Blood on the Horizon
- Chapter 74 -[]
<<Next Chapter - Return to Story Index - Next Chapter>>
Meeting the First Prince[]
Date: August 17th, 3007
Location: Davion Palace Complex - New Avalon, Federated Suns
I stepped into a strangely barren office. The only decorations were maps of the Inner Sphere from the beginning of the Federated Suns to now. Well, that and the racks along the wall with neurohelmet copies from the first ever made until today.
"Major Hull," a giant of a man stood and walked around the desk, a broad grin on his face. "It's good to finally meet you."
"First Prince Davion," I shook his hand firmly as I looked up at his frame. "The pleasure is all mine."
"Bullshit," he laughed. "You probably didn't want to come here at all."
He waved for me to take a seat and pulled a bottle of whiskey from a desk drawer. "How do you like your liquor?"
"I think I'd rather not," I declined. "I still don't even know why I'm here in the first place."
Ian Davion simply let the silence build for a second as he poured his glass and sipped it, spinning in his chair to look out the 'window' that had been rotating through various views of the cities on New Avalon.
"You're here because I owe you one," Ian said, slamming his drink back. "My brother-in-law may be a good spymaster, but he also hasn't been subtle in trying to get me to refocus on the Capellan Confederation instead of the Draconis Combine. Your group managed to convince him otherwise. The Big Mac is down quite a bit, and the Dragoons got their revenge after what happened on New Valencia. Whatever you feel like, work like that has to be rewarded and made public. We can't just let it fade into the background."
He poured another glass and then stood up and began pacing.
"I hate this political shit, but I have to do this one. I'd rather be on the frontlines, but unfortunately, there's too much to do here for once." Ian explained.
"So what do I need to do?" I asked, finally finding a point to speak.
"You need to make sure that when the Wolf's Dragoons get here, you get along with them," Ian laughed. "Can't have the two golden units of the moment at each other's throats."
"But enough with the political talk," he sat back down and leaned forward. "Reports don't do war justice, and given you weren't required to submit your full AARs for the Liaison to peruse, I haven't gotten the full story of what went down on Tybalt."
"Well, we started planning the operation as soon as we were made aware of the possibility of being shifted to an attacking force instead of a defending one…"
Take away Thoughts[]
Location: Outskirts of the Davion Palace Complex - New Avalon, Federated Suns
I left the Davion Palace complex and shuddered for a minute at the thought that I would have to return for some sort of political function in two days.
"I didn't think that Bobby B lived here," I thought back to my interactions with Ian Davion. "Seems like having a constant war was all he would have needed to make a half-decent ruler."
"So, what's the plan, Major?" Mathis pulled up in the armored vehicle, and I climbed in.
"Well, we have a favor that we have to spend on something," I replied, strapping in and indicating for him to take us back to the hotel we'd rented out for the next few weeks. "We don't get to bank it and use it later; it's for one use only."
"We're not aiming for a title, right?"
"Are you kidding me?" I asked. "I already have more work than I know what to do with. I don't know how I'd deal with a landhold or something similar."
"I'll have to send an HPG to the rest of the senior staff. See what the consensus is because I'm lost on ideas here. I've never dealt with nobles outside of Cunningham before this."
The rest of the ride was spent in silence while I thought about what to do with the royal favor I'd been granted.
"Major, I don't recognize those vehicles," Mathis said, slowing down and looking closely at everything.
"Neither do I," I leaned forward to try and catch a further glimpse of who had filled the parking lot.
When we got closer, we noted black uniforms with red trim and put our weapons away.
"It's the Wolf's Dragoons.," I laughed at the coincidence.
"They probably rented out the other half of the hotel," Mathis agreed. "This is the recommended one for mercs in this area."
We parked, got out of the car, and headed for the section we'd rented out. In other circumstances, I'd have tried to meet with Jaime Wolf or one of the other officers, but I had other priorities for now.
Too late to slip away[]
Date: August 19th, 3007
Two days later…
The party was… Uncomfortable, to say the least. While everyone was dressed in a military uniform or a more modest dress, I still felt extremely out of place. So, I stayed in a crowd that I knew best. If I thought I didn't fit in at these sorts of things, the Wolf's Dragoons certainly didn't fit in either. And as someone who knew of their origins, I understood why they wouldn't like this sort of song and dance.
Colonel, any chance we can just leave?" Natasha Kerensky asked. "There's not enough booze in the 'Sphere to make me want to stay here."
"You and me both," I agreed, sipping at the closest thing I'd found to a Dr. Pepper that I'd found in this universe.
Soon, though, the atmosphere seemed to shift, and Ian Davion arrived. For someone who didn't enjoy the political games, he certainly fit in better here than us mercs did, and it showed in his interactions as he swiftly made his way through the party and to the stage.
"I'm sorry to interrupt the celebration," Ian laughed. "But I figured it was high time that we get to the point of this celebration in the first place. And the reason for all of the cameras," he gestured to the few news crews that had set up shop. "We are here to award two mercenary units who have gone above and beyond for our great nation. Mercenaries that suffered losses and took on just as much, if not more, than our regular military units."
"The Wolf's Dragoons showed up a couple of years ago and took the Inner Sphere by storm, and they've performed their job admirably ever since, with this in mind and an understanding that logistics is one of the things that is always hard to maintain as a mercenary unit, the Federated Sun will be providing funding to Blackwell Heavy Industries. We understand you have partnered with them during your time on New Valencia. And we'd like to maintain a relationship with you even after you've left our service."
Jaime raised his glass in thanks and saluted as Ian let the applause fade.
"But there's one other unit we'll recognize today, one that only appeared a few years ago and tore out of the Taurian Concordat like a lightning storm. The Marksman (I understand Marksmen was already taken by a unit in the Outworlds Alliance.) are a new unit, but they've had a tremendous impact in a short time. They successfully managed to not only defend our worlds against Capellan attacks but also successfully counterattacked and took one of the Terran Corridor Worlds from the Confederation. In the process, they broke the 2nd McCarron's Armored Cavalry and allowed us to gain revenge for the damage inflicted on our worlds in their deep raid."
"Because of this, we are awarding their unit with a royal favor, and after much deliberation and discussion, it was decided to grant them precisely what they asked for. The Marksman didn't ask for more money or a landhold. Instead, they asked for something that I found extremely odd. They asked for a dozen DropShips sitting in our scrapheaps, waiting for salvage teams to come and strip them of their valuable components. Those DropShips are ancient, and while I don't understand why they want a bunch of old wrecks if they're willing to take the junk off of our hands, they're welcome to do so."
Ian joked a bit about the DroSTs and Black Eagles I'd found and asked for before continuing.
"But given they didn't ask for anything that we considered worthy of being a reward, we decided to grant one more thing to the unit. Since you asked for more DropShips, which are nearly falling apart, we cleared up time for them in the local shipyards. We may not do the refits you have in mind, but we can, at the very least, ensure that you're leaving with spaceworthy vessels."
While this may have sounded minor, clearing out priority time for a mercenary unit was almost unheard of. This must have cost the Davions hundreds of millions of pounds at the very least because they would have had to bump at least a dozen other companies down in the lists. So I stood, raised my glass in a toast to the First Prince, and thanked him loudly. I had avoided a noble title and had expanded my Aerospace capabilities.
Now, I just needed to find a JumpShip to load them all and send them to Concordat. But for now, there was a party. Given that dancing was coming up, it was time to exit. Before, mind you, I got dragged into anything that led to me getting married or propositioned in a way that I would respond to incorrectly and make an enemy of someone important.
Unfortunately, it seemed I was too late.
"I know you weren't trying to leave before I managed to even say "hello"," Hanse grinned at me, his arms crossed, and a pretty woman in a uniform standing beside him. "Come on, we've got to find you a dance partner and a couple of deals to work out."
"Of course," I gave a slight bow. "I assume this is your lovely girlfriend?"
"This is Major Dana Stephenson," Hanse glared. "She's my escort for the evening. Now, let's get you out onto the floor."