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Book 2, Chapter 17 –
Hold the Bottom Line, United by One Paycheck[]
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Conference of the Elites[]
Arc-Royal, Federated Commonwealth (Lyran State)
01/18/3052
The Grand Hall of House Kell had worn many different styles in the family’s time on Arc-Royal, but it had never been an Interstellar War Room. WolfNet operatives, well-compensated private intelligence analysts, and a small contingent of LIC and LCAF Military Intelligence gathered beneath or behind displays showing streams of information and downlinks from COMSTAR’s HPG in Denton.
A roof-mounted holoprojector, normally reserved for spectacle within the ballroom, broadcast the present strategic situation through the cigarette smoke from a man wearing a tan leather flying jacket with a flaming Ace of Spades playing card patch over a generic blue formal-ish (for a Mercenary) looking uniform, tapped it into a Kell Hound branded ashtray, “Where’s your old man, kid?”
Phelen Kell stood up straight in his red and black formal uniform, bronze colored lieutenant bars shining, “I do not know, Colonel Tanaga.”
Ranna Kerensky sat with the commander of the Dragoon’s Epsilon Regiment, Diana Pryde sat beside Yorinaga Kurita, he in lotus, her seiza, both spoke softly to one another over tea, as observers. Kai and the Field Commanders of both Kell Hounds regiments, Colonels Akira Brahe and Daniel Allard sat alongside one another leaving a space open for him.
Brevet General Ariana Winston and Colonel Charles Antonescue was in a deep discussion over some packet with Seamus Casey and Ariana Stirling of the Northwind Highlanders. An empty space near the lead table was left for the 12th Star Guards who had likely been destroyed on Wotan when The Clans invaded rather than abandon their post and mission as so many others, including those who sat on the Estates General, had. Blue Star Irregulars' Colonel Alexander Duff-Gordan who sat adjacent to it with his subordinates had insisted upon it.
First Gurka of the Northwind Highlanders had been given the honor of guarding the assembly. The heavy Kukri blades at their sides, tilted jungle hats, and genuine Mauser 960s (from Diana) reminding their charges of the formation’s ancient roots. They opened the door to admit Hanse Davion flanked by a pair of Khaki-clad Federation Marshals, Patrick ‘Playboy’ Kell and Morgan Kell, followed by Jaime, Mackenzie, and Maeve Wolf before closing them just as quickly.
There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence as Hanse Davion took a seat near Yorinaga Kurita, the man who had killed his brother in battle. Yorinaga was however serene, focusing on the proceedings and etiquette, even if the Marshals kept a close eye on him, and his sword. The Kell Brothers and Wolf's Dragoon Command Trio sat at the head of the room.
Duke Morgan Kell stood and walked between the tables shaking hands or otherwise exchanging greetings with each attendee. He stood on a slight pedestal before the assembly and the holoprojected image in the center of the room. “Truly, I thank you all for coming to Arc-Royal. When Jaime and I began to discuss the Allied Mercenary Command I was not certain what would happen. I surely did not expect to be invaded by an alien civilization from the stars. Nor did I expect them to originate from the Aleksandr Kerensky’s Exodus Fleet.”
Morgan dismounted and played back the initial wave of The Clan’s invasions filling in the volume within the image, dozens of other worlds blinked red showing the present raiding campaign being carried out by Clans Mongoose and Nova Fox against the Commonwealth’s Periphery March. However, they had stopped moving almost two months ago and the AMC was certain it wasn’t because they wanted to wait until after the holidays.
“Yet here we are.” A rough ovoid shape appeared on the holograph its borders overlapping with Arc-Royal, Coventry, Alarion, Halfway, Pherkad, and Odessa. “and Arc-Royal is on the leading edge of what General Roman Steiner has dubbed the ‘Iron Egg.’ Facing them regardless.”
Chuckles arose from Phelen and the more junior officers, their seniors remained silent but amused smiles escaped faces carved of stone or cast in metal.
“The Clans have stopped at Deia to consolidate their gains, redeploy, and resupply themselves. Though they still conducted long range raids in the Periphery March, but only control an area starting from Main Street to Windsor then terminating at Tamar.
Roman thinks that centering our forces in this way will allow us the sally forth and prevent further advances. At least until we can come up with a coherent grand counter-offensive.
Right now, we must limit ourselves to what is at hand. Remove what and who we can from no-man’s land and refit ourselves with the Dragoon’s advanced tech.”
Colonel Grayson Carlyle of the Gray Death Legion stood up, “Why are we waiting here then and letting them consolidate gains? We are on the leading edge; some of us should be attacking or doing something about these raids.”
“I agree Gray, but the Clans have Warships.”
“So do the Dragoons,” everyone looked at the Dragoons strangely, Pryde’s covert debriefing had circulated in well-connected circles, included within was the fact that the Dragoons were initially Clan spies, and that it had gotten their Clan killed and almost ended the modern Clans. “and COMSTAR, but even they can’t have enough to be everywhere.”
“None of them have enough but they do have more independent aerospace units than Warships, especially the ilKhan Mongoose. We need to be cautious and strike with plenty of air cover or they will shred our dropships without hesitation. They know that is a big advantage that we will have difficulty overcoming.”
Colonel Tanaga gave a satisfied head tilt, “That is why I’m here after all. Can’t wait to fly off those Dragoon Warships. It’s gonna be beautiful.”
Morgan looked over to Hanse and Yorinaga, “We must give the politicians enough time to reach a consensus.
Melissa is working Precentor Tharkad and his HPG everyday jockeying up support from the Great Houses and attempting to pressure the Estates General.
Chancellor Liao has sent the Jie Fang Legion and two Warrior Houses, but his empire is still putting itself together, we can’t expect much from him.
Outworlds Privateers have found their way into Commonwealth space at the request of Melissa, to raid Clan Merchant commerce while infiltrating and supporting small units once we pair them with fighter cover.
First Prince Ian has sent his Federated Suns Lancers forward with his father and is attempting to wrestle away more units from his relations among the March Lords. They are presently on Pherkad.
Shockingly this morning, it was confirmed that Princes Hohiro Kurita and Andrew Davion will be guests of Primus Waterly above Venus next month to discuss ‘normalization’ that could free up more AFFS units from the Draconis March.
Princess Consort Corrine also seems to be working her father over quite firmly from what I can see. However, as Prime Minister he must abide by the Free Worlds League's Parliament, which is skeptical given the number of Lyran nobles that fled from their worlds to hide on Tharkad.
I can’t say I blame them. While it is a coincidence that we are staring down the Clan frontlines we all know how they act, and we are getting them to pay through the nose for our services.
In advance.”
The Mercenaries let out a cheer, they were betting their lives, and fortunes on the survival of the Lyran Commonwealth, and the continued value of its Kroner.
“Until Roman can sort out the LCAF’s internal problems and ready them for a counter-offensive, it is up to the AMC and COMSTAR’s Precentor Martial Photon Brett and his secret yet somehow giant ****** army to hold the line.
Everyone in this room hasn’t fought in thousands of battles on hundreds of worlds throughout the Succession Wars to let someone else invade it and take over.
These Warriors think War is their life.
It’s our jobs.
We chose to be Warriors and we got good enough that people pay us to do it for them.
In this room are some of the brightest,” He eyed Ariana and Grayson, “most motivated,” Dan and Akira, “professional,” Seamus and Andrea, “and cold-blooded,” Alexander and Hohiro, “Warriors in the Inner Sphere.
If these Clans want my homeworld or to kill my friends and family.”
Morgan eyed Diana in the corner beside Yorinaga, “They must go through me,
and us!
We are going to make them pay, one way or another.
Now let’s get to work AMC. We’ve got a lot to go over,
and time is money.”
Hard at work Training[]
01/20/3052
Knucklehead Training Grounds were filled with noise, steel rang across the many small arms ranges, explosions erupted from the heavy weapons ones, fighters roared overhead strafing at mockups or bombed old tanks with dummy bombs. A deep bassy thrum could be felt when the armored forces of the AMC rolled across the ravaged plains of pretend battlefields.
Ranna Kerensky lifted her M&G automatic as she stalked through the pop-up course, double tapping each silhouette and fast reloading after the eight rounds were up to do it again, and again, and again, until it was pure instinct. The training felt familiar and not just because the Kell Hounds copy-pasted the Tetsuhara Training Grounds of Outreach onto these plains. It took her back to a simpler time during Sibko.
Phelen Kell was there at the starting point with a scoped AM-36 assault rifle that had canted iron sights for CQB and all-around smart design. Made by the Gray Death Legion on Glengarry it had become the standard in the AMC, even if it was a bit pricey. He was putting a trio of magazines into his armored vest, “I could see the Jade Falcon stickers on those targets Ranna.”
She looked down to hide her flush sticking more 10mm rounds into her pistol magazines, “Were you pointing a loaded rifle at me, Phelen? In violation of range rules.”
“I did not have a magazine in it. Was originally just looking at your butt.”
“Again?” Ranna unconsciously brushed dust off her pants as she returned filled magazines and pistol to her belt. Phelen could never stop being himself and she secretly hoped he wouldn’t. Life in the Dragoons was frequently grim, particularly now, so some humor helped. She knew that Phelen would always do his best to come through in any difficult situation even if he made light of it later.
“Always. You look good.”
“My technique or me?”
“Both.”
They both stood by the break area while another fireteam used the range, “I expected you would have found someone different after we parted.
I did not expect to see you again.”
Phelen leaned his rifle against a wooden coil core, arms crossed as the other shooters worked their way through the course. “Going to be honest with you. You are the only woman I have spent any time with that has not almost gotten me killed yet. Even my mother and sister have worse records.”
“That is certainly unexpected, considering how much trouble we got into. So, Diana and you?”
“Are you kidding? She was hunting me down in particular; you should have heard some of the stuff she told me when we captured her. It was a difficult walk to our hideout when we captured them instead.
It was luck that got us off Elissa. Well and Diana’s reckless, but precise use of explosives.
Kai and her, are kinda a thing whenever either of them can get out of their own way. Reclaiming their lost family honor and all that. You know?”
“I can’t say that I do.
I’m sorry that being a Ward almost got you killed on Elissa.”
“Jaime already apologized.”
“Hard to believe my uncle would do so.”
“I think he did it to smooth things over with my parents, particularly my mom.”
“That was wise.”
“Apparently the Wolf learned some diplomacy during his time.”
“The Dragoons wouldn’t have survived otherwise.”
“Perhaps the Falcon Irregulars will be faster to learn that lesson.”
Ranna drew her pistol as the fireteam cleared the course, racking the slide back to chamber a round, “That doesn’t mean I am not going to shoot Falcons on the range. It is my duty as a member of Clan Wolf.”
He lifted his rifle to a ready position and did the same, his sleeves were rolled up showing off toned biceps, “As an apparently secret member by bloodright, I feel I should join you. For old times’ sake of course.”
“Well, Phelen, let’s see if your technique remains as keen as ever.”
Phelen smiled bright, “I might be a bit out of practice.”
She returned his smile with her own, “Well, then I’ll go easy on you.”
Dinner with the Kells[]
01/22/3052
A dense fog settled over Tersus Lake gathered like the bowl of spiced oatmeal in front of Caitlin Kell. She looked up as her brother opened the ornately scroll-worked door for Ranna, both looked at her in surprise. Phelen looked aside, “Sis? You’re back. I wasn’t expecting you…so soon.”
“Sandy and I flew in last night,” her green eyes peered at Ranna’s blue ones, “Not that either of you would have noticed. And not just because my room is on the other side of the wing.”
Cassandra Allard entered from the other side Ranna shifted out of her way before she settled opposite Caitlin. The woman setting her plate of small, steamed buns on the table chop sticks in one hand, then grasped a pencil from the table in the other. She was reading a letter that they could see was from her sister, Kuan-Yin, still on Victoria although neither of them could read it since it was in Cantonese, and twin-code. “Sandy, how was the jungle LandNav exercise with Diana?”
The woman’s pencil broke as she pressed hard ripping the paper beneath it, “I hate her.” She lifted the jagged edge of the pencil to eye level before snapping it in her fingers. Caitlin covered her bowl and face as the halves flew in either direction.
“I understand.” Ranna looked to Phelen and Caitlin who both gave her a sign to not inquire further at the slightly deranged step-cousin of the Kell family. One forbidden from handling blades within the house by the Lady of the House because of previous 'incidents.’
“How about I make you something to eat, Ran? You can stay here if you’d like.”
She pulled a chair out, “I think that would be only polite. I never speak with your sister or Sandy.”
Phelen hesitated as she settled within the checkered upholstery, “Suit yourself. I’ll be right back,” then headed into the kitchen.
She looked across at Sandy who seemed confused but returned to eating her breakfast and reading the now slightly torn letter. Instead, Caitlin shifted over to the left to sit across from Ranna who poured out auburn tea into a smooth blue-gray ceramic mug. “So, is this thing between you and my brother a last fling at the end of the world thing? Or something else?”
“I suppose we must live through the end of the world to find out, Cait. I heard you graduated from jets and moved onto VSTOL, ahead of schedule.”
“It helps being the daughter of the guy in charge of the training cadre, in the middle of a war.
Not that I didn’t earn it.”
“I do not mean to imply anything; you know how I feel about legacy and expectation.”
Caitlin paused swallowing a few bites from her breakfast, “I suppose that’s true. It’s not easy being the next generation of heroes, is it?”
“I think it is about to get a lot harder. Everyone expects it any day. It is exhausting. If they would just attack maybe my training would kick in so I can stop thinking about what might be.”
“You get used to it or it consumes you.” Sandy interjected darkly, before returning to her food and correspondence with her twin. It was the longest sentence either of them had heard from the woman whose short life had been filled with war, tragedy, and betrayal in her homeland.
Phelen returned with a pair of omelets just as Salome Ward-Kell entered wearing the Kell Hounds training uniform like her daughter and ‘ward’ her hair closer to the gray of the training uniform than the black of the normal one. “Are one of those for me dear?”
He paused as the women watched him standing awkwardly in front of his mother, “I can…”
“Just messing with you son, I already ate.” She picked up half a broken pencil from the floor, eyed its jagged end, then Cassandra. “You know these pencils are so very fragile, Sandy.” She pulled a pencil off her sweater, “Here is another one so can write your letters.”
Sandy looked down, head slightly bowed, at her empty plate and pencil placed on the torn letter, “Thank you, Lady Kell.”
Her son sat down beside his ‘girlfriend,’ “Ranna, it is so nice to see you up close.”
“It is a pleasure to be seen, Lady Kell.”
“You know, you can just call me Major Ward, little Wolf.”
“Yes, Major Ward.”
“Great work flying in the fog last night Caitlin, if a bit reckless.”
“A warm bed and familiar surroundings was worth the risk. Sandy is pretty good on the instruments.” A slight smile could be seen for a moment on the woman.
“Spoken like your father and Uncle.” She spoke softly but close enough that Ranna and Phelen could overhear her, “Although Patrick’s bed would be warm for other reasons.
Anyway, I am back to kicking cadets into the moors. So goodday all.
Before I go though will you be here for dinner?”
Phelen looked up from the last bits of his omelet, “What are we having?”
“The Northwind Highlanders asked if we could do haggis. I haven’t had it in forever, ever since the first AMC conference.”
“You know mom, I think I still have some Clan rations left.” Phelen and Ranna craned their necks to one another, “Even whatever weird Rasalhague fish Diana picked up sounds better.”
Unexpected Arrival[]
Atocongo, Lyran Commonwealth
01/25/3052
Atocongo’s jungles were dense below the mountains that enclosed a firebase of The Fighting Intellectuals, the first of the ‘AMC farm teams’ that Patrick Kell and Yorinaga Kurita had established in their retirement. In this case partially recruited from the Draconis Combine’s Support and Engineering Corps which had grown in prominence with Prince Minoru’s service in it. Other members included combat-hardened former members of the CCAF and SIMC. Three sides of the generation long struggle that had threatened to tear the Inner Sphere apart. Now working together to potentially save an empire that was not their own from a faction that could.
Colorful Nobori flags were staked along the perimeter blowing in tropical winds before a Lance of Battlemechs bearing the diamond hazard logo ‘Genius at War’ on their upper legs. A Mechwarrior leapt down from his cockpit landing in the soft grass below to rush forward to a young man crouched over a sand table displaying the valley before them with accurate miniatures for their battalion strength defensive force.
“Major Kubusaka, we have a situation.”
Shinto lifted his head up to the sky, “Then they are finally here?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How many?”
“Hardcase and the satellites picked up a dozen Warships and at least three times that in droppers. Looks like at least one Warship from both are providing escort service from both jump points.”
“With that kind of force, they mean to force Grand Duke Kell and the Dragoons’ fleet to us.
Have they transmitted one of their Batchalls yet?”
“Negative, sir.”
The Major and his subordinates nodded their heads, “Then they probably don’t intend to.”
“Has the Precentor forwarded it to Arc-Royal?”
“Affirmative sir.”
Shinto looked out into the terrain before them, “So we will have to hold out and plant a garden of ruin for them to buy time and save ourselves.” He donned his hard hat and stepped toward the collection of industrial equipment they had ‘acquired’ on-world. “No time to waste then, we have slightly more than a week to make the invader’s life more difficult and preserve our own.”
The bulldozer’s ICE engine turned over with a throaty roar as the others donned their helmets and comms. “Planning time is over. Time to put those big brains and broad shoulders of yours to work.”
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Volga Class Transport Warship
Within the Volga, the SLS Mekong, a ‘tingling’ sensation came over the ordered rows of SRX robots anchored to the deck-plates of its cargo bays like captive animal statues. Each of them was electronically evaluated and interrogated, deficiencies identified, algorithms tweaked, and work orders submitted to the Technicians walking beside that had so carefully tended them in the months since Wotan. Months where they multiplied and metamorphosized in form and thought, both adjusted from learned experiences spread out among the multitudes.
Waiting in the icy darkness of space within the mothership for an opportunity to see the light of another star shining above the next battlefield.
As is their purpose.