The Privilege of Command (A TOCR Story)

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=Story By Starbug=
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SLS Daedalus
Uninhabited System
Deep Periphery
January 27th, 3066
As a child growing up on Rorke's Drift, Richard De L'Isle had been told his share of stories of his peoples history. How his ancestors had followed the great General Aleksandr Kerensky into exile to save the remains of the fallen Star League from the damage their weapons would have done. How they had followed him, loyally, across thousands of light years to the distant Pentagon Worlds. Then how the dream had almost died with the General, and the rise of his son Nicholas, who was not worth of his father's name. About how, mad with power, Nicholas had attempted to remould their civilisation in his own twisted image, how he had raised the warriors up above all others, forgetting that a soldier's first duty is to protect and serve, to oppress and rule. About how, Sarah McEvedy and Franklin Hallis had attempted to find a peaceful solution by removing their people from the other Clans, only to be betrayed by their former comrades, blamed for the crimes of others and hunted like wild animals.
So they had gathered together as many people and ships as they could and ran, Hallis and the troops under his command fighting a bitter rearguard action while McEvedy led those she could away from the madness and tyranny that had befallen the other Clans. And so they had fled, back along the path their forefathers had taken, to the already war-stricken Great Houses. There they had raided the Draconis Combine for much needed supplies, rescuing a number of innocents from a government re-education camp, before moving down the edge of the Inner Sphere. When it became clear that they were being followed, they managed to throw off their pursuers by cutting across the Inner Sphere, using seldom visited, uninhabited systems plotted by the Star League years before in case they ever needed to move against one or more of the House Lords. Thus they had managed to head back out into the Periphery a thousand light years from where anyone was expecting them.
With no safe haven in sight, they had consulted their star charts and found a reference to an SLDF outpost two years hard travel out, further even than the great General Aleksandr Kerensky had led his people in the Exodus. Hoping to find at least habitable worlds, they had turned their backs on the Inner Sphere and started the long trek. It was far from an easy journey; many died along the way, and more than one irreplaceable ship had to be abandoned when a key component broke beyond their ability to repair. But not once had they turned from their chosen path, spurned on by the memory of what had happened to them on Circe, the sacrifices of Hallis and his troops, as well as the hardships they had already endured in the depths of space. Providence had relayed their grim determination with salvation, as on July 14th, 2828 they jumped into the Rorke's Drift system and were immediately confronted by the SLS Jericho, a Texas class battleship formerly of the Star League, but under the control of the emerging Outer Colonies Defense Force. Several tense hours of back and forth radio chatter followed, until it became clear that both groups were truly descended from old Star League units and held the same values and beliefs. Quickly granted sanctuary on Rorke's Drift, the surviving descendants of the 331st Royal BattleMech Division and the people they had rescued from the Draconis Combine were at last able to lay their burdens down and settle on a world of their own, far from those that had sort to kill them.
De L'Isle could trace his lineage back to the 331st by way of his mother's side, who was a descendent of the Clemence bloodline, while his father's family had been living on Rorke's Drift since at least the time of the Star League, if not before. As such he was considered to be 'Of The Blood', someone who carried within them the legacy of McEvedy, Hallis, and all the others who had stood up against the madness and tyranny of Nicholas Kerensky. And, like all the others who shared that legacy, he knew that, should the Clans ever discover the truth, then war would descend upon his homeworld in a manor not seen since the Age of War. That was why, as a child, he had looked up at the star-filled night sky and felt the call to defend his people, his home, against any and all who would harm it. He had worked diligently at school, pushing himself to attain the grades he needed to apply for the Officer-Cadets program. He had joined the planetary militia as soon as he was of age, putting everything he had into his training. At first he had sort to be a pilot, but a broken leg resulting from a training accident put pay to that, so he instead took the tactical and navigation courses, setting his sites on crewing one of the warships that stood guard over the Outer Colonies. One of the proudest days of his life had been when he'd reported aboard the SLS Ivanhoe, the flagship of Sarah McEvedy had led her people from, as a newly commissioned Ensign.
He had worked hard, excepting assignments that would take his away from his wife and young daughter, if they helped advance his career. It had been no surprise when the divorce papers had arrived, and he signed them without protest; his first love would always be the service, and it had been cruel to pretend that his wife could have ever competed with it. The one bright light in that whole debacle had been his daughter, Amelia, and he had spent as much time with her as he could, writing her regular letters and making sure that a percentage of his pay was sent to her, regular as clockwork. He was far from the perfect father, but his ex-wife had remarried, to a school teacher this time, and Amelia had the stability she needed growing up.
With his personal life in ruins, De L'Isle had thrown himself even deeper into his career. Promotions and transfers had followed, including a stint at the Admiralty on Port Stanley. But the one position he'd always sort, that of a captaincy, always seemed just out of reach. He had been offered DropShips and JumpShips, sometimes even a space station, but the lure of commanding a warship had driven him to turn them all down. But there were less than fifty ships in service, and almost every captain and admiral in the service wanted one. Each year the chance that he would be selected to fill one of the rare open spots had become greater and greater, until De L'Isle was sure that his next tour would see him commanding a desk, and that would see him out of the military, meaning that all the sacrifices he had made would have been in vain.
Then he had been contacted by a distant relative working in Naval Intelligence. De L'Isle had never sort to play to patronage game, even if, as being Of The Blood would make it easier to rise through the ranks, given the disproportionately large number of people from Rorke's Drift serving in the military, including the higher ranks. But while he had never sort to contact what family he had in the halls of power, they had been keeping an eye on him. Invited to a nondescript government building in McEvedy City, he had found himself sitting across a desk from a woman with no apparent rank, who did not give her name, but offered him the chance to serve his people in the manor he had always dreamed of. It was then that he learnt of the underground foundries and factories that had been working around the clock to build new weapons and equipment. Of the secret training facilities where a new army was taking shape, and of the ships that had been secretly recovered from the vast bone-yard that orbited the dead world of Hamunaptra. Refurbished in hidden shipyards, these ships were now ready to travel the stars once more. As an trained and seasoned officer Of The Blood, De L'Isle was being offered the once in a lifetime chance to command a warship of his own. He had accepted the offer at once, expecting at best a frigate or destroyer, but instead he had been handed a file detailing the Avatar class Heavy Cruiser SLS Daedalus, with orders to ship out immediately. The day he first stepped aboard ranked up with the first time he'd held Amelia as one of the greatest moments of his life.
He had expected to be undertaking war-games and other training exercises, before long patrols through the outer reaches of the home systems and other nearby stars, but instead he had been ordered to Nueva EspaÃ±a to collect the Grand-Duchess Gabriela de Mendosa, at eighteen standard years, the youngest child of Queen Annabel VI and the official royal envoy to the peace summit with the Reman Imperium on Shakespeare. He didn't mind the young noblewoman herself; he had been polite, thanking him for providing transportation, and apologised for taking his cabin from him. Unfortunately, while her highness was the personification of Noblesse Oblige, her advisers had proven to be far more disruptive and demanding guests, driving many of the crew to detraction. The tedium of long space voyages could be tiresome enough at the best of times, but trying to deal with a dozen pompous contours and diplomats was almost too much for even the most seasoned spacer to bare.
Still, it was only another ten weeks or so...
The End
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The Privilege of Command
The Privilege of Command
The Privilege of Command