Month: January 2024

17 December 3080 2120hrs local

Outskirts of Brookstone

Centarus, Federated Suns

   By nightfall shuttles from the Elysium had made at least 3 trips to the Incident Control Area outside of Brookstone. Most of the initial work had been setting up large shelters for housing, triage, and shelter. Just before sun set over the city, the Dropship ShangraLa descended bringing her cargo of Combat Engineers, Engineering and Mash Vehicles and most importantly, more medical personnel. Teams reported in and laid into helping the injured or transporting survivors to Johnson Spaceport for housing.

 They also carefully cleared wreckage as they searched for survivors and most importantly, recovered the dead. Over at Johnson Spaceport, the units designated to guard the people of the heinous attack were loading into their Dropships prepping for a quick suborbital trip. The units remaining behind shifted into two groups- the first reset their defensive perimeter while the second prepared the warehouses to house the survivors who will be arriving at dawn.

Legion Command Perimeter

  Adam Pryme knew he would be getting no sleep tonight. With the perimeter set and the pickets alert and out, there was really nothing left to do but sit and wait. The Broken Arrow’s Cycle Scouts had reported the Grey Bolts picket mechs had moved back to the bunkers, giving them a good idea where the entrances were. They also reported some strange emissions coming from an area that was well camouflaged. They weren’t sure but surmised it might be a large containment area.

  Even with all these things on his mind, His son remained in the forefront. He knew Josias Barnes, the leader of the Grey Bolts, wouldn’t kill him. No, the bastard son of a bitch knew he had a trump card to play. The only worry Pryme had right now was that if Barnes had nothing to do with the nuclear attacks, that his ace was now the joker in the deck; either very valuable or totally useless. Joseph was alive if they thought he had value- and even then, that was a gamble.

 Even without sensors he knew that Kommandant Spector’s Victor had moved up next to his. She opened up a secure channel. [You can’t Either] she said quietly. He didn’t answer, but he knew she understood he was just listening as she continued. [Adam, get some rest. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow and I……. Joseph needs you to have a clear head. By the way, have you seen Vance and Veratoni? Their mech is here but I dismounted and checked; they aren’t in it.]

 Adam finally spoke. “I’m pretty sure whatever those two are up to, we don’t want to know.”

 Spector never understood the relationship between Pryme, Veratoni and Vance. Veratoni and Vance acted more like his private security than a commo team… and although she had known Veratoni for quite some time she knew absolutely nothing.

 As Kommandant she opened Veratoni’s personnel file and found that her (and Vance’s, when she looked) files were sealed- for the commanders’ eyes only. Spector’s thoughts on this were broken when Pryme spoke again. “Make the rounds Lor; in 4 hours wake me up and then you can get some rest. It’s going to be a very long day.”

 He had a plan and he just hoped it would work. First, he had to get a message to someone special- and hoped that he was right about their being receptive to it… and the second was that he guessed right on Barnes’ game…. Cause it was the only thing that made sense.

18 December 3080 0900hrs

Legion Command Perimeter

   Kommandant Barnes was, if nothing else, punctual.

 At 0900 hours the commo unit on the ground car, which had been moved into a temporary structure, came to life and Grey Bolt leader’s face appeared on the monitor. The conversation between Pryme and Barnes was casual, almost friendly. It shocked everyone in the spaces, except Spector who knew that the two of them had served on the 3rd Lyran Guards together. One would have to read between the lines to understand the intent.

 “Well Adam how the hell are you!” (You haven’t got me yet bastard)

 “Doing well just taking a walk in the woods.” (I’ve got you surrounded you son of a bitch)

 “Well, fine weather for it, better than the storm we had last night” (Your artillery was annoying but that’s about it) A pause. “By the by, how’s the family.” (I have your son)

 “I’m not sure I haven’t seen him for a while” (I know you have him)

 “Well, I’m sure he’s fine” (He’s alive…. for now)

 “Since you called what can I do for you.” (What do you want!)

 “I’d like to slip out and take a long walk.” (I want off planet.)

 With that last statement, Pryme sent everyone but Lori Spector out of the one room building. “OK Barnes let’s talk… out in the open. You know you are not getting out; even if I LET you get past me, you’re done. Your Word of Blake Employers set off several nuclear devices in cities across the planet for starters… The Legion wants you alive if possible but at this point dead is just as good because of those bombs, if you had part of them or not. The Phoenix Lancers want you dead for those reasons right now… and the Wolverine clan- well, I can’t even imagine what they’ll do to you if they ever get their hands on you- they aren’t fond of people trying to kill civilians….”

 Pryme knew the Grey Bolts hadn’t gone out of their way to kill Civilians but there was guilt by association where some Clanners were concerned. And he was betting Barnes both remembered some clanners thought that way and thought these Myths in the flesh were one of those that had issue with hurting non-combatants.

 “Speaking of the Wolverines… we broke the encoding on this machine and the Khan of the Wolverines is listening as a witness to all this… Trust me, he is waiting for you to be stupid. My son is keeping you alive. There’s a warship overhead- if Joseph dies orbital bombardment follows.” Pryme was bluffing on the bombardment; he didn’t know if the Wolverines or even if Tinney would allow it again on this planet- but he was pretty sure Barnes didn’t know either. That it had happened once already was enough of a threat for a second time….

  Adam could see the frustration build on Barnes’ face. It was the same look he had when Barnes was passed over for promotion in the Lyran Guard in favor of Pryme (for the third time) before Katherine Steiner cut his family loose. There was an anguished scream from the other end of the picture as the pressure manifested in words. [This… this is all your fault! From beginning to end of your time with the Everswords, you have worked to make my life miserable,] He snarled at him through the image. [If I could wrap my hands around your throat, I would end you! You will find a way to let us off this fucking world or you will have to dig us out brick by brick!!]

 On screen, Pryme and Spector could see Barnes throwing things against walls. Another voice broke into the signal- initially the picture blanked out then a second picture joined the first as the signal was hacked and re-transmitted to both their screens. [This is Khan John Hollister of the Wolverines. I and my command have been monitoring this discussion and your situation closely… And I believe there is something of an impasse between the two of you.]

Everyone listening immediately became very quiet as it was figured out quickly that the Big Stick in the room was politely demanding their attention.

 [Commander Barnes, Commander Pryme… It would seem to me that you have issue with each other that goes back far longer than the Seventh of December… and that it is one which cannot be resolved via normal diplomatic means. Indeed… perhaps it is a disagreement that can only be resolved through a means available via another culture’s methods… which I am now suggesting.

 It is quite apparent this impasse may only be resolved though martial means and I, as a fairly neutral third party, suggest it be done through a Modified Trial of Grievance, with the units surviving participation in the trial taken as Isorla… unless another resolution is proposed, of which I happen to have one and detailing shortly.

 As far as it can be determined… this entire situation requires resolution right now before it gets out of hand.] Hollister paused, letting his words sink in along with the emphasis on specific parts. [Commander Barnes, if you win this Trial, the Legion will stand down and I will grant you access to the space lanes. And you, Commander Pryme… if you win the Grey Bolts will stand down and surrender themselves. The only other condition for this trial to proceed will be that the release of the ransom prior to the Trial. On that, there will be no duplicity… and will show adherence to agreement made for this Trial.]

 Hollister ceased speaking for a full five seconds. [If this agreeable to all parties?]

A wry smile came across the leader of the Grey Bolts’ face and his answer was slow, but deliberate. [Absolutely. Pryme, you up for this?]

Pryme spoke deliberately “Anytime, anyplace.” He knew Clan Customs… and also knew this had to be something both new and done before- the Khan’s suggestion sounding practiced. Modified Grievance? There is a story here…

 [As it is agreed to, the bidding begins right now. Commander Barnes of the Grey Bolts, with what forces will you defend?]

 Barnes sneered slightly. [I offer up one lance.]

 [Commander Pryme of the Khon Kaen Legion, what is your bid?]

 Pryme replied fairly quickly. “I bid My Command Team and two from the XO’s lance. That is four machines total…”

 Khan Hollister smiled slightly at their responses as he gave them the rules and the rewards. [As the forces are equivalent, I consider the bids closed and accepted.] After a moment, Hollister continued speaking, his voice still in neutral tone as if reading the weather.

 [There is a valley at the coordinates I’m sending both of your commands right now. Commander Barnes you will enter the east side of the valley, Commander Pryme you will enter the west side. That will be your circle of equals and there will be no others present outside of Observers as chosen by me to keep both parties… honest.] A genuine smile briefly graced his features before it disappeared, and he continued. [Let this be the rede we live… or die by. You will both be at your starting point tomorrow at dawn or there will be repercussions. Khan Hollister clear.] The signal returned to the normal image on the respective screens as Hollister departed.

  [Well, I guess I will see you tomorrow,] Barnes replied and then he smiled, [AS I recall, Clanner Khans keep their word and I have no reason to think this mythical one won’t… so I’m sending your son out to you- if only to say Goodbye,] Barnes began laughing as he cut the feed.

 “Adam, are you mad!” Lori yelled as she turned to face him. “You know that bastard is up to something!”

 Pryme was calm as he replied to his exec. “I know, I know… and so am I. I have to let him think he has me right where he wants me. Besides, we both know that Khan will keep his word; he’ll give him the space lane.” Then Pryme smiled. “Orders have already been sent. If we can’t take him, all Jump ships that are ours that are capable will jump out of this system or move off out of sight. And courtesy of Hollister, everyone else that can’t or wont jump will be disabled long before he reaches the jump point. He’ll have no where to go and no ride to leave the system…

 Out there, he’ll have two choices, stay in space and face Wolverine warships or ground somewhere and face the Lancers and whatever allies are available to crush them. Which isn’t much a choice, when you think about it. I’m just glad Hollister went along with it. Otherwise, this was going to be a whole lot riskier.”

 Lori Spector smiled, “So that’s where they went… and it’s still crazy. Too much can still go wrong.”

 “Yes,” Pryme said. “I had the scout cycles take them to Johnson Spaceport so Charlotte could get a secure channel no one else could listen in on. They’ll be back shortly.” The leader of the Legion took a deep breath then let it out. “One way or another this ends, Lori. We’ve all been away from home far too long.”

 He looked directly at her. “Understand Lori, if things go badly- withdraw and let him win.” Lori looked suprised but said nothing. “Relax… I’m not planning on dying but if it happens, my son is now the Commander and he’ll need a good Exec to guide him. Now let’s work on plans for tomorrow.”

Zathras Assembly Area

1217 Hours local (0917 Johnson)

 Hollister sat back on the chair in the M36 command post and looked over at Tinney, “Well… that went better than I thought it would.”

 Tinney looked back at his fellow leader. “Yeah it did…” He said as he sipped a coffee. “He’s right you know…” At the questioning look from Hollister, he clarified. “I do want his ass dead… or at least in front of a trial judge prior to finding a wall to stand against.”

 A nod. “I know… but to quote one of your people, that’s crazy talk.” The Khan stood then. “I would think you would want to pummel him a bit first….” A slight smile crossed his features before he continued. “Do not worry… I am not letting them leave the system; I will order each and every one of their craft turned to scrap before I let them leave, should the Legion fail.”

 It was Tinney’s turn to look askance at his friend. “Oh?”

 A nod. “I spoke to Charlotte a bit more last night after agreeing to do this idea, as mad as it sounds,” he said, pointing at the vidcom pickup. “She recommended we agree to this and explained herself when I questioned why. In the explanation, I learned a little bit about the persons involved and their histories…. your Chief Warrant officer is dangerous with a computer, John… and I think she might have scared this Veratoni a little with how easily she cracked the cyphers. In any case, Barnes and his people cannot be allowed to leave. Cannot…”

“That bad?”

 “Bad enough that I will be at this Trial with MY Command Lance as observers,” the Khan replied. “If there is treachery, it will be the last time they ever do such a thing.”

City of Landing and the Phoenix Lancers Main Compound (31 Kilometers north of Landing)

17 December 3080

The city of Landing was the original location of colonization and since that time, it had grown reasonably smartly with decent planning for efficient travel and movement of people to and from the world as well as on the planet. The main space port, rail center and major facilities were all located here.

 Also here was a portion of Phoenix Lancer’s original command facilities.  All on the edge of the city, they were predominately the older facilities that were used by the forerunners of the Lancers, the original SLDF regiments that were the founders of the current unit.  While updated constantly over the years, their use had been outgrown and the decision made to move to a newer facility constructed, after the last invasion, to the north of the city. As a result, by the time of this assault, almost everything that had been here… was relocated.

 The only thing that had not been relocated was the Regimental Museum and as a result, the original buildings were relegated to peacetime use or for ceremonies and the bulk of the original compound was now civilian.

 The two bombs that detonated here in the city… leveled the majority of the old base, despite its reinforced military grade construction. A handful of buildings remained upright; among them was the Museum.  And it would be a long time before anyone, or anything, would be able to venture there.

 As with the original facility, the newer one north of the city was supplied with power from Landing; the city’s substantial Fusion Plants are more than able to support the compounds’ needs. Backup generating plants were located on the compound, a little bit away from the facility but well within its defensive perimeter.

  Within the perimeter, the antenna farms used by the Lancers for military communications were also set up to be a secondary transmission point for city communications when there were periods of maintenance required for the civilian gear.

  Located on the ridgelines near the base and its landing fields, they were located away from the compound as per a long-standing tradition of major bases in almost every army in the Inner Sphere.  Anything that generated signal could be targets for airstrike and artillery, given the proper means for zeroing in on such things and having them within a perimeter was an invitation for disaster.

 As such, transmission towers tended to be away from major buildings when possible.  If they could be located in an elevated area, it would be even better for reception or transmission. And the Lancer towers were sited well for their jobs, both primary and secondary ones. 

 When the bombs went off, the overall effects at the base were more in the initial loss of power and master communications use. The towers on the ridgeline were initially able to withstand the EMP pulse, being hardened against such things and operations was able to see what had happened… up until the concussive wave hit as it followed the terrain upwards.

 First to go was the dishes, the cowlings shredding from debris and then the actual straight tower antenna, pieces of dish and destroyed building debris blown there from the city, crashing into them. Backup Towers located within the compound kicked in as the primaries went down, with everything now being powered by the compound backup power plant.

 Evacuation alerts went out to personnel within the compound, the Shelter siren sounding as radiation monitors registered the blasts within the city before they were obliterated. The alarms lasted for about nine seconds before the backups failed in a spectacular blast; explosive charges planted recently by an undiscovered agent within the Lancers.

 Despite the blasts to the secondary generator controls, there was still power due to long established battery backups along with a VERY small tertiary plant, contained in the main compound basements. So, for those who made it to the shelters and bunkers, they would have power (if limited).  Efforts immediately began to reestablish communications with *someone*. Given all the electromagnetic and electronic interference, obtaining anything was a struggle.

 It would be almost an hour before any sort of signal was able to be punched through the mess… and even then, it wasn’t much more than an old fashioned Morse Code signal on an absolutely ancient comms system off of a being-refurbished Ymir in the tech shops attached to the repair bays. It wasn’t much but it was hope… proving to the fleet and Forbes Center that there were survivors.

 The various dropships located on the compound landing field weathered the EMP storm well, the craft well shielded from such things. None of them were crewed with anything more than a skeleton security crew except for the Alert Ships. These ships attempted to close up their doors and began preparations for lifting, their destinations being Forbes and or Sage, depending on which was in the clear. Unfortunately for the majority of them, they weren’t fast enough closing up, the EMP getting in through unshielded bay doors and frying electronics in these beasts too. Doors did get closed though, the systems to operate them being resilient and resistant to electronic issues.  Which was good for those on the ships as, once closed, they were good against the radiation and fallout.   Being the vessels they were, survivors on them could last a long time. It would take a few days at most, but most of these craft would manage to lift once repairs were made to enable lifting off.

  Speaking of combat forces, the Mechs within the bays were in good shape, the external buildings of the hangars strong enough to take what debris reached the base over the ridgelines. Getting out of the bays though, was a problem as there was not enough power for the doors to open them, the multi-ton barricades difficult to move otherwise. Fortunately, or unfortunately, the only mechs within the compound was Delta First Battalion and they were currently without their commander. He was in operations when the bombs went off and evacuated to the Operations Shelter with Governor Sodher-Schaller.

.

 **

 When the bombs went off, it too caught Edgar Johns off guard. He had not known about the bombs, per se, having assisted in getting various deliveries shipped in and using his position’s authority to help get items through customs. It fell to other cells to get items shipped throughout Centarus, but it had been him who got them out of holding.

 As he was part of the Ready Alert mech forces here, he was already in the hangars when the klaxons sounded.  As he raced to get his machine sealed up, it occurred to him that the contents of those boxes that he helped get in might not have been exactly what he thought they were. Oh my god, he thought. He never said he was bringing in nukes. Be just like him though….

 Edgar had been a friend of Dyckman back when he had been a member of the Lancers fifteen years ago and had remained in occasional contact after he left. He’d been off world during the first invasion and part of the relief forces that liberated the planet in ’72.

 He’d kept his associations quiet back then and had not heard from his old friend in some time. When Dyckman contacted him about a year past and said he was coming back, Edgar had resisted helping until Josh mentioned if anyone discovered their ties, the Lancers were sure to remove him from his position… perhaps even exile him.

 That he could be exiled did not sit well with Edgar and he reluctantly agreed to help, the threat being huge to the Lancer, who had no friends or family outside of the unit. So, over the last few months, he had assisted with those shipments and arranged clearances of containers to places all over the planet. In a few cases, it was people he helped get through Immigration, his position helping a bit with smoothing over questions about where some came from.

 Activating the start-up sequence on his Marauder, he pondered what was to come next. He knew Lancer Intelligence was pretty good… but it would be some time before anyone could figure out where these things came from. Pretty sure Chen is dead, he thought. There is no way Josh would have let that man out of his sight… and he had to be in the Bombardment area.

 As he waited for some sort of signal for anything other than the Company on his command systems, he sat quietly trying to think of any other possible loose ends. Outside of erasing his personal com unit of calls from the last three months, he was pretty sure he was in the clear. In a very selfish thought, he realized any records in the shipping companies were likely destroyed due to the bombings- which would mean there was no possible evidence linking him to any of this.

 It was cold comfort… but it was comfort.

 Testudo Base Operations

Continent of Tolkien

 It was late at night at Testudo Base when the nukes detonated on Cromwell.  The nighttime watch officer, Sergeant Heather Coins, was on duty in the reclaimed Operations Building when the blasts went off.  She initially stared at the satellite feeds in shock then lifted the phone.  She knew her boss had an alert app for events going on over on Cromwell, having added it when the invasion started… but it was still SOP to notify him when things went sideways on the main continent. Nukes exploding was definitely a sideways event…

 “Sir… Coins in Ops,” She said into the phone. “Sorry to wake you.”

 [Its ok, I wasn’t asleep anyway,] Chief Warrant Eric Harvie replied. [And I just had an alert hit my comm unit but no data.]

 “About that… there have been multiple nuclear detonations on Cromwell. Two in Landing, one in Brookstone…” She said as she quickly looked over the new feeds coming from Forbes and the sats in orbit. “One on Ashton in Mohave Port… and a radiation spike in Suzail- possible fizzle, per AI Analysis…”

 Silence on the other end of the phone for five seconds. [On my way… go ahead and hit the alert klaxon, Coins…] he said as she could hear him moving. [I want people ready for shelters if needed.  Send out messages to the Mordor security detachment too… We errored last time on that and I’ll not make the same mistake a second time.]

 “At once, sir.” She said and reached over to a panel, activating the Alert Sirens. “Additional orders?”

 [No] he replied. [There ins five minutes… Clear]

 She cut the connection then dialed the code for the Mordor Security Group’s main building. 

 The Mordor Detachment was a group of about one hundred sixty security troops responsible for patrolling the camps and manufacturing centers on Tolkien.  Most of the facilities were semi-automated, with only minimal workers per facility responsible for maintaining computers and machines.  All told, between security and work forces, there were approximately thirty-five hundred persons down there, give or take. Not many… but they were entitled to know what was going on here and elsewhere.

 The night watch for the MSG answered her immediately and was made aware of what she knew. After his initial shock, he told Coins he’d get everyone up. Not that there was a direct threat… but you never knew anymore.

 Other personnel filtered into Operations at this point and were brought up to speed.  When Eric arrived, he was on the comms with his son, who was out in the village with Mikey Johns, helping her with fixing her general store. “Ok… that’s what I got. I don’t think I need you back here yet.” He paused, listening to a response. “Alright… get your gear fired up. As long as she’s fine with it, at least. Otherwise, come back here.”

 Another pause. “Ok. Let me know… Later.” He hung up his comm unit and walked over to Coins. “Ok… what do we have?”

 “Still not a lot…” She replied as the planet Hologram sprung up in the tank, with the bomb sites annotated. “On the ground, imagery confirms four locations for actual detonations; two of them are located on either end of Landing, one near the docks in Brookstone and the last full detonation looks like it was in a freight yard at Port Mohave.”

 She zoomed in the holo to show Cromwell. “Brookstone suffered heavy- the entire area close to the piers and Drop Port are gone. Extensive damage to the bulk of the borough; I call it 75 percent or better are collapsed or destroyed outright within a kilometer of the blast.  Damage falls off some the further away you go but that’s cold comfort; Brookstone is only about five total kilometers wide from the coast inward and maybe half again up and down the coast.”

 Eric looked at the image, noting the Lancer Housing Areas for those who were stationed out there was north above the blast zones along with the base but not in them. “Western Base looks like it was spared…”

 Coins nodded. “It looks that way from this image, but I am certain there is plenty of damage there.  Blast waves of this magnitude travel a good distance. Last known population for Brookstone was about thirty thousand in the immediate area….” She drew the image back and shifted towards Landing on the globe, knowing it was about to be asked after next.

 “Landing…” Coins choked up some. She was from Landing and seeing it destroyed… it was all she could do to keep her emotion in check. “Systems estimate sixty to seventy percent casualties among the city inhabitants. Unknown currently who outside the city is affected yet. All the storage yards and facilities Lancers maintained… are in the blast zones.”

 Eric stared at the holographic image before him, silent as he contemplated what was going on.  After almost a minute, he asked the hardest question. “Colonel Tinney?”

 Coins replied instantly. “He’s alive and engaged with the Word of Blake command element north of Zathras, along with several combat detachments. Unknown as to his condition- I haven’t drilled down in the data enough to look but if you need it…”

 Eric held up a hand. “No… I don’t need to know if he’s getting his ass kicked or kicking ass,” he said with a grim smile. “I know his ability and his temper… To be honest, I almost feel sorry for anyone with the Blakist command group.  Almost… because he’s going to kill every last one of them if they are stupid enough to fight him after this… and they will deserve it.” He continued to look at the hologram of the continent of Cromwell. “What else?”

 Coins tapped on a keypad and the image shifted once more, this time to the port of Mohave on Ashton. “Last blast area…” she stated as she consulted notes. “Mohave… the port storage areas for containers off conventional ships is gone. A large amount of freight for the various clusters of residents throughout the continent is likely destroyed; unknown how much is resources, but the epicenter is the Masterson Freight Lines Conex yard.”

 She looked over at Eric. “Chief, if it was still packed at all, the effect on supplies for everyone down there is going to be affected… and the smaller ports north and south can’t handle it.”

 Eric looked back at her. “Yeah…” he said. “When Spades gets in, you two tackle what Mordor might have in raw resources to send.  This side of the planet isn’t going to have much… but we gotta have something to help…”

On board the Mustafa In orbit over Centarus

1315 Zathras time

 Commodore Callihan stood in the center of the battlecruiser’s bridge, watching the feeds on the virtual screens and listening to the various communications coming in and out of the bridge and gave a slight smile.

 Not since the fleet battle a few months ago at Barbados had his crew been tested like this, and he was pleased they were rising to the occasion.  He had communicated with his Khan and with his permission, detached the Gloria to head over towards the giant Legion drop ship Elysium, in orbit over Johnson. The Whirlwind class destroyer had taken a beating in the fleet battle of ten days ago but she could still fight if needed… and as a guard, she was plenty capable.

  After notifying the Legion captain of her being sent, he had his operations department work with Forbes Center and the Air Boss for the Legion in setting up something for emergency shuttle operations to grab equipment from Legion sources and areas untouched by the devastation below.

 Thankfully, the Phoenix Lancers had the forethought to have multiple locations all over the planet for supply dumps and good records of what was where. Not all of it was appropriate, of course, but there were caches of useful items everywhere. Unfortunately for all involved, the one item they did not have much of was medical supplies for dealing with radiation sickness or injuries related to the nuclear blast that were not trauma related.

 There were plenty of other facilities and supplies for combat injuries… but nowhere near enough for tens of thousands of trauma cases or burn victims. Nowhere near enough… and people were going to die from it.  Too many, he thought to himself. Far too many…

 Just then, Lieutenant Ebon, the current communications officer, spoke up. “Sir, Priority message from Colonel Tinney in Zathras.”

 Callihan nodded. “On screen, Lieutenant…”

 On the right virtual screen, the face of Tinney appeared, a bandage on his forehead and somewhat dirty from the field of battle. Lines of exhaustion and stress grace(?) the man’s features as he spoke. [Commodore…]

 “Sir,” He replied. “Are you ok?” Callihan had seen the man tired and injured before. But like this?

 [Been better but I’ll manage,] Tinney replied, tiredly. [I already got with your Khan, and he concurs; we need you to reach out to Woodbine and get notification out about what happened here.  The faster the Sector authorities know what’s going on, the faster we might get outside aid. While we have plenty of supplies, we don’t have enough for everything… and damn sure not enough of the right kind.]

 The planetary governor and leader of the Lancers closed his eyes briefly then opened them once more. [Not enough… and while we can’t prevent all the deaths to come, we can do something to help many hold on… perhaps long enough for the right stuff to show. Faster someone knows…]

 “The faster that aid may arrive. I will get the message out, John; Within the half-hour,” Callihan replied. “I was just thinking on the issue of supplies…. And how precarious they are.”

 A slight smile. [Precarious is an understatement…] Tinney replied. [Do what you can where you can, Kevin. Thy Khan and I are trying to get things moving here. Helps he and I have some motivated people… And the Legion pitching in with what they have is a huge bit, too.]

 “It is…” Callihan said. “By your leave, I will get to having that message constructed and sent out.”

 [Thank you…] He replied. [I’d do it but right now….]

“John, this is why you have subordinates and partners in this,” Callihan could sense Tinney’s mental exhaustion even through the comms. That man is overwhelmed and on the verge of a break down unless he gets something resembling good news, He thought. “I will send the message via HPG and dispatch a ship with it as a safeguard. It will get out…”

 [All I can ask for, Commodore… all I can ask for. Tinney clear.] With that, the signal dropped.

 “Sir, signal ended their end,” Ebon commented.

“Indeed,” he said turned to the communications officer. “Ebon, I need Operations in the conference room in two minutes and Commander Whitfield on the bridge as soon as possible. Until then, Tactical Officer Robertson has Command.” With that, he turned and headed for the small conference room off the Bridge. He had a message to write and it needed to be done fast… and done complete.

 There was lives of many on the line, as well as the sanity of some very stressed people too.  And one of those he just got off the comms with…

Operations Center, Woodbine HPG
Woodbine, Federated Suns
Late on 17 December, 3080

 The Demi-Precentor on duty in the facility Command Center blinked at the transcription he was just handed. It was a message from that Warship HPG they had exchanged messages with the day before and this one was no less unusual.  In fact, it was downright distressing to him on a number of levels as he came from a Medical background.

 If it was to be believed, the message from that warship was advising the Planet of Centarus had just sustained several nuclear attacks on its surface from devices previously unknown to any authorities. It also included estimates of casualties and a request for aid in dealing with the effects of nuclear burns, radiations sicknesses and general medical supplies for over a million-plus casualties.

 It indicated that a ship would be coming with a copy of this message and a copy of known data of where the blast zones were. Included would be what estimates of casualties able to be determined prior to the ship’s departure.

 Looking over to the tech that handed him the transcript, he said. “Waken Precentor VanGriff and tell him he’s needed here as soon as possible…. And forward the appropriate portions of this message to the Federated Suns Liaison and their Medical Authorities right away,” He said. “There are lives at stake here… and the Liaison Officer might want to try and hurry up his relief convoy with this information.  Anything he sends out, message wise, attach a priority tag to it.”

 It wasn’t much but it was what he could do without additional authority. VanGriff might be an asshole… but he’d want to help. And the faster a word was passed, the better.

 “At once, Demi-Precentor.”

With Task Force Clearfield…

 The two Jenners, seeing the Lancer company, had kept moving, bypassing the heavy company as they wanted no part of them again.  This would prove to save their lives, though not for long as events would play out.

 For as the Dragoon Company commanded by Major Borton advanced forward, they exchanged some initial fire with the Hillbillies, and when it became apparent everyone had range, all hell broke loose. The anger of the Lancers was delivered through their weapons and the carnage was near total. The order for No Quarter seemed to guide weapon strikes to places they needed to go.

 Shawn Theime, in his Caesar, targeted an enemy Hatchetman and removed the entire head assembly of the machine as his Heavy PPC slammed home in to it’s faceplate. Cookie Bastardi, in his Warhammer, did much the same to the other, as a small laser lead the way for one of his particle cannons to remove the head of the Hatchetman the was heading for him.

Graf covered Jim Thieme as he maneuvered his Grasshopper forward, the Exec’s Thunderbolt hammering the Battlemaster that appeared to be the enemy pivot point. Wisely, the target moved to a point where he could no longer be seen by the Executive Officer. However, its movement brought him into range of the close quarters heavy mech piloted by Pops.

 Off on the flank, the two Enforcers attempted to break the Lancer lines and rip up Sanchez Hachiman’s Helios.  On their way in, Barry managed to hit one at range with his LRM’s and a slug from his Light Barrel. The one his hit, the damage from both his and other weapons having removed its ability to shoot back, attempted to perform a Death from Above on Sanchez.

 In doing so, the target of the attempted assault merely stood his ground and blew the jumper right out of the sky much like a duck hunter would a mallard.

 The other fell into view of Kev (Rocket) Kanada in his Cataphracht CTF-3L, the larger machine having the rear of the offending Enforcer. And he let the enemy machine know he screwed up as every weapon struck it, shredding armor as if it was paper.  As it teetered to the ground, it was helped there by a volley of mech-sized buckshot from the Major as he shifted his aim to it.

 The enemy Jagermech, having peppered the hell out of the Warhammer in Hera Somer’s lance, earned punishment from her and the rest of her men, practically removing half the machine. As it attempted to escape, its movement brought it into the line of sight of Doc Jethro in his Orion VC, the two light and one ER PPCs of his machine using the assistance of its targeting computer to guide them, slammed into the crippled Air Defense machine.  All three shots stuck the remaining torso and ripped it apart, setting off its ammunition bins and dropping the heavy machine like a marionette, its strings cut.

The remaining forces of the Hillbillies, seeing the rapid devastation of their companions, wavered in their desire to stay.  This decision was given more import when the Battlemaster, having squared off against Pops in his Grasshopper, was brought low by a combination of damage from Graf at range and the accurate fire from Pops.

 As the assault machine fell from the punishment, Pops delivered a kick to it which impacted its head assembly in a sickening crunch to any within earshot.

 This final act made the choice to run easy to make and the remaining enemy machines (a Phoenix Hawk, a Dervish and that Whitworth) took off, trusting in their machines’ speed to outrun the heavies of Alpha Company Third Battalion. In their haste to run, the trio failed to notice the presence of Bravo Company, Third Battalion… and this proved to be bad.

 Major Johnson’s troops stopped them cold, with their determination to bring them down equally as fierce as Alpha’s. Nothing survived their fury though there were survivors….

 The two Jenners that had bypassed the battle ran into the following Wolverine Scout company and discovered they were as fast or faster than them.  The fast light skirmisher machines were immediately hounded by Bremman’s troops, and they soon discovered that green Wolverine troops were quite capable at bringing them down…

  The infantry had moved up and took charge of the surviving enemy pilots everywhere, the jump troops using their mobility to rapidly arrive.  When Barry was notified, he gave the order to consolidate them, informing the infantry captain he’d be there shortly.

**

 Borton stopped his machine where Captain Jeremiah Malone stood with the surviving enemy pilots. As he popped the hatch to his cockpit, he reached over to grab his personal long arm, a bullpup Ceres Arms semi auto shotgun.  Wordlessly, he climbed out and down the ladder to the ground and walked over to the collection of prisoners, moving the shotgun from being slung over shoulder to his hands.

 “Major Borton,” Malone greeted him, noting the cross look upon the older man’s features. “This is who’d left among the survivors.” The captain indicated the seated men and women, five of them in various states of injury. One man looked still defiant and that one had an arm in a sling.

 “Captain…” Borton answered. “Any of them admit to being in charge?”

 A nod. “Sort of… That one- Major Johnson shot him from his Phoenix Hawk,” Malone answered as he pointed at the defiant looking one.

 “Good…” He replied as he shifted his hold on his shotgun. Stepping rapidly to the downed man, he stopped in front of him. “So, you were in charge of these guys, eh?” He asked, his face non-committal.

“I am merely their advisor and a purveyor of equipment, Major,” The man replied as he saw Borton’s rank pin. “I was with them as part of a field test of equipment, of which, some worked brilliantly and others not so much.” The man’s smile seemed to widen a little at the use of ‘brilliantly’…

 Barry frowned. “Oh really?” he replied as he thought, This mother fucker….

 A smile. “Yes. I had no part of their operations except as an Observer and to see how well provided assets worked. That’s all. I know the Laws and I have the right to send a message to my consulate on New Avalon.” A smirk. “As soon as an answer arrives, I am certain I will be leaving here…”

 The Major stared at him and commented. “A purveyor of Equipment, eh? Brilliantly functioning equipment, no less.” He paused as his face darkened. “Then I guess we know where the bombs came from then…”

“Eh?” the man replied and then realized he may have errored.

 Right then, Barry kicked out at the seated man and hit in the chest at the location of the break in the arm. Said kick caused extra pain and forced the man to fall over and as he fell over, Barry stuck the barrel of his shotgun against the middle of the prisoner’s chest.

 “Argh!” the man yelped in pain, choking it off when the barrel hit his chest.

“MAJOR!!” Malone exclaimed as several others also yelled in shock, some even drawing on the commander of the Task Force. No one shot as no one knew if this was real or posturing. Malone, for his part, knew the commander of the task force had a residence out near Brookstone and thought Borton was going to pull the trigger. While he couldn’t fault him, he knew it would be a Bad Idea…

“YOU!” Barry snarled as he stared down at the man, flicking the safety off his weapon. “You Gods be Damned sonovabitch!!! Give me one fucking good reason why I should not shoot you right now for those nukes?” He demanded. “One fucking good reason why I shouldn’t just kill you now and save everyone a damn trial?”

 The man stuttered, trying to give an answer that wouldn’t get him shot.  He was saved by the words of Borton’s exec, who had just arrived alongside Jethro.

 “Because it isn’t who you are, Barry…” Graf’s voice cut through the very tense silence of the moment. “It isn’t who you are, and it is not our way,” Walking over, he placed a hand on Barry’s shoulder. “Battlefield death is battlefield death… the moment he surrendered; he became our responsibility, not a target.”

“Graf’s right, Bear,” Jethro added as he held out a hand for the gun. “We don’t kill in cold blood, eh? Even if they prob’ly should be shot a bunch.”

 Barry stood there, shotgun still in the middle of the prisoner’s chest, his body tense. A long fifteen seconds passed before he pulled back from the prisoner.  Safety-ing his weapon, he lowered it and turned.  “Damnit,” he said. “You are right, Graf…. God as my witness, You are right.”

 Reaching out as he walked away, he handed his weapon over to Jethro. “Get this trash away from me… and hang on to this before I change my mind.”

**

The Knights Errant….

 The Knights’ engagement with the now-caught remaining Sword of Loki forces was almost as one-sided as the battle that Clearfield had.

As soon as they entered the combat area, the Knights took stock of their enemy and kept advancing. The eleven Knights marched forward and soon the two sides began to exchange weapons fire.

 A hit here, a hit there… then a fusillade of fire as the enemy forces came in range of more and more of Knights machines.  Early on, Chase’s Warhammer suffered a hit to the cockpit from the enemy Banshee, dropping him.  And that hit seemed to galvanize the Knights.

 From that point, the former Marik troops began to rain death upon the cornered enemy.  First to go was one of the Chameleons, an ammunition bin loaded with MG ordinance destroyed with a thru-armor strike.

 Then a Hellspawn suffered a crippling attack as Sir Erec’s LRMs were given a target from Pellinore’s spotting.

 The enemy Banshee attempted to single out Kahlid and discovered its what the Knight Captain was waiting for as every available weapon turned on the enemy assault mech. The sheer volume of fire ravaged it, stripping armor off as if it was tree bark.

 Within minutes, it collapsed from the punishment though remaining defiant on its way down.

 Another Chameleon attempted to get at Erec in his Longbow and was rewarded with Breunor in his Trebuchet and Lady Traci in her Tempest hounding him, eventually dropping him with gauss rifle and LRM impacts.

 Before long, the last of the Swords, a Hellspawn and a lucky-to-be-alive Chaemleon made a break for it… And they had a real chance of it too, as they were both faster than the bulk of the Knights.  But not all, as Carlotta in her Enforcer, Morganna in the Exterminator and Pellinore in her Spider took off after them.

 Margo and Kahlid attempted to get after them but only managed to send particle fire their way.  And it was a nice parting gift to give, as it aided in slowing the retreating enemy down.

 Pellinore and Morganna had the best chance of catching the two and they used their speed to advantage.

 The Spider pilot floored it past the retreating Swords machines and doubled back, coming up on a Chameleon from the side and swung both of her mech’s fists even as she cut loose with medium pulse lasers. Both fists connected with her opponent, one slamming an arm and the other its head assembly.

 The Chameleon pilot was rocked in his cockpit hard and hit his head on a console. Having taken a hit earlier in the fight, it proved to be too much for him, and he passed out from the impact.

 The Hellspawn, attempting to run, took a hit from Margo at a distance, the ER PPC from the Thug connecting with the lighter mech and hammering its insides. This opened it up for Morganna to trigger her quartet of mediums from her Exterminator, finishing the job that the particle cannon had started.

 As both machines fell to the ground, Kahlid called across the network. ”BEAUSEANT!”

In reply, the rest of the Knights called out “BEAUSEANT!”