GblaRCS Chpt 62

==Guided by the light of a (Red) Cameron Star - Chapter 62 -==
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"What do you expect me to do? Administer garlic oil to the wound? Inject you with 25CC's of Holy Water?"Surgeon-Major Ellen Jansen to an SLDF corporal who had been bitten by the Lady Arabella Von Strang - 2844CE
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===Handing the Prisoners of War===
Amaris City – Von Strang's World – 2844
According to both the patch on his uniform and his off-world-deployment-only set of dogtags his name was Colonel John Mübarek, but that still didn't stop the young private who had been sent to fetch him from the Command Post accidentally calling him Colonel Benedict. This naturally earned them a stern reprimand from the colonel himself and a mouthful of invective from the nearest NCO afterwards for their trouble. Fortunately nobody not from Niops was present in the temporary CP on the edge of town at the time, so the slip-up didn't really matter, but it was security breaches like that which could potentially bring the wrath of Nicholas Kerensky down on their heads.
Looking out into the large amphitheatre that was being used as both a temporary POW holding area and an impromptu medical center the colonel took a deep breath before raising the electronic loudhailer to his lips. "LISTEN UP YOU ****** INGRATES" he bellowed, his amplified voice echoing off every surface as every prisoner turned in his direction. "AS YOU HAVE ALREADY BEEN TOLD FOOD AND WATER IS ON THE WAY AND ALL YOUR INJURED AND WOUNDED WILL BE TREATED AS SOON AS THE MOST URGENT CASES ARE STABILIZED. IF THERE IS ANY REPEAT OF THE DISORDER EARLIER DURING WHICH ONE OF MY SOLDIERS WAS INJURED I WILL HAVE THE RINGLEADERS SHOT AND THE WHOLE DAMN LOT OF YOU TEAR-GASSED. NOW SIT DOWN, SHUT UP, AND WAIT YOUR TURN TO BE PROCESSED WHILE THANKING YOUR LUCKY STARS THAT THE NIOPS ASSOCIATION ABIDES BY THE TERMS OF THE ARES CONVENTIONS AS REGARDS TREATMENT OF PRISONERS OF WAR."
Whether it was his words that got the POW's to settle down, or that fact he had arrived with a lance of Battlemechs which now loomed menacingly nearby, the previously rambunctious prisoners did as they were told enabling the medical triage teams to get back to work prioritizing who the doctors should see next.
Given the cultural leanings of the Rim Worlds Republic, the city possessing a large stone amphitheater that wouldn't have looked out-of-place in Ancient Greece wasn't as surprising as the fact that the Von Strang's apparently used to have comedies and dramatic plays performed there for the masses instead of gladiatorial combat but regardless of what it was used for normally it had made for a useful place to temporarily dump thousands of prisoners as they were swept up.
Benedict threw the megaphone to the nearest SLDF officer in his immediate vicinity. "We shouldn't have told them that we weren't going to summarily execute any of them or sell them into slavery" he opined. "Play nice and they'll take liberties every time" he complained, looking around and noting the armed SLDF infantry ringing the outside of the amphitheater and guarding the exits. "At least this place is easy to contain and there's enough toilet facilities for this many people" he noted. Failing to take account of the latter wasn't just unhygienic it was also hell on prisoner discipline and morale.
"General Franklin left orders that we weren't to shoot-to-kill unless we faced a full-scale revolt by the prisoners." the officer who Benedict threw the loudhailer to noted quietly.
"I never said to kill the ringleaders if they act up again, just kneecap a few and it'll encourage the rest to behave." Benedict replied, wishing that the Khan had not left him in charge while he toured the city. "The Ares Conventions don't prohibit the use of force to keep POW's in line, they just frown upon putting them all up against a wall if they won't do as they're told."
Technically, the Ares Conventions had not been in force since the Star League rescinded them at the start of the Reunification War, the High Council collectively agreeing that if they fought with one hand tied behind their back then bringing the periphery nations to heel would take forever, but despite their lack of legal authority they had continued to exert a certain moral one. In simplistic terms how much a state chose to still adhere to the principles contained within the Conventions had become a shorthand in many ways for how 'good' or 'bad' they were within the broader public consciousness of the Inner Sphere.
At one extreme the Federated Suns was very fond of planting themselves squarely on the moral high ground, pontificating on the innate and inviolable rights of man to the point of being nigh insufferable, and as such they usually played more than lip service to following the basis tenets of the Ares Conventions whenever it was practical to do so.
Meanwhile, at the other end of the spectrum, those inclined towards the darkly humorous maintained that the copy of the Ares Conventions that the Capellan Confederation used must have been badly translated into Mandarin because sometimes it honestly seemed like they thought it was a to-do list rather than a list of prohibited actions.
That was probably unfair, although they did always seem to be the one most willing to ignore Article VI, particularly the part that said that developing and deploying bioweapons was strictly verboten and which most other powers tended to still take somewhat seriously.
Throwing around nukes like they were on sale was one thing, unleashing genetically engineered plagues was still largely frowned upon even in the darkest days of the late 28th and 29th Century. Even ignoring the moral issue, the possibility that opening that particular Pandora's Box could easily come back and bite you on the ass later on if it spread and/or mutated stayed a few hands.
If you wanted to depopulate an area then nerve gas, or even cobalt bombs if you wanted it to stay depopulated, were a considerably saner option.
The one part of the Conventions that most everyone did still tend to stick to was the handling of Prisoners of War, though not necessarily for moral, altruistic reasons. Summary execution of prisoners, or their mistreatment generally, might seem like a way to look tough, or intimidate your foe, but ultimately it was an objectively self-defeating tactic. You wanted to encourage enemy troops to surrender, not to fight to the death trying to take you with them as a final act of defiance, so unless you were an idiot, or some kind of ideological purist that thought mercy was for the weak and capitulation was dishonorable to the point seppuku was preferable, you would offer generous terms of surrender and then stick to them.
"The docs say that we're going to run short on blood plasma, there wasn't nearly as much in cold storage in the city hospital as expected and our own stocks are limited" another soldier informed Benedict. "We're mostly okay on other medical supplies though, friendly casualties were on the low end of estimates so we're able to spare some of our own stocks for wounded POW's."
Benedict nodded. "We're still prioritizing the treatment of friendlies I hope?" he checked. That had been the order but sometimes the army medical personnel got it into their heads that the Hippocratic Oath trumped their Oath of Allegiance to the Star League."
"Yeah, we carted our most severe cases to the Intruder dropships belonging to the Blackhearts. The operating theaters there are better than anything the local hospital has."
"Probably a lot more sterile too" Benedict observed. "There been any more trouble with the local doctors we drafted in to help with casualties?"
"Not since Doc Jansen laid down the law that we wouldn't be euthanizing the most seriously injured or those missing limbs just because they would be a 'burden on society' if they lived."
"Wish I'd been here to see that" Benedict responded. According to the report that arrived at the Command Post earlier regarding the incident the somewhat petite Surgeon-Major Jansen of the SLDF Medical Corps had slugged a local medic who had been in the process of injecting a POW with both legs blown off with an overdose of morphine. Apparently that was just how they usually did things here, at least for the peasant underclass, farm laborers missing limbs weren't very productive, but Jansen saw things a little differently.
Those with wealth and high status received a somewhat higher standard of care needless to say, not that even the Baron himself had access to the kind of advanced medical technology available to the SLDF. Any of their own casualties, or their mercenary allies who were missing limbs or organs following the fighting could expect to have them reinstated by cloned or cybernetic replacements once they were back in the Hegemony, and those with severe burns might eventually end up better looking than they before because the plastic surgeons back home might well decide to correct a few aesthetic flaws while they had you under the knife.
When the SLDF MASH units in their armored ambulances had rolled in and started setting up to treat the wounded of both sides a couple of the local doctors drafted in from the city hospital had been frankly amazed by the quality of the equipment they had.
Conducting triage when you have a big eight-wheeled all-terrain truck with a half-dozen Eligus Medical Diagnosers in the back, not to mention two others each with a full operating theater in there, was not how field medicine was usually conducted, certainly not post the Golden Age of the Star League.
It sounded bad in a certain light but the sheer lethality of many of the weapons the SLDF had employed had helped the casualty situation somewhat anyway. The ratio of dead-to-wounded was lower than it might have been if not for the considerable overkill of often hitting relatively small bunkers with large aerial bombs, Arrow IV missiles or AC/20 cannon. What was left of the occupants was often more suitable for being removed from the scene in a bucket not a stretcher.
Benedict looked around making sure that only Niops personnel were in ear-shot. "If we're short on blood just start siphoning all the Ironborn goofing off in the park once they've finished pulling down the statue of Stefan Amaris for the cameras, they're all healthy and Blood Group O Negative" he whispered. "If any of them don't want to tell them it's a direct order."
"They're all O Neg?"
"Making them all universal donors was about the least their DNA was meddled with." Benedict replied. "If we still need more blood after that we'll start draining everyone else as necessary, I'm A Positive myself so if the docs need some of that later I'll donate first. Set an example" he said, knowing that was what a commanding officer should do.
When General Romanov finally retired, and Khan Hallis was bumped up a rank to take her place as Head of the Joint Chiefs, Jax Benedict was expected by many, including himself, to be promoted to Brigadier-General and be the one that got to command the expeditionary brigade. As such when Hallis put him in charge of cleaning up the mess while he went to inspect the palace Benedict assumed this was because as a general he would have to deal with more of the boring stuff so the khan was seeing how well he would handle it.
Benedict was a field officer not a desk jockey, one generally considered strict to the point of being a martinet, but even those who disliked him personally, a group he knew included the saKhan herself, never tried to argue he wasn't a good tactician. They thought he was an obnoxious, humorless jerk at times, and for his part he considered saKhan Ebon 'flighty' and thought she lacked gravitas, but point him at an objective, and give him a battalion or a regiment to take it, and he would.
Serving under Colonel Benedict was not fun, if you wanted a relaxed command style try and get yourself transferred to Colonel Callahan's unit, he was personable, but Benedict undeniably got results and unlike Callahan he wanted promotion figuring that if he couldn't be saKhan he could at least outrank Ebon in another way.
Benedict knew that the Khan hadn't left him in charge because the man had sloping shoulders and liked to slide his work off on others, Hallis hated delegating, he was put in charge while the Khan got on with other business because he was testing how he coped with the other business of command, the stuff that wasn't all fun, yelling orders and stomping around in battlemechs.
At least the civilian population hadn't been causing any trouble, likely because they were well used to being told what to do and expected dire consequences if they disobeyed the instructions they had been given to stay at home. Once everything was running more smoothly the curfew could be lifted, there were already welfare teams rolling around making sure nobody was at risk of going hungry in the interim, but having tanks and mechs on the streets certainly helped keep order.
Other than a few disgruntled POW's that just wanted to take off their uniforms and go home causing some commotion earlier, they must have realized that the SLDF troops guarding them weren't trigger happy and honestly preferred not to shoot anybody if they didn't have to, the rank-and-file prisoners had been fairly docile. A few of the officers, particularly the more self-important and entitled ones with 'noble' lineage, had made a fuss when they were initially placed right alongside the private soldiers and NCO's, but once they were assigned their own rows of seats a short distance away from the other ranks they had mostly stopped complaining.
At some point Benedict wondered if they might have a problem with angry peasants wanting to settle scores with their former overlords once they realized the old order was gone for good, but with luck the Khan would have finished his tour by then and he could handle the politics. Hallis had been a political as well as a military leader and he had proven more capable at both than Benedict had expected when Khan McEvedy appointed him her replacement saKhan so many years ago.
Frankly if the oppressed 'laborer caste' of Erin, Benedict refused to call the planet 'Von Strang's World' on principle, wanted to construct a guillotine and exact a little justice that was fine by him, although he knew the government back home would make a fuss if the SLDF turned a blind eye to such proceedings. He knew his Terran born parents who had fought against Amaris would be happy with him for helping rid the galaxy of some of the last remnants of the usurper, and he also knew that the clans back home would approve too, unless they found out who it was actually conducting this operation anyway.
Putting such ancient history aside and looking to the future, thanks to the SLDF losses of men and material being so low it was almost certain that the Khan would approve going ahead with Operation Simon Says, they were already so close to the objective, had the capability to conduct the raid to hand and it might be decades before they were in a position to do so again. If so it was likely Benedict would get to command the operation, albeit it in close cooperation with the navy, and that was the sort of opportunity that would really help him stand out from the crowd.
It certainly sounded like a lot more fun than getting pulled into the diplomatic negotiations with Paran would be. It seemed that since the last time the SLDF was operating in this region the former Star League Expeditionary Brigade personnel there had gotten together with the various groups there and cobbled together a functioning government, which could be a good or a bad thing but either way it changed the equation. If this 'Paran Free System' was better predisposed towards the Star League now than before, thanks to the crew of the SLS Pioneer helping them fight off what seemed to have been a full-scale pirate invasion a few years back, potentially this could be great news but it would all need to be handled carefully.
Bribing them with diamonds from the Erin mines to take in refugees was always an option if it came to that, though how many people might want to emigrate was still a complete unknown at this point.
As he looked over the improved POW camp, happy to see that the first trucks bringing more food and water were starting to arrive, Colonel Jax Benedict, AKA 'John Mübarek' noted a small squad from the Blackhearts arriving, escorting a single prisoner. As he watched them cut him loose, pointing him towards where the officer prisoners were seated a few of the other ranks sat nearby seemed to spot him and after a few seconds a whole bunch of them stood up and faced him.
The lone prisoner stopped as a couple of dozen local militia snapped to attention in place and saluted him, something they hadn't done for any of the other officer prisoners.
"Who the hell is that?" Benedict asked.
"I think that's the enemy officer that stayed on the hill and continued to call in artillery after ordering his men to leave. I know the Blackhearts snuck up on him and smacked him upside the head. Guess he finally woke up, so they brought him here."
"Ah" Benedict replied nodding his understanding as the man crisply returned the salute before continuing on his way to join the other officer prisoners. "You know, all soldiers are really looking for in a commander is someone that's got guts, enough brains to know his own job and who gives a crap about them" he said. "Everything after that is just frosting on the cake." he observed, wondering what his own commanding officer was up to right now?
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===The politics of Surrender===
Only a couple of kilometers away, it really wasn't a big town, Franklin Hallis was currently wandering through the Baron's Apartments in the palace, thinking that his wife would really hate the tacky décor. The Von Strang's probably thought all that gold leaf made the overly ornate furniture look sophisticated, but in reality it only demonstrated their complete lack of taste.
Expensive does not mean classy after all, he considered, rolling his eyes at the memory of the gold-plated toilet he discovered in the lavatory next to the master bedroom, before coming across yet another oil painting of Gunthar Von Strang striking a heroic pose hanging on a wall. "Pick out the best one of these paintings of the Vampire for the museum back home, see if any of the mercenary companies want one for a souvenir themselves and then have the rest of burned" he instructed his aide who tapped the order into her noteputer having just rejoined him after taking a short break.
Hallis scratched his nose. "Have any records we find, including personal journals and whatever, boxed up. There might be some valuable intelligence there and I guess some historian might want to be able to read them one day."
"Yes, Sir" the aide replied. "What about any valuables?"
"We'll divide those up between the local peasants, it was their hard work that paid for them in the first place and if we do end up transplanting a bunch of them to Paran it should help get them off to a good start in their new home." Hallis replied.
The aide nodded. "While you were in the can I got a message from Captain Clemence. They blew the door off the planetary treasury and found about a quarter of a ton of gold bars, a couple of tons of silver and a lot of diamonds in there, cut and uncut" she told him. "On the subject of diamonds, Major Tyson is moving his lance to help secure the mine as ordered, although he did say that when he volunteered for this mission it was for a change in pace, not to just end up guarding another diamond mine. I'm pretty sure he was joking."
"The whole reason I chose him to do it was as a joke, so I hope so." Hallis replied. "On a more serious mercenary-related matter, please let Colonel Bolton know again that as well as the Rangers receiving a disproportionately large amount of the battlefield salvage, in order to make good their material losses, that Niops will provide free medical care of the highest quality to any of his wounded and injured requiring treatment once we return home" he said. "As regards the dependents of any of his people that were killed in action, it's not my call but I will push for the government to grant them the same war pensions that the loved ones of Niops soldiers that fall in the line of duty would. They fought and died under the Cameron Star against a sworn enemy of the Star League and that should count for something in my opinion."
Hallis straightened up. "Talking of enemies of the Star League I think it's time to send for our most important prisoner." he said. "Have him brought to the Great Hall, I'll see him there, but before I do have that ****** Rim Worlds Republic flag in there torn down and have a Cameron Star put up instead."
"Already got people on it, Sir" the aide replied smiling. "Planning on being sat on that throne in there when he's brought in?"
"Nah, that would be a little too much." Hallis replied. "Anyhow, I already sat on his gold toilet."
Struggling against his bonds would have been undignified and given that he was being manhandled along by two infantrymen, one either side, both half-a-head taller than him and built like powerlifters, it wasn't like escape was on the cards for Karl Von Strang anyway. Facing a firing squad or a hangman's noose with honour and courage, rather than being shot in the back while fleeing, was a more suitable end for the Baron of Strang and if it was his fate to die he would do so on his own terms.
They certainly weren't taking any risks as regards any opportunity he might have for escape. As well as the guards either side, both of whom had a neural stunstick as well as a pistol, and the plastic cuffs on his wrists, there were two more soldiers in SLDF uniforms following on a few metres behind, one with a Mauser 960 rifle and the other a sonic stunner.
As he had been led through the courtyard earlier Von Strang had seen a large Cameron Star flag being raised over one of the still partially-smouldering flak towers in the near distance, the baron noting that it was the Red Cameron Star of Niops rather than the Star League original, and he assumed at some point a similar flag was going to be raised above his palace, perhaps in some kind of ceremony.
Not dying in battle had been a little unfortunate, a more fitting and glorious end for one of his bloodline that would have mirrored how the great Gunthar fell, but fate was fickle. After ejecting from his disabled and burning mech Von Strang had momentarily considered suicide, but instead decided he would look his enemy in the eyes as they ordered his death, make sure they knew they may have beaten him but they had not broken him.
"No need to drag me along, I know the way" Von Strang informed his guards, striding along as if he was late for a dinner engagement, not heading to his probable execution, maintaining his poise despite the plastic cuffs on his wrists and exhibiting a calm, almost bored demeanor as he went.
Occasionally they would pass someone in the hallways as they made their way through the palace, most of them wearing a variation of the plain olive drab uniform of the SLDF but a few seemed to be mercenaries in somewhat more flamboyant garb. "Under the circumstances I suppose can't really do anything about the inevitable looting." Von Strang remarked, coming across a young officer wearing a mechwarrior's jumpsuit that seemed to be taking considerable interest in a statue of Apollo resting on a plinth, "but if you're planning on stealing that at least have the decency to keep the whole set together" he continued. "There's an Olympian God in each of the corridors, not that I expect any of you peons to be able to recognize any of them"
"I prefer the Roman Pantheon myself, but this is actually pretty good work" the young officer replied. "You can barely tell it was made by a robot with a laser, not a person with a hammer and chisel."
"Robot?!" Von Strang responded, losing his cool. "My Great-Grandfather hired the most talented sculptor in the Rim Worlds Republic to make those" he declared.
"If he did then the sculptor conned him" the officer replied. "I mean it would make a nice garden ornament I suppose."
"You clearly have no idea what you're talking about" Karl Von Strang spluttered.
"I minored in Art History, but if you say so" the young officer replied, smirking as Von Strang was prompted by his guards to get moving again.
"Art History?" Von Strang muttered to himself.
"As long as you major in a science at the university the government will still cover your course fees, but there's supposed to be a lot more hoops to jump through before they'll sign off on the financial grant" one of the guards told him, there was no need to be surly as long as the prisoner was being cooperative after all. "I ran across a second-lieutenant once that minored in geography, not geology, geography" he said, shaking his head in bewilderment. "Still not convinced they could read a map properly though" he added, not entirely in jest.
When they reached the Great Hall, Karl Von Strang found a familiar face already there, one that seemed to be deep in conversation with another man. Resisting the urge to swear at him, or even charge at the man, the baron instead looked at him with disdain.
"I suppose I should introduce myself to you properly" the target of the Baron's ire addressed him, smiling. "Colonel Mitch Johnson, commanding officer of the Blackhearts Mercenary Company, although given the nature of this particular operation it might be as well to use our original name, the 77th Special Operations Group of the Star League Defense Force" the mercenary officer said, still smiling and looking more than a little smug. "Allow me to introduce my current superior, Brigadier-General Henry Franklin of the SLDF, currently in service of the Niops Association as the de facto, and de jure, Star League and Terran Hegemony in Exile," he continued. "General Franklin, Baron Karl Von Strang."
"I wish I could say it was an honor to meet you Baron, but it is certainly a pleasure to see you under these circumstances" the Brigadier responded, also seeming plenty pleased with himself. "If I have those handcuffs removed you're not going to try something stupid are you?" he asked. "My people will beat the crap out of you if you do."
"I would give neither you, nor them, the satisfaction." Vonn Strang replied flatly, holding up his cuffs.
"Cut him loose." Frankin ordered, one of the guards doing so with a pocket knife before they both took a step back, hands meaningfully resting on the pistols on their belts.
"Why am I here?" Von Strang wanted to know.
"Why are any of us here?" Franklin responded. "Is there any objective meaning to our existence at all?" he asked rhetorically.
Karl Von Strang narrowed his eyes. "I didn't mean in the philosophical sense."
"I know, I also realize that continuing to that yank your chain after already deflating your ego by taking your planet away from you is crass, but I never claimed to be a paladin of virtue." Franklin replied, smiling. "You know my wife likes to talk philosophy over dinner, I'd personally much prefer to watch the holovid but she outranks me at home" he remarked to Johnson before turning back to Von Strang. "You're here because it suited me to have you brought here."
"Did you expect me to quail before you or beg for mercy?" Karl Von Strang asked, amused.
Franklin shook his head. "Entertaining though it might be, based on Colonel Johnson's thoughts and opinions regarding your character, no I didn't." he replied. "We have your wife and son in custody, along with your sister, apart from your sister they are entirely unharmed, although all are understandably distressed."
"What did you do to my sister?"
"While we were attempting to place her in protective custody she attacked one of my soldiers, first biting him and then attempting to claw out his eyes." Franklin told him dispassionately. "The level of force needing to be applied in order to subdue her resulted in her dislocating her shoulder. She has since been heavily sedated, both for her own comfort and the safety of our medics."
"That does sound like Arabella." Karl Von Strang conceded, when they were children his little sister had attempted to severely maim him on three non-consecutive occasions. There was a reason why he had been entirely unable to find a man willing to marry her, most took the potential suitor she stabbed in the leg when she was sixteen and their father was still alive as fair warning. It certainly didn't help that Dad had thought it was hilarious.
"I assume you would like to see your family to check on their wellbeing, even the comatose one?" Franklin asked.
Von Strang smirked. "Do you intend to threaten them in order to try and force me to comply with some instruction?" he asked. "Good luck with that" he added, sounding blasé about the possibility though mostly because he reasoned that if they thought he didn't care they would be less likely to harm them. His wife wasn't the easiest person to live with, and his son was a brat, something he mostly blamed his wife for, but that didn't mean he didn't care.
He would even be upset if they did something nasty to Arabella, not distraught you understand, but at least a little perturbed, she was his baby sister after all.
"No," Franklin replied flatly. "We're not in the business of comporting ourselves in the way people like you do."
"People like me?" Von Strang queried, a wry smile on his face.
"Petty tyrants." Franklin explained.
Von Strang looked at him askance. "Petty? I rule an entire star system."
"You ruled a star system, past tense, one with fewer people living there than immigrate into the Niops Hegemony every few weeks or so" Franklin replied. "And I'll note you didn't quibble with being called a tyrant."
"Those without vision unable to see the big picture often mistake a well organised autocracy for tyranny" Von Strang responded. "Everything my ancestors and I did was for the long-term betterment of our people and in order to ensure the glorious rebirth of the Rim Worlds Republic."
"I'd say that's the most delusional thing I'd ever heard, but my father claimed to have once met a man on New Dallas that thought the Confederacy would rise again."
"The Stewart Confederacy that ended up part of the Free Worlds League?" Johnson queried.
"No, the Confederate States of America, short lived separatist slaveocracy, 19th Century Terra." Franklin explained.
"That's like a thousand years ago." Johnson said, raising his eyebrows. "Almost makes trying to bring the Star League back after less than a century of it being dead and gone sound plausible by comparison."
"The Star League was never gone, it was just resting" Franklin told him, his expression and the tone of his delivery indicating it was meant as a mild rebuke. "The Cameron Star never stopped flying over Niops."
"By that criteria then the Rim Worlds Republic never fell either as it continued right here." Karl Von Strang interjected looking pleased with what he thought was a cutting observation.
"The Rim Worlds Republic fell in 2775, Nico Von Strang didn't arrive here and declare it his personal fiefdom until five years later." Franklin responded. "There was no continuity, you're not the Rim Worlds Republic, you're a tribute band with a statue of the lead singer of the original group out front to try and fool the rubes that you're the real thing."
Mitch Johnson gave him a look.
"Okay, so we've only got the drummer from the original line-up ourselves, but we're still way more the Terran Hegemony than these clowns are the Rim Worlds Republic." Franklin defended his argument, and the claim of the Niops Association to be a direct descendant of its founding polities by an unbroken line.
It wasn't quite just a polite fiction, but it certainly wasn't a position the Great Houses who also claimed to be the lawful inheritors of the Star League would be likely to accept, Johnson thought to himself.
Karl Von Strang rolled his eyes. "I fervently hope that you are not planning to torture me as much as you torture metaphors." he asked drily.
"We're more aficionados of the use of truth drugs when it comes to interrogations as it happens but rest assured that if you do end up being strapped to a chair and beaten with rubber hoses it'll be someone from the Lyran Intelligence Corps doing it not us." Franklin told him.
"You're handing me over to the Steiners? Why?" Von Strang wanted to know.
"Diplomacy" Franklin explained. "We're planning to give both your senior staff and the most objectionable elements of your state security apparatus the option of also getting to enjoy the tender mercies of the Lyran Commonwealth, or else returning with us to Niops and living out their days in our prison system performing hard labour."
"What about my, I mean our, families?" Von Strang reasonably wanted to know.
"That will have to be determined on a case-by-case basis" Franklin replied. "I'm not sure if the Baroness Von Strang will be particularly welcome wherever she ends up, the same being likely true of your son and heir, but if needs be we'll take them with us for their protection."
"How civilized of you after robbing my wife of her home and my son of his rightful inheritance." Von Strang replied.
"Her home was built on the backs of the peasants, and there is little 'rightful' about your families rule over this planet." Franklin retorted. "That said a certain degree of recognition of a modicum of legitimacy will help with the paperwork."
"Paperwork?" Von Strang queried, confused.
"Yes, the bureaucrats back home provided us with a document for you to sign accepting the terms for your formal surrender, naturally you'll be given the chance to read it before signing but I suggest you do" Franklin advised.
"Let me guess, this is one of those offers I can't refuse and the only alternatives open to me are that either my signature or my brains will be on the document?" Von Strang replied, smirking again. "I choose brains" he declared, crossing his arms in front of him.
"No, you can refuse to sign, and we won't kill you for doing so, the only downside from your perspective is the position it places your family in" Franklin told him.
"So, you are threatening my family?" Karl Von Strang replied. "I go along with your charade that this invasion, and I assume annexation, being somehow lawful, and not a grievous violation of the sovereignty of an independent power, or my family pays the price for my recalcitrance?"
Mitch Johnson looked at him with amusement. "I've got to say that if you wanted the international community to give a hoot about the sovereignty of your planet then renaming it in honour of Gunther Von Strang was a bad move to start with, one that only got worse when you decided to call your capital city Hitlerville' he opined. "Sorry, I mean 'Amaris City' of course" he corrected himself sardonically, Von Strang not appreciating the comparison judging by his expression. "You know, I've spent most of my life living in the Taurian Concordat where they outright despise the very idea of the Star League and hate the SLDF with a passion, and even there you're not going to find anybody that's going to want to be seen as aligned with the unrepentant war-criminal demographic. That is not a hill any politician wants their career to die on."
"It's not like anyone ever recognized you diplomatically anyway." Franklin noted. "Hell, from what we've been able to tell even most of the pirate bands in this neck of the woods wouldn't want to be seen as having anything to do with you. They were probably worried that if the Lyrans ever decided to deal with you once and for all they might get swept up when the Steiners cleaned house" he suggested. "Anyhow, you seem to assume that this is a carrot or stick situation where your family get the stick if you don't cooperate, it's not, there's no stick as such, but there is a potential carrot. I'm prepared to give you a choice as to what happens to them, or rather where they end up" he continued. "They can be handed over to the Lyran authorities with you or they can go into exile in the Niops Hegemony where we will guarantee their safety."
Karl Von Strang frowned. "I note that you're not offering simply remaining here as an option." he responded.
"No, that is certainly not on the cards." Franklin confirmed. "The Barony of Strang is no more, this world will revert to its original name of Erin and regardless of how the population chooses to live their lives from now on it will not be with a Von Strang in their midst, even if we're not vindictive enough to end your blood line entirely."
"Given that you were clearly vindictive enough to travel the breadth of the Inner Sphere in order to avenge yourself on my nation for some perceived slight, and on my family personally, you'll understand why I treat anything you have to say on the matter with a healthy degree of scepticism." Von Strang replied. "I must confess however that my ego is benefitting greatly from the fact you considered overthrowing me worth all the trouble and expense incurred in doing so."
"It's really just the symbolism of finally putting the matter of the Amaris Coup to rest once and for all, with the Cameron Star flying overhead demonstrating the final victory of good over evil as I'm sure you well know." Franklin replied.
Karl Von Strang laughed. "Good versus evil? What a simplistic and grossly subjective worldview you have."
"If you prefer a more objective argument then it's a clash of ideologies to see which is strongest and since we're the ones deciding your future, not the reverse." Franklin countered. "History will record that your illiterate, forelock-tugging peasantry fighting for a despot was no match whatsoever for our educated, free-thinkers fighting for a liberal-democracy."
"I assume this will be because you'll be the ones writing this history." Von Strang replied dismissively.
"Yeah, and in our society everyone will be able to read it too." Franklin told him. "Let's cut to the chase, for reasons that are largely administrative it would make my life easier if you voluntarily sign the paperwork we put in front of you, basically just dotting the i's and crossing the t's for the sake of the bureaucracy and to make the Diplomatic Corps happy, and unless you want your family paraded in shackles in front of the Lyran media for propaganda purposes you'll play ball."
"And how exactly are they any better off being paraded in shackles in front of your media?" Von Strang asked rhetorically.
"Well, I can guarantee no shackles for a start, except possibly in the case of your sister, and besides which you might want to consider the fate of President Dormax" Franklin suggested.
"Nobody knows the fate of Lucien Lormax" Von Strang replied, choosing not to use his title since he considered the man's brief term as President of the Rim Worlds Republic illegitimate.
Franklin nodded. "Exactly. After he was captured by the Lyrans during the Republic-Commonwealth War he vanished off the face of the Inner Sphere never to be seen again. If the Steiners were happy to simply disappear him when Alexsandr Kerensky was still around to keep the Great Houses on something of a leash do you really think Marcus Steiner will treat your family well?" he asked rhetorically.
"Meanwhile this bunch of do-gooders right here really like to portray themselves as the good guys, so they'll go out of their way to look merciful and make sure that the press can check if the remaining Von Strang's are being decently treated" Mitch Johnson interjected.
Franklin frowned at the mercenary. "That somehow makes our magnanimity in victory sound like merely a Machiavellian ploy for the sake of good PR." he clearly objected to the phrasing. "We're the good guys, that's our motivation for acting like the good guys" he insisted, mostly in truth. It wasn't that Johnson was completely wrong per se, but if he had been one of his own men, instead of a mercenary, saying that he would have certainly verbally rapped his knuckles a little harder for saying the quiet part out loud in public though.
"Is he for real?" Von Strang found himself asking Johnson.
"Mostly, I think. It's hard to tell" Johnson replied with a shrug.
"Christ, and to think people call the Davions insufferably self-righteous" Karl Von Strang observed. "If I agree to sign your papers would you do me the favour of putting me in front of a firing squad rather than hand me over to the Lyrans?" he requested.
"No" Franklin replied flatly.
Von Strang sighed. "It was worth a try at least." he said glumly.
"Count yourself lucky that none of your security people had the opportunity to carry out your threat towards the families of any of your soldiers that surrendered" Franklin told him. "I would have been sorely tempted to have you hanged, drawn and quartered, or else broken on the wheel if they had."
"How delightfully medieval of you" Von Strang replied drily.
"Not quite, fifteen hundred years back they didn't have the ability to do that to a man and still keep them alive" Franklin responded. "I'd have still handed you over to the Lyrans breathing, it's just that every breath would have been agony" he said. "Incidentally, if you kill yourself I might have to turn over one or more of your family to House Steiner in your place in order to still placate Lyran sensibilities for messing around on their turf" he warned.
"It's not their turf, it's mine" Von Strang replied, still weighing up suicide but with less enthusiasm for the idea than before. Who knew how the Steiners would treat his son?
"If it was yours it was only by right-of-conquest, and on that basis it's all mine now." Franklin told him. "Be grateful I'm not claiming ownership of your women like some pirate king."
"My sister would murder you while you slept and living with my wife would drive you to drink, so you should be grateful you dodged a bullet there." Karl Von Strang told him. "If I was in your shoes I'd take my mistress as a prize instead. Much easier to live with." he said before sighing. "Very well, I'll sign anything you want and fully cooperate in return for my family being properly taken care of as befits their station." he said. "Anything else? Want me to get down on my knees and beg forgiveness for the transgressions of my family against the lost unlamented House Cameron?" he asked wryly. "Swear fealty to your Great Panjandrum or whatever else it is you call your head of government?"
"His title is the 'High Associator' and no that won't be necessary" Franklin replied.
Von Strang smirked. "Not calling himself the First Lord or even the Director-General? How humble of him."
"I guess we can't all start calling ourselves 'Baron' or whatever one day and just expect people to go along with it at the point of a bayonet can we?" Johnson asked rhetorically although he did personally think that 'High Associator' was a crap title.
"You can make a throne of bayonets, but you can't sit on it for long." Franklin quoted a politician from the short-lived Russian Federation that existed in the handful of years between the First and Second Soviet Union. Dictatorships were often brittle in a way that states with governments underpinned by broad public support were not, they didn't bent, they broke.
Johnson nodded. "Someone might just turn up one day with better bayonets." he suggested.
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==Chapter Notes==
*;Notes from the Author : The capital city of Niops has a planetarium, Amaris City on Von Strang's World has a Greek Amphitheatre, both exist because of their respective cultural backgrounds (a whole bunch of astronomy nerds and the Rim Worlds Republic respectively).The Ares Conventions might not be in legal force any more at this point but they continued to exercise a certain moral authority as standards civilised people looked to.The fate of Lucian Dormax, last President of the Rim Worlds Republic is unknown, but it's safe to say the Lyran Commonwealth never let him see the light of day again after they captured him during the Republic-Commonwealth War.This is not the last we will hear of the toothsome Lady Arabella Von Strang, younger sister of Baron Karl Von Strang. He's actually one of the more saner members of his family.
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Chapter 62