BtH41

==Chapter 41 - By the Horns==
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Flight Operations Control Tower
Samantha City Spaceport, Taurus
Taurian Concordat
November 12th, 3025
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“Thomas, we are committing our reserves too early,” Brenda whispered to the Protector one last time as long lines BattleMechs marched past the Tower on their way to board their waiting DropShips. “We know that there is still heavy fighting continuing on both MacLeod’s Land and Laconis—but this could be just the first push into our space by the Capellans. We can’t commit this much of our reserves yet—this deployment will leave us with just one battalion in reserve here on Taurus. One battalion—for the entire Hyades, Thomas.”
Thomas Calderon frowned and he waved away the crowd of aides and staff; his bodyguards formed a perimeter around him and Brenda and Marshal Vickers, leaving them within a bubble of semi-privacy. “War is risk—you both said that. I want to send a message to Maximillian Liao that he won’t soon forget,” Thomas spat. “I don’t just want McCarron and his men defeated—I want them dead, Marshals.”
“We can redeploy two battalions from New Vandenberg and Pinard, plus four from here on Taurus, Protector,” Helena answered. “That will give us the same numbers that you are sending—while keeping three battalions in central reserve.”
“NO,” growled Thomas. “What if New Vandenberg and Pinard are their intended targets? We will send the Guard Corps out and we will shatter them.”
“Even if they plan on hitting New Vandenberg and Pinard, Protector,” Brenda continued, “they cannot have planned for Laconis and MacLeod’s Land having four battalions of defenders—plus the local regulars and Constabulary. Odds are they won’t have the force left to assault New Vandenberg or Pinard . . . unless there is another wave coming from inside the Confederation. That, my Protector, is a contingency which we need to stand ready for—by preserving the Guard Corps here to respond if necessary.”
“My mind is made up, Brenda. Helena,” Thomas said in a calmer voice. “Yes, it is a risk—yes, it leaves our reserves dangerously weak. BUT,” he stressed, “if Edward and Henri are right—if Hanse Davion truly wants peace, then our border there will be secure. And we still have the garrisons on worlds facing Davion. Liao has invaded—in force. And Our Defense Forces will meet them—in force.”
“Hanse Davion is not the only leader in the Federated Suns,” Helena cautioned. “If they attack and our reserve is already committed to the far ends of the Concordat, they will be out of position to react, Thomas. We don’t need the entire Guards and Velites regiments . . . we have to retain a reserve.”
“And how long would that delay this operation—the Guards are loading NOW, Marshal Vickers?” Thomas retorted with more than a little heat. “We would have to send a message to New Vandenberg and you, better than any among us, know that such orders take time; it takes time to ready a unit to deploy, even one that is supposed to be ready to go on a moment’s notice.” He snorted. “Hell, it took us two days to get the Reserve ready to lift. How much longer will our citizens have to suffer at the hand’s of that Butcher McCarron before we relieve these worlds if we wait? A week? Two?”
“Not that long, Protector,” Helena said with a sigh.
“No, not that long, Marshal Vickers—but it will delay this deployment . . . or offer the Capellans a chance to defeat our reinforcements in detail with them arriving at different times and perhaps different jump points. Yes?”
“That is a . . . possibility, Protector.”
“No,” Thomas said again as he shook his head. “My mind is clear on this—we are sending in the Guards and Velites . . . and we are redeploying one battalion each from Pinard and New Vandenberg to garrison Brisbane. I’m not happy that they are hanging out there in the wind—a Cappie Home Guard unit could take that system.”
Brenda and Helena both winced. “Brisbane has armor and infantry units, plus the Constabulary, Thomas,” Brenda began. “They aren’t Ishtar, after all.”
Thomas didn’t answer, he just looked at the line of ‘Mechs loading aboard their transports. “You have your orders, Marshal Calderon,” he said at last. “Bring me Archie McCarron’s head.”
“Sir,” she answered, snapping to attention and saluting. Thomas nodded and then she did an about-face and marched off to join her troops.
“How are your repairs coming, Helena?”
“We have managed to jury-rig a number of components—at the price of gutting the K/F cores of four JumpShips. Samantha Calderon will be able to deploy—if it is an emergency—by next week. But I recommend we wait for the first of the new machined parts; if we have another drive failure away from Taurus, we will be extremely vulnerable to attack.”
“I’ll bear that in mind, Marshal—not going to argue any more?” he asked with a crooked smile.
“You are the Protector, Sire—I’ll fight you tooth and nail if I think you are wrong, but this? This is a judgment call. I wouldn’t have made the same choice—but you’ve made up your mind. And I understand your reasoning, so no. I’m not going to fight you on this call.”
“Is it the right choice?” Thomas softly asked.
“History doesn’t tell us ahead of time whether or not our choices will be right, wrong, or fatal, Protector. We put our money on the table and we play the hands we are dealt—nothing more, nothing less.”
“No regrets?”
“Regrets I’ve had a few—but then again,” she said with a smile, “too few to mention.”
Thomas snorted. “I did what I had to do . . . and saw it through without exception.”
“Exactly, Thomas. Make your choice—and live with it. For good or ill, stand by it. Because right now, at this moment, we don’t know. And I really can’t say that your decision doesn’t appeal to me in assembling a force to utterly destroy those who dare to invade the Concordat. Good or bad, I’ll back you. And I’m the one with the WarShip.”
Thomas didn’t answer, he just came to attention and rendered a hand salute, Helena following, as the standard-bearer of the Taurian Guards marched by—the flags of Taurus and the Concordat, along with the regimental standard, held high as he marched over the tarmac and up the ramp to the waiting DropShip.
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