Mankind the rule of the Star League that should never have fallen!”

“Trothkin! We have trained, we have amassed supplies, we have honed our edge to a razor, and today shall that weapon you have become be unleashed. Each of your Khan’s has given you your orders—you know your objectives, and you will not disappoint the Founder’s whose blood flows within your veins.”

“There are but three last orders I must give unto you. First, the enemy we fight will break; they will attempt to flee. This must not be permitted—you are to engage their transport ships and not allow them a means of escape. We will prevent them from learning by having their survivors regroup and train new troops to face us. Capture those ships, if possible; destroy them otherwise, but strand each formation you fight on the world where they stand, so that they no choice but to face us.”

“Second, some of your opponents will be honorable. To these we will extend the courtesy of zellbrigen; but to those who act as dezgra you shall treat as dezgra. This is the order of your ilKhan—and all Clans shall follow it. We will not slake our anger at their warriors upon their civilians; we are better than that, trothkin. We shall turn our fury on those who earned it and annihilate them; without mercy, without remorse, without a second thought.”

Yvonne paused and she looked at the timer display quickly descending towards zero. “My final order, brothers and sisters of the Clans, is this: GO! Depart into the Inner Sphere, bid well, fight well, and seize from those who hounded your Founders from their own worlds Victory! Return with honor, or return not at all! Ship commanders, prepare to Jump to your target systems. VICTORY, my trothkin!”

And aboard more than five thousand DropShips, JumpShips, and WarShips, every Clan Warrior, across an arc of space measuring nearly a thousand light-years, returned her primal battle cry: VICTORY!

And the ships jumped.

[LadyTevar]

I like the new Primus.

[masterarminas]

Headquarters, Grand Army of the Inner Sphere
Tukayyid, Free Rasalhague Republic
July 25, 3043

Jaime Wolf carefully kept all expression from his face as he watched the board display quickly update. A swath of worlds along the Periphery border had seen their garrisons slowly reduced; pulled back deeper into the interior. On worlds where there had once been RCTs, perhaps a single combined arms battalion now stood in defense—plus the local militia, of course. But not on all of the worlds. Some of them, despite his pleading with Hanse Davion, Melissa Steiner-Davion, and Takashi Kurita were deemed too important to give up without a fight.

The Wolf had hoped to use this first wave to gather information about the invaders, relying on the local militia (and their new equipment) to bleed the Clans; along with the special operations forces charged with operating in the invaders rear once they had moved deeper into the Inner Sphere—but no plan survives contact with the enemy. And they are definitely the enemy, Jaime thought as he nodded.

One of his aides came up with the latest report and Wolf grunted at him sourly. “We have confirmations of Jade Falcon forces—in Galaxy strength on Barcelona, Bone-Norman, and Newtown Square. Before the HPGs went down, the 39th Avalon Hussars RCT were screaming for immediate reinforcements. We expected that, Sir, but we didn’t expect them to deliberate target the 39th’s JumpShips.”

Wolf frowned. “They engaged them?”

“They sent Elementals across and took them—by the time the ship commanders figured out what was going on, half their JumpShips were under Falcon control. The remainder attempted to power up and make a jump—but a Falcon warship blew the first three who tried apart; the rest surrendered, but the Flotilla commander managed to transmit his report before the HPG went silent.”

Jaime looked at the shocked faces of the commanders gathered in the room: JumpShips were the life blood of the Inner Sphere. NO ONE fired upon them, except in the most dire of circumstances, and even then, it was an action almost guaranteed to cost an officer his command. We—no, Jaime thought, I, dammit—I should have expected this.

“The Hell’s Horses have hit Apollo, Bensinger, and Somerset, while the Snow Ravens were reported on Anywhere and Here. Clan Steel Viper struck Icar, New Caledonia, and Toland. The Coyotes were landing on Alleghe and St. John when we lost communications.” The aide paused and he winced as he looked Jaime Wolf.

“The Wolves are attacking five worlds: Bruben, The Edge, Kirchbach, Lovinac, and Rodigo. The Ghost Bears also struck the worlds of Hermagor, Leoben, Outpost, Skallevoll, and Svevlik. Rasalhague confirms that the Goliath Scorpions are on Balsta and New Bergen, while Clan Cloud Cobra has landed on Holmsbu and Susquehanna.”

“The Star Adders hit five worlds as well: Constance, Damien, Jarrett, Pinnacle, and Thule; but Clan Fire Mandrill has hit seven: Almunge, Brocchi’s Cluster, Idlewind, Richmond, Rockland, Schwartz, and Turtle Bay. And finally, before we lost the HPG connections, the DCMS reported that the Smoke Jaguars were inbound to Bjarred, Stapelfeld, and Virentofta. And we multiple confirmed reports of them seizing or destroying state-owned and independent JumpShips on station.”

“In all, Supreme Commander Wolf, they hit forty-two worlds simultaneously in the Federated Commonwealth, the Free Rasalhague Republic, and the Draconis Combine.”

Muttered whispers circled the room as Wolf nodded. It exceeded even his worst case estimates; twelve confirmed Clans—and if the Precentor Martial had been correct there were four more. Wolf nodded as he considered the map and lines suddenly appeared separating the Clans into eight distinct zones, the bright red lines plunging towards the center of the Inner Sphere where they converged upon Terra.

“They must have two Clans assigned to each corridor,” he said slowly. “Knowing my former kinsmen, probably one active and one reserve Clan. The Falcons, Vipers, Mandrills, and Jaguars acted without their reserves—but every other Clan used them at least in part.” He paused and looked over the map. “I imagine the plan called for hitting three to four border worlds each, but some of these Clans appear to be moving faster. I’d expect of that of the Wolves, but it is curious that the Bears and Star Adders—two very conservative Clans—would have gambled in such a fashion. The Horse’s were slightly more cautious; but they too seem to be using their reserves to gain an advantage over the others.”

Jaime frowned, and then he chuckled. “The Mandrills probably didn’t even read the plan. They have seven Kindraa, and were assigned seven worlds, and no Kindraa will allow even the Mandrill Khan to order them to remain behind!”

“And your orders?”

“Unchanged, General Winston,” Wolf told the commander of the Eridani Light Horse. “Until these Clan formations are bled white, we cannot risk engaging them and losing the Grand Army. If we lose this force in a precipitous attack, we lose the Inner Sphere. No, for now we wait. We wait while our brothers and sisters out there bleed and die, and despite that we must hold firm until the time is right to bring our full strength to bear and throw a punch so devastating that it causes the Clans to reel back in stunned shock.”

“The Lords may not like that, Supreme Commander,” she whispered quietly.

Wolf snorted. “They usually do not like bad news, General Winston. I’ll deal with them; speaking of which . . .” his voice trailed off as another aide approached and saluted.

“Sir. Elected Prince Magnusson is demanding to speak with you immediately! Sir!”

Wolf nodded, then he turned back to the commanding officer of the Eridani. “Step up the training schedule, Ariana, while I pat a Successor Lord on his hands and tell him everything is going to be alright. It is a lie of course, but a necessary one. And . . . join me for dinner this evening. There is an operation I am putting together that your Light Horse might be well suited for.”

“Sir,” she answered.

Wolf turned back to the aide, and made a shooing gesture with his hands. “I know where the HPG communications center is, son. I'll be there in a bit."

"The Prince is waiting, Sir."

"And he can keep on waiting until I get there. Now return to duty, Leftenant; I do not need an escort inside my own HQ."

[masterarminas]

Knife Dance Keshik, Invasion Corridor Epsilon
New Bergen, Free Rasalhague Republic
July 25, 3043

“That was not part of their batchall!” A warrior in Nikolai’s command Trinary snarled. The Khan smiled at the righteous indignation of the young Star Commander.

“Aff, Star Commander Scott. It was not—but then we know that our enemy will practice deceit and outright lies in order to win; it was expected, quiaff?”

The chastised young man quickly responded. “Aff, my Khan.”

Still, it was intimidating, Nikolai thought. A horde of light vehicles was zooming over the far ridge ahead of the Keshik—two hundred plus six-wheeled, ten-ton armored cars, tearing up the sod and soil in rooster-tails behind them as they speed towards the Clan Cluster as quickly as a Locust could run. “Knife Dance Keshik,” the Khan broadcast, “they have broken their batchall and fielded forces not included in their bid—zellbrigen is hereby suspended. Engage at will. Star Colonel Myers—the 25th Cuirassier is needed; execute your drop. Star Colonel Dinour—I want the 8th Dragoons to screen our right flank; we haven’t encountering their actual bid forces yet and I would prefer not to be surprised while we are dealing with this.”

The Cluster commanders responded with a quick “Aff”, as the Knife Dance Keshik opened fire upon the STAGs rapidly approaching. An acronym for Single-crew Tactical Assault Gun-carrier, the STAG was an inexpensive, ICE powered, lightly armored, and lightly armed vehicle with tremendous mobility. Armed only with a six-tube SRM launcher and a machine-gun, it was woefully short-ranged; but when used en masse, it posed a clear and present danger even to Clan OmniMechs. But the weak armor was no match for the Clan weapons—and dozens, scores of STAGs erupted in balls of fire as single Gauss Rifle slugs, ER Large Laser beams, and ER PPC bolts tore through them, igniting fuel and munitions.

But the sheer numbers of the STAGs tearing across the landscape meant that some would enter range to engage the Keshik—or so it appeared. Lines of crimson and cyan fire lanced down from the heavens as a star of Scorpion Zulu-class fighters streaked by in Nap of the Earth flight mode; their lasers ripping through the mass of STAGs as all ten crisscrossed the battlefield—scores more of the armored cars exploded beneath the strafing runs.

Half of the New Bergen militia force was now dead or crippled, but still the remainder closed, and Nikolai nodded to himself as in respect for the bravery of those Warriors facing him. “Reserve Artillery Alpha—final protective fire grid coordinates 14-537-242; cluster rounds, one salvo.” He reached down to a touch screen monitor at his knee and he drew a box indicating where he wanted the fire.

The Star Captain commanding the Scorpion’s artillery reserves did not question the order, even though the coordinates were just meters outside the danger zone of the blast and fragmentation from the ‘Mechs and Elementals of the Keshik. His only answer was, “Shot,” and Nikolai turned his attention back to the wave of vehicles, triggering his own ER Medium Lasers and LB-10X autocannon upon three who had gotten a shade too close for comfort.

Clouds of SRMs blossomed from the lead STAGs, and Nikolai’s Summoner II quivered as the Anti-Missile System swiveled and engaged the lead flights. A hailstorm of tungsten slugs flew outwards from the front lines of the Keshik and missiles exploded prematurely—but not all of them. Explosions tore into his ‘Mechs and Elementals, but fully half of the missiles fired missed! A combination of the range, the evasive movements of the STAGs, and the generally poor gunnery on the part of their militia pilots.

“Splash,” a voice called out on his radio as the grassy plain in front of Nikolai heaved when twenty Arrow IV artillery rockets split apart to deploy hundreds of sub-munitions, each containing a self-forging high explosive penetrator at its core.

It was too much for the Rasalhagi militia-men. The survivors—barely sixty in all—broke and began to speed away, but the Knife Dance ran behind them, shooting them as they tried to evade. The lead STAG crossed over the ridge, it’s wheels leaving the ground as the pilot did not slow—and it exploded in mid-air as the retreating vehicles ran straight into the fresh medium, heavy, and assault-weight ‘Mechs of the 25th Cuirassier!

In moments, the last of the gallant militiamen were put down, and Nikolai took a moment to assess his status. Over half of his OmniMechs had suffered at least some damage—three had been destroyed by lucky hits. Seventeen Elementals were killed as well, and many of the survivors had significant damage to their armor—but he had eliminated two full Regiments of light armor in exchange.

“Knife Dance actual, Whip-Tail actual. Fortified line of infantry bunkers and vehicle defilade positions in the woods to your east. Estimate two plus regiments of infantry, supported by Axel, Vedette, and Scorpion tanks. Correction, they have artillery as well—receiving Sniper and Thumper fire.”

“Aff, Whip-Tail actual. Fall back on my position! Star Captain Suvorov!”

“Yes, my Khan?” the pilot answered.

“Recon pass, one point, wood-line to the east of this ridge, back to the fens,” he said as his finger sketched out the flight path he wanted. “Find those artillery pieces—your Star is loaded with cluster and inferno bombs?”

“Aff.”

“Set the woods ablaze, Star Captain. Star Commander Baba, follow her in and hammer the woods with your full load. Reserve Artillery Trinary—engage in counter-battery fire!”

“Aff.” "Aff." "Aff."

“Knife Dance Keshik skirt the woods to the south—25th Cuirassier to the north. Whip-Tail, advance head-on once the bombing run is completed.”

“Aff.”

The Scorpions moved out quickly and precisely as eight Zulus screamed past, loosing their drag-retarded bomb loads over the woods. Blossoms of inferno gel erupted in smoky plumes as the cluster bombs tore apart the trees and vehicles—and the dry underbrush and timber ignited in a firestorm. A firestorm that grew in intensity as a full star of heavy-weight Huns followed, unleashing their own bomb loads and pouring PPC fire blindly into the thick wode.

“Scorpion OmniMechs advance into the fire! Elementals move to engage the artillery!”

The OmniMechs moved in through the blaze, trusting in their heavy heat sink loads to deal with the flames. The entire forest was criss-crossed with interlocking bunkers for infantry, razor wire, dug-in positions for tanks, and mines—but the New Bergen Armored Brigade had not expected the sudden incendiary attack from the air. Entire companies of infantrymen were cremated where they stood as the white-hot gel showered down upon them; the mines detonated from the heat; the vehicles were blackened and burnt out—but it was only the first line. Had the militia stayed in their defenses in the second and third lines, they might have slowed the Scorpions—but panic set in amongst them and they abandoned the fortifications to flee. And were cut to ribbons by APG and cluster LB-X fire, even as the internal combustion tanks exploded at the touch of heavy energy weapons.

“Knife Dance actual, Gamma Recon Lead—eight Thumper, four Sniper at grid coordinates 15-214-100. Supported by heavy tanks and missile carriers.” A dull explosion resounded over the radio. “And air-defense. Returning to base to refuel and rearm.”

“Aff, Gamma Recon Lead. Reserve Artillery Alpha—pour it on that target until you exhaust your munitions, then return to the DropShips and reload.”

“Aff.”

“Star Colonel Myers, I want the 25th to take those artillery vehicles at the run—recover your Elementals and eliminate them. Star Colonel Dinour—break into stars and form a skirmish line to uncover additional ambushes. Your target is the capital city—do not stop unless you run into overwhelming resistance.”

“Aff.” “Aff.”

“Knife Dance—press the attack against these tanks! Do not let them escape!”

Nikolai pushed his Summoner II forward, his weapons spitting death towards the fleeing Rasalhague tanks and infantry.

Not bad for two hours work, the Khan thought as he pressed the throttle forward to the stops.

[masterarminas]

Resistance Cell, Estwyk
New Bergen, Clan Goliath Scorpion Occupation Zone
August 18, 3043

“How can we fight them, Gunthar?” asked one of the men gathered in the basement of the former nobleman’s home. “They destroyed our defenses and militia in a single day! And now they have brought down these . . . these Constabulary units, and they are everywhere!” Lars Nielson raised his arm, and pointed out the codex he had been issued. “And all of us have to wear these things; they might be able to track us with them!”

“Our fathers and grand-fathers fought the Kuritas, Lars; we can and will fight these Scorpions,” Gunthar Hitchens answered calmly. “New Bergen’s people won’t forget that these occupiers are not of Rasalhague—they will fight, and they will resist.”

A third man snorted. “And they will die, Gunthar. Have you paid no attention to what this Clan has instituted since they arrived? They outlawed all existing currency, and replaced it with these so-called Scorpion-bills. But they are not bills; no, everything is now electronic, through this codex they have forced us wear. And they provided a 1.5-1 exchange on existing saving accounts and people voluntarily turning in their currency! Their Khan met with the leaders of each city, and told them of how other Clans treated their new conquests—he frightened them into accepting Scorpion rule with nary a protest! It has not helped that he has tread but little on the people here—and he removed all charges for education and health care!” Erik Storn, shook his head. “Other than a few changes in the laws that govern us, they have done nothing to provoke the people of New Bergen—except the removal of nobles like you from power.”

“Aye,” the fourth man spoke up, an older man who had fought for Rasalhague independence. “These Scorpions do not attend our services or join the congregations, but they have made no effort to shut down the kirks. He has promised that any integration into their caste system will be slow—over a generation; and while some resent wearing a codex, for others it is less of a burden than all of the associated papers and wallets we used to carry—especially under the Snakes. They brought in twenty-thousand of their own civilian castes, and are upgrading our infrastructure. Every home will have power, they have promised; every child will be educated to the limit of his ability to learn. And they have done away with all of the conflicting laws and regulations passed by the Elected Prince! They even retained our local magistrates and sheriffs; and I need not remind you of how the women reacted when they rushed Magdalene’s daughter into surgery and saved her life—then shot the hospital administrator who had turned them away because they couldn’t afford the treatment!”

Erik snorted, as he quoted Nikolai Djerassi. “All Scorpions will have whatever medical treatment they need—and you are now Scorpions. Putting profit ahead of health care is an evil we have long done away with!”

Lars nodded. “You believe that will not resonate among the people, Gunthar?”

“I built that damned hospital—I have the right to earn back what I invested!” the nobleman snarled.

“Yes, you do,” the fifth man said calmly. “But you won’t until we force these Scorpions from our world. We need people—angry people—who are willing to die for the cause of liberty. And I know where we can secure the materials for bombs.”

The old man winced. “Olaf, indiscriminate bombings will kill our own people as well.”

“Yes. They are peasants and collaborators—but we can blame it on the Scorpion reprisals. If we play this correctly, we can incite the entire city to rise up and overthrow them once their forces leave.”

“At least some of their Constabulary will remain, Olaf,” warned Erik. “And I think you may well be overestimating how willing the average New Bergen is willing to cast away this . . . egalitarianism the Scorpions espouse. ‘Among the Scorpions,’ Khan Djerassi says, ‘a man holds high office or great power not because of birth, but through merit. All Scorpions have the same opportunity to rise—or fall—depending upon their quality and character.’ Many here didn’t like the nobility that Magnusson installed—they would prefer trying a new system that doesn’t rob them blind at every turn.”

“Then they are traitors!” Gunthar thundered. “My family earned its place; my House was charged with New Bergen as our fief, and I will be damned if I just give it up to the unwashed masses!”

Erik glowered at the former ruler of New Bergen. “If you had not ordered the militia to attack them in a foolish cavalry charge—a head-on assault!—and let them encounter our fortifications instead, we might not be having this discussion.”

“It was a sound plan, Erik—General Stavanger agreed.”

“Stavanger is dead; we have only your word for what he agreed to, Gunthar. But I believe the plan was to ambush them at close range, melt away, and repeat it again and again and again—only you got impatient and demanded the 3rd and 4th Volunteers sweep away the invaders. I heard that from your own former butler.”

“And so? I paid for those militia—I paid for those useless vehicles! And if they have been worth a half c-bill, they would have crushed this so-called Khan. They outnumbered him four-to-one!”

Erik winced and the old man shook his head. “Numbers do not equate to victory, Gunthar. I served my time in the Rasalhague Regulars of old—I know well that fact. You do not.”

“And your time is well past, Hans. Go back to the nursing home, and let real men lead this resistance,” Gunthar snapped.

The old man’s blue eyes turned ice-cold and he glowered at Gunthar with such force the younger man looked away.

Olaf cleared his throat, and the tension in the room slowly ebbed. “The hospital will be our first target—bombs will destroy the main part of the building, but we will ‘discover’ the paperwork that shows the Scorpions are sterilizing our people in the ruins.”

Hans spat on the floor. “You would kill our own people, to regain your power? Both of you are monsters, and I will have nothing to do with this.”

“Take care, old man,” snarled Gunthar. “You are either on our side, or you stand on theirs! Lars? Erik? Are you with me and Olaf or not?”

Lars slowly nodded his head, but Erik shook his and he stood beside Hans. “No. We will resist the Scorpions, but we will not kill our own people to do it. And neither will you three.”

“And how do you plan on stopping us?”

Erik smiled. “Lars was right. The codex each of us wear has a tracking device—and a radio transmitter. Mine has been active this entire meeting.”

Shocked expressions came over all four of the other men, but before another word could be spoken, the doors to the street above were kicked in and a stream of heavily armed Scorpion Constabulary flooded into the basement. Lars, Gunthar, and Olaf were quickly handcuffed and removed—neither Erik or Hans were so much as touched. The three noblemen were dragged outside, and their screams ended with the chatter of sub-machine gun fire.

And then Nikolai Djerassi walked down the steps into the basement. “I thank you, Erik Eriksson; I do not mind fighting with those who disagree with me,” he nodded to Hans, “but those who indiscriminately slaughter the innocent and unarmed are reprehensible and without any sense of honor.”

“I will resist you,” the old warrior said. And Nikolai smiled. “I look forward to it, Hans Petrovich. You two are free to go about your business.”

“You are not going to shoot us as well?” Hans asked suspiciously.

“Neg. I will shoot you if you act in a violent fashion against Scorpion rule—but today both of you stood up to them. I kill when I must, Warrior Hans, and when it is not required I do not kill. I take no pleasure in the deaths of others; especially the death of a former Warrior who has much which to teach the next generation. I could use a man like you—New Bergen could use a man like you, Hans Petrovich.”

“I think I will wait, Khan Djerassi. Perhaps your occupation will be short-lived.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. But in the meantime, you would deprive the youth of this world the legacy of your experience; you have much to teach—and not much time remaining to impart those lessons. If you reconsider, there will be a slot open for you in the New Bergen sibko that my Constabulary is organizing. Good day, gentlemen.”

And the Scorpion Khan turned, ascended the stars, and left.

“Erik,” the old man whispered, “I believe that our troubles are only just starting.” The younger man only nodded.

[masterarminas]

Goliath Scorpion Field Headquarters, Estwyk
New Bergen, Clan Goliath Scorpion Occupation Zone
August 20, 3043

The chamber darkened as Nikolai’s guards closed the doors behind them. The dim lights were to ensure that the holographic projections of the Khans forthcoming conference had the proper contrast, Nikolai—along with Randall Posavatz, his saKhan—waited patiently until the projector sprung into life.

One by one, the images of his fellow Khans and saKhans appeared, along with the ilKhan in their center. At last Yvonne nodded sharply. “Wave I is now officially completed. Wave II will commence on September 8th. I was somewhat taken aback by the lack of organized resistance—many of the units that Silver Sable reported on these worlds are gone, Khan Djerassi; quiaff?”

“Aff, ilKhan Hazen. I warned this Council that the information on these worlds in particular was three years old—and thus subject to change.”

“So you did,” she purred in answer. “There are number of matters which require our attention today; first, Khan Crichell you requested leave to speak.”

“Thank you, ilKhan. I wish to protest the manner in which the Adders, the Bears, the Horses, the Mandrills, and the Wolves have disregarded the operational plans to date! They struck all of their worlds on the opening day of the Invasion—casting the remainder of us who followed the plan as overly cautious. Further, all of those Clans—except the Mandrills—activated their Reserves! What folly is this?”

“The folly that has us ready to launch Wave II today, Khan Crichell,” answered Ulric Kerensky. “ilKhan Hazen, the operational plan for Revival called for the invasion of those worlds on or before the date listed. We simply went before the date—and hence had a greater amount of time to pacify these worlds than the Falcons, Jaguars, or Vipers!”

Khan Andrews shook her head. “You showed yourselves as cowards! You admitted to every other Clan your weakness by relying upon your Reserves in such a fashion—ilKhan I demand that these Clans be censured—and their Invasion zones divided amongst the True Clans of Kerensky!”

At least half of the Khans and saKhans present laughed. Marion Truscott shook his head. “The Steel Viper does not seem to realize that no such censure would pass—and as our ilKhan has repeatedly said in the past, whether or not an active Clan makes use of its Reserve is at the sole discretion of that Clan! My Khans, this is an internal matter, not one worthy of the Grand Council!”

“Indeed,” added Ulric Kerensky. “And there is true business to discuss here. Khan Tseng; as the world of Unzmarkt lies directly on the border between our Invasion Corridors, I claim the right to bid for its inclusion in the Wolf Zone!”

Amanda smiled. “Very well, Khan Kerensky. I will play your game, shall we start the bidding with my Delta Galaxy?”

“ilKhan! My motion has not been answered!” screamed the Viper Khan. But Yvonne only frowned.

“Control yourself, Khan Andrews—but the Vipers are correct. How do my Khans cast the vote: yea to censure the Adders, Bears, Horses, Wolves, and their associated Reserve Clans, or nay?”

After a short round of votes, it stood at 10 yeas and 22 nays—the Mandrills having, for once, having voted unanimously (perhaps in fear of having their own actions censured in turn), and joined by the still-in-reserve Diamond Sharks and Nova Cats. “The motion not being carried, there will be no censure of the Clans in question. Now . . .” she said with a smile as she turned to face Amanda and Ulric. “There is a bid by Clan Ghost Bear of one full Galaxy to take the world of Unzmarkt—how do the Wolves respond?”

“We bid the Red Keshik, the 11th Wolf Guards, and the 4th Striker Cluster!”

Whispered mutterings circled the room, for the Wolves response was half that of the Bears, but Amanda was quick to reply.

“Jorgensson’s Keshik and the 68th Striker Cluster.”

“Trinary Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Delta of the 4th Striker.”

“Bargained well and done, Khan Kerensky,” answered Amanda. “I wish you success.”

Ulric smiled.

“The Wolves have added Unzmarkt to their Wave II assignments—with a bid of four Trinary to take the system,” Yvonne proclaimed, and she shook her head as the Viper Khan again rose. “Khan Andrews?”

“The Vipers bid Trinary Alpha of the 1st Viper Guards to claim Ridderkerk from our shared border with the Wolves—we also bid Trinary Alpha of the 2nd Viper Guards to claim Winfield from the Horses!”

Now, there was a sharp inhalation of air—one Trinary might be enough; if those worlds had not received reinforcements. Yvonne’s eyes narrowed. “You have bid well below the cut-down, Khan Andrews—I would advise you not to endanger the Invasion.”

“It is my right! And my Vipers need no tricks nor a reserve to gain victory!”

“Khan Kerensky?”

“We offer no bid—the Vipers are free to take Ridderkerk if they are that committed to it.”

“Khan Fletcher?”

“ilKhan, the Horses will not challenge the Vipers at this time. We reserve the right to invade the system if the Vipers fail in their attack, however. Take that world, Khan Andrews; take it and choke upon it.”

“I will show you how a true Clan fights!”

Fletcher laughed. “I hope so, Khan Andrews—my latest intelligence from our scout ships in system indicate that Winfield’s Brigade has returned to their home system. They are an elite Regiment under the command of Leftenant General Davis Winfield; you will be facing no mere militia.”

The blood drained from Jillian Andrews face. “You did not inform us of that!”

“You hardly gave me time, Khan Andrews. You have bargained . . . poorly, Viper.”

“Enough!” barked Yvonne. “Khan Andrews, you have won the right to assault Winfield; you will conform to your bid—or your will face the Ebon Keshik in battle. You have the option, however, to request hegira from the minefield in which you find yourself—I would suggest highly that you do so.”

“No! We will take that world; the Steel Vipers do not fear these . . . barbarians!”

Yvonne shook her head, and even ardent Crusaders were staring at Jillian Andrews in disbelief. “My Khans, are there any additional matters to discuss today?”

Amanda Tseng cleared her throat. “I would inform the Grand Council that Clans Ghost Bear and Goliath Scorpion will be launching Wave II on August 26th—two weeks earlier than the deadline presented.”

Shouts of protest rose up, but a few Khans—Ulric, Jake, and Marion nodded their approval. “ORDER!” bellowed Yvonne. “I would advise you against this course of action, Khan Tseng, Khan Djerassi—but it is your Invasion Corridor. Will you hitting all of your targets again, quiaff?”

“Neg, ilKhan. We will be striking against Rasalhague with two full Galaxies of Bears supported by a Galaxy of Scorpions. The remainder of Wave II will proceed on schedule.”

“Three Galaxies? Rasalhague is a capital world, Khan Tseng, but three Galaxies?” sputtered an incredulous Khan Showers.

“Aff, Khan Showers. They will have certainly reinforced their capital—and I shall take no chances in this contest.” Amanda smiled at Jillian. “While I am confident of my Warriors—and those of Khan Djerassi—to seize this world with far less strength; I am reminded of one of the Great Father’s saying to Nicholas Kerensky as he instructed the Founder in his youth: ‘It is better to have five hundred ‘Mechs you do not need, my son, than to need fifty ‘Mechs you do not have’.”

The conference was silent for a moment, and Nikolai smiled at Amanda, who nodded. She had used the old quote he had found for her after all. And at last, Yvonne nodded. “Very well—we will be watching. Any further matters of which to attend?” she paused, but no one spoke up. “We are adjourned.”

[masterarminas]

Royal Palace, The Triad, Tharkad City
Tharkad, Lyran Commonwealth, Federated Commonwealth
August 22, 3043

Hanse woke with a start, and he took a moment to catch his breath. The bed that he and Melissa shared was empty on her half, but he could see the faint illumination of light coming from her private study. He swung his feet out of the bed, and shivered as they hit the cold flagstones; he quickly found his slippers and then pulled on a warm robe that he belted tight against his taut frame.

He crossed the room and eased the door open, and Melissa turned away from a map hanging on the wall and smiled at him. “I couldn’t sleep, Hanse,” she said and she turned back towards the multi-colored image that highlighted the projections of the Clan’s next two waves. “Twenty more worlds—and we aren’t putting up a fight on any but a handful,” she whispered. “Thirty-nine lost members of the Commonwealth. We need to be doing more.”

Hanse stepped up behind his wife and he put his arms around her and held her tight. “We are, love. These Wave II worlds are lost—we know that. But each has some form of a defense; more really than we can afford. I know, I know, I was the one who insisted that the 39th Avalon Hussars remain in place to get a feel for the attacker—and we lost all of them. Right now, we’ve got elements of ten RCTs on those worlds, Melissa, every last one of them volunteers. They know they have to bleed the Clans.”

“Before they die,” the Archon whispered.

“Before they die,” her husband echoed in a whisper. “Wave III is where we really start the defense—fifty BattleMech Regiments, more than a hundred regiments of armor, two hundred of infantry, and seventy battalions of artillery. Spread across twenty-two worlds. And we have had the time to build the fortifications—this is where we stop them.”

“And if they break through?”

“They won’t.”

“If they do, Hanse?”

“We are assembling another force—an even larger force—at Pandora and La Grave. And those Regiments are getting the first of the new production straight from Hesperus II and Coventry and New Avalon and Talon/Wernke and Oliver. And all of the other factory worlds. And by that time, we will have done our job to bleed them—and then it is Jaime Wolf’s turn to go on the offensive.”

“I went to school with Davis Winfield, you know,” she said quietly. “He wanted to be a history teacher, but his father insisted he take a commission and carry on the family name. He’s one of your volunteers in Wave II, Hanse.”

“I know,” the Fox whispered and he kissed his wife’s hair softly.

“What about this operation General Winston briefed us on? Will it make that much of a difference?”

“Trust me, love,” Hanse Davion said, “if we can destroy their supplies in Chainelaine, it will be well worth losing all twenty of the Regiments we are sending with Ariana. It is that important.”

“So another forlorn hope?”

“They might have only garrison forces there, Melissa—they might not. But if they do, the regiments we are sending might be able to get in and get out—maybe even with a few DropShip loads of those supplies they have stockpiled. But for that operation, speed and mobility counts—that is why we only gave Ariana ‘Mech regiments, not RCTs.”

“And you appointed Stephen as the second-in-command,” she whispered back.

“Aye. He’ll bring back the Armored Cavalry if anyone can—and if he can’t he will give the Clanners pure Hell until they put him down.”

“Aunt Nondi is having a fit—I told her we needed to replace those four regiments in Wolf’s Grand Army. She still thinks the entire thing is a ruse and he is going to come after us.”

“He had the chance five years ago to kill all of us on Northwind, Melissa.”

“I know that—but I will let you convince Nondi.”

Hanse chuckled. “That woman hates me worse than the Clans, Melissa. If I told her Tharkad was cold, she’d go outside in a bikini just to prove me wrong.”

Melissa started to laugh, and then she punched Hanse in the ribs with her elbow—lightly. “Don’t make me laugh when I’m being serious!”

She leaned back into her husbands arms and she slowly nodded. “So this is how Mother—and you—felt in the 4th War?”

“Every time I’ve sent men to their deaths, I’ve prayed it was the last time, Melissa. Maybe this will be the last time I have to do this—you have to do this.”

“Amen,” she answered. And the two just stood there, holding each other in front of the map.

[masterarminas]

DropShip Knife Dance Alpha, Upper Atmosphere
Rasalhague, Free Rasalhague Republic
August 26, 3043

The Scorpion-class troop carrier shivered as it dropped like a stone through the upper reaches of Rasalhague’s atmosphere. But Nikolai was well used to such high-speed entries and he ignored the groans and creaks coming from the stressed structural members, the pops and snaps of equipment as the glowing outer hull tried desperately to shed its heat on those within.

The Khan ignored all of that and he waited until the static cleared from his display and showed that the DropShip had passed through the communications blackout of reentry. They certainly had spirit, he thought, as he watched the icons of Rasalhagi aerospace fighters and assault ships vanish from the small display—but they didn’t die alone. Bear and Scorpion aerospace fighter casualties were a full twenty percent higher than anticipated—and Nikolai fully expected their reserves were waiting for an opportune moment.

But WarShips were stationed at every known proximity point—although few JumpShips had been captured; instead they fled the moment that the Clans began to emerge. Good enough, Nikolai thought, that they are not here to evacuate their troops from the surface. A light on his command console suddenly glowed a brilliant crimson and Nikolai touched a control on the edge of the monitor; it retracted into a slot built obediently.

“Knife Dance Actual,” the voice of the DropShip commander called out, “we have another wave of Rasalhagi fighters inbound. Our pilots are engaging, but there could be leakers—we are dropping your forces early.”

“Acknowledged,” Nikolai answered as he tightened the straps which held him in place one last time. The red light began to slowly flash as the bay door covering the drop chute was retracted and the howl of the wind filled the bay. The Khan jerked as the machinery lifted his seventy-ton Summoner II and its cubicle like a toy and locked into place. A miniaturized systems schematic showed that four other OmniMechs were in position, along with the two fighters and ten Elemental infantry of his Command Trinary. Seven more OmniMechs waited their turn, and then the red light blinked rapidly three times and went out. An emerald light replaced it—and Nikolai’s stomach lurched as the catapult fired him and ‘Mech away from the DropShip at a sharp angle. The Khan kept his hands away from the controls as the computer automatically stabilized the OmniMech, plunging downwards with ever increasing velocity.

One after the other, the five jump jets fired in sequence keeping the ‘Mech upright and slowing its descent. Far above him, Nikolai could see faint traces of the crimson lasers burning outwards form the now so tiny DropShip, and in the distance there was a puff of smoke as a fighter—either one of his Scorpions or a Rasalhagi defender—exploded under the pounding of beams and shells. Then the ‘Mech plunged into the thick cloud cover and Nikolai could see nothing outside his red-lit cockpit but the drops of condensing water on the outer surface of his canopy. He was coming down far to the east of his assigned drop-zone, and it appeared that he would be the last to make rendevous. He smiled; no plan survives contact with the enemy, he thought.

The jets were firing for longer and longer durations, as the ground below rapidly approached, but his airspeed was slowing, Nikolai noted. Still, he kept his hands clenched tightly on his safety harness, trusting in the computer to do its job. The fuel gauges on the external tanks harnessed to his Summoner II were dropping precipitously, and now the jets did not slacken their full-throated roar. Suddenly a warning light began to blink as hostile sensors began to reflect off the surface of his 'Mech. Nikolai activated his Summoner II Primes ECM Suite and set his anti-missile system to auto-engage as he passed through 800 meters and exited the clouds.

“Stravag!” Nikolai cursed as he saw the collection of Rasalhague ‘Mechs and tanks beneath him. Now he grabbed the controls and adjusted his course to slid behind the shelter of a low ridge; thankfully, the Rasalhagi were as startled as he was! That didn't keep them from flushing missiles at him as he passed just within range, but the combination of the inclement weather (drizzling rain), the electronic screams of the ECM Suite, the range, and the rate of his descent towards the ground and away from the troops below combined to generate misses for all but one flight, which his AMS tore into with a vengeance. Still three surviving missiles made it through and started the 'Mech spinning as they struck the right hip.

Nikolai stood on his jump jet pedals and he pulled out of the spin, and slammed into the ground hard at a full run, just as the last of the external fuel was consumed. Almost without thinking, Nikolai cut out his jump jets and jettisoned the external tanks—and he brought his guns on-line, and launched a remote sensor pod. He activated the assembly beacon and it began singing the siren song to his trothkin as the Khan of Clan Goliath Scorpion took aim and fired an ER PPC bolt into the bow of the Patton tank adorned with the crest of Hansen’s Roughriders as it crested the ridge. These weren't Rasalhagi troops!

Four Warrior H-7 helicopters slid over the ridge further to the south, and they began firing burst after burst of light autocannon fire towards Nikolai as he continued to back up. The Scorpion swiveled his torso and pressed the firing stud, and the two surviving VTOLs quickly pulled back out of range. The console beeped, and Nikolai looked down at the information streaming across the telemetry feed to the sensor pod—which suddenly ended as one of the mercenaries shot it. Discretion is the better part of valor, he told himself firmly as he ceased backing up and fired his jump jets to clear another ridge—and saw with his own eyes the masses of ‘Mechs and tanks and infantry now forming up in pursuit, before he turned and began to run after hitting the ground.

“Knife Dance Actual to all Scorpion and Bear units. Confirm elements of at least six mercenary regiments on planet. Repeat at least six mercenary regiments. Rock Minders and Knife Dance Keshik form up on my location at grid coordinates 23-1074-441.” Nikolai transmitted the sensor data—including the unit crests of all three regiments of the Lexington Combat Group, the 21st Centauri Lancers, Narhal’s Raiders, and Hansen’s Roughriders.

“Knife Dance Actual, Ourse Actual,” Amanda Tseng’s voice came over the radio. “Golden Bears and Night Howlers are engaged with KungsArmee elements outside the capital.” She paused and then her voice came back. “That is thirty kilometers from your assigned drop-zone, Knife Dance Actual, quiaff.”

“Aff. We had to drop early and I was the first out of the DropShips—and landed the furthest east.”

“We are heavily engaged, Knife Dance Actual—do you require assistance?”

“Neg, Ourse Actual,” Nikolai answered as a Gauss slug slammed into the rocky ridgeline he was crossing; he jumped again, turning 360-degrees and his ER PPC spat a bolt that blew the turret off of the Vedette-class medium tank that shot at him! Hah! But he didn’t tarry. “I have five Clusters, Ourse Actual—if I cannot handle six regiments of mercenaries with that, then I need to die today.”

“Acknowledged, Knife Dance Actual,” Amanda replied with a chuckle. “Just remember what you told me about over-confidence—often enough it turns around to bite you in the ass. Ourse Actual out.”

Oh, Amanda, he thought as he weaved and dodged and stayed one step ahead of his pursuers. I am confident my Scorpions can defeat these mercenaries—whether I live to see it happen or not is quite another matter. An amber light on his console lit, and Nikolai smiled. “Reserve Artillery Alpha, I have a fire mission for you—FASCAM on my current position in line north-to-south, six salvoes, extend it for two kilometers,” his finger traced the box on the touchscreen between his knees. “Mark.”

“Shot,” replied his artillery commander. Nikolai smiled, the rest of his Scorpions should be massing just ahead of him.