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Chapter 34 - By the Horns[]
DropShip, TCDS Black Bull
Zenith Point, Flintoft
Federated Suns
November 6th, 3025
“We managed to stop all but one of Michael’s units—the Sixth Syrtis Fusiliers,” Arden reported. “That is the good news, Edward. The bad news is that every one of his RCTs was assigned their own route to their targets . . . and Michael didn't share that information with the other commanders. On the plus side, we know when they expected to arrive at New Vallis; on the bad side that gives us seven routes through uninhabited systems to get there.”
Edward Calderon nodded as he considered the map. “And the briefing indicated that Cline’s Second Hussars have one of the jump points on one of those routes picketed—I presume that you are moving his Combat Commands Alpha and Charlie to cover two more of the routes?”
“I sent those orders immediately through the Flintoft HPG—Cline should be able to get into position to cover these three,” and Ardan pointed at three flashing lines, “well before Michael can make transit. But that still leaves four routes uncovered.”
“Four routes, yes,” Edward said with a sigh. “But we are forgetting something here—Hasek-Davion can choose to use either the Zenith or Nadir Point; well, he could also select a Pirate Point, but that is unlikely for such a large scale movement.” Ardan nodded. “Cline can only picket one of the two points—which means he can cover just three of the fourteen possible paths that your Duke of New Syrtis will use.”
“True . . . but what else can we do?” Ardan shook his head. “Even if your Protector gave us permission to picket New Vallis itself—which he won’t—that means we have to cover as many of the approaches as possible to have a chance of stopping Michael. Maybe we can get lucky here,” he whispered, even though he well knew that even adding his command to the routes would still give Michael Hasek-Davion a five-in-seven chance of slipping through.
Edward sighed again, and he sat down. “There is one chance that I see of avoiding the worst of this, Ardan.”
The older man looked over at Edward and he frowned. “Why do I get the distinct feeling that I am not going to like this chance?”
“Because you aren’t,” Edward snorted. “And neither is Hanse Davion.” The young man pointed at a chair, and Ardan’s lips twitched as he followed the unspoken command and sat as well.
“If soldiers of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns strike a Taurian world, my Father will go utterly ballistic, Ardan. He will recall me and he will end this chance at normalizing relations—and you won’t get a copy of the Core. Which would be a bad thing for the both of us—I might not trust Hanse Davion fully, but he is rather more trust-worthy than Max Liao or Janos Marik . . .,” Edward’s lips twitched, “and with the purse of the Lyran Commonwealth behind him, he has more to offer us financially than those two combined.”
Edward paused and he shook his head looking at the map again. Then he steeled himself and looked Ardan square in the eyes. “The key words here being ‘soldiers of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns’.”
Ardan inhaled deeply. “There are many officers and men in the ranks of the Sixth who remain loyal to the Federated Suns—and many who belong to powerful families, Edward.”
“As I said, neither you or your boss will like it—but it has to be done. Hanse Davion has to—publically—declare the Sixth Fusiliers as mutineers and renegades no longer associated with the Federated Suns. He has to declare that they are pirates, acting under no laws but their own. And he has to do it today.” Edward sighed again. “Today, Ardan. The news has to be circulated via HPG AND cross into the Concordat aboard a merchant vessel . . . which means that he has to make the announcement and distribute it to everyone. He can’t try and pull a fast one—he has to throw the entire RCT under the bus . . . if he wants the Core. There isn’t another way; not in the time-frame we have.”
Ardan shook his head. “Even if Hanse agrees—and I am not so certain that he will—Michael will land on New Vallis like the hammer of an angry god. And the Sixth Fusiliers are better than any unit you have—with perhaps the sole exception of maybe your First Battalion of the Taurian Guards.”
Edward nodded. “And New Vallis has only a Corps HQ and two BattleMech Battalions as its rapid-reaction force. Plus the local armor and infantry and the Constabulary—but those are barely even regular forces in terms of experience,” Edward said with a snort. “The regular Armor and Infantry have been thoroughly trained and spend a LOT of their time in the field . . . but they don’t ever rotate off-world and their combat experience is almost non-existent. Hell, even the 3rd Battalion of the Concordat Jaegers and the 1st Battalion of the Hyades Light Infantry have the majority of their combat experience in company-scale engagements against pirates—not in full-scale battalion or regimental operations. Whereas your Sixth constantly operates in at least battalion strength, and often enough in multi-regimental strength.”
Edward ran his hand through his hair. “Brigadier Tanis Verbet is the senior of the Battalion COs, but it is Corey Calderon,” Edward smiled, “yes, another cousin of my Father, Marshal Sortek; Corey is the Marshal commanding I Corps—and New Vallis is his HQ. Corey is pushing seventy—and he hasn’t commanded in the field for two decades. Tanis, on the other hand, she’s a devious sort and I wouldn’t put it against her to give Michael Hasek-Davion a run for his money.” Edward paused. “But she’s seriously outgunned. The Sixth has an entire reinforced regiment of one hundred and thirty-two BattleMechs, plus four regiments of tanks, six of infantry, a battalion of artillery, and eighty aerospace fighters—a full wing at the RCT level and one more for each of their ‘Mech battalions. If they are at full strength, which I doubt,” Edward drawled and Ardan nodded. “However, even at full strength Tanis would have just ninety-six ‘Mechs of her own—and just thirty-two ASF—to fight the Sixth Fusiliers; plus around five hundred tanks and around ten thousand relatively static infantry.”
“If she can draw him into a fight in the fortifications where our infantry and artillery are positioned, she might be able to win—but I don’t see your Duke or his commanders being that dumb, Ardan.”
“Gee, thank you, Edward.”
“No problem. No, once he realizes that Hanse has cut him loose, he’ll do his best to preserve the Sixth’s fighting strength—and take as much salvage as he can before he runs off to . . . well, somewhere else to live and fight another day.”
“Agreed.”
“So he won’t fight Tanis in range of her fortifications—he will make her have to come to him. And Corey, God knows I love him, but the man is a hard-headed ass almost the equal of the late Grover Shraplen, will order her to do just that because, of course, we can’t permit Davion boots on our worlds,” Edward continued with a wince.
“You can always nuke the Sixth on the approach,” Ardan said with a shake of his head.
“Eighty to thirty-two in ASF. At best, Ardan. Throw in another sixteen gunboats against your Assault DropShips . . . those aren’t odds I’d favor of getting into Alamo range,” Edward mused. Then he shook his head. “We might slip one or two nukes by, but we’d lose our entire air support in the process and the Sixth would STILL manage to land. And New Vallis isn’t New Vandenberg or Taurus—we won’t be popping out nuclear firecrackers on our own soil until and unless we have no other options, Ardan. And if he’s smart—and I think that even if he isn’t quite as smart as he thinks he is, he remains very smart—he won’t land in the area covered by the missile silos at I Corps HQ, which removes those from play.”
“You’ve given this some thought,” Ardan said softly as he looked down at the worried young man, who snorted again and began to chuckle.
“We Taurians have dreamed up nearly every possible scenario for a future Davion invasion—and we have contingency plans for each,” Edward said with a grin. “What happens to the calculus if we add another ‘Mech Regiment to Tanis and her forces? Actually, a Regiment, a Battalion, and a Company?”
“Oh, Christ,” Ardan muttered. “Edward Calderon, are you suggesting that I take my force and your body-guard and proceed to New Vallis? Thomas would utterly lose his shit at that. And where are you planning to get that other Regiment, by the way?”
“I believe that Wylie’s Coyotes are garrisoning Bromhead—it’s on the way. Did I mention that I am quite wealthy, Marshal Sortek?” Edward asked. “More than sufficient in my own right to hire the Coyotes even with a ComStar Interdiction . . . provided that Hanse releases from their contract early and a . . . trusted friend of the First Prince gives his personal assurance that I will pay them.”
“And my troops? Because your father will shit a brick if I land on New Vallis with a battalion of the Davion Heavy Guard.”
“That’s the second part of what you personally are going to hate—you all have to turn in your resignations, and become mercenaries. How does Ardan’s Avengers grab you for a name? Or Sortek’s Slashers?”
The older man winced. “Thomas will see right through this, young man.”
“Yes, my father isn’t an idiot, Ardan,” Edward barked right back, and then he forced himself to calm down. “But if we give him a legitimate excuse to officially overlook that you are really Davion troops and instead go with a fiction that you are all mercs? I can convince him to overlook that and your boss will get his copy of the Core.” Edward shook his head. “And if in the process of defending New Vallis, we utterly and completely kick the ass out of the vaunted Sixth Syrtis Fusiliers—that’s icing on the cake, Ardan.”
“What if your father doesn’t? What then, Edward?”
“Then he will have to disavow and disown me, Ardan,” Edward said simply. “Taurian law allows for an officer in the field to make decisions of great import—but he bears full personal responsibility for those decisions. If I am wrong, if my Father disagrees with me and this call, then he will have to publically renounce my actions. Strip me of all my lands and titles and wealth and . . . he will have to remove me as his heir. Send me into Exile. That is what I’m putting on the line here, Ardan Sortek—what is Hanse fucking Davion risking here? A battalion of house troops? A regiment of mercenaries?”
Ardan stared at the young man for a moment and then he nodded. “Foxhounds. I think I can live with the name Foxhounds. And yes, I do believe that I convince Enzo Wylie to accept your contract . . . my Lord Calderon.”
“See,” Edward said with a laugh. “THAT time you used it in the proper context, Ardan Sortek of the Foxhounds mercenary company.”