Act 1 - Anger[]
With A Bared Sword[]
Chapter 6[]
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Flensburg, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
22 June 3053
The sun beat down on Kathe unmercifully. It was local winter, for Flensburg was south of the equator, but it wasn’t very far south and she was glad that full dress uniforms weren’t expected today, even though it was a formal occasion.
She saluted along with the other officers as Duke James Sandoval walked past them on review. Each mechwarrior in her battalion stood in front of their mech, the technicians stood behind and other support staff formed a block even further behind. The shaft of the spear, while the mechwarriors formed the point. Twenty-four mechs was a lot of metal, even though most of them were fairly light. Kate’s Guillotine was one of only three heavies, the others being a pair of JagerMechs that had yet to be upgraded with modern technology. She’d bought the Guillotine prototype from NAIS rather than claim one from the small reserve maintained for House Steiner-Davion - she would rather rely upon a ‘mech that she understood inside and out.

JagerMech Heavy 'Mech
The duke - a famous general in his own right - examined each of the mechs and mechwarriors in turn. Kate tried not to show any sign of recognizing Sandoval as anything other than the senior officer visiting them. He knew better, of course, but the act was important for unit morale.
“A fine force,” Sandoval concluded firmly when he had walked through their entire formation. “In good condition, and ready to fight. But I believe you may be somewhat under strength.”
“Yes sir.” Leutnant General Payne’s response was perfectly pitched to carry. “Several of our comrades have volunteered for transfer into commands on the frontlines.”
“That will not do.” The Field Marshal of the Draconis March didn’t crack the slightest smile at the staged conversation. “The defense of the capital cannot be compromised. Permit me to rectify this matter.”
At the signal, twelve new ‘mechs strode into view from the hangars. The crowd of mostly civilians watching from stands overlooking the parade ground oohed and aaahed at the sight. The informed amongst them may have realized that these were an unfamiliar design, fresh from the factory..
Twelve Watchman medium ‘mechs joined the ranks of the New Avalon Crucis March Militia. Kate had seen the specifications back when her father agreed to jointly fund the production of them. They were good enough - not the best, but they were affordable and capable. Only forty tons, but they were built on the same chassis and engine as the larger Enforcer, which gave them a better power to weight ratio - and almost as importantly, the spare parts would be easy to come by. Armament was mostly lasers, which spoke well of their battlefield endurance.
The mechwarriors dismounted, each of them already a member of the CMM, but the Duke of Robinson marched down their ranks along with Payne (who was a duke himself, if of a far less important world) and welcomed them all anyway. Backs straightened as he went past, such was the presence of the leader of the Draconis March.
Once the formalities were done, the battalion’s mechwarriors marched into one of the hangars where tables had been laid out for a reception of local dignitaries. The ‘mechs themselves would be taken back to the hangars by techs, while the important business of reinforcing public relations went on inside.
Kate had pinned her hair up under her cap and hoped to avoid too much attention. Her posting to the CMM wasn’t a secret, but which of their bases she was at was more confidential. Much of the unit served in and around Avalon City in ceremonial or security roles, but Flensburg was where they did most of their training. As a novice lance commander, she was entirely happy to be here.
As an older sister, thousands of kilometers further from her siblings… now there she had concerns.
Thoughts of her family were set aside though as Duke Sandoval beelined towards her before the other guests arrived. “Leutnant Steiner-Davion,” he greeted her.
“Sir.”
Sandoval smirked slightly. “Given your background in engineering, I’d be interested in your opinion on the Watchman.”
Kate folded her arms behind her back. “I haven’t had a chance to take one out on a checkride yet, although I understand a list is being drawn up. The specifications I’ve seen make it look like an excellent medium ‘mech and that’s certainly something we need.”
“Now that does worry me. If it is too good, your brother will be calling for it to be pitted against the Clans, the way he wants more of our regiments on the frontline.”
What was that about? “I may be out of the loop there, sir.”
“I do not require a ‘sir’ every other word,” Sandoval told her. “You’re not a cadet any more. Your brother has requested additional regiments of the Northwind Highlanders to face the Clans. They’re some of the best forces we have left in the Draconis March and Northwind lies too close to the Terran Corridor for me to be comfortable about losing them.”
The achilles heel of the Federated Commonwealth was the relatively narrow section of space linking its two halves, near the neutral motherworld. The Fourth Succession War had made it more than a bottleneck, but losing even a few worlds there would raise the prospect of critical trade and communications being threatened.
“I see your concerns,” Kate admitted, “But I simply do not know what is being requested and what is being offered to replace the Highlanders in such a critical spot.”
“I suppose that’s fair,” the duke said. “Could I impose on you to send me your impressions of the Watchman once you have tried it.”
“I’d like to get hands on,” she agreed. “In the cockpit and with the techs as well. How it fights is half the battle, but… well, you know what a Clint is like to maintain.”
“Never used one myself, I don’t hate my techs that much.” Sandoval laughed at his own joke. The Clint had been built for the Star League by a firm that had the ‘clever’ idea of using non-standard parts to guarantee them constant orders for replacement components. Since the factory had been bombed flat in the Succession Wars, generations of technicians had cursed Andoran Industries’ executives for that decision and the remaining stocks of Clint parts went for ridiculous prices.
Kate chuckled as well. “The refit packs being sent out help a little,” she noted, “I don’t think they go far enough though.”
“We need every ‘mech we can get,” he grunted, eyes narrowing. “But you’re a clever young lady. What are you thinking?”
“I left a little challenge for my underclassmen at NAIS,” she told him frankly. “Build a Clint or something equivalent to its new specs, using commonly available components.”
“Do I hear a rival to Robinson’s new ‘mechs?” the duke rumbled, gesturing in the direction of the ‘mechs outside.
“Something to compliment them.” She met his gaze unflinchingly. “A lot of resources are being thrown into developing advanced designs to close the gap with the Clans, but we also lost hundreds of battlemechs during the invasion and with the price tags I’ve been hearing, we cannot afford to replace them with top of the line options. ‘Mechs being ‘mechs, the idea that another design entering production would cut sales of the Watchman is laughable.”
“There’s still a limit to the funds available,” he grumbled. “I hear you are pushing for more Guillotines like the one I saw out there?”
“I’m keeping an eye on negotiations,” Kate admitted. “Even as one of those re-designing it, it’s not the most powerful ‘mech ever built, but any sane military builds its strength around workhorse types like the Guillotine or the Watchman. It’s far too early to say if the Clint could be redesigned to fill the same role.”
Leutnant General Payne approached the pair of them. “Field Marshal, Leutnant, our guests are beginning to arrive.”
“Thank you, Russel.” Sandoval rubbed his chin. “I will give the idea thought, young lady. Let me know your thoughts on my matter and we shall see what comes together. I do have something in the works for the designers of the Watchman, but they may have room for a joint project with NAIS if your underclassmen live up to your own work.”
Kate nodded. “Thank you. I’ll see if I can find out what Victor had in mind about the Highlanders.”
“That would be appreciated.”
Sandoval walked away towards the entrance where civilians were beginning to enter the reception area. Payne watched him go and then turned to Kate. “Your highness?”
“It seems I cannot avoid business of the realm,” she said, wishing she could grab Victor by the collar and demand some answers. He was half the realm away, but that was no excuse for irritating one of his most powerful future vassals. The Draconis March included more than a hundred star systems and stretched from Terra to the periphery - almost six hundred light years of what had once been the most hotly contested region of space in the Inner Sphere. Accustomed to having scores of the best regiments available at his command, it was no surprise that James Sandoval was concerned to find his command area reduced to militia and a few nodal reaction forces.
Certainly it was unlikely that Theodore Kurita would turn his attention away from the Clans, but it was still alarming to the inhabitants of those worlds to have their defenders stripped away.
Payne clapped her shoulder, drawing her back to the moment. “I hope the matter works out, leutnant. But for now we have guests and the New Avalon CMM prides itself on good relations with the public. I know you’re familiar with some of that from your own life, but there are some differences in uniform so I want you to stay at my side for this reception and keep a close eye on how we handle these things.”