Lords of the Isles (BattleTech AU)

[masterarminas]

Lords of the Isles

An Alternate Universe for the BattleTech Setting

By

Stephen T Bynum


Prologue

Hall of the Khans
Katyusha City, Strana Mechty
March 15, 3002

Kerlin Ward frowned as the final vote was tallied and he shook his head. Damn Nadia! Damn her to the worst and most painful Hell imaginable! For three years, he had fought the Ghost Bear née Wolf who had risen to the rank of Khan in her adoptive Clan. He knew that she disagreed with him, but her passion for the positions held by the Crusaders had only grown in that time. Still, he had nearly managed to divert her—nearly.

His compromise—the so-called Dragoon Compromise—should have passed; it should have satisfied the moderates who wanted more intelligence. And it had. Oh, it had, Kerlin thought. But then she had started a new debate.

“My Khans,” she had said. “This expedition is too important to detail to a single Clan, even one as illustrious as the Wolves who hold the Blood-name of Nicholas Kerensky himself. The Reconnaissance Force must be comprised of volunteers from EVERY Clan, although I will support the proposal that will place Star Colonel Jaime of Wolf in command.”

Damn her! Jaime believed as Kerlin did, that the purpose of the Clans was to protect the Inner Sphere; to return once they could extend a helping hand in friendship and honor, restoring the Star League in cooperation. But now? Now he would be hampered with Warriors from every single Clan—which put Kerlin in a quandary. How will these Warriors respond if I have to issue an order for Jaime to prepare the Inner Sphere for our coming? But at the least, they will have no easy way to communicate that fact back to the Homeworlds.

He turned his attention back to the well where the vote had been completed. Oh, he could declare a Trial of Refusal—but at 32-2, odds of Sixteen-to-One, he could not stop it from happening. Now he did smile behind his mask. It would take a year to train the Dragoons, to equip them with ‘Mechs, fighters, tanks, and DropShips from the oldest SDLF caches. Two years more for them to make their way to the Federated Suns via a circuitous route. And then, his smile broadened, the Plan called for Jaime to spend five years in service with each of the Great Houses, one after the next. Collecting intelligence all the while. It would be 3030 at the earliest before he dispatched his final report—and a decade more before it could be acted upon.

And his opponents knew that as well; it infuriated some of them.

“My Khans,” the soprano voice of Nadia called out from the well, “my Khans. Trothkin,” she said with a smile, her mask sitting on her desk next to her saKhan. This is a great moment, but the moment is not finished. I would call upon Khan Truscott of Clan Star Adder to brief you on a second proposal which I intend to submit for a vote.”

Alan Truscott stood and he made his way to the well. What the Hell? Kerlin thought.

“Brothers. Sisters,” Alan Truscott said with a crooked grin on his face—the long scar he bore on his left twisting and bunching as the muscles pulled against the injured tissue gained in combat long ago. “Gathering information is all well and good, but there is another matter which we must consider—distance. We lie here in the Homeworlds six months from our closest targets . . . six months with Lithium-Fusion batteries. A year otherwise. And once we invade, the distance will only increase to the front-lines. We must look to the future, my Khans. We must build a forward operating base from where we can launch and supply this invasion when it comes.”

Murmurs raced across the Hall, as the Khans and saKhans began to whisper, some with caution and others with excitement. “The Chainelane Isles,” Truscott continued as he activated a holographic projection. “This will be our base of operations. We must dispatch a force to seize the Isles, while keeping the Inner Sphere in the dark of our future plans. Militarily, the Isles pose no threat, but logistically, they will be invaluable to our cause. We must seize them, we must fortify them, we must build up our infrastructure, and we must make of them our depot worlds. It will take decades to accomplish this task—but then so will the Reconnaissance Operation in the Inner Sphere. While these Dragoons compile their reports on the state of the Inner Sphere and their military, we will not be doing nothing—we will be preparing for the days ahead when our progeny fulfill our Legacies by restoring the Star League!”

Kerlin’s jaw fell in shock. But his voice was drowned out in a chorus of cries and excitement, and he made himself sit back down. No! He slammed his fist against the desk. Give the Clans a base that close and I cannot prevent this Invasion.

And then he noticed the sound of his fist against the polished wood had quieted his fellow Khans. Sighing he rose. “The Isles are still a year away, Khan Truscott. Our communications would still be limited to HPG buoys and if those troops were discovered, we open ourselves to defeat in detail! AND, we risk showing them the path to the Homeworlds! No, we cannot risk this.”

And many of the Khans present murmured again, some in agreement, others not so much. But Alan Truscott’s scar wrinkled again and he nodded. “Indeed, Khan Ward. Which is why we are going to undertake a project which the Great Father himself would have stood in awe of.” The Adder Khan activated the controller once more and a chain of pulsating dots appeared in the hologram. “The Aaron DeChavillier Corridor, connecting the systems of Dagda in the Pentagon and Ingvolstand in the Isles, with thirty-three way-stations positioned one every 27.46 light-years between the two systems. This project will require personnel and resources from all of the Clans—as well as the strategic reserve of all four Newgrange-class vessels currently stored under the watchful eye of the Ebon Keshik.”

“Khan Howe?” he turned to the leader of the Snow Ravens.

The old man rose and he nodded—but he did not bother to remove his mask. “We have been told that these Dragoons must have time to accomplish their mission—time to examine in detail the Inner Sphere and learn their weaknesses. We are told that it will take three decades, perhaps four, before we can contemplate launching the Invasion. I tell you, trothkin, that given that amount of time, we have can have the Aaron DeChavillier Corridor and all way-stations complete and operational. Stationing two flights of JumpShips at each waystation and at both Ingvolstand and Dagda, we can cut transit times from the Homeworlds to the Isles from six months to just under seventeen hours.”

Startled whispers broke out from among the Khans, and Howe nodded. “And we can accomplish two such journeys a week. But the undertaking will be immense—the Ravens cannot, and will not, do it alone.”

Truscott and Howe sat back and down and Nadia stood alone in the silent well. “Do we accomplish nothing over the next three decades, my Khans, other than fighting amongst ourselves—or do we prepare to take our rightful place as the Lords of the Star League Reborn?”

A standing ovation erupted—even from those who hated Nadia—and Kerlin ground his teeth in frustration. “WAIT!” he bellowed as he rose to his feet. “We must study these plans and examine them; we cannot be called upon to vote on a matter of this importance without time to examine every single detail!”

Nadia smiled and she nodded. “Khan Ward is correct. I would suggest that we adjourn for a week so every Khan might examine the proposal of Khans Truscott and Howe in detail. Is there a second?”

But before Kerlin could answer, Gordon Myers, the Khan of Clan Goliath Scorpion stood. “One more issue needs to be considered before we adjourn, Khan Winson.”

“And what might that be, my Scorpion friend?”

“We must elect an ilKhan to head this project—and to exert unilateral control over the Dragoons.”

Absolute silence filled the hall at the sudden pronouncement. A Diamond Shark rose to his feet and he shook his head. “There has not been an ilKhan since Tobias Khatib was removed from office and executed for treason!”

“In 2947, Khan Horn. Fifty-four years, eight months, and seven days have passed without an ilKhan. And we have stagnated, become complacent, fight among ourselves more than we did under their rule. But now we ponder the Return that Kerensky the Great Father foretold for us. That he promised us was our Right. My Khans, the time has come to have an ilKhan once more—and there is no one present who could serve as well as Nadia Winson.”

And with, the Scorpion sat as silence reigned over the Hall again. And Khan Truscott rose and he nodded. “I second the motion, and move that we acknowledge the new ilKhan by acclamation. All in favor say AYE!”

“AYE!” the Khans shouted before Kerlin could react.

“Those opposed say NAY,” Truscott continued his eyes locked on the Wolf Khan. But no one spoke, and Kerlin snarled behind his mask and held his tongue.

“Then this Council is adjourned until tomorrow, when the Loremaster of the Clans will administer the Oath to ilKhan Nadia Winson, seventh to bear that title. Hail the ilKhan!”

“HAIL!” the Khans roared as they rose and gave salute, and if Kerlin could be happy at one small fact it was that Nadia appeared as stunned as he was.

[Eternal_Freedom]

I shall follow this closely; i really enjoyed Scorpio Ascendant and this sounds just as interesting. Clan Golaith Scorpion being cunning as ever I see

[masterarminas]

Thanks. I hope that enjoy the story.

NOTE: This story builds upon the ideas I started in Operation Revival Reborn in that it is a retelling of the Clan Invasion where the Clans return in force. It will be quite different in character from Scorpio Ascendant, and I think will be a fun read.

I think you can see from this first excerpt just where this story diverges from canon. As always, feel free to correct me when I am blatantly wrong, or to offer any advice you see fit, or pull me up short where I am going overboard and straining your sense of disbelief.

Now, I've been working with some folks at OurBattleTech, and there is a long thread (HERE) where we have been looking at what is to come and crunching out the numbers. First thing is that I have changed the size of the Clans. The biggest Clans got smaller and the smallest Clans got larger. This AU will see the Burrocks as part and parcel of Clan Society (a major difference with my previous works), but otherwise the equipment is the same. For the most part.

I have kept the OmniMechs, OmniFighters, and Elementals of canon (with the weapons of the canon timeline), but older second-line/garrison BattleMechs, those have been . . . altered slightly. Why? Because second-line BattleMechs shouldn't have expensive XL engines. They are second-line after all. While not yet finished, my Solaris 7 armory (Kerensky Cluster Design and Engineering) features these second-line 'Mechs. And THIS THREAD at Our BattleTech has the new Clan JumpShips. Why new JumpShips? What is wrong with the Merchant, Invader, Star Lord, and Monolith? Nothing, except that you can't really fit Lithium-fusion batteries in them. These designs make more sense (to me) than the Clans still using the old relics of the SLDF.

Anyway, I hope that you enjoy this story. So buckle in, and let's go for a ride.

Master Arminas

[Eternal_Freedom]

Frankly I couldn't care less about divergences from canon (since I have precisely zero familiarity with BattleTech) I just love reading these stories

[LadyTevar]

Thanks. I hope that enjoy the story.

NOTE: This story builds upon the ideas I started in Operation Revival Reborn in that it is a retelling of the Clan Invasion where the Clans return in force. It will be quite different in character from Scorpio Ascendant, and I think will be a fun read.

You best be updating BOTH OF THESE immediately, for my viewing pleasure. Otherwise, I will have to bring out the LongTom artillery.

[masterarminas]

Next snippet will be up tomorrow; the shooting in CT kind of ruined my concentration on writing. My cousin lived (and taught) close by that area. She (and her kids and husband) are safe, but we didn't hear from her until today. Anyway, next post tomorrow.

MA

[masterarminas]

Hall of the Khans
Katyusha City, Strana Mechty
March 22, 3002

“This plan is plagued with worrisome aspects, my Khans,” George Galen, the Khan of the Blood Spirits said as he shook his head. “It is worthy, my ilKhan, that we are speaking of building up a forward base in Chainelane . . . but this proposed DeChavillier Corridor? The resources involved will beggar us, and it provides a trail of bread crumbs leading straight to the Pentagon! From there it is but a small step to the Kerensky Cluster itself. No,” he shook his head again, “the Spirits cannot support such a proposal. It endangers the Clans by painting a sign that points directly at our heart!”

“Let me see if I understand you, Khan Galen,” Alan Truscott said from his seat, without bothering to rise. “You fear that the Inner Sphere will learn the location of the Homeworlds, quiaff? And yet, you also believe that we of the Clans have the strength of arms to conquer that self-same Inner Sphere? Which is it, Khan Galen? Are we strong enough to conquer them, but not strong enough to defend ourselves against them?”

The Blood Spirit flushed as Truscott’s sarcasm, and he noted—sourly—that many of the other Khans present were agreeing with the Adder. But before he could reply, another came to his aid.

“I believe, Khan Truscott,” Dawn Santos of the Burrocks said with a smirking grin, “that what our Spirit brother is attempting to say, although he does make a poor job of doing so, is that a small force from the Inner Sphere might well be able to evade our patrols, bypass our Space Defense Systems, enter orbit over our enclaves unseen, and be able to deliver nuclear weapons onto our defenseless enclaves. Does that about sum it up, Khan Galen?”

“That was not . . .,” the Spirit began to snarl and then he shook his head. “Do what you wish; the Spirits want none of this!”

“Khan Galen, if the Grand Council of Khans votes in favor of this proposal, Clan Blood Spirit will do their part; is that understood?” Nadia Winson said with a frown.

For several long moments, the two—ilKhan and Khan—locked their gazes, and several of those present held their breaths as the Khan of the Spirits almost said the unthinkable. The unforgiveable. But at last, Galen looked away and he nodded. “We will do out duty, ilKhan; never forget that.”

“Good. Is there any more debate before we call the vote?”

Mathis Horn of the Sharks stood. “If I am understanding this correctly, we will be sending second-line forces to secure the Isles, quiaff?”

“Aff.”

“Why? Why not use front-line forces instead of entrusting this mission to free-birth?”

“Khan Horn, you are free to use front-line Warriors if you wish—but to maintain secrecy while giving the Reconnaissance Expedition time to accomplish its mission and to construct the Corridor AND to integrate the Isles into our Society, we cannot let anyone suspect that we are more than we seem,” the ilKhan answered. “Which is why both expeditions will be using SLDF equipment from our caches—not the technology we have since developed over the past century. If your front-line Warriors are willing to pilot such equipment, BattleMechs and conventional infantry, if I might remind my Khans, by all means they are welcome too. I know for my own Clan, the chance of glory in securing the Isles against the projected resistance there is so minute that none of the front-line Warriors I have spoken with have asked for a place in the expedition.”

And a general murmur of agreement passed from Khan to Khan from where they were seated at the benches. Nadia waited for several moments, but no one else rose. “Very well then, shall we call the vote?”

***********************************************************

Kerlin Ward shook his head as he left the Great Hall behind him. It could still work, his plan. He would need to speak with the freebirths Jaime and Joshua Wolf, but the plan could still work. They would have to be more circumspect, and measures would have to be taken to ensure that the first losses were those contributed by other Clans, not Wolf. But it could be done. Kerlin nodded to himself as he trudged through the downpour towards his waiting ground car parked across the boulevard. He smiled despite the cold rain. Yes, from his base in the Isles, he could send Wolf replacement freeborn—a handful here, a trifle there. The other Clans would never notice—and Kerlin would make certain that Jaime knew he was to . . . edit his casualty reports to keep future recruits from the Homeworlds low. Yes, within five years, only the Wolves would be left and then the Dragoon’s could start their real mission. In a way, this can work, he thought as he stepped out onto the slick black asphalt of the roadway.

“WARD!” a voice shouted, and at the same time a horn blared to Kerlin’s left. His head twisted around and he saw the prow of a transport truck bearing down towards him—the face of the driver ashen and shocked, and then he heard the squeal as the brakes locked and the vehicle continued to slide—straight towards him.

“Oh, sh-,” he started to say, but he never finished the words as the engine grill slammed into the Khan of the Wolves and everything went dark.

[masterarminas]

Cyrus Elam Training Grounds
Camlaan Plateau, Roche
June 18, 3003

Jaime Wolf patted the dust off of his uniform outside the entrance to the tent. To either side of the free-birth Warrior, a massive Elemental stood, clad in flat-black Battle Armor. Frankly, he had been more than a little surprised when the two had snapped to attention and rendered him a salute . . . he had certainly not expected that.

With much—but not all—of the dust and grime removed, he parted the tent flap and entered. The large pavilion was filled by around a dozen men and women—but just one had summoned him forth. Nadia Winson, the ilKhan of the Clans, looked up at his approach and smiled.

“Care for some refreshment, Galaxy Commander?” she asked, and Wolf jerked upright. The ilKhan’s smile broadened. “Come now, Jaime, that is what you are, in effect, quiaff? Your Expedition—your Dragoons—is comparable in size to a Galaxy, so let us at the least acknowledge your status properly.”

“Khan Vickers disagrees, ilKhan.”

“Khan Vickers opinion does not matter here, Galaxy Commander. Your Dragoons answer to ME, not to the Khan of Clan Wolf. And if I say you are a Galaxy Commander, then you are one—and you will treated accordingly.” She raised a carafe of ice and water again. “Care for a drink?”

“Neg, ilKhan. If my people cannot get a cold drink on this exercise, than neither shall I.”

Nadia laughed. “Oh, Jaime, I do like you. Come here,” she commanded and nodded at her aide. He nodded back in reply and shooed the many other officers from the ilKhan’s tent, leaving just Jaime and her and one other Warrior dressed in the field uniform of the new Dragoons—although Jaime did not recognize him.

“From the reports I have received, the Khans are ready to throttle you, Galaxy Commander Wolf. Some are rather perturbed at how you and your Scorpion trainers are tossing aside zellbrigen and in your selection of such antique BattleMechs, Aerospace Fighters, and vehicles for your forces.” Jaime started to answer but she held up a hand. “Their opinions do not matter either, Jaime Wolf. I approve of your methods and your equipment—for the most part. How is the integration of your Warriors progressing?”

Jaime gathered himself and he took a deep breath. “ilKhan, things would go a lot faster if you allowed the Wolves—and perhaps a handful of volunteers from the other Clans—to form the bulk of the Dragoons. I am spending time that should be used to learn this equipment in adjudicating disputes between Warriors of opposing Clans and philosophies.”

“I understand . . . but this is a joint effort of the Clans, Jaime. All will be represented,” she replied firmly.

Jaime nodded. He did not agree, but he was not going to press the issue any further. “We are—barely—on schedule. Even with having to deal with the many differences between my Warriors, I think we will be ready to start exercises against OpFor units by . . .,” his voice trailed off as he considered, and then he nodded again. “By early September.”

“Excellent. And you have received all of the equipment that you requested from the Clan caches?”

“Not all, ilKhan. The Hellions are dragging their feet in supplying two companies of BattleMechs and their associated Aerospace Fighters, plus I understand that there have been difficulties in restoring the old Overlords, Unions, Leopards, and Lions to full operational status. The Raven engineers keep wanting to upgrade them instead of just restoring them to working order.”

“I have spoken with Khan Crow and THAT issue has been resolved, Jaime. Your force structure is quite interesting—it is not precisely SLDF in origin, nor Clan. Your rationale?”

“We are assembling five Regiments, plus supporting elements. Each Regiment will contain two pure BattleMech Battalions—with their aerospace complement—and a combined arms battalion with a mixed force of BattleMechs, combat vehicles, and conventional infantry. In addition, we will assign a Regimental Company that will be built around two lances of BattleMechs and a Nova Lance of armor and infantry to each Regiment. Supporting units to date consist of a Heavy Assault Battalion with just heavy- and assault-weight BattleMechs and Aerospace Fighters, an Independent Aero Wing, a Special Operations Battalion of Infantry and transport vehicles, a Fires Battalion with artillery assets, and a Recon Group with BattleMechs and vehicles. I believe with the variety of Warriors of differing Toumans under my command, this arrangement will give me the most flexibility when I arrive in the Inner Sphere.”

“Agreed and approved. I am adding two additional units to your roster, however,” the ilKhan said. “Combing through existing garrison formations, I have assembled an infantry Regiment for your command—along with transport vehicles. You will need these to protect your civilians; of that I have no doubt.”

“My civilians?”

“Jaime, you are going to have Technicians, but beside them your force will need Scientists to evaluate Inner Sphere technology, engineers to construct temporary or permanent structures, Merchants to aid you in negotiating mercenary contracts AND acquire local sources of supply, medical personnel, and Laborers. These forces I have also assembled. This . . . Home Guard Regiment . . . will serve to protect them while your line Regiments form the fighting strength of your Galaxy.”

Jaime nodded and he frowned. He and Joshua had been discussing just how vital such elements would be—only he had expected to have to fight tooth and nail for them. “We could use some Intelligence assets as well, ilKhan.”

Nadia chuckled. “Aff. I have already asked for volunteers from all of the Clan Watches—you will have an Intel Section well before your training is complete.”

“And the other unit you are adding?”

“Your Keshik, Galaxy Commander.”

Jaime’s eyes grew wide and Nadia nodded. “Cluster commanders do not get Keshiks. Galaxy Commander seldom do, but for an independent unit on such a vital mission—you rate one. I am assembling a battalion of BattleMechs, Aerospace Fighters, armor, and infantry that will serve as your Command Keshik, Galaxy Commander Jaime Wolf.” She paused and smiled again. “And I asked for—and received from Khan Vickers—only Wolf Warriors for that Keshik.”

The free-birth’s throat was tight and all he could do was nod. “But there are two points on which I must deny your requests,” the ilKhan continued.

Jaime swallowed. “And those are?”

“First, I know that you and Joshua are close. However, he will not be your second-in-command. Star Colonel John MacKenzie will serve in that role. John, come shake hands with your new commander.”

“Galaxy Commander, it is an honor to be chosen to serve as your executive officer on this mission.”

“Star Colonel,” Jaime said crisply, shaking the other man’s hand despite the clammy feeling in his stomach.

“However, I am not denying Joshua a place in the Expedition. He will command your Beta Regiment, while John here commands Alpha—and you in your Keshik oversee the entire force. You may select the rest of your senior officers from the volunteers out there in the hot Roche summer sun. I will approve any promotions—or demotions—that you deem necessary. Is this acceptable?”

“Aff,” Jaime whispered.

“Good,” Nadia said with a slight smile. Which promptly faded. “And your request for WarShip support is denied.”

“May I inquire as to why, ilKhan?”

“Mercenaries during the Star League and the Age of War did not own WarShips. I cannot believe that any government would allow them in the hands of private military organizations. Since you are pretending to be a mercenary unit, then it would be out of place to have them—even if the Great Houses retain their own Fleets. Do not argue with me on this, Jaime—my decision is final. You will not be taking Clan WarShips into the Inner Sphere.”

Jaime Wolf winced, but he nodded.

“Good. And now Galaxy Commander, I believe I will give you some time to break the news to Joshua. However, I will expect both of you—and any other senior officers you have already decided upon—to join me and John for dinner this evening. In the meantime, I believe that you have a Galaxy to finish assembling and training, Galaxy Commander. Oh, and one final thing before you and John depart. Here. These are yours,” she said as she held out a small jewel box.

Jaime opened it and within lay two gleaming silver Cameron stars, each set on a disk of polished sapphire. The rank insignia of an SLDF Major General. “No Colonel commands a force this size—General Wolf. I will see you this evening for dinner. Dismissed.”

[masterarminas]

Headquarters, Rho Garrison Galaxy
Koutani Station, Glory
June 21, 3003

“You are certain in this choice, saKhan?” Leslie Buhallin, the Khan of Clan Jade Falcon asked in a sour voice. “He is a free-birth—this entire Galaxy is predominately comprised of free-births.”

Yvonne Hazen grinned at her Khan. “Aff, my Khan. Unless you would prefer to spare a front-line unit for what may be decades. He is the best choice. First, he is troublesome to the Nest, and sending him—and those like him—to Chainelane will serve the Clan by securing the system of Vannes and cleansing the Homeworlds of their presence. Second, he is an excellent Warrior, despite his peculiar tendencies and mannerisms that have alienated him within our society. Third, he has a keen mind and does not shirk a task—he will do well and transform this primitive backwater into a stronghold of the Clan.”

Buhallin snorted. “A stronghold shaped by a free-birth who is often at odds with the Unity, saKhan.” She grimaced and shook her head. “You are, however, correct. The parameters set by the ilKhan cannot be accomplished with one of our true-born at the head of this expedition. They will balk and squabble and they do not understand the necessity of deception and deceit.”

The Khan stood and she began to pace. It was a . . . troublesome truth that she had learned as Khan. Sometimes, a lie of omission was required—sometimes, deceit had to be employed. It gnawed at her, though, the dishonor of those actions which she sometimes had to take to ensure that the Clan survived and thrived.

It was not the Way that Nicholas Kerensky had established; but then, the Clans had charted their own course away from the exact Path of the Founder and First Khan of Khans since his death. That was one constant of life that the Falcons struggled with—it changed. It adapted. And her Falcons—her Falcons—struggled against such change. That was their foundation of strength . . . and their greatest weakness.

There was a knock on the door frame and Buhallin nodded to herself; she walked back over to her chair behind the desk and sat once more. “Enter,” she commanded.

The door opened and a tall Falcon Warrior was ushered in, the door closed behind him by her aide. His uniform was immaculate, but the Khan still frowned upon seeing the ornamentation worn by this freebirth in the form of a jeweled stud in one ear lobe. And his hair was worn too long. She shook her head and sighed.

“Star Colonel Paris reporting as ordered, my Khan!” he snapped out as he came to a halt two paces from the desk and stood at attention. His posture and bearing were perfect and exact, but his tone held just a touch of contempt and sarcasm, and the Khan ground her teeth as she stared at Yvonne. The young saKhan just shrugged, and Buhallin sighed.

“You have heard of the expedition to the Chainelane Isles, quiaff?” she asked in a clipped voice.

“Aff.”

“It is a matter of vital importance to the Clans—to the Falcons—that we secure a foothold there from which we shall one day return to the Inner Sphere. Do you agree?”

“Aff,” he replied, his face showing no expression at all. Buhallin’s cheeks began to color as this free-birth’s one-word answers irritated her. She stood.

“Against my better judgment, my saKhan has selected you to command our expedition, Paris. Are you qualified for this task?”

“Aff,” he said again with a slight smirk, and then remained silent. The Khan laid her palm on the grip of her holstered pistol and she shook her head.

“Look at me, damn you!” she bellowed. “I have no patience for your games today, Paris!”

The free-birth Falcon stood at ease and he glared straight into his Khan’s eyes. “Aye, Khan Buhallin, I can take and hold Vannes for you. I can transform the native people there into good little Falcons for your Nest. If you have doubts, well, that is your problem, not mine. Either order me to do the job, or reassign me to a Solahma unit, or kill me. Because frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn what you prefer today, my Khan.”

Her eyes grew wide, and Leslie Buhallin could feel the blood boiling in her veins, but then both of the standing Falcons—true-born Khan and free-born Warrior—turned their heads as Yvonne Hazen burst out laughing.

“My Khan, he is a Falcon. Proud and haughty regardless of his lineage. You asked the question and received the answer. Paris, this is no ordinary task we are setting you to. You must secure Vannes, you must indoctrinate the civilians there in our ways, and you must oversee the construction of industry and infrastructure to support our eventual invasion. Further, you will have to accomplish this while keeping your neighbors in the Inner Sphere ignorant of our origin and our goals. They cannot have warning. Can you do this?”

The free-birth grinned and he nodded. “Aff. I can do this. I will be taking my 4th Garrison Cluster?”

Buhallin exhaled and she forced her back down into her seat. “Aff. You will command the 4th PGC and all of Rho Galaxy, Galaxy Commander Paris.” She smiled as she saw the stunned look on the face of this free-birth.

“You may discover that this assignment is rather more challenging that you think, Paris. Rho Galaxy will be reequipped for operations with SLDF BattleMechs, Aerospace Fighters, and vehicles. Your normal equipment will be sent along with you, but will be warehoused against future need. You are NOT to use our technology unless it is a question of Vannes falling into the hands of others. In which case, your mission will have already been a failure. Should you encounter merchants or explorers or military personnel from the Inner Sphere, you will lead them to believe that you are nothing more than minor warlord—a bandit on the edge of civilization. Nothing they need fear, and certainly nothing they need to investigate.”

Paris frowned and he nodded. “I see why you wanted a free-birth, Khan Buhallin. True-born Falcons would find that difficult to accomplish.”

“We must disguise our presence and give them no warning of what is to come, Paris. Fail and you will not be remembered by any. If you succeed,” and Leslie Buhallin, Khan of the Jade Falcons ground her teeth again, glaring at her saKhan who had proposed the idea, “if you succeed, I will see that your genetic legacy enters the breeding program. You are of the House of Folkner, quiaff?”

“Aff,” the free-born said quietly, his attention glued now to the Khan.

“Understand this, Paris. You will be out there alone for decades—twenty, perhaps even thirty or forty—years. You will not live to see it, but you have my word—and that of my saKhan—that your progeny will be true-born Warriors of the Clan. If you succeed. Is it still your will to try?”

“Try not. Do or do not. There is no try,” Paris quoted with a wry smile. “Aff, my Khan.”

“Good,” the Khan said and she glanced back over at Yvonne and sighed. “Tell him.”

The saKhan stood. “Rho Galaxy has never been given the honor of a Name, Galaxy Commander Paris. At least, until now. Take your Raptors to Vannes, conqueror that world in the name of the Falcon, and make for us a Nest worthy of this Clan.”

Paris grinned. “The Raptors of Vannes? Aff, saKhan. I can work with that. I’ll have a free hand, quiaff?”

Leslie sighed at yet another contraction leaving the lips of the free-born—he must be doing that on purpose to annoy her. But she nodded. “Within reason. And I expect monthly reports, Galaxy Commander. Detailed reports.”

He nodded. And then there was silence for several long moments before the Khan shook her head. “You had best get started preparing Rho for this assignment. And getting them acquainted with the ancient equipment that you will shortly be receiving.”

“How long do I have?”

“Not long, Galaxy Commander. I expect that the expedition will depart within the next year—fifteen months at the most. In that time, you must prepare Rho—the Raptors of Vannes—for operations, assemble a force of civilians that will build our Nest, and prepare yourselves for the most important assignment in the history of the Falcons to date. Do not fail me in this.”

“Well, with your permission then, Khan Buhallin, I think that I should get to work.”

“Go,” she said, as she opened another folder and bent her head to read the next report on her schedule. The free-born just nodded at the Khan, and the saKhan in turn, and then he spun on his heel and marched out of the office. Buhallin threw down the file folder and she snorted.

“And you, Yvonne Hazen. If he fails, I shall not forget who advised me to send him.”

“Succeed or fail, see that you do not, Khan Buhallin,” she answered with a chuckle. “For the rest of your life, he is going to be over a year’s travel away from you and all proper Falcons. I think you owe me a hearty thank-you, myself.”

[masterarminas]

Wolf’s Dragoons Headquarters
Abaddon Heights, Eden
February 8, 3004

General Jaime Wolf stood outside in the cool night air, and he surveyed all that he could see below him. The edge of the heights on which he stood dropped precipitously to the jungle floor below, but the rim stood high above even the tallest of the trees. He could hear the sounds of the creatures that filled that jungle quite clearly, however, and he sighed. This was the last time that he would cast his gaze upon Eden. The last time he would ever see with his own eyes the beauty of the Homeworlds.

A faint sound rose above the voices and cries of the night prowlers, a rhythmic thump, thump, thump; and Jaime sighed. He turned his back to the misty jungle far below and he walked towards the complex of buildings that served his Dragoons as their temporary headquarters. The source of the sound came into view and the VTOL slowed over the well-illuminated landing pad, its landing gears deploying as it settled down and the rotors wound down. The battle-armor clad Elementals of the Ebon Keshik—already deployed in advance of the ilKhan—snapped to attention as the side door opened and Nadia Winson descended the short steps, followed by her aides.

Jaime walked over and he nodded his head in greeting. “We are ready for the final briefing, ilKhan—if you would follow me?”

She nodded, removing the helmet that she wore handing it off to an aide. Together the two of them entered the building and then a conference where nearly two dozen officers waited. “Attention!” bellowed Colonel John MacKenzie, the commander of Alpha Regiment and Jaime’s second-in-command. As one, the men and women snapped to their feet and saluted crisply. Most—but not all—wore the black and red uniforms of the Dragoons.

“As you were,” Nadia said as she took her seat at the head of the table; following her lead the others quickly resumed their own seats and Jaime took a chair. John sat to the right of Jaime, the Bloodnamed Ghost Bear Warrior calm and collected in the presence of his ilKhan. Jaime had been surprised, but he had developed a fondness for the man; his cautious personality perfectly offset the rashness that the General knew he had a tendency towards, and his skill in battle was considerable. He had also proved himself a keen administrator and leader, and under his tutelage Alpha Regiment—First Team—had become a finely honed sword, taking unanticipated changes in the battlefield in stride and possessing a tenacity and camaraderie which had impressed the Wolf.

To his right sat Joshua Wolf, Jaime’s own free-born younger brother, and Colonel of Beta Regiment—Second to None. Fiery and ready for the crucible that awaited them, Beta had been built as a fast-moving regiment of medium-weight designs, to complement the heavy Alpha. It was truly a Wolf unit, able to adapt in an instant and built to worry its opponents to death.

Aleisha Ross came next. Wolf smiled. They had to conceal the fact that the ilKhan had granted the use of surnames to his Dragoons from the Khans—had that little tidbit of information leaked out, there would have literal hell to pay in the Grand Council of Khans. Colonel of Gamma Regiment—The Iron Guard—Aleisha was a free-birth of Clan Burrock. And if her chosen Gamma was slower than Beta Regiment in speed, and lighter than Alpha Regiment in weight, it was a solid defensive unit that excelled at holding ground. A pursuit unit, no; that it was not. And the medium-weight units could not absorb as much damage as Alpha, but the Regiment under her leadership had settled down nicely and packed a measure of firepower all out of proportion to the size of its BattleMechs.

Colonel Travis King commanded Delta Regiment—The Hunters—which was the lightest of Wolf’s five regiments. An Ice Hellion by birth, the free-born Travis had volunteered for this assignment and built a Regiment that would have made Stephen Cage proud. It certainly satisfied him, Jaime thought with a wry grin. Even if Travis wouldn’t stop complaining about how sluggish and slow the old SLDF BattleMechs and hover vehicles were compared to modern Clan designs.

The Goliath Scorpion Baxter Arbuthnot was another free-born volunteer—but one who had earned his mother’s Bloodname in a Grand Melee. Tasked as the Colonel of Epsilon Regiment—the Harrowers—Baxter had built a combined arms regiment where all ten of his companies held a mixture of BattleMechs, combat vehicles, infantry troopers, and aerospace fighters. Although the volunteers from other Clans had protested, Jaime allowed him to build his Regiment in the Scorpion fashion—and the results had been outstanding. Lacking almost any light or assault-weight BattleMechs, Epsilon was second only to Alpha in the weight of its combat units, and the incorporation of vehicles and infantry in every company had given Baxter flexibility that no other Regiment of the Dragoons had demonstrated. Able to attack, defend, and pursue—if not specialized in any specific mission—the well-rounded nature of The Harrowers made Jaime grateful that Baxter had volunteered for this assignment.

Lieutenant Colonel Misha Lloyd took the next chair. A Star Adder, she had been awarded command of the Fire Support Group; a battalion of artillery vehicles designed to give any of the Regiments fire on demand.

To her side sat Lt. Colonel Jason Carmody, a Cloud Cobra in command of the Orbital/Aerospace Operations Group. Twenty-four aerospace fighters and four carrier DropShips formed the core of his command, supported by a pair of Assault DropShips. The Cobra fighter pilot had drilled his pilots mercilessly, and today Jaime would have bet his stars that they could take any pilot in the Clans—let alone the Inner Sphere.

Lt. Colonel Marian Griffin was a hard woman from a hard Clan. A Smoke Jaguar, the free-birth had served in the Jaguar Garrison Infantry, where she had made a name for herself in a field where those of the Elemental phenotype usually prevailed. Wolf had assigned her to command his Seventh Kommando, a unit of infantry and vehicles that Jaime intended to undertake so-called “special missions”, where a small unit of elite soldiers could indeed make a difference. And Marian had built that unit, although her former Jaguar Khans would be shocked by the dishonorable (in their eyes) tactics she had chosen to train her command in.

The Special Recon Group of Lt. Colonel Hansen Brubaker was next. A mixed battalion of BattleMechs, fast VTOL gunships, and combat hovertanks, it was designed to scout for the Dragoons in all types of terrain, and these Warriors exceeded even the speed and mobility of Travis King’s Delta Regiment—a fact which the former Horse never allowed Travis to forget.

Zeta Battalion was the Hammer of the Dragoons. Commanded by the Jade Falcon Lt. Colonel Anson Howe, it was comprised of just heavy and assault-weight BattleMechs and Aerospace Fighters. Slow, ponderous, relatively immobile, Zeta carried an impressive amount for firepower—especially for such primitive BattleMechs as the Dragoons were using. And while Jaime might personally detest Anson Howe, the man knew well how to deploy his command and lead it.

Paul Vandenberg, the Colonel assigned to command the Home Guard Regiment of combat vehicles and infantry, had been a Blood Spirit. Which made him one of the few of that Clan in the Dragoons—the Spirit Khans had offered the bare minimum of troops, and most of those had been rejected. But not Paul. Paul was one of those rare Spirits who seemed to be able to let go of the past; he had built the Home Guard into a confident unit well able to keep the Dragoon’s rear secured.

Colonel Julia Kidd, a Snow Raven, was the commander of the transport JumpShips and DropShips assigned to carry his Dragoons. Although she lamented that the ilKhan had rejected WarShips, she had thrown herself into getting the ancient ships ready for deployment—her skill would prove invaluable in the coming days and long journey ahead, Jaime thought.

Lt. Colonel Martha Ryan was next; charged with the command of the Special Intelligence and Operations Group, she was the Warrior that the ilKhan had found to ride herd on her promised Watch analysts. And so far, she had proven very, very good at her job.

Wolf’s aide—Captain William Cameron was next, seated beside Captain Natasha Kerensky. William served as his aide and commanded the Timber Wolf Company of his command. Natasha—another rare true-born with a Bloodname in the Dragoons—had been assigned to the second company—the Black Widow Company. Between the two of them, he was as safe as any General on the battlefield had a right to expect.

And sitting between Natasha and Nadia was the final member of this meeting: Khan Gordon Myers of Clan Goliath Scorpion.

Nadia smiled at the men and women she had come to know so well. “First of all, my congratulations. You have raised a furor in the Homeworlds like we have not seen in ages. The Jaguars and Falcons and Vipers are calling for me to have you all declared as dezgra; apparently your defeat, in simulation, of their hand-picked front-line forces while using equipment we have considered obsolete has outraged them.” She grinned and slowly clapped. “Perhaps it will make them reconsider why they lost; perhaps not. But defeat them you did—and now you are ready to start your assignment. Khan Myers?”

The Scorpion stood, and he nodded at the men and women trained with the texts and simulators his Clan had supplied—trained in the style of the old SLDF. “Warriors, next week you will depart the Pentagon and set course for Vannes, the closest world in the Chainelane Isles to the Inner Sphere. Clan Jade Falcon’s Rho Galaxy should have already seized the world by the time you arrive—they departed three months ago. There, you will refuel and have a few weeks to stretch your legs after your year-long journey. And then,” he picked up a remote and clicked it. A holographic map of the Inner Sphere appeared. “Contrary to what many Khans believe, we do have some information on the current situation in the Inner Sphere.”

He smiled crookedly at the ilKhan, who glowered back at him. “Our Seekers, while never quite breaking the ruling of the Council, have made inroads into the near Periphery. There we have learned of the largest events of the day. As you can see, the Terran Hegemony no longer exists. Their territory has been divided amongst the Five Great Houses, and the borders have been rather fluid over the centuries, as you can plainly see. We have also confirmed that it is generally believed that WarShips are extinct—no one has them anymore or the means to produce them. Your BattleMechs and Aerospace Fighters are possibly in better condition than the majority of their forces—I anticipate that your arrival will cause quite a stir.”

He chuckled, and then shook his head. “The original plan was to circumnavigate the Inner Sphere to disguise where the eventual Invasion would come from—but that would add at least a year to your journey. Instead, you will enter the Lyran Commonwealth once you depart Vannes. Your cover story will be that you have been exiled by the leadership of the Isles—a remnant of the Rim Worlds Republic—and that you are mercenaries looking for employment. I would suggest either Barcelona or Bone-Norman for your initial point of contact with Lyran forces. The files I have uploaded to your personal systems contain the story we are weaving—study it and learn it, and stick to it. Emphasize that the Isles are violently isolationist and that you were exiled for daring to question the status quo—it is the understanding of our Seekers that such reasons often lead to formed units going mercenary in the Inner Sphere of today. The distance between the Commonwealth and the Isles should prevent them from trying to confirm the story—and even if they do, our forces on station there will turn away any . . . inquisitive minds. All of the commanders on the ground will be informed—and if your names are mentioned, there are certain to be expletives as well.”

Laughter circled the table, but Myers pressed on. “Beyond that, we know little. I would suggest trying to obtain five year contracts; that should be sufficient for gathering information. Once your contract with Steiner expires, you can either head for the League or Kurita space—your choice, General Wolf. We need a full assessment of the strength of each Great House, however. Once a complete circuit of the Inner Sphere has been accomplished—which should take approximately twenty-five years, we would also like assessments on the Outworlds Alliance, the Taurian Concordat, and the Magistracy of Canopus. While not strictly necessary, reports on those powers will be helpful in forming our final invasion plans.”

Myers sat down without another word and Nadia nodded. “Expect that we will have a little chat about how far the Seekers are allowed to go in the future, Khan Myers. But that is for later. Warriors, this is the last time we will meet—in my lifetime, certainly.” She stood, followed by everyone seated at the table. “Your mission is of vital importance, and we are all counting on you and your people to succeed. Good hunting.”

And turned on her heels and left the Dragoons behind her.

Jaime watched her go and he sighed. “Final preparations for embarkation begin at dawn. Make certain you have everything we need because we are not coming back if you forget some spare parts. Dismissed.”