Battletech: The Ghost Who Walks (Battletech Isekai)

Nominally Canon: The Starport​

Everyone had to do their bit, and as nice as a shower would have been there was still a lot to go... but thankfully, most of it would be opening doors, and turning on machines... and Tristan promised that he could handle most of the command and control. They had finally switched from emergency lighting to the facility's normal lighting. The AI had been able to patch up the Outpost Castle magnificently. You'd have never guessed that there was a battle there. The same was mostly true for the Star Port. Mostly.

"Be still my heart." Ford murmured exhaling and looking around as the guide lights lit up, and smiled. It was beautiful. The Star League's idea of star port had blended in perfectly with the natural surroundings, someone had decided to plant the trees for Arbor day, whatever that was. And well... he'd seen the ghastly security feeds of what had happened. The majority of the starport was underground though, and even now...

... and Tristan had a handful of anti personnel drones still skulking through the corridors. He heard every so often a rapid series of scurrying clicks as they rushed from position to position. More than once he'd turned around expecting them to have moved to some previous position just to see one hanging from the ceiling dim red optic glowing... but they were useful for looking around. He had needed their search lights to work.

"If only the Combine hadn't attacked Mustafa, we would be getting so much more done." He told the Azami senior tech for probably like the tenth time. He sighed and looked over the internal tram way. "I wish we had found this place," so many toys to play with as it were, "sooner," Again something he had said before, but really... so much was here.

Tristan had summarized what had happened.

If the combine hadn't attacked... or that hadn't been that ghastly business in the command center... which he still wasn't sure what that had been about, but later... later. If the combine hadn't attack Ford was sure that they'd have been able to explore the 63^rd Mechanized Infantry Division's garrison as well.

Tristan's anti aircraft fire against the escaping DropShips had destroyed the fleeing vessels over the ocean... well really it was more of a sea, but same difference. The SLDF units whose breadcrumbs he had managed to suss out, the records of communication ultimately had lead to Elidere, and it was disappointing to have learned that Kerensky didn't seemed to have had a plan at all... beyond just leaving the Inner Sphere of course.

The Triumph left to sleep in the hangar had been built in 2735 by a now defunct Terran firm which had not survived Amaris's tyranny... never mind lived to see the horrors of the succession wars. A hundred twenty nine meters long the aerodyne dropship managed to still look small in its slip. The Dropship slips were intended to as needed accommodate Titan or Vengeance class ASF carriers, which were both such behemoths that either were wider than than Triumph was long.

But for what they were going to do, well they needed something that would be able to move an entire armor battalion to Ander's Moon. Mustafa plugged a terminal into a port. "Its going to take us a couple of days."

Tristan's voice came over the speaker, "I've already a series of recommendations based on data from Ander's Moon. I will forward those to Commander Shepherd."

"How many vehicles can this carry?"

"Forty five heavy vehicles, plus two lances of lights," Mustafa answered.

"Forty five, that's a bit odd of a number." Ford complained shaking his head, "Okay then what do we need to do from here?"

"Pre flight checks, I can bring some astechs in, we'll check fuel, the intakes and the drives." Mustafa looked down at his terminal, "this looks promising, but we'll need to refuel, and do manual inspections."

"I'll go back to the central terminal and see about getting the beacons lined up." The lift back was designed to allow a quick step into a transparent aluminum ... casemate, bubble or sorts that gave one a protected view of the inside of the individual hangar bays that connected to a central area, that could be closed off by bays. Apparently it had been designed to allow safety, advertised as a way to prevent fires from spreading.

Nearly nothing of the facility was above ground. The old access roads had been completely overgrown and demolished and ... well all of the conveniences, the terminal stores, and duty free shops and so on... had been abandoned for centuries within the star port's subterranean sprawl. None of those had been touched.

Contemporary Elidere was asplash with ornate gables, wrought iron fencing around gardens, two and three storey buildings ending steeples or adorned with towers. The interior of the starport had plenty of arches, but was a network of of angles and glass, and clean white walls.

Now that the fusion reactor was safely powered on everything was now well lit, and he couldn't even see the recessed ports for the red emergency lighting. The hallways would have once been filled with people, but by the time of the fall of 2785 fewer and fewer people were making regular jumpship travel. The house lords had already been preparing for the first succession war by that point... and of course it would be long that without people tending to the facility that it would be forgotten as the horrors of the first succession war had erupted.

The elevator dinged as it opened leaving in a control chamber completely unlike the ones that predominated the contemporary inner sphere. Most spaceports built in the first and second succession wars, never mind after had been thrown up on the surface of a planet, sometimes, often, several hundreds of square kilometers in area with multiple control towers poking into the sky. There were more computers, and control systems that could minimize the number of personnel needed to run a facility this size, and yet this was capable of directing and shuttling emergency traffic and diversions from the entire hemisphere if it had never needed to.

A holographic map of the solar system the size of a duke's feasting table showed Elidere IV in precise detail along with all of the major stellar objects in the solar system, including cleanly the Jumpships. As if reading his thoughts Tristan's voice projected through one of the spidery drones that had managed to sneak in after him, "Unfortunately with the degredation of Elidere's air defense network we cannot rely on this projection exclusively for detecting enemy air assets."

"We can't?"

"Theoretically conventional 'air breathers' would likely be able to avoid detection, detection of ASF powered by fusion drives and smaller dropships might also be able to exploit the gaps in coverage to mount an attack."

"But the combine doesn't even know we have this," He pointed.

"To the best of our knowledge," Tristan reproved, "I am obliged to apprise you of the conditions as I observe. The enemy could exploit vulnerabilities in system coverage. A Triumph class dropship is not designed to make a landing in contested airspaces." A pause, "orbital entry, and final touch down will depend on when exactly we depart, the enemy will have some degree of warning, though precisely how much will be dependent on their own command and control's ability to monitor. It will be imperative we secure a landing site before attempting to bring the Triumph in."


The AI's pause was more pronounced this time, "Tristan?"

"Apologies, the enemy regimental commander is dead, artillery going out now." The machine declared.

"Well thats good right, cut the head off the snake," No pun intended, "And all that?" He didn't get an immediate response, "Well I'm sure you're busy." There was that whole other battalion on approach.
--
Notes, so what in theory this should have entailed, is a section several days earlier dealing with Ford having access to resources, for lack of better description a directory, and then a follow on of taking a team up to actually acess the star portbut as I said this was originally cut from Staff interlude.

 

I Davion
First Davion [Contract]​

Jasos City
May 3017

Without the threat of Combine attack, or at least the immediate threat of a DCMS Mech Battalion coming down, or an air raid the capital of Elidere IV had begun to return to normal even though Ander's moon wasn't so lucky. Gene finished lacing his new pair of boots. Lord Aaron was paying them to liberate Ander's Moon... or keep the Combine Ground Pounders occupied until reinforcements arrived when Pasha and the Jumpships carrying them came round. ... so they were officially under contract with the Field Marshal of the Draconis March of the Federated Suns.

The door opened up to bring everyone in. They weren't going to need JumpShips for their own machinations de le geure. It would be simple in its own way. Get on the DropShips fly to the gas giant's habitable moon and execute what was a cracking flank maneuver before the Vandenburgs could be overwhelmed... but if it was to succeed they needed to go. They needed to get underway soon.

He'd expected Ford patching the Triumph would have been the issue, or loading up the drones or onloading their own mechs Baffins, or armor Sam Houston. They were but not the only issues. "Do you even sweat?" Bard grunted, speaking of the spare full body black pilot suit tossed on the table, then shook his head. "The duke has agreed to the plan," not that he had really much choice in the face of Aaron Sandoval telling him to, but having him sign off on it made things easier. It bolstered their numbers by another company of mechs. This would be closer to a fair fight that way, "We're loading as it is, but we're going to have to land."

"I wasn't going to suggest an orbital insertion."

The look Cameron gave him suggested that he wasn't sure Gene was telling the truth.

Abner shuffled in, "I'm quite appreciative of that consideration for those of us getting on in years." The professor declared, "The Combine are having to fight an incursion across a quarter million square miles, but they've done most of the heavy fighting, the Dukes of House Vandenburg have been driven back into their core heartlands and most of the ducal guard is, well its not good. The canyons allow their infantry and they've ambushed the enemy with tanks, but since the McBrin have been overrun the Combine are closing the noose. Its only a matter of time, I'm afraid."

If Elidere IV or at least this slice of it reminded him of England Ander's moon had, presumably been terraformed, to be a dead ringer for a swathe of southern mexico writ large... unfortunately deforestation and subsequent desertification and all the fighting meant... there were strips of barren terrain that was closer to desert than the jungle.

Having thirty something Combine mechs tramping through everything, and shooting inferno missiles into productive farms didn't help either. "There is one thing I do want to touch on," that the combine probably would not have stuck around this long. If he was being blunt... the information that htey had put together at this point, if it was accurate. Then this had supposed to be just a stupid raid, a macho posing peacock display of look how tough we are. Go in trash some shit, maybe steal some stuff... it was little more than state sponsored piracy, "We've put the Combine into a place they can't escape from, we should be prepared that they will fight to the last man, and atrocities against civilians should be taken as likely." The DCMS were backed into a corner and were going to fight... and that was probably going to be messy.

That meant they needed to fight smarter... the last thing he wanted was the fact that they were no longer lopsidedly out numbered to mean they'd start doing stupid shit.

Doctor Abner cleared his throat, coughed again, "Well Second Battalion 19^th has had its share of losses, regrettably fewer than we might have liked, but we are still facing two largely full mech companies with some support and a small reserve of mechs." There was no word on how much technical support the Combine had, or if they'd be able to repair their damaged or replace their lost mechs, but it wasn't something they expected either, "The Headquarters of the Second Battalion appears to be a Stalker that determination is based on the fall of Castle McBrin."

Gene resisted the urge to run his hand through his hair, which the auto-doc inside the Castle had trimmed down to regulation length as he stood up, the new boots clacking against the teak hardwood floors. The holographic globe shifted, adjusting into a flight path from Jasos City, a simplification, and Elidere orbit to Ander's Moon of the DropShips. "The assault force will move as a convoy formation, and will separate in the last moment for descent." The individual dropships would be miles apart but the idea was to give as much anti air cover as possible up until the last minute. "We will step our landings," The orbital telemetry dissolved into a map of the 'planet's surface, "I will be going with Bahar and Hanzo and heading up a tactical group to secure the initial landing here. The Baffins will land, here, and offload its Mech Compliment," A combination of their assets, and some volunteers with lights and mediums. A second Union-class appeared a few miles away, "Bard will offload the main Elidere forces here, and the San Saba," The Triumph, "Will land in the middle, to offload our armor assets."

Tristan had made advisements on what form the battalion of armor that could be carried aboard the more than eight and a half thousand ton aerodyne should comprise of. There were pros and cons of different vehicles. Elidere was a bit more mild of a climate than Ander's moons more tropical humidity but that shouldn't readily effect operations.

The two lances of fifty ton hover drones had been easy. Figuring out which eight tonners to bring was a harder choice. The Furys with their gauss rifles were an excellent example of the trade off. Their range was one thing, but ammunition would be a problem... that and having them damaged would be an issue. While Hegemony doctrine held drone units to be expendable and to be used at the discretion of Terran troops as needed to destroy enemy forces, Gene had already intended to risk them as little as possible. The range of the gauss rifle, and ammunition constraints had to contend with the risk of them being destroyed, and someone poking around in the internals. That and, once they were done with them they'd need to be flown back to Elidere and returned to Tristan for maintenance and used to keep the outpost castle secure.

"There are two primary considerations." A direct conventional engagement was the more likely, but there was, "The Combine may agree to resolve this in effectively single combat." Mech to Mech, he spared a brief glance to Bahar, "This would minimize casualties but would need to be recognized on both sides. Individual Mechwarriors, only. When we touch down a message can be transmitted to establish a basic frame work for these duels." Tristan had organized the frame work based on historical ronin duels interspaced with enough flowery language and quotes from his first edition Dictum Honorium. "The frame work should preempt the combine from making a challenge. If they accept we will reciprocate." It probably wouldn't save the Vandenberg defenders but it would buy time for the Field Marshal's relief forces to arrive. "The alternative is a conventional action." At least in the sense of actually fighting with combined arms.

The two unions would offload two understrength companies each of mechs. Not ideal but it was what they had. He wasn't happy precisely that Abner was insisting on joining the Baffins deployment, but they weren't in a position to refuse the firepower contributed by the Atlas. They hadn't had enough time to find other pilots, and techs hadn't had near enough time to salvage and bring any downed combine mechs back on line so they were going to use what they had immediately ready to go.

There first objective was to take a town along a river, and then move along it for the roughly two days travel northward to where it took a sharp eastward bend. The Combine Battalion were acting as independent mech companies, and they wanted to cut the force that had taken Castle McBrin from consolidating if they tried to do that.

Their information on current opposition was limited, incomplete. Their two mech companies were going spread out and act independently across the front, simply because they needed cover that area.
--
"You saw what they did at Scarborough, can't let that play out somewhere else," Abner informed his protégé. "And besides, I'll be in a proper BattleMech. That Atlas will keep me safe enough." He continued on. He cleared his throat, "Well that out of the way, we have other matters to discuss."

The conversation took a darker turn. In LosTech prospecting it wasn't uncommon for double crosses to happen, Spies were an unpleasantness, but not an unexpected one. Interstellar Expeditions ordinarily prided itself on its background checks but sometimes there slip ups... or just rivalries that went a bit too far.

They would take the appropriate precautions.

"What about, well,"

"Miss Bahar. You did pull the Kolassa file from the directory didn't you?"

"I did." Ford replied.

"And?" Abner asked leaning forward, bushy eyebrows knitting in anticipation.

"Tristan estimates that the nuclear strike on Bristol by the Combine at the start of the first succession would not have breached the secure underground storage facilities. They're basically bunkers after all."

Abner nodded, "Well that's another reason for me to go like this. We're going to hand Hanse Davion a victory that has resulted in the destruction of an entire Combine Regiment, I trust you'll be able to leverage this with your contacts."

Ford somewhat reluctantly nodded. There was no way they were going to tell the Federated Suns about the Outpost Castle. Never mind because Ford suspected that the Hegemony AI would trigger the nuclear magazine of the facility to deny it to a successor state... and that was just completely an unacceptable risk. Tristan was an invaluable insight into the Hegemony of the Star League. It would be almost unthinkable as admitting to a successor state that they'd found a Hegemony officer who'd been shoved into a stasis pod after Amaris had been defeated and Terra liberated.
--

Commentary: Some of the Ford, Abner scene including comments about the Wolfs Dragoons it simply wasn't working. This is as obviously implied the First Davion Contract, hence I Davion. It will be roughly equivalent in length with Elidere, or for that matter II Luxen if you haven't checked that out it has its own thread for the expansion of that, but its not necessary to read either. It just adds some extra content.

 

I Davion Part 2
May 3017​

Within a fitful sleep, The golden bird flexed its talons slashing at the black snake before lifting it up to perch on the fortress walls, Septim shook himself as the rumbling engines made their course corrections. He stretched, "What time is it?"

"We're still two hours out."

Septim nodded, and yawned, "At least Haqim managed to talk the boss out of his orbital insertion plan." ... though probably only because no one else had the certifications. The jump at Luxen had been crazy, but Septim supposed it made sense. "What needs to be done?"

"Final checklist before we start operations." Doctor Abner declared coming down the ladder, "Especially important since we've a few more friends along Mr Alexander, sorry yes the both of you," He chuckled to himself.

Septim nodded to the older Lyran, "Yeah, Stingers and Blackjacks," They weren't going to be a whole lot of use, he felt, "any suggestions doc?"

"If the combine agree to settle this like gentlemen," And his tone suggested he doubted that, "There won't be much for them to do I'm afraid. If it comes to a brawl though... well that will make it a real mess."
--
Technically speaking the Sam Houston wasn't even pushing her engines at all. The aerodyne combined arms carrier could have left the two Unions well behind, but that would have defeated the purpose, "Any sign of ASF?"

"No sir."

Good, "We're going to start the briefing." The Azami ensign at the comms panel hit the requisite intercom to direct to the briefing room, as he turned away from the view of the gas giant. The Sam Houston had room for two square companies of infantry, but they hadn't left Alamut in the deep periphery with Azami infantry. They just hadn't been available. Truthfully he was surprised to have the volunteers for the technical support section he had, but he had the armor. The infantry they had hired on Detroit were aboard Baffins. The plan was to have them dig in and emplace their SRM and support lasers to deter any Combine light mechs that felt froggy.

The Sam Houston's briefing room was not the biggest, and with a full complement it would probably would have been better to hold it inside the vehicle bays, but this was officers only. So while not a lot of space was enough for them and the hologlobe.

Three Mechs, and a company of armor... a demi lance and a company of armor. "Our immediate priority is to dismount the dropship and punch forward to each respective zone." The plan was to take a forward position and spread the pairs of six hover vehicles out. The LRMs they carried wouldn't be much of a deterrent, but it'd give them something of a trip wire. The Daiymyo, and its minder would offload next, extending their lines of communication to the east towards the Elidere Volunteers. The heavy armor would have to come off last.

It was doubtful the combine would be able to confront the landings. They would have had to pivot and drive the opposite of their advance. The only things that might be able to contest the Sam Houston's offload would be light mechs but the bigger issue would be covering the perimeter and securing a landing zone for San Saba.

In an ideal landing Baffins would have offloaded the Atlas II and Professor Abner would have its communication array up to anchor the western command link.

The problem was offloading everything before the combine could recognize something was going on. Most likely they'd notice four dropships, two of which were unions, on the descent phase. What the combine response would look like... well they wouldn't know that until they were on the ground.

He hunched forward, and looked at the holographic representations of Combine Mechs. Hideously grinning jack o lanterns floated over the map. The Dragon was the Combine's standard heavy mech, being even more common than the catapult, or the Grasshopper.

They had talked about and discarded any orbital insertion to directly relieve castle Vandenberg. They were fighting the clock though. If the Combine succeeded in taking out the defenders before they landed this would be significantly harder. With a heavy sigh, he rotated the holographic projection, "Alright, contingent on the Combine accepting mech duels as a conflict resolution tool, armor assets will offload establish a perimeter, and screen while the San saba unloads its unit. Our principle objective in that case will be to screen, and insure that the artillery can be offloaded quickly and effectively." The grid shifted, "If that happens our objective shifts to engaging the combine mechs as we offload. The tactical objective of concentrating our armor forces in the event the Combine breaks the agreement," At which point in theory they would hammer and anvil the shit out of the combine in a classic double envelopment... but that of course assumed the combine choosing to agree in the first place.

A tone sounded... not that it was really needed the feeling of turbulence more than signaled to everyone present that they were now on their final approach and that very very soon they would be touching down on the dust ball. He checked the last page of the report... estimated highs put the temperatures at over a hundred degrees Fahrenheit and then a sharp decline after dark.

"And if the combine refuses single combat?"

"Then we will attempt to narrow their avenue of approach by Fascam, and attempt to force them to come to us, or failing that cut them off from their dropships and harass them at range until we can isolate and destroy enemy leadership."
--
Sam Houston made a relatively soft landing, easier than some helicopters as it settled under its VTOL oriented fusion drive that then slowly whirred dimming and then cutting off. After a moment to let the dust outside settle, the cameras outside began feeding surrounding footage, and a light flicked on in the bay. A green bay door light flipped on replacing the red on signaling it had unlocked.

The harnesses started to click off one by one down the line easing his marauder away from the secured gantry. Bahar's Mongoose was already loose of its restraints and easing its reactor through the start up checklist.

"Commander, the Baffins has ignited their beacon, and are on final descent now. They should be out of contact for approximately twenty minutes."

He nodded looking into the camera, "Give them another five minutes, and check the radar, and lidar tell me if we get any returns by fast movers by then." The Unions were, well the Union-class was robust enough that it would very hard to take them out with anything but a significant commitment of air assets. The Unions should have been able to deter any in coming attack head on as they descended, but they didn't need to take an unnecessary risk. Once the mech carriers were on the ground and the Triumph was in its final approach they would go ahead with the broadcasting the challenge.
--
"We are receiving an incoming transmission, sir."

Sanada Sasuke, commander of Rekka Company, turned towards the communications officer who had called for the Battalion commander's attention. They had already been fast approaching the limit of their supply chain. If this had only been a raid it wouldn't have mattered, but they had committed to throwing down the descendants of traitors, and had had to go to great lengths to clear an area enough to avoid being harassed by the rabble.

"From the navy?"

"Its on all frequencies Major." A pause, and then the obvious, "The enemy." The communications officer remarked rigid holding the print out to the battalion commander.

Over the three weeks that they had been engaged in operations against the rebels there had been a steady break down in communication with other forces. The first indication that something was going wrong on elidere had been really the calling of reinforcements in the form of the regiment's 3^rd battalion.

There had been no indication when they had arrived in system of significant Davion resistance. General Samsonov in personal command of 1^st Battalion should have faced no more significant resistance than they had. Truthfully Operation Ashika had shown no indication of any meaningful resistance... and it was only with dawning horror as they pieced together what was happening on the other inhabitable world as 3^rd hurtled towards the planet.

General Samsonov's unit was being chewed up by some sort of heavy-medium Mech force supported by, by all indications their own supporting regiment of armor and artillery. Whispers had made their way around the the unit of Davion Guards who'd been on exercise. They hadn't had any real confirmation... just a game telephone as the DCA personnel communicated with one another and then rumors making their way from dropship crew to dropship crew to DCMS personnel.

... and then General Samsonov had been killed in battle. They had been able to intercept the broadcasts of the duel. A white Marauder had cut down the Atlas after each had exchanged volleys. The only White paint scheme in entry recognition for House Davion were the Avalon Hussars, which did at least support the theory that they had stumbled upon Davion elite. The Avalon Hussars would have been the right sort of unit to field medium and heavy BattleMechs.

That should have been explanation enough. Save that it was dispelled... by the Mech's upper hull, and the crest painted there. A torri gate featuring a proud looking bird.

Sanada didn't realize he'd been hovering beside his superior until the major cleared his throat, and with a sour look foisted the paper at him. They had been challenged... that was likely the only reason the major hadn't berated him for getting so close. Sanada swallowed to himself.

"We must accept." Major Hashiba replied after a moment, "Assemble your company. They've sent this challenge planet wide... I would not be surprised if the DropShips and JumpShips both received copy of a challenge in accordance to the wisdom of the Dragon, and Bushido."
--

The damage was extensive. Hell extensive was probably an understatement... the combine pilot had really beat the shit out the Merlin. Septim would be fine, but the rebuild would take, more time than they had, "What do we even have on hand?"

The senior Azami tech shook his head in the negative. "Its pretty bad." He declared continuing to shake his head. Then at the question of if it could be rebuilt he nodded, slowly, "We don't have a spare engine."

"Can you retrofit that spare 300?" Haqim frowned. He had planning a conversation with regards to approaching Mountain Wolf BattleMechs with a faster 'cavalry' Merlin with a VLAR 300 but he wasn't even sure if they were even interested in that proposal. "If you can do it, replace the PPC with one of the large Lasers in the hold,"

... and so gradually the Merlin's rebuild was sketched out even as assistant techs build off burned and busted parts of the machine. The Martell Model 5s would be the easiest thing to replace, with Magna Mk II. The real good news was that Septim wasn't going to end up dispossessed the mech could be rebuilt. Talk of the LRM 10 was considered before being decided against to put in just a second LRM 5, both for gyro balancing, and cost and availability.

He was through the door, and down the hatch, "Who's next up?" He asked passing Bahar coming from the outside.

"Bard."

"And?"

"He should be fine," She replied. "Septim?"

"He's fine, his opponent?"

"I'm not sure about the pilot but I don't know if they'll be able to get the Dragon operational quickly." Gene nodded... that was technically a victory then. "The enemy commander is still delaying until all of his officers have had a chance to find an opponent." That was actually fewer mechs than one might have thought. The Galedons did have enlisted mech warriors, and while those samurai were entitled to the chance for honorable combat it was not the same as giving their social betters the opportunity to fight.

"Anything I should be worried about."

"Regarding this?" She asked, and shook her head, "No, this is entirely normal. I believe he's prepared to see this to its completion."

The quotes from the Dictum Honorium had apparently been what had made the difference, though Gene was sure having basically broadcasted the challenge to the whole damn system had probably helped. Quoting Kurita Omi by name had probably ensured that the samurai felt it absolutely necessary to do this above board... and well... if they didn't... well he'd taken precautions against treachery.

They had twenty... twenty six mechwarriors and mechs ready to go. "Is Hanzo going to need to switch mechs?"

"The Cicada is fine."

"If you need to you can swap to the other mongoose." He suggested, Bahar gave him a dark look in response, "We're in a situation where realistically, I would very seriously consider swapping to another fresh mech. That is an advantage that we currently enjoy."

The walk outside showed a large holographic... for lack of a better description a billboard with brackets on it. Every combine officer ... who was a mechwarrior was on one side displayed in a format similar but not identical to the way the 'judicial duel' on detroit had been displayed. That might have been slightly more reassuring if they had actually had precentor Killos along to record and adjudicate any disputes.

Opposite the brackets was another projected 'billboard' projecting a mech scale projection of first edition handbrushed copy of the dictum honorium.

The Combine Mechwarrior was a ready looking red haired man who looked about Bard's age... and looked more academic than soldier, especially peering at the image. The kilted david bowie look a like was waiting on their side, "They're all doing that," He drawled as the Combine Warrior bowed to the words of Omi Kurita, then his superior and fellow DCMS officers. "Means he's ready to die."

Bard Cameron set off for his Wolverine leaving them to watch both Mechwarriors approach the fighting arena... or the area marked off in the middle of the dry river bed that they were using for it. "Is he really going to let Sutton fight?"

"Do we really have a choice?"

... not really, "He has a 6MD." which meant Sutton had the advantage of armor protection, but it was a wonder to him that the Mech's XL engine even worked.

"That works to his advantage, these duels emphasize ranged combat until a participant concedes that they can't hit. They won't want to admit that in a duel with a green mechwarrior his age." That reminded him that Samsonov had been trying to close with him before Gene had shot him down. "They won't be expecting 30 LRMs a salvo. That should let him win his match." Bahar assured him... and that would be the last duel of the day and then dinner.

Then theoretically they would all say see you tomorrow and fall back to their respective camps, and wait until tomorrow. "My concern goes beyond that," Gene remarked, "I don't particularly want lord Vandenberg getting involved in this, but I've got no way to stop him if he shows up in his orion." Worse, Lord Michael Cameron Vandenberg coming to this dance would knock him down in the queue which wasn't by itself a problem... except it would mean that the local duke would be fighting the enemy battalion CO's Stalker.

--
Septim groaned, his mouth was dry, and had the faint lingering metallic taste of blood. He smelled disinfectant, "ugh what happened." He voice came out more of a distorted croak.

A few seconds later, "You lost." A synthetic voice remarked through a speaker. The Star League AI tristan broadcasting through a relay somewhere beaming back to Elidere IV. "Unfortunately the brackets are proving a bit more in the draconis combine's favor." The AI tut tutted.

"Bahar was coming up,"

"And she won. As it happens putting an SRM 6 with specialty munitions into a machine that already by design runs hot is remarkably effective." A heavy sigh, "Optimally we can buy more time."

"Any sign of SLDF beacons here?"

"Its not that simple." The AI replied to the question. "The local feudal powers have coopted much of the Star League era infrastructure, but that has largely meant salvaging it and relocating it into their... own castles." Septim didn't have much of an idea of what Ander's moon had been like during the Star League, but the first and second succession wars had seen the ascension of the ancient colonial families into positions of power when the Davions had taken over in recognition of their part in taking the planet from House Kurita. "I expect any regimental or battalion structures left from the 63rd Mechanized Infantry Division would have been picked over, if not by deserters than by subsequent scavengers. I have seen no indication that any directional guides are operational."

That just meant they weren't likely to get any more help. "What are the snake's doing?"

"It appears that their last company is maintaining a rear guard, or staying deployed along the front to prevent the planetary elite from sallying. Its just as likely they can't move either. Something will have to give."

Septim scratched at the scab along his scalp. "What do you mean?" He asked as he reached for the water.

"The Combine has very, very limited supporting forces. The 19th Galedon deployed with just its mech forces and some infantry. Infantry which is outnumbered by the local militia. In responding to the challenge the Combine may have pulled enough forces back to answer the duel to allow a local break out."

"That's good right?"

"The DCMS has numerical BattleMech Superiority."

"scheiße," He attempted to sit up pulling the IV. "Shit.

The AI continued without noticing the expletive, "Degredation of force strength is according to my projections expected to continue over the next several days of combat."

"What happened to my mech?"

"Presently being retrofitted. It won't be possible to repair it in time." Tristan's tone implied he wasn't sure it should even be a priority. A tone sounded. "I can connect you to Haqim in the hangar if you like, but I must take my leave captain."

 

I Davion
Part 3​

They had relocated to the remains of... what his map beacon said had been a precious jewel mine that had at some point eaten a nuke during the first or second succession war. It had been a small nuke of course, an alamo was the most likely culprit. Background radiation was nothing dangerous... though you probably didn't want to drink the water without double checking it, if you could help it... but that was more likely a is this tainted by industrial mining run off than the nuke.

In real terms though it made a change of pace to duel the combine in. The truth was that the Combine had a greater reserves of Mechs though... and it was starting to show. Hanzo's Cicada was after three rounds no longer able to continue... and they were lucky it had lasted that long. Bahar was hanging on, but Septim's early knockout from the 'competition' had done them no favors.

In a way he was kind of glad that the Combine only apparently had the single Stalker left in the Assault weight class. Abner had yet to be challenged, and most of the fighting had been confined to medium and heavy weight mechs.

The grey white Marauder paced into the arena at a canter. The big pit was ... well miles across, complete with access to mining shafts large enough for BattleMechs. He reached up to adjust the Dalban as it lased a connection to Abner's Atlas II, and from there to the SLDF Drones waiting. They had a trip wire of Furys standing by, but he was hoping that that wouldn't be necessary.

"You killed General Samsonov?"

"and," Well probably both first and thirds officers... though Bahar could have nailed 3^rd Battalion's CO... "Colonel Tanida as well."

"Ah, did he die well?"

"Cleanly, at least." He replied.

"A good death is its own reward." The pudgy major agreed taking his eighty five tonner over the concrete divider, and low chain with a sandblasted stop sign.

Gene blinked through the notification to relay his report on weapon performance to Hegemony R&D as he turned master arm on, and unsafed the Marauder's weapons. He didn't respond to his opposite's comment... even though he'd almost quipped that was a lot more appealing when a Valkyrie said it.

A timer from the projector started. A bright red 3 2 1...

The Assault class workhorse fired both LRM 10s and large lasers. Only the lasers came close but the LRMs kicked up a mass of dirt and dust that filled the old open pit mine. Not that he needed visuals, the heat on thermals through the MMI feed from his Dalban made the bigger mech standout. PPCs opened, scoring angry blue, and then orange white flames as the dust burned into the left torso armor of the Stalker.

Major Hashiba did not immediately return fire. A few seconds passed, and for a moment Gene considered whether or not his own thermals had given an implication away regarding the fact his mech had double heat sinks. His Dalban had started flagging comms traffic through the net... something else was going on.

Hashiba's face appeared, "Ah, gomen, a moment please to resolve this disturbance."

Gene nodded silently and the channel closed. Once the line was closed his eyes narrowed, he didn't like this. He knew the combine had another company out there checking the locals... and the most obvious situation was that something had happened with them. They clearly hadn't stolen a march this way, as he was relatively sure that would have tripped their pickets on look out. He keyed the SLDF secure royal comm channel, "Abner whats going on?"

"The DCA just broadcasted something. It wasn't, it wasn't a message, some kind of warning. I'm trying to resolve now, Tristan said he'd get back to me." The professor replied from his Atlas. His first assumption was incoming airpower of some sort. Conventional Air Breathers, ASF, other dropships... which was close but not quite accurate. Abner's line reconnected to his mech, "Mister Pasha has returned with Davion regulars to reinforce."

Which sounded great. It did. Except that there were a bunch of combine mechs around them, and the distance from Jump point was measures in literally a week and change. "Stand by." He turned the com laser to Hashiba's stalker, "Given the situation we have a few days to resolve this before the new comers spoil things." Please work... please don't decide to banzai charge into a general free for all.

Hashiba's image solidified, "Hai. I am prepared to resume." The still running warm eighty five tonner lumbered forward a couple of paces, and fired the same weapons to a similar though magnified effect of kicking up an interminable amount of dust.

In hindsight it made sense that the auto cannon would jam eventually, and would choose to do so after that three round burst had woofed over the Stalker and bit into the pit mine's outer ring. The PPCs slashed into armor, but Gene cursed the missed shot and not having advanced all the same, especially as Hashiba once again advanced his mech and the SRMs joined the LRMs pushing the Stalker dangerously hot.

He grunted as a missile found its way home in the mech's shoulder while another probably had his the left arm. The rattling subsided as he glanced at the inoperable notice due to the jammed ammunition feed. Gene reached up to safe the Autocannon as a matter of procedure and brought both Medium Lasers online. The strikes his the beak, but more center armor line than the cockpit, probably all on the center armor belt if he had to guess.

No lasers this time, Hashiba had figured out getting closer was the way to insure his big mech could hit, and they were within three hundred meters. After the vibrations cleared though and he blinked through the armor display he flipped off the PPCs and punched the left torso, and into the ammunition bin for the SRM 6 that just made his ears ring. An explosion followed and something in the mech's shoulder gave, probably fragments into the gyro given how the Stalker suddenly lurched rightwards and took two drunk steps in that direction as it tried to correct.

Hashiba was already too far, overcorrecting for the lurch and pushing his nose the other way and brought his mech forward as he did so. A warning indicator on the Marauder's dash warned him of hte incoming alpha strike a split second too late the right SRM 6 sent two wide entirely flying into the wall behind, another smacked his left arm again, a torso, and left leg. Gene rearmed the PPC advanced into effectively point blank and fired both through the cockpit at roughly forty meters in a gratifyingly gratuitous overkill coup de grace. "Tristan, stand by for potential fire mission." He ordered as he started tagging secondary target areas for the AI. He wouldn't have time to direct the drones so the best he'd be able to do was assign targets in specific areas, or specific enemy units.


A Dragon walked down into the arena the jack o'lantern painted on it wreathed in stylized flames. "My turn." The pilot declared raising his autocannon... and then proceeded to completely underestimate the range and drop all five shots of the burst into the dirt seventy odd yards from the Marauder's feet.

Gene keyed his mike, "Standby," He ordered along the company channel. His hands found the joysticks and adjusted his machine to face the new challenger. A glance at the controls informed him the DHS were doing their job at least where with standards he'd have been fighting serious waste heat from the Extended Range PPCs he didn't have that problem ... or at least not as much of it.

Not that Sanada had any real way to know that as his sixty tonner found that his Imperator A had fallen short, direct fire energy weapons didn't so much drop as disperse... and didn't do that at ranges below a kilometer... not to any meaningful degree in the Hellstar's case. At half a kilck both PPCs hit the grey snout of the Rekka company command mech, relatively high for where he'd been aiming. One and a quarter tons of armor boiled away under ball lighting, and leaving less than a ton protecting the internals of the sixty ton mech's center torso.


The almost painfully cliche totem mech of the Combine charged head on right arm sending another five rounds down range, and missiles spewing from blackened chest. He might have honestly been better off doing one or another. Running and shooting while possible was often not practical. A second pair of lightning bolts burned through the rest of the armor and into the center torso, failing to find anything critical in its VLAR 300 but either hitting, or as a by product of the particle beams, otherwise fritzing the gyro sending the mech crashing into the dirt.

He heard professor Abner give a quiet sigh over the line as the Dragon's engine went dark.
--
Septim resisted the urge to rub his nose, and sucked in another breath. "Where's the boss?" He asked looking around the Daimyo for something to do.

"Currently on patrol as a precaution."

Leaving aside that he was pretty sure the combine troops who hadn't died in the duels had found themselves in something the bossed called a double envelopment, which seemed like just a really complicated pincer maneuver involved two dozen heavy drone tanks suddenly crawling up the snakes' backside... "Ok where is Bahar?"

"Liaising with the JumpShips." The Maganac officer replied.

He wasn't sure if the six JumpShips, he didn't think so, that had been stated to be at the Nadir point included the Combine JumpShips or not... they could have been at Zenith he wasn't sure. Whatever the case they had a few days to untangle the mess before things moved on. "So what's this then?"

"The report for the 63^rd Mechanized Infantry Division Depot we managed to get open." The Armor captain declared. "We're going to take stock of what's there, and rearm and refit with what we can. We noticed it has spare parts, myomer bundles some vehicles we can load as replacements. Most of the depot was cleaned out by units Tristan reported were subsequently shot down over the ocean."

The mention of the AI made sense. They weren't going to tell the natives about the Star League Machine spirit or its castle... hell to the best of Septim's knowledge after the ... probably combine spy .... traitorous TA they weren't even going to mention the castle at all. Most of the Interstellar personnel didn't even know, and the hidden tram line was separate from the others sealed off behind a hidden door with some kind of super secret hegemony lock that only responded to the credentials of Hegemony Knights or something... "Are we going to hand it over to the Davions?"

"That's the plan. The facility anyway, but we need to take the San Saba," Their new Triumph, "And I need a ranking officer to supervise."

... you're the only one who isn't busy went unsaid, but certainly implied. "Well," Septim chuckled, even though it hurt to laugh with his nose, "Well I'm not doing anything lets go be industrious."
--
They had given the DCMS personnel two choices ... well three the implied you could always surrender though had been there. The first of course was to resume dueling this out in honorable single combat and stuff. The second was to go to a full free for all. What they hadn't exactly mentioned was that they had already begun collapsing their armor pickets into the area around the dueling space, and had unsafed the Sam Houston's weapons in case they picked the latter.

Most of the Combine warriors had picked the former though.

It would still take ... probably weeks of work to repair all of the damage, months even but such was the case. Nothing he could do about it. That left him with other things to do. Ford was sitting at one of the terminals, "Did you write this?"

Gene leaned over to look at the screen. "I did."

"This is good." The Federated Suns native laughed, "I mean especially if you wanted to really tweak the combine's nose."

' ... The Kazoku, or most commonly translated as peerage, on Terra was abolished in 1947. It had replaced an earlier split aristocracy in the form of the Shizoku and Kuge to distinguish them from commoners... to that extent this historical backing creates problems with the modern Combine's preferred rendering.

Daimyo means great name, and while it is not completely unreasonable to equate this to mean to Marquis Tozama Daimyo were in the ancient rules of Japan on Terra were 'great names' who existed as part of lineages who were not historical vassals of the last of Japan's great unifiers. Indeed Marquis might be a more appropriate use of Tozama Daimyo than Daimyo as a stand alone... within the Kazoku the equivalent to the English Marquess, the basis for the latter unified Terran peerage, was Koshaku. Count, or Earl, was equivalent in the Kazoku...'

It went on, and into a summary table, with a distinction in the characters to write Koshaku for Prince or Marquess respectively Then through count, viscount and baron.'

"I just found the Combine's use of Shogun for Ducal titles to be, quite silly, and it spiraled from there."

Ford marveled at him, and laughed, "I have to have a copy of this. OR better yet, get the Professor to circulate it on New Kyoto, they'll be happy to publish it." Ford's humor continued, "I mean for that matter, your annotations on the first edition of the Dictum Honorium were really what I was looking to read. I could never get through the modern edition of the book. Its positively exhausting to read through."

"What edition are they up to?"

"The eleventh, revision they call it. Horribly ponderous, six volumes." He shook his head, "I heard about Mr Alexander, he's going to be alight?"

"He's got a broken nose from the ejection seat, but at least it worked." He replied, "The Merlin will be getting a rebuild." was being rebuilt.

Ford prepared to say something, but stopped as the sagging tired form of professor Abner saddled into a spare chair, "I know its part of the job, but I feel horrible." He exhaled, "I never expected all of this, I certainly didn't mean for you to end up wrapped up in the games of the great houses, or their bloody wars." He complained that while the dig had exceeded his wildest expectations and he couldn't say things had not been worth it, "We will pay you for all the damage, and passage to Robinson at least. We'll be going there as well. In fact, Mr Ford?"

"There is a good chance that we will be all of us going to New Avalon apparently Precentor Vandal of New Avalon is apoplectic at the Combine's man taking their man on Elidere hostage in the HPG station. Word about what all else has happened on Elidere has also started making the news. You'll never have to buy drinks in at least the Draconis March ever again." Seeing his face twist, Abner's eye brows knitted up again, "Something the matter?"

"Normally I'd run this by Pasha," But the JumpShip Captain was still busy ferrying them more Davion reinforcement... that admittedly they didn't need. "We got in the 63^rd MID's depot," Not much there, most of its contents had probably been splashed into the sea when Tristan had shot down the Dropships... but that wasn't the point. "There is another depot that should be intact, its on Galtor Three."

"And you're wondering what to do with that information?"

"I'm not going there, to be honest, I need to hire more people, and that was true before we took this gig. The unit is understrength, and after this I'm prepared to spend money to get that underway," Even if he didn't expect to have that fixed, "before heading back to the periphery."

The two academics shared looks, "Well," Abner cleared his throat, and made a show of checking his ornate pocket watch, "I can understand that. I must be off my fellows, lunch is calling."

"Hiring would be a good idea. Lord Aaron I'm afraid is a man of grand ambitions and will want more from you than just this victory against the Combine. I think he plans to mount a grander offensive, especially if he can convince the First Prince." Ford remarked. "He's not the only duke of course."

Gene didn't need reminding of that. The Duke of Robinson wouldn't have been the only duke clamoring for their attention... because Sandoval had exemplified political astuteness by hedging his bets. He'd hired them on to lead the relief effort of Ander's moon after the destruction of the bulk of the Gaeldon regular, but it would probably be tidied up in media portrayals as 'Duke of Robinson's 'forces' fend off piratical kuritan invaders' accompanied by probably significant footage of Robinson regulars on victory parades after. While those Davion regulars were enroute the local aristocracy had other priorities now that the immediate military threat was over. "I thought you were handling that for us?" He responded after a minute.

"Oh certainly, the locals are peculiar, I keep hearing something about the chalice of herne. I've only seen pictures. Its part of why I was going to ask about the mech repair?"

"They're fitting my Marauder," Royal, "with replacement armor sections now." He could hardly use his other Marauder for a parade when all the locals had ever seen him use was the white one. "Have you seen Bard I know his wolverine nearly lost an arm."

"I have not, not today."

Gene nodded, "I was hoping to find out if he is planning to travel with us."

"You don't really have space on the Baffins, not if your planning to take anything with you, and you heard Professor Abner he insists on take his Atlas home with him, so he'll need berthing for the beast."

... and the Dervish. "Don't remind me," he halfheartedly protested. Even before hiring they were probably going to need to get another DropShip. He left and made his way out into the open sunshine of the starport near castle Vandenberg that loomed atop the hill in the distance. In spite of the sun it was quite mild now, barely eighty degrees compared to the hundred twelve high recorded a week ago.

Though he wasn't a native of Ander's moon the future robinson battle academy cadet Sutton and his Dervish were not hard to find. He was a native of Elidere IV and that was enough to draw a hero's homecoming welcoming for the teeming masses of people who had hidden behind Fortress Vandenburgs defenses against the combine. The fact that he had battle roms dueling combine medium mechs certainly didn't hurt either. It took a minute before Sutton could extricate himself from his adoring fans. "Colonel." The salute needed some work.

Gene returned the gesture, "Has your mech been looked over?"

"Uh yes sir." He replied with a boyish falter, "Are-"

"We're not under attack, I just wanted to make sure it had been seen to." It had an endosteel frame if that broke... the damage done Septim's merlin was going to be time consuming given all the wrecked heat sinks and everything else. "Have you seen Bard?"

"He's with some of the Robinson personnel, they're working on repairing his Wolverine for the parade now that you mention it."

Good, the truth was the Azami were already swamped for work as it. "Future classmates, or staff?"

"Its a bit of both, the training cadre was mobilized with the rangers to respond." The presence of the Robinson Rangers reflagged a concern he was going to hear some variation of either One Riot One Ranger, or Rangers Lead the way... or something similarly corny, but there was no helping it.

"Alright, I won't keep you, you look busy." He remarked glancing over the crowd that ws surprisingly not mobbing them... and he certainly didn't want to stick around for that.