.png){kind=link}
Chapter 11 – Homefront[]
<<Next Chapter - Return to Story Index - Next Chapter>>
A Pressing Meeting[]
12/02/3051 | Tharkad System, Lyran Commonwealth
A COMSTAR white and blue Oceanic III Helicopter soared over the traffic snarled asphalt of the highways, and light gray concrete, and glass of a modern metropolis. It crossed the mighty New Danube where the LCAF’s 2nd Royal Guards patrolled the ‘Giant’s Walk’ that dominated the greenbelt between Tharkad City and Olympia. The military and police presence as well as civilian demonstrators grew more apparent the closer as the helicopter approached The Triad, the very heart, and brains of the Lyran Commonwealth.
It set down on the helipad closest to the Archon’s palace and a middle-aged man with a Precentor-Advocate amulet disembarked as soon as the rotors stopped spinning followed by three others. They faced Mount Wotan in the distance, the military mind and fist of the LCAF, as a half dozen men in dark suits and sunglasses crested the stairs, each one indistinct and unremarkable in their appearance, “Precentor-Advocate Casimir Bridges at your service, gentlemen.”
Each looked toward one another in turn their eyes concealed by sunglasses, and he knew the Diplomatic Guard had more concealed beneath their jackets, “Follow us, sir.”
His Mu bodyguards and Lydia, his Tau secretary followed, “No weapons or entourage.”
“You can take our weapons,” Isaac the senior Mu unholstered his laser pistol from his baldric, his junior Ezra followed, before they passed them to the LIC officers, “but we will not leave our Precentor’s side outside the HPG complex. He is a member of COMSTAR’s First Circuit and our responsibility.”
They spoke in Gaelic toward one another and over the radio, Casimir cursed silently, the only language spoken within the Commonwealth that he didn’t speak yet. “We will allow this, but do not push yourself Precentor, the Archon is very displeased with you.”
“Oh, I know, and I expect that to continue, Kapiten Mueller.”
“You should hope it shall not.”
Casimir gathered the hem of his formal robes and followed them downstairs, “Reality gets in the way unfortunately.”
Archon Melissa Steiner stood behind her desk flanked by her husband, Thomas Bradford, Duke of Coventry, and ‘Aunt’ Anette Steiner, Duchess of Somerset. Her hands were sprawled out over the printout of the Tamar March, now mostly occupied by The Clans. An urn of tea sat perched precariously on a centuries old gilded end table made from a tree now extinct beside them.
Her door opened at the touch of a page, “Archon, Precentor-Advocate Bridges and companions await you.”
Melissa stood up and checked her blouse for any stains or wrinkles, Anette confirmed she was presentable with a nod, “Admit them please, Dren.”
Casimir strode in before his entourage, his bodyguards glued to his back while the secretary looked serene and remained utterly silent. “I am here as you requested, Archon Steiner. What can the Blessed Order of COMSTAR do for you?”
She took in a deep breath and walked over to him with courtly grace, “How about you start telling me the ****** truth!”
Demanding the Truth[]
Casimir took a deep breath after withstanding a fusillade of foul language in four languages. Lydia seemed to astonishingly kept up with it on her stenography tablet. If she would talk, he was certain she could tell some stories. “Madam Archon, I understand your displeasure.”
She snapped toward him close enough that he felt Ezra move as if to block a punch from her with his own face if necessary. “Do you really, Precentor?! Then clearly transmit it to the Primus and confess. Why didn’t COMSTAR tell us this would happen?”
“COMSTAR was unaware that this would happen.”
“Is that so?
“Do you think I am a fool, Casimir?”
Melissa pulled out a pair of folders stamped with the desk seals of the First Prince of the Federated Suns and Chancellor of the Capellan Confederation and slapped them beside her map. “I received two missives by jump courier from Ian and Tormano inquiring as to why the White Star Fleet was heading Anti-Spinward in September.”
Anette’s face was suddenly filled with worry, “Just as Somerset and the others went off-line. Which means you knew in advance what was coming, and you didn’t tell us. Why?
“Was it so you could take advantage of the charter rates?
Up thirty times what they normally would be, every dropship and shuttle is overbooked solid in the arc from Winter to Laurent.
Each filled to the brim with the wealth and pampered asses of corporate bosses and their key personnel. It sickens me, but without the HPGs I could not impress Merchant Spacers to the LCN’s service to force them to take more passengers.”
Thomas finished his drink which certainly didn’t look like tea. “And so many of them are heading to Coventry since Prince Magnusson closed the border. It’s a bloody mess, Precentor.”
“One I would like to assure you that COMSTAR is moving to handle. We are mobilizing humanitarian relief through the League, any spare space on COMSTAR vessels is to be allocated to civilian evacuation as per my command. COMGUARDs are being mobilized from Terra to secure our HPGs and along with the CSC will help the LCAF however we can.”
“Giving us forewarning would have been a greater help than anything your Precentor Martial can muster now. Roman is not only worried sick about Sarah but I’m certain he hasn’t slept in a month.”
“We didn’t know where they were coming from, how many there were, or their purpose, Archon.”
Lydia activated her holoprojector built into her hairband which showed a montage of the Explorer Corps investigation into the disappearance of their base on Columbus. Everything was eerily silent but neatly in place within the holocube except for one book in the library but the footage was to blurry to make out the writing upon it.
“We first encountered them on Columbus, coreward of the Draconis Combine, but they left nothing behind, even abducting hundreds of our mission personnel. This is why I requested the region near Elissa be prepared to evacuate should they come under attack. Precentor Antonov of Rasalhague did the same. Our duty is first to our people, then to the Inner Sphere, and that requires us not aid any enemies to the Inner Sphere.”
“Except yourselves.” Melissa whispered so quietly that even his enhanced hearing had trouble discerning it.
“The only things we know about them are because of Phelen Kell and his companions reports to Mimir. Precentor ROM Seneca has sent agents to Outpost, but it will take several weeks perhaps before they can debrief him properly.”
“We don’t have weeks Precentor and tell Charles to save his headshrinkers. Morgan is already en route to recover him and if the Kungliga Flotten wants to fight the Kell Hounds to enforce their blockade then best of luck to them because I can tell you personally that is man that is not used to taking no for an answer.”
She shuffled through a mismatched batch of reports and pulled one from the stack, “The whole of the Wolf's Dragoons has also arrived on Solaris, but you probably knew that because you hired them.”
“We didn’t hire the Wolf's Dragoons, Archon.” Casimir folded his hands and lifted his brow, “Their presence is not unexpected, but it is curious.
Perhaps they are here at the request of the First Prince. We are aware that he has had… difficulties …on his border with the Draconis Combine in recent years, not even limited to Luthien either.”
“Despite being an only child, I am aware of family struggles, Tormano has told me quite a few very disturbing stories.
However, Ian would have told me if he intended to send regiments of mercenaries into my realm.”
“Then I suppose we should jointly find out why they are here, what they want, and how they intend to aid us, unless it is some manner of betrayal and whatever they are is related to these Clans in some manner.”
Melissa’s eyes were icy cold, “I suppose we shall then. We are in this fight together now.
Keep me in the loop Precentor Bridges, unless you want to face a different one…
and a long drop.
You are dismissed.”
He bowed slightly, respect, not reverence, as far as COMSTAR is concerned they were equal.
“Until we see each other again then, Archon.”
Pressing Questions & Plans[]
12/08/3051
A screen shows Precentor-Advocate Casimir Bridges walked behind a phalanx of Mu bodyguards and PST (Tharkad City Police Department) as reporters across the Commonwealth assailed him in Tharkad City. His limousine sandwiched between Polizei vehicles, and a pair of white Chevalier tanks marked with ‘COMGUARDS’ along the flanks in blue with the Upward Sword of Light logo (of the COMGUARDS) on the glacis.
“Precentor Bridges, did you know that the Clans were coming!?”
“Can you give us a statement about what COMSTAR is going to do to help the Commonwealth?”
“Are you working with them?”
“The public demand answers!”
Hilton's Head - Terra, ComStar Space
The screen turns black at the command of Ranking Precentor Sigma Tulla Samaras and the windows open to the unsettled Atlantic Ocean off Hilton Head Island. “Do we have answers, Primus Waterly?”
Primus Myndo Waterly paused to scan the room, the Ranking Precentors from COMSTARs ‘civilian’ branches waited for her. “Nothing that will satisfy them.”
“Then give me something, anything, Primus. The whole Inner Sphere is crying out for information.
The Order’s public relations are my priority. If we leave the people of the Inner Sphere in the dark on these important matters, they shall distrust us and that could lead to our ruin. Our reputation cannot take another battering like it did after the Capellan Civil War.
Archon Steiner has quietly and possibly indirectly instituted a smear campaign against the Order. We need to get ahead of her, or the damage will not just be limited to our egos.
We need to do something big and public to show that we are truly providing support to the Lyran Commonwealth.
Let me tell them about the Precentor Martial’s preparations.
Give me access to Precentor Commodore Beresick at least!”
“You will provide no comment on our military preparations Precentor Samaras. Focus on humanitarian support instead.”
“That won’t move the needle, Primus. The Lyran Commonwealth has a vast Jumpship fleet of their own and wealth enough to rivals ours and purchase supplies. What they don’t have are Warships or the ability gathered over generations to arm and sustain millions of soldiers.
With what the Precentor Martial is planning it will come out eventually. Let me at least control the release of this information, if we don’t do it then others shall, and we look foolish.”
Myndo once more to a moment to think and walked over to the window, “You all have similar concerns I gather.”
The other ten Precentors assembled nodded or otherwise signaled that they did. Primus Waterly rested her head on the window glass, “I presume you already have plans as well. Let me hear them then and maybe we can begin implementing them.”
Unpopular Duty[]
12/12/3051 | Boulder, Hot Springs, Clan Occupation Zone
The city of Boulder was filled with streets and people that seemed to be carved out of the basalt itself. Bridges gracefully spanned canals bustling with boats and greenbelt filled with wildflowers bursting with color. Two figures in goldenrod outfits marked with Nova Cat or Merchant and ilClan (Red Daggerstar) logo walked each of them in turn knocking on every door they came across.
One of them a lithe woman paused to sit on the stone wall, remove her sandals, and dip her feet into the canal. She rolled up the bottom of her shirt like the other women seemed to do within this city and began to feel some relief. “Why do they have so much space between residential units? My feet and this heat are killing me.”
Patrolman Kech loomed over her drawing attention to himself even within a city filled with impressive specimens. More importantly he wore Aketon soft armor with its integral cooling, hydration, and medical system in addition to mounts for his pistol, magazines, and radio. “You had the option to bring a cooling vest with you, Indigo.”
“It was going to be too heavy for walking around in all day in. Not all of us grew up in one. I need to get a dress like these local women have, they look comfortable even in this tropical heat and humidity.”
“I received my first Aketon in Sibko. Should I requisition an umbrella to provide shade?”
“No, I can manage.” She drank for a canteen on her belt, “You have worn armor and grown a hundred and fifty centimeters since Sibko.”
“I am only two point two meters tall. Small even by Nova Fox breeding ranges. There are numerous other Freeborns just within this city that are larger than me and pose a potential threat to our safety.”
“Or opportunity, Kech.”
“Perhaps you think of them that way.” A group of men passed them by carrying heavy tools he presumed were used for shipbuilding, “I was trained to see everything as a threat until proven otherwise. Are you ready to continue?”
She splashed some canal water onto the cloth wrapped around her head, “What is the rush? We just started this Census.”
“Mobility is paramount to our security. The threat of hostile action has not yet been negated.”
“Fine. I guess there will be more time to enjoy the view later.” Indigo donned her sandals then stood up; her head barely reached to his upper torso. With her free hand she massaged the back of her neck, “Working with you since yesterday has given me a crick in my neck.”
“I can suggest exercises to strengthen those muscles, improve your posture and walking performance.”
“Maybe we talk about that later, big guy.”
They crossed the bridge, Indigo consulted her chart and knocked on the door, a middle-aged man answered, “Good Afternoon, I am Junior Merchant Indigo, and this is Patrolman Kech of Clan Nova Fox. We are conducting a Census in this area.
Are you Doctor Solomon Goddard presently employed by the Institute for Advanced Studies in Physical Therapy?”
“I am.”
Indigo checked a box on the sheet and flipped it to show an information card on his household, “Can you confirm this information?”
Doctor Goddard hesitated, “Why? Are you going to use it to calculate my taxes and rent too?”
Indigo sighed, “Why do they keep talking about taxes and rent, Kech?”
“I do not know, Indigo.”
“We really should suggest a large announcement and mailing campaign.”
“It would dramatically improve our door-to-door efficiency.”
“What are you two talking about? This is why governments do Census right?”
“The Clans do not charge taxes or rent. Your profession suggests you will be assigned a position within the Scientist cache whenever we get around to proficiency testing and caste integration.
Thus, you will be allotted a space, probably the one you currently reside in, to serve as your primary residence area and appropriate utilities to maintain it and the members of your household.”
“So, no taxes or rent?”
“Aff," She pushed the clipboard closer to him with a pen in the other hand, “please confirm this information so that we may continue.”
Making Preparations[]
12/22/3051 | Odessa, Lyran Commonwealth
Wind blew up loose debris around sleek Beacon aerodyne dropships and bulbous Mules resting on the ferrocrete. A late spring rain threatened Odessa III’s primary star-port situated upon open arable plains beyond New Bealton. Dozens of stormy blue-gray painted tanks drove off ramps positioned at the open cargo doors of their freighters. ‘COMGUARDS’ was painted in matte white on the track skirt with the upraised Sword of Light, symbol of the formation, upon the glacis. Drivers waited at the staging point in pristine white helmets and gray tanker’s uniforms ready for a parade. There was to be no parade this day however instead wheeled tank transporters waited for the machines to be loaded upon their backs then driven to the unusually well-equipped planetary militia’s training grounds.
.png){kind=link}
Mule Class Cargo DropShip
Three white helmeted and gloved officers viewed the assembly by binoculars maintaining order and controlling traffic via a large radio set upon a metal folding table. “Road train Six-Eight-One is approaching from the south, Drivers One through Ten go to assembly point Orange.” “Roger that Commander. Moving to assembly point Orange for loading.”
Two individuals in white robes approached them from behind, one of them stood behind a woman with an unloaded carbine slung behind her back. “Carol, the last time I saw you with a gun is when we were fleeing the Baron’s men on Timehri.”
She turned to look at and embrace her brother, “Jared, last time I saw you was six years ago, before you left for Terra.”
“It is probably better that way sister.” Jared brought attention to the Rho insignia on his robes. “When did they start taking teachers into the COMGuards?”
“When we started volunteering.
COMSTAR is unlimited, its strength lies in encouraging the faithful to reach their full potential.”
He looked at the insignia on her jumpsuit and ‘Summers,’ their last name, stenciled upon it, “Tank Commander?”
“I was the only one that could fix and ride grandpa’s tractor.
Back when we had a family farm,
and a family.”
They looked down and aside, “That was a long time ago.”
“I know. Apparently, operating a tracked vehicle is like riding a bike. I passed the test, so they gave me a tank to command.”
“What brings you here brother?”
“Secret project, although my superiors allowed me a day of liberty to see my sister. I had expected to see you teaching the Neophytes however.”
“I suppose I still am. They assigned me to training new drivers for now until we have gathered enough forces, or the Clans arrive above Odessa.”
Jared gave a mischievous smile, “I do hope they come, we have a surprise in store for them.”