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A Battletech fan fiction by Marcus "Dyrewolfe" Moazzam, Jeff "Buckshot" Baker & J.M. "Panama" Pendergrass

1. Answering the Call

Royal Brighton & Hove Golf Course,
Buckminster,
Gainsborough,
Britannic Coalition,
7th August, 3068

The persistent ringing of his personal com unit distracted Regent William Sandringham from his tee-off. With a sigh of annoyance, he plucked the unit from his belt with his free hand; on seeing the caller’s ID code, his eyes widened in surprise and apprehension. Apologising to his playing partners, he excused himself and strode briskly from the fairway, his seven-iron tucked under one arm. When he was sure he was far away enough for privacy, he punched the button to answer the call. On the small display screen appeared the worried face of Prince Maxwell D’Avion, ruler of the neighbouring Royalist Alliance. Apparently, his friend had decided to pay him an unscheduled visit and William was keen to find out why.

“Will, thank god! I was beginning to think you weren’t going to answer”.

“Max, what the hell are you doing here…and why didn’t I know about it in advance?”

“Sorry Will, but my head of security insisted that my visit should be strictly covert…a black ops type of thing. If the wrong people back home knew about it, they could use it to stir up even more trouble. I contacted your offices as soon as we arrived in system, explained our situation and the reason for our being here and they agreed to keep it quiet. As far as anyone knows, I’m just a junior diplomat, visiting some of your advisors and catching up on palace gossip”.

“Well, someone from my office is going to get a rocket up their backsides for not informing me of your arrival”, said William, still slightly peeved.

Maxwell D’Avion’s face was a picture of contrition, “My fault again, I’m afraid Will. Or rather the fault of my chief of security…I think he’s even more paranoid than I am, lately”.

Sandringham’s expression was one of amusement, “Well, that’s what you pay him for, isn’t it?”

The other man nodded ruefully, “He didn’t want anyone outside your personal staff alerted to my presence, by formal announcements or any unusual actions on your part…sudden changes in your schedule – that sort of thing. We decided we would be less likely to attract unwanted attention with a personal call, while you were out of the palace”.

William glanced quickly round the course. Apart from his group, there were few other players around and no-one seemed to be paying him any attention.

“Well, congratulations, your plan worked perfectly”.

“I’d have been very disappointed had it been otherwise, given the amount of trouble we went to. I hope my arrival hasn’t come at a bad time, but I’m really not sure who else I can trust right now…”

William pulled a face and waved his club at the camera built into his com unit. “Well, since you undoubtedly checked my schedule with my PA before you called, you’ll know where I am and what I’m doing. You just distracted me from a very important tee-off at the 17th that could decide the outcome of the game, but other than that, nothing major”.

Max rolled his eyes. “Hope you haven’t got too much staked on the game, because what I’m about to say might ruin your putting. You remember what we spoke about, during your last visit?”

William’s demeanour instantly became more sober. “Of course…you still haven’t found the source of those leaks?”

Max sighed heavily and shook his head. “RIS have their best officers on the case, but so far…nothing. Whoever it is, they’re doing a damn good job of covering their tracks”.

“What can I do to help?”

Max leaned forward over his desk until his face almost filled the screen. “Are you alone right now? Can anyone hear us?”

William glanced across at the others, who’d clustered around the cart carrying the drinks and snacks. They paid him no attention whatsoever. “Its okay Max, we can talk”.

Maxwell closed his eyes, as if hoping his problems would disappear along with his vision. “You remember I told you about the trouble the Ministry of Defence were having with some of our less reliable units? Well, it seems to be getting worse. Not only are some of them refusing orders, but some are actually going rogue and carrying out raids…on the people they’re supposed to be protecting! Their grievances I can sympathise with, but their actions are totally indefensible. I would like nothing more than to be able to give them what they’re due…and more, but we’re facing difficult times, as you’re probably aware...”

“Us too…and pretty much the rest of the Periphery, if the reports I’m seeing are at all accurate”, Will nodded in sympathy.

“As if that weren’t bad enough, my chief of staff is seriously considering deploying the few Regiments who remain unquestionably loyal, to deal with the turncoats. I have to say, I’m finding it increasingly difficult to argue with him”.

Sandringham shook his head, “I hope I never have to make such a decision, but I’m sure whatever you do will be for the right reasons”.

“Business with the Lyrans, our principal trading partner has all but dried up. Inevitably, we’ve had to cut government spending…including the Ministry of Defence budget. Because of the time they’ve taken to re-allocate their funds, many units have been receiving their pay late…in some cases not at all. Add to that rising rates of equipment failure and a lack of replacements, because they can’t afford the maintenance and most people would call that sufficient reason for dissent in the ranks. Now, to cap it all, they’ve got our intel services going through their bases with a fine-tooth comb, looking for “traitors to the Alliance”. That was probably the straw that broke the camel’s back. Before that, the trouble was limited to protests, dissent, petty theft and vandalism. Now sections of the civilian populace are starting to take sides on these issues. I don’t want to sound melodramatic, but I think we’re on the verge of a civil war”.

D’Avion leaned back in his chair and stared at his desk. “In a nutshell, the Alliance armed forces are in turmoil right now. We’d be hard pressed to defend ourselves against anyone who fancied a piece of us, never mind exploring to look for new resources”.

Sandringham smiled at his friend’s language to describe the planned raid on Gilfillian’s Gold, a mineral-rich world on the edge of the Rim Collection, a small state, comprising half a dozen worlds, which lay less than a hundred light years, spinward of the Alliance. With a small population, little advanced technology and only a token military force, the Regent could see why it presented such a tempting target. Although highly unethical, it would be a quick and easy way to boost the Alliance’s flagging economy…one of the few remaining options, once normal trade revenue streams had dried up. At least on a world as sparsely populated as Gilfillian’s Gold, the consequences of such action were unlikely to be far-reaching.

“Well, I suppose you’ll just have to put your search for new wealth on hold for a little while”.

“If only it were that simple Will. Recon flights by our navy have picked up increased activity on The Rack and Pain”. He stared into the camera again. “RIS uncovered evidence that details of our operational plans have been leaked. Now we’re learning through naval com intercepts that the pirates that hide out on those rocks are planning strikes on a number of our border worlds. I’m guessing they don’t like the idea of us muscling in on their territory”.

“What in Blake’s name…? Sounds like you could have a number of moles, spread throughout your command structure…perhaps even a cell of enemy agents”.

“That’s one of the theories we’re working on at the moment…it’s the one that bears closest scrutiny so far. If correct, it’s going to make our task harder by several orders of magnitude”.

“Not necessarily…if you can nab one, you may be able to “persuade” them to reveal the others. Have your people got any likely suspects…psych profiles…motives…?”

Max spread his arms helplessly. “We’ve got all our intel and police agencies going over unit rosters, personnel files and piecing together every shred of evidence we’ve got…which isn’t much. Every alley we’ve run up so far has come to a dead end.”

“Sorry to hear that…what can we do to help?”

“Well, I probably shouldn’t ask, but I can’t see any other options. I was wondering, what shape is the BCAF in at the moment?”

That got a laugh. “Well, pretty good I suppose, for a military that’s yet to fight more than the odd border skirmish”.

The Prince looked so crestfallen that Sandringham felt obliged to cheer him up. “On the other hand, I’ve been receiving excellent reports from Precentor-Commander Jackson about the Britannia Guards. Our mercenary friends have been working with them, over the last year or so, to develop their strategy, tactics and general battlefield awareness. They’re a strange lot, these Coyote Cavaliers, but their liaison, Captain Jerricho, has been quoted as saying the Guards’ performance is ‘adequate’”. William chuckled. “Apparently, coming from her, that’s high praise”.

“Does your chief of staff feel they would be up to a long distance deployment?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have Jackson speak to the Guard’s commander. If he’s satisfied with their progress, I don’t see why he wouldn’t authorise their deployment. How does a full combined arms Division, with warship support sound?”

“Right now – I’ll take whatever I can get”, D’Avion replied, managing to look both relieved and embarrassed at the same time. “Normally, pirate attacks wouldn’t be anything to worry about, but right now, I can’t be sure if the units we sent to deal with them would end up defecting, going rogue or simply disappearing”.

“Okay, I’ll start making some enquiries at this end. It would speed things up a lot if our troops could cut through Alliance space. If you could…”

“Already on it, Will. Unless you hear otherwise, from me personally, in the next few days, my chief of staff will contacts yours with a list of systems, jump points, recharge times etc. in the next week or so”.

The ruler of the Royalist Alliance stared solemnly up at the Regent from the com unit’s view screen. Thanks William. If there’s ever anything…”

“Don’t worry”, William smiled as he cut him off. “I’m sure an opportunity to return the favour will present itself in due course”. He waved his golf club again. “Right…got a game to finish or else my Chancellor and Home Secretary stand to win five hundred C-bills. Should be done in half an hour or so…where are you?”

“Your staff put me up in one of the guest suites at the palace…very nice it is too”.

“Okay, I’ll meet up with you as soon as I’m through fleecing my Chancellor and Home Secretary”.

Prince Maxwell D’Avion just shook his head as he cut the link, “Have a good one Will”.

2. Operation: Interdiction

Parliament House,
Westminster,
Britannia,
Britannic Coalition,
9th August, 3068

The Speaker of the House rose as the clerk handed her the card with the results of the vote. “The Aye’s to the right, 14…the No’s to the Left, 7. The motion is approved by a two-thirds majority”.

There were muted cheers from one half of the chamber and grumbling from the other, but Sandringham knew it was mainly for the cameras that recorded and broadcast such events for the public on CBC’s Parliament channel. Since the Regent was supposed to remain politically neutral, he’d had no part in the process. However, that hadn’t stopped him using his connections to sway one or two of the more easily influenced planetary governors.

He punched some buttons on his com unit to call Robert Jackson. After a few moments, the screen lit up, filled by the expectant face of his Chief of Staff. “Good morning, sir. I take it you have good news?”

“I do indeed, Rob. Operation Interdiction is a go”.

The Precentor-Commander nodded, his face set with a look of professional determination. “Very well, sir. I’ll inform Precentor Bainbridge at once”.

Jackson cut the link and William suddenly realised, with that simple exchange of words, he’d committed hundreds of men and women to a military action against a little-known enemy with uncertain consequences.

In his seat, high up in the public gallery, he sighed as he watched a number of the governors exchange knowing nods, winks and, in some cases, rude gestures as they filed out of the chamber. It was a hell of a way to run an empire. As head of state, William Sandringham technically ruled the Britannic Coalition, but in reality, that job was best left to the individual governors, since they were best placed to decide what the populace of their worlds needed. As such, the Regent’s main job was to act as ambassador for the Coalition, forming alliances, signing treaties and trade agreements and generally ensuring the future safety and prosperity of the state.

As Regent, he did have executive powers that could be exercised as and when he saw fit. He was only too aware, however, of their double-edged nature. Use them wisely and to the benefit of the state and he would be seen as a great ruler. Misuse them and bring trouble to the Coalition and he’d be kicked out of office so fast, he wouldn’t know what hit him.

He sighed again. Sometimes he envied the likes of Sun-Tzu Liao and Theodore Kurita, who ruled their domains with total authority. But as always, he was reminded of the old adage that power corrupts, while absolute power corrupts absolutely. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out what absolute power was like…he worried about what kind of person it might turn him into.

***

BCS Indefatigable,
Zenith Jump Point,
Aston,
Britannic Coalition,
10th August, 3068

In the Indy’s briefing room, Adept Dixon Lotouré and Precentor Philip Bainbridge addressed the Britannia Guards’ senior officers. Also present was Captain Alannah Jerricho. The commander of the Coyote Cavaliers’ Bravo Company, who had also been acting as the Guards’ training officer, had insisted on the mercenaries’ presence on this mission, to oversee their charges and monitor their performance on this, their first major engagement.

“Ladies and gentlemen”, Bainbridge began. “For our inaugural mission we are going up against Morrison’s Extractors…possibly the most bloodthirsty bunch of pirates in the Inner Sphere”. He noted the worried looks shared by some of the more junior Guardsmen. “But don’t let that put you off. They’re nasty and they’re numerically superior, but from what little we know about them, their loyalty and fighting spirit tend to be proportional to the amount of booty they’re fighting for…and inversely proportional to the strength of the opposition. I think they’ll be a different proposition when faced with a well-trained, professional fighting force”. He glanced across at Alannah. “Captain Jerricho and I have been impressed with your performances in training so far. Now you get a chance to put everything you’ve learned to the test”. He stepped back and allowed Jerricho to take his place.

The mercenary commander stepped forward and began to speak, without referring to any notes. “Our latest intelligence estimates put the Extractors’ strength at two regiments. However, their forces are divided equally between The Rack and Pain, so we will not be outnumbered in any one engagement. The RAAF have provided us with data from their surveillance ships, so we have a pretty good idea of the pirates’ base of operations on each world. The battle plan is pretty straightforward. Our aim is to eliminate these vermin, or at least destroy them as a credible fighting force. However, they have strength in numbers and we do not have the resources to fight a prolonged battle, so our plan is to hit them hard and fast before they have time to organise themselves”.

She nodded to an aide who stood by the room’s projection unit, who switched the device on. On the white display screen behind her appeared video footage, shot by a remote-controlled probe. The picture showed an unremarkable orange-and-brown planet, viewed from space.

“This is The Rack...a hot, arid world with few natural water sources. Average daytime temperature is 42 degrees Celsius, dropping to around zero at night”. She pushed a button on the projector’s remote control and fast-forwarded the footage as the probe drew closer to the planet and began descending through its atmosphere.

“The RAAF picked up significant electronic emissions from the southern continent and directed the probe accordingly”. The video showed the probe flying over rocky desert terrain, through deep, boulder-strewn valleys and across wide, open plains and dry riverbeds. She paused the playback as a collection of buildings came into view. There was a single, large, solid-looking, weather-beaten structure, surrounded by a number of smaller ones, sat atop a large hill or plateau, surrounded by a large depression that suggested a lake had once existed there. The site overlooked what appeared to be a small town, situated close to one of the planet’s few rivers. The terrain was markedly greener here - suggesting the locals had managed to start some kind of agriculture.

“This plateau is the most likely location of the Second Extractors’ base of operations. However, a direct assault on the base would be futile, given its commanding position. Instead we will make our drop ten kilometres to the north, putting this line of hills between us and keeping the combat area well away from the town. We expect that the Extractors will behave in typical pirate fashion and react aggressively to our landing. This should make our job a lot easier”. She advanced the footage to the drop zone and clicked a few more buttons, superimposing the intended force deployments onto the terrain.

“To attack us, the Extractors will have to come through this canyon, forcing them to concentrate their forces in one area. We let them make it all the way through, then III Alpha will charge their centre hard and fast, causing as much chaos and confusion as possible. III Bravo and Gamma will then sweep in from the flanks, which should force them to divert their firepower three ways and enable us to overwhelm them. As a precautionary measure, the Cavaliers’ Bravo Company will deploy in reserve”.

At that, Bainbridge shot her a hard glance, which she sensed but did not acknowledge. “As I said before, our primary purpose is to observe…however, should there be any unforeseen difficulties, we will be there to assist”.

As she stepped down, Adept Lotouré took her place. “We will be making our initial jump from here to Black Isle in the Royalist Alliance. From there we will make a series of further jumps through their territory, using a chain of recharge stations to juice our jump drive, so we can cover the distance in half the normal time. From there we’ll be going through uncharted territory as we skirt round the Rim Collection. Our first drop-off point is The Rack. It’s defended by the Second Extractors…a newer unit led by Morrison’s second-in-command. According to intel, this should be the easier of the two targets and represents the best opportunity to test ourselves in a real battlefield scenario. Once we’re done there, we head for Pain. This will be a tougher fight…the First Extractors are led by Hopper Morrison himself, a real nasty piece of work. If even half the rumours are true, I strongly suggest you don’t allow yourselves to get left behind there. Apparently, if they take any prisoners they…”

“Thank you Adept”, said Bainbridge, stepping forward and politely ushering Lotouré to one side. “Ladies and gents, this concludes our briefing. Your unit commanders will supervise your training and brief you on your specific roles within your units. Please direct any further questions to them in the first instance...dismissed”.

The room erupted into a low buzz of conversation as the Guards filed out to begin preparations for the mission ahead. Bainbridge pulled Jerricho to one side as she was about to leave. “Just what do you think you’re playing at? That wasn’t in the mission plan!” he hissed.

Alannah, unaccustomed to being manhandled, glared at him. “I assume you are referring to my decision to accompany the Guards on the mission?”

“You know damn well that’s what I mean! What’s the matter – don’t you trust them?” Don’t think us Periphery types can live up to your high standards?”

Alannah yanked her arm from the Precentor’s grip. “For your information sir, I expect the Guards to acquit themselves perfectly well. However, this is their first real combat and I cannot be expected to just stay here and watch the battle unfold in a holotank”.

Already regretting his outburst, Philip began to apologise. "I'm sorry. I've read your MRBC file and I know the Cavaliers are rated as an elite unit...currently third in the performance category behind Wolf's Dragoons and the Kell Hounds, if memory serves...and you've never been out of the top five since the unit was founded. I...we all appreciate what you're doing. Its just..."

Jerricho nodded, her annoyance abating somewhat. "I understand, sir. I also appreciate that you are a veteran officer and that it cannot be easy to accept help from mercenaries".

She turned away and stalked towards the door, before speaking again. “Having overseen their training for the last twelve months, I have something of a vested interest in the Guards. Their performance will reflect not only their own ability, but on my ability as a training officer”. With that she disappeared from sight.

Philip stared at the empty doorway in surprise. In the year he'd spent working with her, that was as close as she'd ever come to making an apology and admitting that she cared about her work. 'Maybe the Ice Maiden has a warm heart after all…' he mused.