FSML-2 Chpt 1

=Chapter 1=
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==Frederick Steiner and the Man Who Knew Too Little==
Book 2
“An educated people can be easily governed.”- Frederick the Great
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===Chit-Chat with a Cousin===
St Cameron, Denebola V
Federation of Skye, Lyran Commonwealth
25th June, 3015
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Frederick backed his Zeus into the ‘mech bay and saw an amazonian blonde leaning on the gantry, waiting for him. Unfortunately, she was his cousin, not a girlfriend he could introduce to Donna.
With a sigh, the general unstrapped. He was forty-three now, almost as old as Max had been when they met. He figured he was still in better shape than his secretary had been, but he had more appreciation now than he had had at the time of what ten years meant in terms of aging. Climbing up onto the seat, the man opened the hatch above him and climbed up out of the cockpit.
“What the hell have you done to your Zeus?!” Nondi Steiner called with her usual directness.
He caught hold of the gantry and pulled himself onto it. “Isn’t it great?”
“It’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen!”
“Philistine!” Frederick turned and admired the somewhat vulpine head mounted where normally the large canopy would have covered his cockpit. “This is Doctor Banzai’s brainchild and it works brilliantly.”
Nondi shook her head. “I know you got shot out of your ‘mech on Uhuru, but I think this is over-reacting. They call you ‘Fred-eject’ back at Mount Asgard.”
He glowered at her and rubbed the scar above his right eye. “You’d be laughing out of the other side of your face if your canopy didn’t break up properly when you needed it to. Or if you ejected and some Kuritan maniac decided your parachute was a target worth shooting at.”
Uhuru had been a victory, but not a clean one. The FWLM had apparently not forgiven Helm and at least seven Mechwarriors had made spirited attempts to kill him even if it cost them their lives. Five of them had paid that price for nothing, the other two lost their ‘mechs (which was about as bad in some eyes) and would be spending time in a prison camp until a ransom was agreed. One of the last two had managed to hit the almost empty autocannon magazine of the Zeus, and Frederick had erred on the side of caution.
At least this time it hadn’t gone wrong; but with repairs to the Zeus needed anyway, it was a good chance to test installing the full-head ejection system.
Nondi shook her head. “I’ve never had to eject. Some of us are competent, you see.”
“There’s a first time for everything.” Frederick patted the head of his ‘mech reassuringly.
“Can you even see out of that?”
“It has all the usual sensors and some viewing ports. It works just fine as a cockpit and it could save a lot of lives.”
“Worth doing,” his cousin allowed, grudgingly. “I still think ‘Fred-eject’ is going to stick though. ‘The Hammer’ is just a bit too generic, even if your love affair with artillery has clearly not run its course.”
The two of them descended from the gantries and Frederick ran through the basic hand-off to the technical crew. It had just been a practice run so there was no need for any repairs, but the dread gods of paperwork still had to be appeased.
“So what brings you here?” he asked as they left the hangars. “Is Katrina still using you as her strong right hand?”
“I’m here to choke you out,” Nondi deadpanned. “But that can wait until we’re in your office. I take it your boy-toy is still haunting it, but you don’t have to run him off for this.”
Frederick glowered at her. “You and Donna gossip far too much.”
“I don’t have any idea what you mean. I’m just glad you’re in a stable relationship. The two widows in our generation can be too damn depressing.”
He shook his head in annoyance. “Anyway, Max isn’t even on Denebola right now. There was some business stacking up on Duran and I was finishing things off here, so I sent him to take care of things. They know he speaks with my voice on that sort of thing.”
“More of your business ventures?”
“Something like that.” He opened the door to his office and ushered Nondi inside. The office had belonged to the commander of the Marik forces on the planet and the shape of an eagle was still visible on one wall - a large Marik-eagle plaque had been removed but a new coat of paint could wait. The Lyran flag covered most of it, and was statement enough in Frederick’s opinion.
Max was actually going to be dealing with some issues at Duran A&M. The school was expanding both the agricultural and mechanical classes - the latter had more immediately applicable military applications but the former would be getting some more data from the Helm cache to push it to the front of terraforming technology. There were a lot of marginal worlds in the Commonwealth, particularly along the old Rim Worlds Republic border, that had once been thriving and if that could be brought back then the economic might of the Lyrans would be boosted further. Given it was the depth of their strength, Frederick approved of the idea but Max was definitely going to be better at sweet-talking people on the topic than he was.
Rather than go to his desk, Frederick pointed his cousin to one of the rather battered armchairs that had come with the office and set the coffee machine to prepare them both a cup. A moment later he had a full mug for himself and a slightly less full one for her. Opening a cabinet, Frederick finished hers with a finger of whiskey, just the way she liked it.
“Hospitable.” Nondi noted, accepting the mug.
“I try. Buttering up important relatives is a Lyran tradition.”, he said to her.
She snorted. “So did you find a hidden cache while you were here?”
“I don’t actually find one every time I turn around.” he said and sipped on his own mug of black blood of the earth.
Nondi snapped her fingers. “Damn, I guess I owe Hermann three hundred kroner.”
“You realize that was a win-win situation for him? If you won, he was out three hundred kroner and the Commonwealth gets some lostech.”
“Yes, but I’m not as selfless as Hermann. We all know this.”
“We really do.”, he said
Nondi glared at him. “Anyway, the reason I’m here is to warn you off from committing to any new campaigns. Katrina is happy with how you’re taking advantage of the Marik Civil War to clear up hotspots along the border but it looks like Anton is on the backfoot now, so Janos will have the resources to respond in more force.”
He nodded. “That’s about my take. I’m more concerned at the moment that if Anton’s forces collapse, Janos may have them ‘redeem themselves’ by going after us in revenge for his recent defeats.”
His cousin wasn’t as hypocritical as some of the Estates General who were complaining that Frederick’s activities would provoke exactly that. If history showed anything, then it was that neither House Marik nor House Kurita required any provocation in order to attack the Lyran Commonwealth. But studying history wasn’t high in the priorities of most members of that illustrious body.
“As long as we’re on the same page.” she agreed. “We’ve done well out of this, but now we need to consolidate those gains so we don’t lose them. The Dracs are smarting too after the way Davion pushed them off Mallory’s World, so they might hit us just to make themselves feel like winners again.”
“Whiners, more like.” He sipped more coffee. “It’s also possible Marik might attack the Capellans. Taking revenge for them backing Anton would be a useful rallying cry. But unfortunately, that would make Duchess Humphreys happy and Janos has a bad track record for pleasing her.”
“He hasn’t dropped dead.” Nondi took a large gulp from her mug. “For about thirty percent of the Free Worlds League that’s about the only thing that a Captain-General can do to please them.”
“If he had, we might be dealing with Anton on the Captain-General’s throne and a Capellan-League detente.” he pointed out. “Another reason I’ve been focusing on just clearing up existing conflicts rather than starting new ones.”
“Well, with Anton’s push on New Olympia crushed and the Dragoons failing to knock out the loyalist forces on Calloway VI, LIC is pretty sure that we’ve got at best another year before the Mariks are back on balance.”
Frederick considered what Max had told him. “So, how many kroner would you put up against Anton doing something stupid that cuts that to less than four months?”
Nondi frowned at him. “If you were just saying a Marik doing something stupid, then not many kroner. But four months? That’s a bit optimistic. He’s still got a strong force on Tiber and then there’s his strongholds in the Protectorate…”
“Three hundred kroner says that Anton’s forces collapse completely by the end of June.”
She scowled. “No poking at him to make it happen, Frederick.”
“I’m not going to start hitting them that deep.” he promised. “Maybe a couple of little raids to finish shaking out the issues I have with the Tenth and Eleventh Regulars, but that’ll be on Janos’ loyalists.”
“Okay, it’s a deal.” She shook his hand. “And you might want to think about getting married soon - word is that another eligible bachelor is hooking up, so your pool of prospects is drying up.”
“There are something like a trillion people in the Inner Sphere.” he retorted. “I don’t think the First Prince’s little brother hooking up with a Colonel measurably affects my chances of getting married. Although he could do worse.”
Colonel Dana Stephenson of the Thirty-Fourth Avalon Hussars was at least in the same age bracket as Hanse Davion. Much better than him marrying a girl young enough to be his daughter, in Frederick’s not-so-humble opinion.
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===A Job Offer===
Sweethaven, Second Chance
Oriente Military District, Free Worlds League
1st May, 3015
Jaime Wolf cracked the seal on a bottle, then poured the contents more or less evenly into five glasses. With the bottle empty he handed the glasses out to the other four around the table. “A toast,” he offered. “Anton Marik.”
Jeremy Ellman, Wilhelmina Korsht and Sarah Weisz looked at him incredulously. Harold Jones stopped lifting the glass and seemed more inclined to spit.
The commander of the Wolf's Dragoons smiled wryly. “May he rot in hell.”
“Founder, I thought you’d gone insane for a moment.” Jones sipped the contents of his glass and the others followed suit. The liquor burned at Jaime’s throat - it wasn’t smooth, but it was the last of several bottles brought from the homeworlds long ago. A taste of home. A taste of the past.
Lowering his empty glass, he folded his hands in front of him. “I didn’t just call you here so that I wasn’t drinking alone.” Taking refuge in a bottle had been tempting over the last few weeks but Joshua would have been disappointed in him… and Ellen would have kicked his ass as well. “We’ve had a message.”
“Janos Marik demanding our surrender?” asked Korsht.
He shook his head. “Frederick Steiner is making us an offer.”
Ellman frowned. “Frederick Steiner? Not Katrina?”
Jaime shook his head again.
“Dammit,” Jones muttered. “Another civil war? We know how this one went.”
“Not a civil war.” He had probably strung them along far enough. “It’s not a contract, formally. Just an offer. But he does specify that we’re very specifically not to fight against the LCAF except in self-defense.”
“He could be wanting us to watch a border while he uses his own troops to try for his cousin’s throne.” speculated Ellman thoughtfully. “Although it’s not as likely.”
“Why do you think it’s a civil war?” Weisz looked at her colleagues questioningly.
“Hello? A House Lord’s cousin wants to hire us rather than one of the House Lords? Do you remember what we’ve been doing for the last year or so?”
“I do,” she said stiffly to Jones. “But I don’t remember what Frederick Steiner is offering us, because we keep interrupting Colonel Wolf before he can tell us.”
“A fair point,” Ellman agreed. “Jaime?”
“The proposed contract is essentially what Ian Davion offered us ten years ago.” the colonel of Alpha Regiment informed them. “Given the casualties we’ve suffered, that’s fairly generous. Five years, which is the only thing in the offer besides not fighting the LCAF that isn’t open to negotiation. If we want to fight Marik again, he’s fine with that. If we insist on not fighting them, as per our usual practise, he’s more than happy to send us against the Kuritans.”
“Win-win for him. Isn’t he mostly focused on fighting the League though?” asked Korsht. “New Dallas, Helm, Uhuru, most recently Denebola…”
“He also led a raiding campaign against Dieron District.” Jaime pointed out. “He’s an aggressive and competent commander… but he’s also not part of the Lyran mercenary liaison department. So it’s odd for him to be making an offer.”
“Commander of the Lyran Regulars,” mused Jones. “Not exactly the best the Lyrans have.”
“Not historically.” Weisz frowned. “But they did include a number of former SLDF soldiers during the First Succession War. And Steiner… this Steiner… has been building them up as combined arms operators. They may not be the best supplied Lyran units, but they’re right on the cutting edge of their modern doctrine.”
“A doctrine that’s been giving the LCAF a much needed kick to the rear.” agreed Jaime quietly. “Katrina Steiner seems intent on reforms after two generations of poor leadership, and while there are rumors of Frederick having ambitions for the Archon’s throne, his actions have broadly supported her in that.” He took a deep breath. “And then there’s the other part of the offer. One we may need.”
Ellman tilted his head quizzically. “What’s he offering?”
“Three of the Lyran’s second- and third-string manufacturers are offering to give us priority for new ‘Mechs and other equipment if we help them the way we did Blackwell.”
The other four all looked at him dubiously.
“Do we really want to do that?” asked Jones. “It’s building them up when…” He shrugged and said no more.
“What’s our alternative?” Korsht picked up her glass and drained what was left in it. “Another supply run? Or we rely on salvage - which is chancy.”
Ellman nodded. “Who would we be dealing with?”
“Bowie Industries. Blue Shot Weaponry and Olivetti. As I said, not exactly the major suppliers. But for that reason, probably easier to work with than Defiance would be.”
“We can get parts from Blackwell.” Korsht mused. “Enough to repair our damaged ‘mechs, once we consider Hephastus’ production. But new ‘Mechs are another matter.”
“It is a tempting offer,” Weisz agreed. “And we were always planning to take service with the Lyrans eventually.”
“That was supposed to be after we fought them on behalf of the Mariks and look how that went.”
There was a grim silence after Jones’ words. Jaime took the time to refill their glasses, finishing off the bottle. There were only a few drops left by the time he got to his own, but that was fine.
“Let’s face it,” Ellman said at last. “fighting for one Marik against another wasn’t exactly the original plan either. We have to adapt and working for the Steiners against the Kuritas means we’ll have some experience with both of them. And a five year schedule would take us up to the next expected supply run so we can kick the decision of what to do after that up to the Khan.”
Jaime nodded in agreement. “I don’t think we can expect Janos Marik to offer us a contract against the Lyrans. Snord’s told us already what he’s like with grudges so this is our next best bet.”
Korsht made a face. “We already have his data on fighting for the Steiners. We could see if Davion or Kurita want us.”
“Davion would be backtracking,” pointed out Jones. “And the Dracs have a reputation for taking advantage. We’re going to have to work with them sooner or later, but signing up with them right after we take heavy losses is asking for trouble.”
“That is rumors.” she disagreed.
“Consistent rumors, from just about every unit we have talked to.” Jaime pointed out. “Harold is right. We will have to deal with the Dragon sooner or later, but I would prefer it was from a position of strength.”
“And the Steiners are better? There was that scandal with the pay for the Twelfth Star Guards recently…”
Weisz nodded but what she said was: “And the Steiners were the ones to admit it and offer surkai. Their leaders acted with honor. I can think of Clans that would have hidden the crime.”
“Whatever else happens, standing and fighting here was only a plan until we found a way out.” Jaime drained the drops of alcohol in his glass and set it down sharply on the table. “We cannot hold off the entire Free Worlds League. And now that we have somewhere we can go…”
“I don’t think anyone will be sad to leave the Mariks behind us,” Ellman said deliberately. “And while the Captain-General may be angry at us for serving Anton Marik, we also killed him. Both sides will be glad to see the back of us.”
“Does anyone else dissent?”
“It’s an offer, not a contract.” Korsht pointed out. “If negotiations fall through, we’ll be in Lyran space.”
“In that case we make for Galatea and set up shop.” Jaime told her. “The Lyrans benefit far too much from the hiring hub there to violate the neutrality of an uncontracted mercenary unit. For now, I propose to accept the invitation to meet Duke Frederick and talk over his offer. If it’s a good deal, one that doesn’t drag us into another civil war, we’ll take it and see what Kerlin Ward or his successor have to say in five years. Do I hear any dissent?”
He glanced around the room, meeting the eyes of each of the other four colonels in turn. They all met his eyes and one at a time they yielded, even Korsht.
“Then we have a plan.” the leader of the Dragoons concluded. “Get your people to start loading - but keep the combat troops for last. We’re several jumps away from Lyran space and just because Marik wants shot of us doesn’t mean he’ll be glad to see us taking up a contract with one of his enemies.”
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===Meeting in Space===
Nadir Jump Point, Wasat
Oriente Military District, Free Worlds League
7th May, 3015
Right on the border with the Capellan Confederation, Wasat was a well fortified border world. Once part of the Terran Hegemony it still had a respectable industrial base when it fell into the Free Worlds League’s hands as the Star League fell and even the fighting since then hadn’t destroyed that.
But even so it was unusual for one of its major jump points to see dozens of jumpships and scores of military dropships arrive. Alarms were probably sounding in command centers down on the planet, Frederick thought.
They didn’t really need to worry, he thought as he crossed through the cramped airlock linking the barely more spacious shuttle to his destination, the Overlord-class dropship Chieftain. Almost a hundred meters tall and massing close to ten thousand tons, the command dropship was only one of several similar dropships in the Wolf's Dragoons fleet.
In contrast, Frederick had arrived with only three smaller dropships - a Fortress-class to carry the actual raiding force, a converted Union-class dropship for the aerospace force, and a Condor-class ship to serve as a command post for him as the detachment of the the Eleventh Lyran Regulars hit Wasat’s spaceport. The shipment of industrial-grade electronics would be valuable, but the real prize would be giving the combined-arms battalion a chance to show that they could work together.
A tall officer in the dress uniform of the Wolf's Dragoons was waiting for Frederick inside. “General Steiner.” He saluted. “I’m Captain Cameron. Colonel Wolf is waiting for you.”
He returned the salute. “I hope you’ve not been waiting long.” He’d hoped to arrive before the Dragoons, but as it happened the flotilla had arrived before him.
“No sir, we’d barely finished unfurling the jumpsails when your jumpship was picked up.” Cameron guided him into the ship, the non-standard layout reflecting the replacement of several ‘mech bays with additional crew quarters and a sizable command center. “You gave our aerospace crews a chance to show off how fast they could scramble.”
“Just don’t bill me for the fuel.”, Frederick Commented
The reply was a polite laugh, before Cameron opened the door to what was clearly the main tactical operations center for the Dragoons - perhaps even a strategic operations center. An impressive holotank in the center displayed Wasat, the jump point and what was probably all the space traffic between. Frederick could see markers for his own force, with a very good estimate of what was aboard the Fortress as it burned towards Wasat.
There were five people around the table, two women and three men. All wore the uniform and rank tabs of Wolf's Dragoons Colonels and rather than directing Frederick further, Captain Cameron - William Cameron, Wolf’s communications specialist - discreetly stepped away towards a side-console.
This game then. Jaime Wolf’s face was not known widely, he made no public appearances and avoided cameras. Only those who had already met him were likely to be able to identify him on sight. As he’d never visited the Lyran Commonwealth, LCAF had no records to help identify him and if LIC had any images then they hadn’t shared them. Even his gender was officially listed as unconfirmed.
Max had cleared that up, and also warned Frederick that he would likely be tested: left to identify which of the five led the Dragoons’ and their Alpha regiment. Games of status seemed to be universal among humankind, this differed somewhat from those he was used to.
Stepping up to the holotable after as much polite delay to look around the room as he could get away with, Frederick looked at the shortest of the three men - the beard made it hard to guess but if he wasn’t also the youngest of the five there couldn’t be much in it. “Colonel Wolf, I presume.”
Jaime Wolf’s lips curled slightly. “You presume correctly. Was that a guess, general? Or did LIC manage to penetrate our security?”
Rather than directly reply, Frederick simply extended his hand. “You are in command here.” I’m not entirely a blunt instrument.
Wolf nodded in concession of the point. “Thank you. I don’t lead the Dragoons alone, of course. You’ve met Captain Cameron, but let me introduce you to my fellow regimental commanders. This is Colonel Jeremy Ellman of Beta Regiment.” The oldest of the five, most likely. Although fatigue might be aging him unfairly.
“Colonel Wilhelmina Korsht of Gamma Regiment.” The younger of the two women and she gave Frederick a challenging look as they shook hands.
“Colonel Sarah Weisz of Delta Regiment.” A clever one, Frederick thought. Snap judgements could be flawed, but that was what he took from the way she looked at him.
“And last but not least, Colonel Harold Jones of Epsilon Regiment.” The man looked like a charmer, but he had an edge to him that suggested he was aggressive as well.
Jones proved the latter by asking immediately: “You understand we’re concerned about being hired by a Duke rather than hearing directly from the Archon, given how Anton Marik treated us.”
“I haven’t heard directly how he behaved,” Frederick replied. “but you may rest assured I’m not hiring you for any insurrection.”
“Then why are we hearing from you and not from the Archon?” asked Korsht bluntly.
He could deal with bluntness. It was a relief, really. “It’s a matter of distance. News of Anton’s death reached me across the border and I wanted to get the offer in right away, not wait for the news to get to Tharkad and wait for orders to come back.”
She frowned. “Wait, you mean she hasn’t authorized this?”
“I have a lot of discretion.”, he told them.
Ellman folded his arms. “And if she decides not to hire us?”
“Well, first I’ll ask her sister to make sure she’s not been replaced, because my cousin is not stupid.” He shrugged. “And if so then I’ll hire you on my own pfennig.”
“That’s not cheap.”
He gave Korsht an amused look. “I’m not just any duke, Colonel. I’d prefer you were hired through LCAF, because that reduces the perfectly understandable questions about who you answer to. But if I need to find the cash then I will do so. The Wolf's Dragoons are worth it.”
The compliment carried weight and she backed down, but Colonel Wolf was less impressed. “I would also prefer that any contract be agreed through your Mercenary Troops Liaison.” He paused until Frederick nodded in agreement, before continuing: “Although there’s no harm in carrying out some negotiations while we travel to the Commonwealth.”
“Of course not.” Frederick reached over and indicated the icon in the holotank that represented his Condor. “By the way, I understand you’re coming off a combat campaign, so I brought a hospital dropship with me. I’m not slighting your medical capabilities, but in my experience there’s no such thing as having too many doctors and medical supplies. Their services are at your disposal, starting now, whatever you ultimately decide.”
There were looks exchanged among the five colonels and then Wolf turned to Cameron. “William, get our doctors in touch with General Steiner’s. You know what to do.”
The junior officer saluted sharply. He touched an earpiece he’d already been wearing discreetly and began speaking quietly, giving efficient instructions.
Frederick watched for a moment and then nodded in approval.
When he looked back at the colonels, Jaime Wolf smiled thinly. “The Dragoons have a lot of strengths, but our people are the most important. No poaching, General.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. Which isn’t to say I might not have some people taking notes. That is one of the things I’d like to do.” He paused, “I should ask: your response suggested that you are requesting that you not be deployed against the Free Worlds League?”
“That is a condition of our contracting.” Wolf confirmed.
“That’s fine. In that case, as I understand you’ll need some time to work up to full strength operations, what I’m proposing is that we deploy your regiments in a training role for the first year or so. There are a fair number of regiments that I think would benefit from some competition to shake them up. We’d have to work out the details, but Katrina wants to reform some LCAF practices, so I think she’d go for that.”
“That might be alright in the short term,” Jones observed, “But we’ve already had issues with House Liao keeping us on garrison duties. Using five of the best regiments in the Inner Sphere for training cadre duty is going to leave us a lot of idle hands.”
Frederick smiled. “I’m talking about the first year. Time to get your people and equipment back in shape, and for us to get used to working together. There’s a reason I told you that I wanted the contract to be at least five years long. I may need that first year to talk the high command around on what I have in mind…”
The Dragoons’ smiles were appropriately wolfish at the hint of something grand and challenging. Hooked them, Frederick thought.
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