With A Bared Sword

[drakensis]

With A Bared Sword
(A Battletech Alternate Universe by Drakensis)

Oh, the power to be strong
And the wisdom to be wise
All these things will come to you in time
On this journey that you're making
There'll be answers that you'll seek
And it's you who'll climb the mountain
It's you who'll reach the peak
- Son of Man, Phil Collins​

---

Prologue - Denial​

New Avalon Institute of Science, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
18 June 3052

Kate was vaguely aware of a chirping.

She wasn't sure how a bird had gotten into her dorm room, the windows couldn't be opened and no pets were allowed. But it was damned annoying, and it was waking her up.

During three years of military education, the young woman had learned that you sleep when you can because the enemy, in this case the professors, will sooner or later give you no chance to sleep. Not being awake was a precious commodity and this damned bird was - !

Her eyes snapped open and the blur of white in front of her told a familiar story: she had fallen asleep at her desk again. With what felt like a herculean effort, she lifted her head off her forearms, blinking away the tears as her eyes adjusted to no longer being shielded from the lamps.

The two person dorm room was as far away from how she'd been raised as she could imagine. The blonde was academically aware that some people lived in such poverty that the cold plastic floor and thinly-plastered cement block walls would be considered a step up. Field exercises had been a shock to her system, but those were outdoors so there hadn't been any expectation of a roof and walls there.

It was a double room, but her roommate for this year hadn't arrived yet so the upper bunk was still a bare mattress, while Kate's was made up to the expectations of drill sergeants. She probably ought to actually sleep on it, she thought, remembering being screamed at by a platoon lead and accused of thinking 'the issue bed wasn't good enough for her'.

The bird was still chirping and it wasn't until Kate finished rubbing her eyes that she realized it wasn't a bird - the shared comm-unit between the two desks was pinging for an inbound call.

With a groan, she pushed her notes on the right arm mechanism from a Guillotine battlemech aside, picked up the comm-unit and dropped it in front of her, stabbing the accept button. "What?"

"Kathy, you have ink on your face," her older brother said in a choked voice.

She was about to yell at Victor for waking her at - she looked at the comm's clock - more than an hour after midnight, before she remembered that Victor wasn't on New Avalon. He probably wasn't even in the star system yet - there was no way he could be calling her so this was a dream.

"Godammit," she muttered, "Why can't I dream about a solution for this damned myomer bundle, not a prank call." Her finger found the disconnect button and pressed it.

Arching her back, Kate twisted, trying to work out the familiar aches of sleeping hunched over her desk.

…wait, why was she feeling those aches if she was dreaming?

The comm pinged again and Kate groaned. Then, with great reluctance, she accepted the call. Once again she saw her brother's face appear on the small screen. "Victor, why are you calling me in the middle of the night? How are you calling me in the middle of the night?"

"Kathy, you need to come to the castle now."

"Wh-what?" She wiped her eyes again with the heel of one hand. "Hi Victor, long time, no see, you look well…?"

Victor looked like he wanted to swear. "Stop playing around."

"Oh I'm sorry, it's the middle of the night. I was asleep!"

"With ink on your face."

"Fine, fine!" She turned away and yanked open a drawer, looking for a mirror and some wet wipes to get the ink off her face. Her brother made an angry noise and Kate looked back at the comm. "What now?"

"Don't you know better than to fall asleep at your desk?"

(Someone in the background on Victor's end said something like "whole family of kettles")

"What are you even doing on New Avalon?" she asked, finding the wet wipes but no mirror. Taking one and wiping her cheeks blindly, she looked back at the comm, "Am I getting the ink off?"

"A bit higher," Victor said dumbly, indicating his own cheekbone.

"Thanks. Why are you early?" She paused and remembered her manners. "Welcome back. I'm glad you made it through, but why call me in the middle of the night?"

Victor took a deep breath. "Kathy, you need to come back to Castle Davion right now."

"Why?" she asked, but Victor had kept speaking and continued over her question:

"Dad's dead."

That… Kathy's mind locked up. Was she wrong, was this a dream? A nightmare, really? "Wha- wait, no…" She shook her head in disbelief. "How?!"

"He had a heart attack at his desk!" Victor half-shouted. "This is why you shouldn't sleep on it! Don't they give you a bed at NAIS?!"

"Don't yell at me!" she shot back. "You're not an instructor here." A dreadful prospect pushed her shock aside for a moment. "Oh god, you're not going to be an instructor here, are you?" That would be all she would need, having to take classes from her brother during her final year.

Victor looked horrified. "No! …stop changing the subject."

"Dad can't just die at his desk!" Kathy protested, pushing her chair back. "Why wasn't someone looking after him?" A hollow feeling gnawed at her. Dad couldn't really be gone. New Avalon had the best medicine anywhere, near enough! It was just a heart attack! People survived those all the time, didn't they?

"I don't know! You're the one here on New Avalon! Why are you even in your dorm? NAIS doesn't even have classes right now!"

"Castle's frantic with the war going on! I'm working on my dissertation, and it made more sense to be here near the library," she said. "But… are you sure it isn't an assassin? Dad's not old! He can't just have a heart attack!"

Her brother slammed his hands on the sides of the comm unit. "I don't know yet. I just got here. Are you going to get moving? Or do I have to call your security detail to drag you back here?"

"Don't shout at me!" she snapped hotly. Dad's dead and all Victor can do is scream at me like a drill instructor?!

Someone else caught Victor by the shoulders. "Let me."

Victor turned angrily on the interloper but, for a wonder, he calmed down. "Fine, see if you can talk to her."

Another blond replaced her brother on the screen. Kate didn't know him, but he wore the uniform of an AFFC Hauptmann and had the unit patch of the Tenth Lyran Guards, where Victor commanded a battalion. "Your highness," he said crisply.

"Hauptmann."

"The doctors are still checking your father," he continued and then hastily added. "I'm sorry, they say there is no chance of resuscitation. But," the man moved on: "There is still the chance of foul play. For your safety, the royal family are all to move into the tightest security. I'm sure NAIS is very good, but it's not Castle Davion."

The angry energy drained out of her. "Yes."

"Thank you," he said sympathetically. "I'm very sorry."

"Yeah." Tears began to form at the corners of her eyes. "Me too."

"Me three," Victor said softly from off the screen. "Kathy, I'll… I'll see you here, okay?"

"Would you like me to call your security, and get it set up?" the blond asked supportively. "It would give you a chance to get cleaned up."

"Thank you."

The call cut off and Kate sat staring at the blank comm screen for a long moment. Then she swallowed and pushed herself back from the desk, sharp, stinging tears running down her cheeks. She could go to the Castle in the NAIS sweats she was wearing, but she should at least get her boots on.

 

[drakensis]

Act 1 - Anger​

Chapter 1

Castle Davion, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
1 July 3052

Prince Victor Steiner-Davion was slammed against his restraints as his Victor was shaken violently by the firepower slamming into it.

It could have been worse - he had seen the salvo coming in and fired his jump jets so most of the laser fire only slashed briefly across the 'mech before the other mechwarrior lost track and wasted most of the pulses of coherent light against the buildings behind the Victor.

The autocannon tracked well though and the armor outline on one of the prince's multi-function displays outlined sections of the torso in orange, one step short of the red that would have marked an imminent armor breach. Pretty bad though.

Victor knew the 'mech shooting at him, almost as well as he did the one he was riding. He didn't know the man inside it as well as he'd thought though - he'd thought that he had time to catch the enemy offguard from behind and work the rear armor before he had to pull back into cover.

He'd been wrong - the other man had been backing up rather than advancing, which meant that he - the veteran of the Clan front - had been out thought!

That didn't stop him from bringing the gauss rifle in the right arm of his Victor around and slamming a shot into the heavier 'mech. It missed the back - no 'mech could have thick armor anywhere and rear armor was usually an area that had to be compromised - and skipped down the weapon pod of the right arm before slamming into the upper half of the limb.

Armor cracked under the impact but Victor knew that it wasn't enough on its own to disable the limb and the moment he landed, he had his own 'mech running for cover, risking his own rear armor as he scurried behind the shelter of more buildings.

He heard crashing sounds as the larger mech thundered through the office building on the corner, trying to cut the distance by powering through obstacles. A mistake, in the prince's not-so-humble opinion. The sheer motive power of an assault 'mech could be intoxicating, but that didn't mean that they wouldn't be slowed even beyond their normal low top speed by going through buildings.

In fact, it opened an opportunity.

Victor turned at the corner he had reached and fired everything before he ducked behind it. Every shot hit, which was what he would have expected when firing at an immobile target. Lasers, missiles and another gauss slug crashed into the lower floors of the second building on the street, a tower of glass that was certainly not rated to deal with that level of abuse.

Thirty floors of steel and glass crashed over and into the building that Victor's opponent was battering his way through. Both structures clashed and a hundred tons of war machine was buried under thousands of tons of debris.

"You son of a bitch!" the other mechwarrior shouted.

Victor laughed. "That's our mother you're talking about, Peter!"

His younger brother's frustrated shout was as much exultant and angry as the Dire Wolf forced its way free. "What a machine!" he yelled.

The elder of the pair was still retreating, he didn't want to take another battering salvo. Cut up two streets and circle around. Fighting a Clan omnimech head on was risky even if you had a 'mech of comparable mass. His Victor gave up twenty tons and this wasn't a battlefield where weight of numbers could be brought to bear.

The buildings had too much metal for magscans, there were fires spreading as the result of Peter's earlier missed shots… that meant both needed to rely on seismic sensors for anything outside of line of sight. Those didn't work well when your own 'mech was in motion, so Victor adopted the move - pause - move pace common to mechs in urban combat. It was also not very useful in cases where the target you were looking for wasn't moving - finding Peter would depend on luck as much as good tactics.

His younger brother didn't have battlefield experience, but he was a student at one of the Inner Sphere's best military academies - the same one that Victor had graduated from - and such institutions did everything they could to pass on the lessons that real bloodshed would without the same cost in human lives. It would be a mistake to underestimate the younger prince.

Victor wasn't surprised that his brother's mech wasn't on the same street he had led him onto after using the Victor's higher speed to circle around the block - the Dire Wolf wasn't as slow as to have not even reached the corner. And while playing chase me around the same route was tempting, it was possible Peter would see it coming and wait in ambush.

Or just take a different turn and get lost in the buildings. That was surprisingly easy, even with the sophisticated sensors and navigation systems of a battlemech.

Instead, Victor made it three dimensional, jumping his Victor again up onto the top of a parking garage. The heavy ferrocrete crunched under the eighty tons of battlemech, but it didn't crush. He had to wait a moment for the jump jets to replenish their tanks of air before superheating the contents so that it erupted out of the vents and hurled his 'mech up and into the air again.

His target was a towering mall that had a roof over two hundred meters above the street - higher than he would have been able to reach in a single jump. While it wasn't as heavily reinforced as the parking garage, the roof had heli-pads for the delivery of large loads by air, avoiding the traffic below. They might not be intended for something as heavy as the Victor but there was a significant margin of error built in for safety reasons and hopefully Peter wouldn't spot him up here.

Victor scanned the horizon, hoping the altitude would reveal a clue about his brother's location. If he was being careless of buildings, he might be able to find Peter just by following the trail of destruction.

The risk was being seen himself. Remembering to look up wasn't an easy lesson though, most mechwarriors were focused enough on the height of their own cockpits. If Peter hadn't internalized that yet, Victor might have a chance to get shots down. The Dire Wolf's cockpit was shielded from above by a heavy armored cowl but Victor might be able to get a shot into the damaged arm - severing that would reduce the disparity in firepower between them.

The first sign that he had underestimated his brother again was a thermal bloom from the shadows cast by a multi-level freeway. Victor tried to backpedal but it was too late.

All five of the Dire Wolf's large lasers smashed into the building below him and severed structural members. The floor gave way below the Victor and he didn't have the traction to do more than stabilize his fall with his jump jets before the sides of the hole in the building began to cave in on him.

Victor gritted his teeth as the simulator slammed him up and down, reflecting collisions with floor after floor - both those he was crashing down on and those falling on his head.

When the Victor came to rest, it was buried to the waist and as much as the Dire Wolf needed to cool off from the use of so many lasers at once, it could do so on the move. Victor was still trying to get his 'mech loose of the wreckage when the Clan omnimech loped into view.

"The boot's on the other foot now!" Peter crowed, and opened up with everything in his arsenal.

Victor just closed his eyes as his ride was blasted into smithereens by the simulated firepower of his own 'mech. When he opened them again, the simulator's displays were all blank except for the smug 'You died' report.

With a groan, the prince hit the power down control and the simulator pod leveled before lowering back into the rest position. Conscious of safety rules, Victor waited until it had done so before removing his helmet and unbuckling himself.

Peter had exited his own pod before Victor. Judging by the sweat on his arms and shoulders, the simulator had pumped hot air in to reflect the conditions inside an alpha striking battlemech. The smirk on his face was galling but Victor decided to be the bigger man.

"Well done," he said simply, offering his hand.

His brother's smile faded slightly at the lack of reaction but he accepted the hand. "No excuses."

"A win is a win," Victor forced himself to say. "It was well done. You're learning the right things at the Nagelring."

"Thanks." And then self-control broke down. "Soon I'll be the one showing the clans what for!"

"Maybe not that soon." The ComGuards had won the Inner Sphere a fifteen year truce and while it wouldn't stop the two sides from testing each other's strength, the Federated Commonwealth wasn't ready for the sort of counterattack that would be needed to retake their lost worlds. Besides Kathy wouldn't graduate for another year and Peter was two full years behind the elder of their two sisters.

"Having fun?" a familiar voice asked and both brothers looked up, seeing their father's best friend looking down at them from a gantry above the simpods.

"Just showing Victor some moves, uncle Ardan!" Peter boasted.

The balding Field Marshal leant on the rail. "I hope you learned a few things as well, Peter. In the future it may be you on the receiving end of Clan weapons."

"It's not the machine, it's the mechwarrior inside!" the younger man exclaimed. "Isn't that what you always said."

"For many things, yes." Ardan Sortek looked down at them and shook his head. "But the differences between our 'mechs and those your father and I fought were nothing compared to what we face today. It was a good victory and you earned it," he continued as Peter's face fell, "But I doubt we will be able to acquire another of those omnimechs, much less enough to put them on the field in enough numbers to level the playing field."

"The Dragoons can build them!"

"In small numbers," Victor told him. "And they will want to use them for their own rebuilding before they sell to outsiders. They took heavy losses on Luthien."

"Fighting for the Kuritas." His brother shook his head. "I'll see you later. I think I need a shower."

Victor laughed and mimed holding his nose. "I wasn't going to say anything."

Peter punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Thanks for letting me use a sim of your 'mech."

"You can try it for real on the firing range," he offered. Losing dad was hitting them all hard. Making allowances for Peter being a brat was… probably easier than some of the trials he'd face in the future. And not just the Clans' custom of trials by combat for everything.

His brother's face lit up and he dashed for the shower room.

Victor went up the steps onto the gantry and looked after Peter. "Was I ever that young?" Only five years separated them.

His father's champion laughed kindly and after a moment, Victor's cheeks flushed as he remembered incidents from his own time at the Nagelring, or at NAIS during his exchange year. Out of kindness, Ardan didn't bring any of those up though. "I was," he said instead. "And I think your father was too, even if I didn't see him much when he was at NAMA."

Victor nodded. The New Avalon Military Academy had been House Davion's preferred academy since the SLDF took over Albion centuries ago. Even after the fall of the Star League, it had been a matter of pride for Davions to mostly use their own academy. His father had used the school as the base from which to build the New Avalon Institute of Science, with the academy becoming the new institution's College of Military Sciences.

"It's an impressive machine," Ardan changed the subject, indicating a screen where the final moment of the training match was still on display, Peter's borrowed 'Prometheus' looming over the fallen Victor. "I have to admit, having used a Victor myself, I was rooting for you. I guess it wasn't meant to be though."

"They aren't all powerful," Victor admitted. "Keeping it running is a nightmare - we've gone through almost all the spare parts the Dragoons provided. Fortunately it doesn't use the more advanced armor and structural materials that the Clans use so we can make some substitutions but it's fortunate Hohiro let us take some salvage from Teniente or I'd have to retire Prometheus after one more battle."

"I would imagine the Clans have an easier time," the older man observed, "But logistics matters a great deal. I'm glad you learned that lesson young - your staff work preparing for the counterattack on Twycross was and not just for your age or rank. I've seen Marshals who didn't prepare as well for operations."

He ducked his head at the compliment. "I had a good team."

"So did the Marshals I mean." Ardan sighed. "Of course, there is always more to learn. That's true for all of us, your father included. Your sister also seems to understand it. Hanse was crowing about her work with Coventry and Corean when we last met."

"Oh?" Victor guessed from context that it meant Coventry Metal Works and Corean Enterprises, two of the Federated Commonwealth's most respected battlemech manufacturers - but what did Kathy have to do with them?

"Didn't she tell you? She and her class put together a working plan to standardize parts across Commando and Valkyrie production as part of the upgrade kits being sent out. In the long run it will save us billions. Even now, it's cutting hundreds of tons from supply shipments."

He blinked. "Impressive." The two designs were among the most common light 'mechs in use by the AFFC, often operating in pairs. If they could operate off common stockpiles for parts then it would be a small but significant easing of the massive logistic struggles faced by operating combat units across a realm that numbered - had numbered - a thousand star systems spread across a thousand light year axis. "She mentioned working on her dissertation."

Ardan shook his head. "That will be something new, I think. Something for her final year. Hanse was looking forward to it." He looked away awkwardly for a moment.

"Perhaps we'll find time for her to tell me about it," Victor mused, thinking about his schedule. It was, understandably, packed. There was so much to do and the one thing all the wealth of even two royal families could not buy was more time.

The old man nodded in agreement. "We'll find the time. I look forward to working with you. Hopefully I can at least ease the process of taking up your father's duties."

It was the prince's turn to look away awkwardly. Apparently, Ardan hadn't been filled in yet. "Actually…"

"Actually?" his father's best friend asked, turning a familiar jovial-but-inquisitive look towards Victor.

---

Chapter 2

Castle Davion, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
8 July 3052

The funeral of the First Prince had brought all the great and good of the Federated Suns to New Avalon - a grouping who didn't overlap as often as they should, even before the addition of Lyran dignitaries from the realm of Kate's mother.

The press of people wishing to express their sympathies - and more importantly (to them) be seen with the great Hanse Davion's eldest daughter - was something Kate had had enough of. It would not be politically acceptable for the great man's immediate family not to be on display, at least for those old enough to be in public view. Yvonne and Arthur had been able to make their escapes but the best Kate could do without censure was to avoid the more formal reception rooms for a while and 'be seen' in the halls and galleries. As long as she seemed to be on her way somewhere, she could avoid most conversations.

There were plenty of guests there as well, a mix of those moving between social hubs and a surprising number with ear buds to show they were taking the chance to tour the Castle. Once she gave it some thought, the princess had to admit that it was the chance of a lifetime for those who didn't have the rank or a duty that brought them to New Avalon.

She'd crossed to one of the portrait galleries when she found a familiar face studying one of the portraits in confusion. The blond officer who had been with Victor when he told her of her father's passing had an ear bud in one ear and the control device in his hand but he seemed to have stalled out in advancing as he examined the oil painting at one end of the room.

Kate planned only to give him a nod but she saw one of the Fenlon boys approaching, clearly intent on 'offering a sympathetic shoulder'. Their grandmother had been her father's minister for foreign relations and the idea that this might springboard into a closer tie to the royal house had sunk into the current Duke of Chesterton's mind. He had two boys about Kate's age and both had been primed to push that agenda since she first met them.

Another conversation like that was the last thing she wanted, so she turned to her brother's aide. "Hauptmann Cox, is there something bothering you?" she asked, looking up at the portrait.

"Ah, your highness." Galen Cox turned and bowed Lyran-style, clicking his heels. "Not bothering as such, but I confess the riding crop in your ancestor's hand puzzles me. It's not usually the image of royals."

Kate turned and looked up at the image of the long dead Robert Davion. "Like most of these matters, it's tied to an anecdote about his life. This is…" she checked her memory, "Yes, this was painted based on contemporary images but well after my many greats grandfather had passed away, not from life. I have no idea how he'd have felt about being painted with a riding crop in his hand."

"The tour doesn't seem to mention such a tale," Galen admitted. He glanced over Kate's shoulder and then gave her a questioning look.

"I would be happy to share the story." She took his elbow and drew him around to look back at the portrait. This conveniently left them arm-in-arm and it would be grossly rude for the Fenlons to interrupt when she was signaling a private conversation. Kate almost wished they would, it would give her every excuse to snub them for at least a year.

There was no interruption though, so apparently they had thought better of it.

"The Davions weren't royal at the time," she explained. "Robert was an officer in the Terran Alliance military, who had taken what was considered a low risk post on a remote agricultural world. At the time, New Avalon wasn't the hub it is today."

Galen chuckled at the depreciating remark about Kate's homeworld. "That would have been just before the Outer Reaches Rebellion then?"

"Yes, some years before. He married well and otherwise integrated into the local gentry," she explained. "The story goes that he was out riding with friends one day and came across an Alliance tax collector bullying a local farmer who was unable to meet the demands being made. The man - the tax collector I see - saw Robert riding up and recognised him, asking him to use the crop to whip the intransigent farmer."

"I take it he didn't," Galen observed.

Kate laughed quietly. "It would not be something we boast of if he did. We're not Kuritas. No, he applied the crop to the face of the tax collector, running the man off. It would be cynical to say that he and his friends were depending on local hospitality for their evening meal and likely had a fine meal at the farmer's expense after that, which would hardly have been the case if they sided with a tax collector."

The Lyran officer - his accent was that of Tamar - nodded in understanding. "And one day he was the man sending out tax collectors."

"Robert managed to avoid that," she told him. "When news of the Outer Reaches rebellion arrived, he deserted the garrison to join the militia force that would ultimately drive them offworld. He was still an outsider, but he was there in the background for early independence and died in the civil war that followed." She indicated the next portrait. "His son Adam survived and was in the inner circle of the great families who emerged from that and it was Robert's grandson Lucien who was the first Davion to rule New Avalon."

"And then the Federated Suns," Galen completed. "Even I have heard of his diplomacy."

"The Ian Cameron of his day," Kate agreed.

The hauptmann glanced back. "I believe your admirer has given up, your highness. Thank you for explaining that to me."

Kate hoped her pale cheeks hadn't flushed at being seen through. "I hope it is some exchange for your helping me brush him off." Then she tilted her head. "And I hope you don't call my brother 'your highness' all the time, he would hate that."

"He broke me of that very early," Galen assured her.

She glanced around the room. "If you would be interested in any more tales of family history, perhaps we could trade stories."

"I don't think Victor would thank me for giving his sister ammunition."

"It doesn't have to be about him," Kate told him and then her eyes narrowed. She had learned more about Cox, best to when he was around Victor almost half their waking hours. He had been with her brother through the war, including the training on Outreach and the raid on Teniente. "I am very interested in hearing about Omi Kurita." She dropped the name quietly, not wanting to be overheard.

The hauptmann didn't quite hide a wince. "I would think your family's intelligence agencies could tell you more."

"If I want to know what she was in terms of schooling, family connections and titles then yes," the blonde said quietly. "And I looked all that up when she was appointed to represent her grandfather at the funeral. But I also saw how Victor looks at her and that means I need to know who she is."

Galen gave her a wary look and the corners of his lips curved down. After a long sigh he turned towards another of the oil paintings. "Perhaps you could tell me about this one," he suggested, in acceptance of the bargain. "I saw it on the way down and the title doesn't tell me much."

"I'd be happy to," Kate told him, staying on his arm as they walked across to the painting in question, one that was (probably not coincidentally) at the quieter end of the gallery. "The Last Duel," she read from the bottom of the picture.

"Not entirely accurate, given how prevalent dueling is in the Inner Sphere," the officer observed. "And I don't recognise that 'mech at all."

"If it wasn't family history, I probably wouldn't either." She indicated the other 'mech, recognisably a Wolverine despite battle damage, which sported the colors of the Davion Guards. "That is my ancestor, Alexander the Great, of whom I assume you have heard."

"He did appear in history books once or twice," he deadpanned. "And his opponent?"

"Dimitri Rostov," she said with a degree of satisfaction. "Prince of the Terran March and the last great rival Alexander faced in the Davion Civil War."

Galen made a hmming nose. "I assume the absence of the Terran March from maps has something to do with the outcome of the duel? And his 'mech?"

"He was piloting a Swordsman," Kate answered. "One of the Federated Suns' early battlemech designs, It was built in the Terran March and made up the backbone of their battlemech forces during the civil war. When the March was dissolved, the production was discontinued. Hard to believe, isn't it?"

"I can't imagine any state stopping production of a 'mech entirely," the Lyran admitted. "Unless they were forced to, of course. And I do remember that happening around the tail end of the Succession Wars, back when I was a boy. But by choice?"

"It was a different time," she agreed, giving the picture a melancholy look. "For all that we're recovered since then, we don't just fall short of the Star League - in many ways we haven't caught up yet with the pre-Star League days. The bulk of the surviving Swordsman 'mechs were handed over the SLDF when it was formed, the rest were sent to militias and as far as I know none survived the Succession Wars."

"Like so much else." Galen turned his head again to the picture, which displayed the two 'mechs unleashing their full arsenals against each other in furious demonstration of the hatred between the two mechwarriors. "But why were they fighting? I thought Alexander Davion fought his civil war to win the throne back from his aunts."

Kate smiled thinly and used a phrase beloved of history teachers: "It was more complicated than that." She heard Galen chuckle at the words, perhaps he'd been taught by someone with a similar way of putting it. "Rostov's father Nikolai had been a supporter of Laura Davion - he helped her become Prince of the Draconis March, which gave her the power base to contend for the throne. The Varnays -"

"The Capellan March faction?"

"Yes, Laura's sister Cassandra married Prince David Varney," Kate confirmed. "They elevated the elder Rostov to lead the Terran March in hopes of sparking rivalry between them. It didn't quite work out, but it did divert him to face the Terran Hegemony at the time. Laura won his support back by nominating him as First Marshal of the Federated Suns. When fighting broke out, they almost crushed the Varnays, driving them back to within the Capellan March. However, at about the same time Alexander escaped from Varnayite imprisonment, Nikolai Rostov was killed and many of his forces turned their coats to the Varnays."

"Turbulent times," Galen said in understanding.

"Not unlike those that Robert Marsden, or the first Robert Steiner, experienced," she confirmed. "It took years for Dimitri Rostov to regain control of the Terran March - many of his father's followers preferred to side with Laura or Cassandra, for whatever reason. When Alexander emerged as a genuine contender, pledging himself to the 'true' Davion heir was a useful political tool and it worked out well for them: the combined forces of the Terran and the Crucis March was enough to defeat both Laura Davion and the Varnays."

Kate paused and looked over at Galen. "From Alexander's own records, I don't think the two men ever liked each other, but the breaking point was politics. Dimitri Rostov wanted a return to the old order, where he would rule his own March almost independently of New Avalon. But my ancestor was determined never to allow another civil war like the one he'd grown up in, to break the power of the Marches. Those who feared him as a tyrant saw Rostov as their only safeguard against New Avalon's dominance and the final round of fighting began." She closed her eyes briefly, recalling the first time she'd heard the story. "Alexander's wife was killed in a botched abduction attempt and that destroyed Rostov's popular support. Cynthia and Alexander's marriage was one of the great romances of the day - she was much loved. Alexander reached Robinson, which was the capital of the Terran March back then, with a huge army. He probably wasn't as great a general as Rostov, but he had numbers." She indicated the painting. "And then he risked it all on a single duel."

Galen frowned. "Somehow I think Victor would have done the same."

"Probably. I don't think we've ever discussed it, but…" Kate smiled ruefully. "Truth be told, I'd have more confidence in my brother's chances than Alexander's. He was a great leader, but not really an accomplished general or mechwarrior."

"Good enough though."

"Yes, it makes me feel a bit better about my own lack of skill."

He looked down at her. "You're in your final year at NAIS?"

"Yes, but I doubt I'll have anything like his class score. I'm not the second coming of our father or grandmother."

"But you do intend to serve?"

"As a Steiner," Kate said flatly, "I should. As a Davion, I must. A price for growing up in places like this." She gestured around at the opulent surroundings. "I think they call it duty."

"There are times around Victor that I'm glad to just be a farmboy."

Kate smiled but didn't tell him that Field Marshal Ardan Sortek, her father's closest friend and personal champion had started out as 'just a farmboy' who happened to fall into Hanse Davion's orbit. Let him stay innocent a little longer. No need to spoil the surprise, if Victor planned to keep his aide around - which she assumed he did.

Galen glanced around. "Regarding the lady in question."

Seeing that they had some personal space, Kate gave nodded and listened expectantly.

"I think you'd understand how hard it is for Victor to make friends," the man said. "I had to explain this to her brother though…"

"I have some idea."

"I think it's a chance to have someone who understands the restrictions he's under," Galen continued. "They both know it can't go anywhere - when Omi asked us to help rescue Hohiro it was on condition that she'd break off communication, though that got changed somehow. And they both know that word you used: duty. I'm not saying she isn't beautiful, but if your brother was going to fall for that he'd have probably been hitched before I even met him."

Kate grinned at the truth of that, but then the expression fell off her face. "So she likes him for who he is, despite his rank not because of it."

"Exactly."

"Damn, no wonder he's fallen hard." She'd seen Victor have crushes before but this was different. She could see it and if it wasn't for concerted work by her mother's staff, half the nobility of the Suns would have linked the dots. Keeping this out of the press was going to be a lot of fun for them. "Well, as you say, it can't go anywhere. At least if it helps keep the current truce together it'll be worth something. The last thing we need right now is another war with the Combine."

"I'm sure the Combine feels the same way," Galen said wryly. "Thank you for the history lessons, your… Katherine," he corrected himself when she waggled her finger at him.

"Thank you for your own help," she said with a smile. "If you have any more questions, feel free to ask me. I am for some mysterious reason well educated in the obscure history of House Davion and House Steiner."

"I appreciate it, but the HPG bills might get excessive for my wage. Perhaps next time we meet."

Kate frowned, trying to work out which of them was making incorrect assumptions. "I thought you were remaining Victor's aide?"

"Yes," Galen agreed, clearly making similar calculations. "But the Tenth Lyran Guards still posted back on the Clan border."

"And Victor is rejoining them," Kate said with a sinking feeling as she realized that she was the one missing pieces of the puzzle. The temptation to shriek "He's the First Prince!" was almost irresistible, but she was restrained by the sight in the distance of her uncle Ian's portrait… being the First Prince hadn't kept him from the frontlines… leading directly to the start of her father's reign.

She hadn't managed to hide her surprise and Galen nodded silently.

Kate forced her voice to remain calm. "Well, you'll be here until his coronation." The clear 'what coronation' expression she got told the princess that she was badly, badly out of the loop. "Thank you, Galen. I think I had better make sure that mother is managing…" she said stiffly.

---

Chapter 3

Castle Davion, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
18 July 3052

The palace drop-port was dominated by a pair of massive dropships. Most of the time it served smaller ships bringing in key delegations or transshipping comparably small quantities of supplies to keep Castle Davion fed and otherwise provided for. It was relatively rare for security concerns to allow a dropship to land that was large enough that the discreet but formidable air defenses couldn't definitively destroy it before it arrived over the seat of the Federated Suns government.

The matched pair were royal exceptions - the Camelot had been Hanse Davion's preferred transport and would now take his wife and second son back to Tharkad. The demands of restructuring the Lyran government to cope with the loss of dozens of worlds to the Clans meant that Victor's mother would be needed on her own capital for months, and naturally Peter had classes to attend.

The other Overlord-class dropship would share the command circuit through the Terran corridor, before striking coreward by slower routes to deliver the Revenants to rejoin the other two battalions of the Tenth Lyran Guards. Fortunately so many were making their way back to Lyran space that multiple jumpships would be available for most links. Otherwise one of the two royal dropships would need to wait for the other. It would be far too risky to have them share a jumpship.

Victor turned away from the Barbarossa and back to his remaining siblings. Arthur was old enough to think he could get away with just a shake of hands, but Victor hugged him anyway, the teenager squawking indignantly. "Don't drive the teachers too up the wall," the older brother warned.

"I'll be good…"

"Not too good. Moderation in all things. Just… do you want to imagine how your class would behave if Kathy got called in to act as your guardian."

The redheaded boy paled. "Okay, good point."

"As long as it's just things that would make Dad grin though…" The brother's shared a grin and Victor saw hints in Arthur's face of what looked a lot like their father's face at times like this. It was still a boy's face not a man's, but he thought the youngest son might wind up looking more like Hanse than he or Peter did.

In contrast to their brother, Yvonne gave Victor a hug first, wrapping her arms around his ribs. "Do you have to go?" she asked plaintively.

"I'm afraid so."

She escaped then, going back to their mother, and swapped places with Kathy. The two girls wore almost matching dresses - mixing black with navy blue for Yvonne and black with bottle green for Kathy. The blonde gave him a pensive look. "Try not to get killed," she told him and Victor blinked at the hollow sound of her voice.

"Are you alright?"

"Missing dad," she said a little curtly and then shrugged. "Not that you don't. Just… one of those moments."

"I get that." He caught her by the shoulders. "Ardan told me that Dad was really proud of your work with Corean and Coventry."

Victor was pleased to see at least a weak smile on her face. "He was proud as punch of you too," his sister said.

"I gather you have something new this year?" he probed gently.

She nodded. "It's a bit of a mess. I'm not sure I'll get it done this year, really. I'm going to have to talk to my academic advisor about my other obligations."

"Just focus on your final year," Victor advised. "If it's anything like the Nagelring's, it'll take all your energy."

"That isn't really an option with… with Mom on Tharkad."

He patted her shoulders awkwardly. He wasn't used to Kathy being taller than him, even if it wasn't by much. "If it leaves you falling asleep at your desk, you probably do need to cut back. Don't let them drag you off campus if you need the time for your work. It'll give you some time out of the public eye if you need it - I know I'm looking forward to being behind a military perimeter after all…" He gestured to indicate the complete circus that had surrounded laying Hanse Davion to rest.

Kathy frowned at him. "I'm the senior royal on New Avalon," she said, as if to a simpleton. "I can't delegate to the kids…"

"I'm not a kid," Arthur called indignantly from where he was talking to Peter.

"Boy Scouts of New Avalon?" she shot back and Arthur flinched back from her, then ducking behind the middle brother to avoid their mother's questioning gaze. Victor saw Melissa look at Kathy and then relax at a little shake of the younger woman's head.

That sort of silent communication was something he missed. Somewhere along the way, between the academy and then time in the field he'd fallen out of sync with the rest of his family.

"What is it you want to do?" he asked, conscious that there wasn't much time before he had to board. In theory, the take off was at royal discretion, but disrupting the agreed flight plan was something not to be done without excellent reason.

"My project?" she misunderstood. "Lycomb-Davion still have a license for the Guillotine heavy 'mech. We don't have the same parts that were used on it originally, but with some alterations we're thinking we can work with modern substitutes. Maybe even make it better than the SLDF model or the ones ComStar has."

"Never settling for second best?" he asked wryly. "That sounds great."

Kathy shrugged deprecatingly. "If we have the design ready on paper this semester, we can get our hands dirty and try assembling one before finals. It's if I have the time to do that. Dad would turn in his grave if I tried to skate on class requirements."

"I think we both know you'd rather shave your hair back to boot length again than half-ass that sort of thing," he told her. He had seen pictures of her face after the haircut when she enrolled in NAIS. It had grown back out since, only freshmen needed the buzz cut, but Kathy had worn it most of the way down her back since kindergarten and her expression had been hilarious in the aftermath.

"That and class," she said. "Including the field exercises, and I'll need to spend most of my days off up here."

"No one should expect you to do public appearances until you've graduated," Victor assured her. "And once that's done, what are the odds you're stationed on New Avalon?"

"As long as you're on the frontlines? Somewhere around one hundred percent," Kathy said dismissively. "I'm the spare, remember. One of us has to stay out of harm's way. I don't mean the public stuff though. Mom may be the First Prince but someone has to head up the family here and who else is there?"

"I thought Hammond had that in hand?" Jerric Hammond Davion, the Duke of Argyle, served as Minister of the Crucis March in lieu of their mother, just as he had for Hanse Davion. In theory, it was the First Prince's role to do so but in practise there was always the need for someone to delegate the role off to. That was the reality of trying to manage a Successor State.

But she made a face - one of the 'Victor just doesn't get it' that he remembered her showing him so often when she was younger. "Officially, yes. Unofficially, someone has to turn up to remind people that he is speaking on our behalf." She shook her head again. "Maybe I should just drop out of the mechwarrior course and graduate as a technician. It would save me some of the field exercises."

"Dad really would spin in his grave," Victor told her. "Besides, it wouldn't help. Tech students need to go out on the exercises to keep the gear going."

"Another perfectly good solution shot down by reality." Kathy leaned over and gave him a hug. "I will miss you Victor," she said seriously. "Don't get your head shot off or I'll come over there and kill you."

"I think there's something wrong with your logic," he told her, returning the embrace. "If I lose my head, I'll already be dead."

"Why? It's not like you use it for anything?" she said sniffily. "Now go on, you're out of time."

She was right and Victor joined Galen at the gangway while the family split up. He watched from there as Kathy led Arthur and Yvonne into the terminal and then it was time to get into a seat as the Barbarossa prepared to set out for the far side of the Inner Sphere.

Victor felt the usual excitement at the thought. The stifling formalities of court could be set aside for the refreshing practicalities of leading his battalion. Maybe of the entire 'mech regiment, word was that the slot would be opening up shortly. His aunt Nondi Steiner had been vocally unhappy with some of the decisions made on Alyina, but there had been no time to rearrange officers at the time. Now that it looked like the Truce of Tukayyid was holding…

 

[drakensis]

Chapter 4

Castle Davion, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
7 March 3053

The halls of Castle Davion were full again, if for a more merry reason than her father's funeral. Officially this was one of the many charity events hosted by House Davion, in this case co-hosted by Kate and by her cousin from Argyle in his role as Minister of the Crucis March. As a result, the majority of guests were from that region of the Federated Commonwealth - mostly from the core worlds around New Avalon but a sprinkling from the very much more numerous Skid Row worlds around the edges of the Periphery which were to be the recipients of the largesse gathered,

There were other reasons for the gathering however: informal discussions between the political and economical elites to lay groundwork for later formal meetings. While the Suns had never been as byzantine in its internal affairs as their Lyran brethren, such lobbying predated space flight - indeed, it certainly went back thousands of years before that accomplishment.

Kate had to restrain herself from sighing in relief as one such meeting parted ways. The looks on those who remained made it clear that she hadn't entirely managed to hide the reaction.

"You did well," J. Hammond Davion assured her, stretching his own arms. "I think that things are on course for what you want to achieve."

"I hope so," Kate told him. "The easy part is over, at any rate."

"You call redesigning an entire battlemech and building a prototype in less than a year the easy part?" he asked. Hammond wore the uniform of an AFFC marshal, although at the time he'd held the rank it had been the AFFS that he served in. His son and heir was a little older than Katherine, although at least he'd never tried to suggest that as the grounds of a dynastic union.

She shrugged. "Fortunately I can delegate most of the hard parts."

It was the third person in the room who answered the duke's question directly. "The tooling necessary to build the Guillotine will be the principal technical challenge," Dr Anna Banzai informed him. "That is beyond the curriculum of NAIS, and unless the princess wants to enroll for a more technical programme over the next few years, she will not be directly involved there. And then there is what my father assures me will be the very worst parts: contracting component manufacturers, finding a suitable spot for the factory to be built. Negotiating with local authorities, recruiting and training the workforce, setting up the administration." She shivered slightly. "My father has many horror stories from the battlefield, but nothing was worse than hearing about his negotiations with Defiance Industries."

Hammond chuckled as if it was a joke but Kate knew that her academic advisor wasn't exaggerating in the slightest. The daughter of the infamous Dr Buckaroo Banzai, who had played a key role in establishing NAIS, Anna would much rather spend time in the labs and workshops than her office. Such negotiations were not her cup of tea.

"I will need to keep a finger on the pulse of discussions," Kate continued, looking after the departing Lycomb-Davion Introtech executives. "But that probably won't be as intensive as my involvement over the last year."

"I would hope not," Anna said a little reprovingly. "Don't think I was unaware of how many late nights you put in. If you'd pushed that much further I would have insisted on you dropping some of your courses, even if it pushed your graduation back."

The cadet couldn't really argue the point. She'd been aware of the pressure and was glad it hadn't gone that far. Being held back, even as far as the secondary graduation date in the autumn for final year students who had just missed the cut-off complete the requirements, would have been impossible to keep out of the media. It could have been spun, but it would have cost some political favors and her father had always warned them that pressuring the media was best done lightly, if at all. "I'm glad it didn't come to that."

"So am I."

"If you don't mind my asking," Hammond asked, pushing himself to his feet. "How are you doing? It's a long time since my own academy days."

"I would say… ask my academic advisor," Kate said, passing the buck.

Anna shook her head slightly. "It rests on your final exams, but barring a complete debacle there you will graduate on schedule. If you crush the La Mancha, you might scrape through to the top ten percent but I would advise against pushing your luck. No one is giving you command of a battalion the way they did your brother."

"I'd turn it down if you tried," she assured the doctor. "Right now I just plan on pacing myself for the finals."

"Good, that's exactly the advice I'd have given," Hammond told them. "I saw some promising cadets burn themselves out at the last minute. Pushing your limits is all very well but it's best to have an idea where they are first."

"After the rush on this, I think the exams will come as a relief."

Kate's elders exchanged laughs. "That is definitely not how they should feel," Anna warned her. "But you Davions always drive yourselves too hard."

"At least we come by it honestly." The duke opened the door for them and waved them through in a gracious fashion. "I must circulate, so I shall see you later."

"I'll freshen up first," Kate excused herself and headed towards the washroom. Anna followed her, the older woman saying nothing and only nodding to a few acquaintances as they passed.

The lady's washroom was empty as they entered - the Castle had been modified over the years to ensure that there was more than enough capacity for even the largest gathering. It would have detracted from the dignity of the Federated Suns to have long queues waiting for a limited number of toilets. Kate wasn't sure who had ensured a disproportionate number of facilities to favor ladies, but evidence suggested the modifications might date back to before the Davion Civil War. Which might, oddly, mean credit went to the Council of Regents who had included the treacherous Laura and Cassandra Davion.

"I will be returning to NAIS," Anna told Kate once they had done their business and were using the sink. "I have work to do and going now may mean I get enough sleep myself."

"I appreciate your lack of hypocrisy, Professor. Thank you for joining me today."

"It would have been a shame not to see your project handed off to the industrial level," she replied evenly. "But I can't put myself through the formal negotiations, and I do have to complete the grading before finals take place. Rest assured, you and your team will be getting excellent scores for your work."

Kate bowed her head. "I appreciate your help."

"Good students are a teacher's pleasure."

The door opened and cut that conversation short, the two older ladies entering well known to Kate. Her aunt Marie had been the first of Andrew Davion's children and she was now the last - her half-brothers Ian and Hanse lying buried in the tombs beneath the Castle. It was the first time she'd returned since the funeral, but that was still more frequent than normal.

"Katherine," she greeted warmly and stepped close to kiss her niece on both cheeks. "You aren't getting enough sleep, dear."

"I do mean to catch up."

"Your father always said the same, but somehow it never quite seemed to happen."

"Your highness. Professor." Marie's daughter-in-law, Kym Hasek-Davion, greeted them both formally.

"I'm glad to see you both," Kate told them. "It's a long way from New Syrtis."

"I should probably have stayed here after the funeral," Marie admitted. "I had not considered that you would be left alone, but… I am old enough to form strong habits, even if they are not wise."

Kate shook her head and embraced the aging woman. "You are here now."

"Yes, and I will stay until your graduation, at the least. Longer if you would like."

"That means a great deal," the young blond said.

"I will have to to back to New Syrtis," Kym added her own position, "But not until after you graduate. With Morgan away…" She gestured helplessly. Her husband was Duke of New Syrtis, traditionally the leader of the Capellan March, but his duties as Marshal of Armies kept him far too busy to fill that role on a regular basis."

"Long enough to give Melissa a piece of mind," Marie continued.

Dr Banzai, halfway out of the door as the royals conferred, stopped and gave Kate a curious look.

Kate closed her eyes briefly and then shook her head, letting her advisor know that the plans had not changed. "Mother will not be able to make it, Aunt Marie."

"What?" the redhead said indignantly.

"She can only afford to visit once this year, the Estates General are still in turmoil," Kate offered the excuse. "As much as she'd like to come for my graduation, she can do more good being here when the royal court convenes in fall."

"By that point you could be assigned away," Marie said indignantly.

"I don't think that that's likely," Kym corrected her. "Do you know where you are going to be assigned, Kate?"

Kate leant against the sinks. "It's no secret," she replied. "Unless I completely fail my finals, I expect to be sent to the New Avalon March Militia."

That got a nod from the Duchess of New Syrtis. "A good compromise. The cadet cadres are all covering for regiments sent to face the Clans, so if you joined one of them it could leave you stationed out in some backwater. Normally that would be fine, it's what was planned for Victor, but not at the moment."

"I always knew that my assignment would be political," Kate told them. "What really matters is that I will have family there when I graduate." She hugged Marie again and then embraced Kym as well. "It means a lot that you've come all this way for me."

---

Chapter 5

Red Clay Canyon, Blue Hole
Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth
19 June 3053

The canyon wasn't the tight confines that Victor remembered from the mountains of Twycross, but it was still narrow enough that it would have constrained the Clans' mobility and mitigated the reach of their weapons. Victor nodded in approval as the jeep drove up the highway.

Work crews repairing the highway, which was an important transit route, were mixed with those salvaging 'mechs wrecked in the fighting here. The canyon floor was littered with them, like fallen giants slain in some battle of norse mythology, the scene set further by the sprinkling of snow for it was winter in this hemisphere of Blue Hole.

"This is as far as the Falcons came," Colonel Andrea Stirling said from the front of the jeep they were riding in. "We needed to stop them before they got out onto the coast. The petro-chemical sites along there would have burned very cinematically and it would have played merry hell with the economy, never mind fuel for the garrison here."

"I hate to think how much shipping would have been tied down bringing in gasoline and diesel for the mechanized regiments here," agreed Galen.

Victor couldn't help but agree, although he was also aware (since it had been quite bluntly stated in the briefing) that the people of Blue Hole would have probably been more impacted by the impaired ability to keep their power grids, trains and heavy industry going - at least at the existing prices given how much the price of the remaining sources of oil-based products would have risen.

No one in the Intelligence Secretariat was prepared to commit that the Clans didn't know how high the stakes would have been. It was possible the Jade Falcons had just been here for what they claimed: to acquire the current oil stockpiles. They did have several tanker dropships suited to carry the refined oils, so Victor leant towards that interpretation. But they might also have been aware that a fight over the infrastructure around the oil stores could have crippled the defenses of Blue Hole and significantly undermined confidence in the AFFC's ability to defend their people/

"Fortunately, Stirling's Fusiliers made sure that it didn't happen," he said out loud. "How bad were casualties?"

The colonel reached over and tapped the driver on the shoulder, who pulled off the road onto one of the low rises that marked the canyon floor. "Meat or metal?" Stirling asked bluntly.

"Both." Victor stood up and scanned the floor. More than thirty 'mechs were lying in need of recovery. Most had the tartan patterns favored by Northwind Highlanders, but others had the olive green of the Jade Falcons. "I got some reports through but it was all 'so far as we know'." The Tenth Lyran Guards hadn't even been scheduled to go to Blue Hole but they had been on a jumpship within range so they had diverted to arrive via pirate point within hours of the raid. Even so, they had missed the entire battle and - understandably - detailed After Action Reports had not been the first priority.

Stirling stepped out of the jeep and looked up at him. "I had a battalion covering the canyon, and they rammed ten 'mechs and two dozen toads down it," she said grimly. "One company of your hover cav made it here in time to die, the poor buggers. I have eleven 'mechs still fit to fight, although with the chance to salvage, we can make that good."

"I believe your contract covers full salvage rights," Victor agreed immediately. "Obviously we'd like to look at - and perhaps purchase - samples of anything we haven't seen before. But the material is yours to use and sell, take that as a given."

"Fair and good," the mercenary agreed. "As for my lads and lasses, I have twenty souls in hospital, most will make a good recovery in time. Your tankers were less fortunate, not one in ten made it out."

"Clan weapons are murderous against lightly armored targets," he agreed. Hovercraft relied heavily on speed to avoid taking shattering damage, they were usually too light to carry useful armor as well as a significant weapon payload. The Condors he could see were larger than most of their ilk but against Clan weapons… well, it would have taken top notch drivers to survive. These had been second and third line troops, doing their best.

Five deaths among the mercenaries was right around the normal level of fatality. The important thing, was that the Clans had been engaged at only three to one odds and lost. "Ten 'mechs can't have been their whole force."

"They had at least two other forces," confirmed Stirling. "Most of a Cluster. We believe they were trying to run some of the other routes through to the plains but one of those passes has been impassable for over a century - I guess they had old maps. The other, we mined it and blew." Her face tightened. "The locals are not happy, it'll be four months to clear and then longer to get the monorail back in service."

"But better that than what would have happened if they broke through."

The mercenary snorted. "Glad that you see that, Prince Victor. If you'd do us the favor of reminding the locals? They don't have to love us, but it'd be appreciated if they'd let us do what we're hired for."

Victor glanced over at Galen. "Give me a list and I'll see what I can do. I'm not saying I can work miracles, but sometimes my title counts for something. If you want me to visit your wounded, we can make a thing of it: wounded heroes in the headlines, particularly victorious heroes, can sway public opinion."

"I'll ask them if they mind," Stirling said a bit grudgingly, "Don't be surprised if some of the lasses ask for a kiss from a prince."

"Given you all wear kilts, how can I tell if they're lads or lasses?"

She started to laugh and turned it into a snort. "If you need the help, I fear for your ability to continue your dynasty."

Galen stepped out of the jeep and took out a camera. "Do you want some holos for your report?"

"It wouldn't hurt," Victor agreed. "And I can send some to Kathy. She'd appreciate some good imagery of Clan 'mechs."

"Your sister?" asked Stirling. "I heard she graduated from your father's fancy academy last month."

"Top of her classes in mechanical engineering," Victor agreed proudly, deciding not to mention that Kathy's grades in battlemech combat had been significantly lower. She was certainly competent, but he was very happy she wasn't bucking for a combat assignment the way Peter no doubt would be when he came out of the Nagelring in a couple more years - one year if he kept crunching classes as if he was afraid the Clans wouldn't be there to fight.

Galen started snapping images of the battlefield as Victor questioned Stirling, trying to build up a picture of how the Jade Falcons had fought. He had to be careful about how he phrased some of his queries, not wishing to sound as if he was diminishing the accomplishments. The Jade Falcon forces hadn't quite come in dumb, but at the same time it sounded like some of them had been more aggressive than was wise. Stirling pointed out elements of one Star, three of them Kit Foxes that had clearly over-extended, pushing down the canyon when they would have been better holding back and using their better weapons to bring down Highlander 'mechs from range. Kit Foxes were only thirty tons and while the Clans could squeeze more protection per ton out of their armor materials, they weren't that much better. It was one of the areas they'd advanced least in.

Not all of the Falcons had been so careless though. It seemed to Victor as if around half the force had been inexperienced and mixed in with veterans to get their feet wet. Clan training seemed to turn out technically proficient warriors but the ability to read a battlefield and react intelligently was harder to learn than simply shooting straight or even managing one's heat.

"I'm impressed," he said at last, looking at the Orion that had led the Highlander's final counter-charge. The 'mech had gone down to an elemental swarm, but that let the three Vindicators behind it get close enough to burn down a Clan Nova that had been supporting the battle armored infantry and open up a flank for Highlander light 'mechs to push past and threaten the Falcon's line of retreat. "Very impressed. This was your first deployment against the Clans?"

"Aye," the mercenary agreed. "I imagine we'll see them again."

"Very probably. They may even seek you out. Beating them once will mean earning a victory against you carries more prestige in their eyes."

"Let them come," the Highlander said pugnaciously. "We've two battalions ready to fight, and the other will be back at two-thirds readiness in a month."

"Good to hear," Victor assured her. "If you decide not to keep the omnimechs, we're willing to negotiate payment in cash or equipment."

"I'll see what our techs say," Stirling said cautiously. "If we can use it, it'd be a fine thing, but if not…" she kicked at a clod of frozen soil. "Well, we have our own engineers back on Northwind who might want to see what they can make of it."

The prince shrugged. "Your choice." We could do with more troops like this, he thought. I should pass the word to Morgan, if we can hire more Highlanders it will keep the Falcons guessing.

---

Chapter 6

Flensburg, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
22 June 3053

The sun beat down on Kathe unmercifully. It was local winter, for Flensburg was south of the equator, but it wasn't very far south and she was glad that full dress uniforms weren't expected today, even though it was a formal occasion.

She saluted along with the other officers as Duke James Sandoval walked past them on review. Each mechwarrior in her battalion stood in front of their mech, the technicians stood behind and other support staff formed a block even further behind. The shaft of the spear, while the mechwarriors formed the point. Twenty-four mechs was a lot of metal, even though most of them were fairly light. Kate's Guillotine was one of only three heavies, the others being a pair of JagerMechs that had yet to be upgraded with modern technology. She'd bought the Guillotine prototype from NAIS rather than claim one from the small reserve maintained for House Steiner-Davion - she would rather rely upon a 'mech that she understood inside and out.

The duke - a famous general in his own right - examined each of the mechs and mechwarriors in turn. Kate tried not to show any sign of recognising Sandoval as anything other than the senior officer visiting them. He knew better, of course, but the act was important for unit morale.

"A fine force," Sandoval concluded firmly when he had walked through their entire formation. "In good condition, and ready to fight. But I believe you may be somewhat under strength."

"Yes sir." Leutnant General Payne's response was perfectly pitched to carry. "Several of our comrades have volunteered for transfer into commands on the frontlines."

"That will not do." The Field Marshal of the Draconis March didn't crack the slightest smile at the staged conversation. "The defense of the capital cannot be compromised. Permit me to rectify this matter."

At the signal, twelve new 'mechs strode into view from the hangars. The crowd of mostly civilians watching from stands overlooking the parade ground oohed and aaahed at the sight. The informed amongst them may have realized that these were an unfamiliar design, fresh from the factory..

Twelve Watchman medium 'mechs joined the ranks of the New Avalon Crucis March Militia. Kate had seen the specifications back when her father agreed to jointly fund the production of them. They were good enough - not the best, but they were affordable and capable. Only forty tons, but they were built on the same chassis and engine as the larger Enforcer, which gave them a better power to weight ratio - and almost as importantly, the spare parts would be easy to come by. Armament was mostly lasers, which spoke well of their battlefield endurance.

The mechwarriors dismounted, each of them already a member of the CMM, but the Duke of Robinson marched down their ranks along with Payne (who was a duke himself, if of a far less important world) and welcomed them all anyway. Backs straightened as he went past, such was the presence of the leader of the Draconis March.

Once the formalities were done, the battalion's mechwarriors marched into one of the hangars where tables had been laid out for a reception of local dignitaries. The 'mechs themselves would be taken back to the hangars by techs, while the important business of reinforcing public relations went on inside.

Kate had pinned her hair up under her cap and hoped to avoid too much attention. Her posting to the CMM wasn't a secret, but which of their bases she was at was more confidential. Much of the unit served in and around Avalon City in ceremonial or security roles, but Flensburg was where they did most of their training. As a novice lance commander, she was entirely happy to be here.

As an older sister, thousands of kilometers further from her siblings… now there she had concerns.

Thoughts of her family were set aside though as Duke Sandoval beelined towards her before the other guests arrived. "Leutnant Steiner-Davion," he greeted her.

"Sir."

Sandoval smirked slightly. "Given your background in engineering, I'd be interested in your opinion on the Watchman."

Kate folded her arms behind her back. "I haven't had a chance to take one out on a checkride yet, although I understand a list is being drawn up. The specifications I've seen make it look like an excellent medium 'mech and that's certainly something we need."

"Now that does worry me. If it is too good, your brother will be calling for it to be pitted against the Clans, the way he wants more of our regiments on the frontline."

What was that about? "I may be out of the loop there, sir."

"I do not require a 'sir' every other word," Sandoval told her. "You're not a cadet any more. Your brother has requested additional regiments of the Northwind Highlanders to face the Clans. They're some of the best forces we have left in the Draconis March and Northwind lies too close to the Terran Corridor for me to be comfortable about losing them."

The achilles heel of the Federated Commonwealth was the relatively narrow section of space linking its two halves, near the neutral motherworld. The Fourth Succession War had made it more than a bottleneck, but losing even a few worlds there would raise the prospect of critical trade and communications being threatened.

"I see your concerns," Kate admitted, "But I simply do not know what is being requested and what is being offered to replace the Highlanders in such a critical spot."

"I suppose that's fair," the duke said. "Could I impose on you to send me your impressions of the Watchman once you have tried it."

"I'd like to get hands on," she agreed. "In the cockpit and with the techs as well. How it fights is half the battle, but… well, you know what a Clint is like to maintain."

"Never used one myself, I don't hate my techs that much." Sandoval laughed at his own joke. The Clint had been built for the Star League by a firm that had the 'clever' idea of using non-standard parts to guarantee them constant orders for replacement components. Since the factory had been bombed flat in the Succession Wars, generations of technicians had cursed Andoran Industries' executives for that decision and the remaining stocks of Clint parts went for ridiculous prices.

Kate chuckled as well. "The refit packs being sent out help a little," she noted, "I don't think they go far enough though."

"We need every 'mech we can get," he grunted, eyes narrowing. "But you're a clever young lady. What are you thinking?"

"I left a little challenge for my underclassmen at NAIS," she told him frankly. "Build a Clint or something equivalent to its new specs, using commonly available components."

"Do I hear a rival to Robinson's new 'mechs?" the duke rumbled, gesturing in the direction of the 'mechs outside.

"Something to compliment them." She met his gaze unflinchingly. "A lot of resources are being thrown into developing advanced designs to close the gap with the Clans, but we also lost hundreds of battlemechs during the invasion and with the price tags I've been hearing, we cannot afford to replace them with top of the line options. 'Mechs being 'mechs, the idea that another design entering production would cut sales of the Watchman is laughable."

"There's still a limit to the funds available," he grumbled. "I hear you are pushing for more Guillotines like the one I saw out there?"

"I'm keeping an eye on negotiations," Kate admitted. "Even as one of those re-designing it, it's not the most powerful 'mech ever built, but any sane military builds its strength around workhorse types like the Guillotine or the Watchman. It's far too early to say if the Clint could be redesigned to fill the same role."

Leutnant General Payne approached the pair of them. "Field Marshal, Leutnant, our guests are beginning to arrive."

"Thank you, Russel." Sandoval rubbed his chin. "I will give the idea thought, young lady. Let me know your thoughts on my matter and we shall see what comes together. I do have something in the works for the designers of the Watchman, but they may have room for a joint project with NAIS if your underclassmen live up to your own work."

Kate nodded. "Thank you. I'll see if I can find out what Victor had in mind about the Highlanders."

"That would be appreciated."

Sandoval walked away towards the entrance where civilians were beginning to enter the reception area. Payne watched him go and then turned to Kate. "Your highness?"

"It seems I cannot avoid business of the realm," she said, wishing she could grab Victor by the collar and demand some answers. He was half the realm away, but that was no excuse for irritating one of his most powerful future vassals. The Draconis March included more than a hundred star systems and stretched from Terra to the periphery - almost six hundred light years of what had once been the most hotly contested region of space in the Inner Sphere. Accustomed to having scores of the best regiments available at his command, it was no surprise that James Sandoval was concerned to find his command area reduced to militia and a few nodal reaction forces.

Certainly it was unlikely that Theodore Kurita would turn his attention away from the Clans, but it was still alarming to the inhabitants of those worlds to have their defenders stripped away.

Payne clapped her shoulder, drawing her back to the moment. "I hope the matter works out, leutnant. But for now we have guests and the New Avalon CMM prides itself on good relations with the public. I know you're familiar with some of that from your own life, but there are some differences in uniform so I want you to stay at my side for this reception and keep a close eye on how we handle these things."