BtH48

==Chapter 48 - By the Horns==
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Taurian Defense Force Military Reservation (I Corps HQ)
Port Sheridan, New Vallis
Taurian Concordat
November 20th, 3025
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“I should place you under arrest and ship you home to Thomas,” Corey Calderon said with a sigh. “You realize you are damn lucky I didn’t just blow your ships out of space when you showed up with a reinforced regiment—without any warning!”
Edward nodded, and Corey scowled at the much younger man. “Edward, son,” he said with a shake of his head, “Thomas is going to go ballistic over this whole damned mess. First off, you bring four battalions of FedRats . . .,” and as Edward frowned, Corey just held up a hand, “mercenaries—some of whom are mercenaries in name only, by the way—who just happened to work for Hanse freaking Davion yesterday; you bring them here and land them on New Vallis. Then, because you obviously have no concern for the status of my blood pressure or the possibility of me suffering a stroke, deign to inform me that Michael Hasek-Davion is due to arrive within the next few hours at the head of the entire Sixth Syrtis Fusiliers RCT—with the intention of conquering this world!”
“Correct, Uncle Corey—except I am rather worried about your blood pressure . . . have you been taking your meds?” Edward interjected with a grin—and Brigadier Tanis Verbet snorted as Corey glared at Edward.
“But oh, oh, you weren’t finished, were you?” Corey continued after transferring his glare to the CO of the First Battalion, Hyades Light Infantry and then to her immediate superior—Colonel Fiona Jamesen—before looking Edward in the eyes once more. “No, you claim that Hanse freaking Davion has declared Michael Hasek-Davion—his brother-in-law, if I may remind you!—and the entire Sixth Fusiliers as pirates and renegades, who are just conveniently no longer members of the bloody damned AFFS. Hours before they launch an assault on a Taurian world! Sounds to me like something the Fox would pull.”
“For what end, Marshal Calderon?” Fiona asked. “If they return to Federated Suns space and are welcomed home, then we know it was an attempt to trick us—and that would inspire Thomas to devise a means to strike at the Davions just to show he won’t be rolled over. No, as much as I do not care for the House of Davion and their ambitions,” the older woman mused quietly, “we must look at what is happening here. Edward has brought four battalions—plus his own escort—to the sound of the guns . . . as any good Taurian should do,” she smiled at the Heir to the Bull as she said this, and Edward nodded his head to her. She continued. “He was expecting New Vallis to be defended by just two TDF battalions—Tanis and her First Hyades and Mikhail’s Third Battalion, Concordat Jaegers. He didn’t know that Thomas and Brenda redeployed the entire TDF to add the Second Hyades, my Regimental HQ, and the Calderon Red Hand.”
Brigadier Rafael Montoya nodded. “Ambassador Calderon,” he said, stressing the first word heavily, “had already departed before it was decided to reinforce the core worlds of the Concordat. And I too applaud the action of a Calderon who decides that defending a world of the Concordat comes first and foremost over all other priorities—even to the point of hiring this many mercenaries out of his own pockets.”
Corey—reluctantly—conceded the point with a shrug. But then the old man sat down in his chair and he sighed again. “Eddie, if you are wrong—if Hanse Davion welcomes these assholes back into his service—Thomas will have no choice but to officially disown you and send you into Exile.”
“Ardan Sortek,” Edward said, and Corey winced at the name of the commander of the Foxhounds mercenary battalion, “assures me that Prince Davion is quite serious—and he has provided us with a full and complete listing, as of four weeks ago, of the entire Table of Organization and Equipment of the Sixth Fusiliers . . . right down to the exact make and model of each and every vehicle and ‘Mech that they field.”
Rafael pursed his lips—and Tanis grinned broadly. Edward waited until each of the senior TDF officers present had nodded and then he continued. “Between your commands, you have basically six Inner Sphere battalions worth of ‘Mechs—plus seven regiments of armor and nearly twenty of infantry. Heck, Uncle Corey, you have an entire regiment of self-propelled Thumpers, along with a battalion each of Snipers and Long Toms!” Edward paused. “Between the Foxhounds and Colonel Wylie and his Coyotes, I’ve got just over four battalions of my own—that’s a total of ten versus the three that the Sixth can field.”
“And our conventional arms outnumber his,” Corey finished, “although not by quite the same margins. You understand that Thomas is liable to hang me from the nearest lamp-post as well, Edward?”
“Edmund Burke said it best, Uncle Corey—‘All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.’ I refuse to do nothing. Father may well not approve of my actions—but I take those actions for the Concordat. The Capellans have already attacked, according to the reports I’ve heard—this is our one chance to stop a second war on another front. A simultaneous war, Sir; I would suggest that the Marshal ask Brigadier Montoya how that worked out for our people the last time around.”
“I don’t need some wet-behind-the-ears jackass to tell me my history, boy!” Corey snapped. But then his shoulders dropped and he sighed a third time. “Alright, son—I’ll back your play. God knows that every man we can put on the field will lower the numbers of our dead in the end, after all. BUT,” Corey said firmly, “I’m sending word to Thomas immediately aboard one of the courier ships. And if the Protector of the Taurian Concordat tells me to open fire on your mercenaries, Edward,” Corey paused and his eyes clouded, but he stared Edward straight in the eyes, “if he orders me to open fire on you—I will do so. Still want to take that chance?”
“Yes, Sir—but I would like to send a message to Father on that courier ship as well,” Edward said.
Corey nodded, and then he stood up and walked around the desk to take Edward’s hand in his own. “Whatever Thomas decides, son—it’s been an honor,” and then Corey snorted in a fit of laughter. “You realize, with all the strings that Thomas has pulled to keep you—his Heir Apparent—out of combat up ‘til now, he’s likely to insist I sit on your ass here in my HQ? That even if he gives the go-ahead, YOU aren’t likely to be taking the field . . . Subaltern.”
Edward’s mouth opened, and then he closed it. “I will follow my orders, Marshal Calderon,” he said quietly as he came to attention.
“Somehow, Eddie, I doubt that,” Corey answered. “Come on, boy—the radio transmitter is a'waiting and Michael Hasek-Davion and his Sassy Syrtis Fools are coming to play in our sand box real soon. Time for you to call home.”
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