DRASCTIS 5

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=Die Rettungsaktion - A Story of the Concertverse Inner Sphere - Chapter 5 -=
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=== Rallying Cry ===
Ducal Palace
Roslyn, East Islay
Arcadia, Arcadian Free March
Principality of Bolan/Marian Occupation Zone
24 March 3034
The HPG message came straight from Gypsum. OpForce Tubman's bloody work was done. Unlike the aggressive expansion campaign of the prior year, there were few protests over this action. Even the worlds forced into the Free March were rallying to the fight and offering what support they could, save for those with active insurgents unmoved by the matter.
 
The message's timing was excellent, as it allowed for the news to be disseminated in time for Arcadia's great holiday of the modern era. The planetary flag - a phoenix joined by forested, snowcapped mountains and fields - flew proudly beside the blue and red of the Free March, their twin bird-themed insignia evoking the sentiments of freedom so appropriate for the holiday.
 
Liberation Day.
 
For the second year in a row the parade lacked one of the line units of the army, busy as they were. The First Militia Brigade made up for it, painting their old 'Mechs in fine ceremonial parade color and the pilots, as green as they were, nevertheless keeping their machines in step to the cheers of the crowd. Sara-Marie followed behind them, her husband and youngest son beside her waving at the adoring crowds. She and Prince-Consort Thomas were in AFFM dress red instead of civilian clothing, and even William was in the uniform of the Arcadian Youth Scouts. Behind them were the civilian leaders of the planet and the Free March, waving from their vehicles as well.
 
The path of the parade brought them down the March Esplanade to their terminus. The steps leading up to the Free March Assembly Building had a raised stage and a podium ready for her. The Proctor family coat of arms shined brilliantly on the podium, while a large Free March flag hung horizontally at the back of the stage.
 
Sara-Marie stepped up to the podium with her family in tow. "Greetings, citizens of our proud worlds," she said. "Today we remember the end of the Age of Chains. The final victory of my grandmother over those who thought their might gave them the right to make slaves of their fellow human beings. Through the sacrifices and blood of Sara Proctor and those who rallied to her banner, the Slaver Lords were defeated. Today the heritage of the peoples of Arcadia and of all the worlds of the Free March is the cherishing of human freedom. Of the liberties granted by Providence to all free souls."
 
"I wish today could be a day of celebration only. But alas, it cannot. Today, we must also mourn. We must mourn the loss taken to so many of our families in the fighting on Bolan." Sara-Marie gripped the podium and tried not to think of Mark. "The sacrifice they have made was in the same spirit as that made by so many untold thousands before the fall of Carl Tabot. They fought and died to shatter the chains of slaves, so that others might be free. As great as our pain at their loss is, we must remember that with pride, and join our laments to God with thanks to Him that He brought them into this world. Them, and all others willing to pay the cost of Freedom."
 
"These martyrs of freedom have thrown to us the torch of liberty, to hold aloft against the dark tide that has struck at the Inner Sphere. The Marian Hegemony, seeking to emulate the Romans of old, have adopted the worst of that ancient people, embracing slavery such that the blood and sweat of their slaves oils the machine of their economy. The fall of Bolan, regrettably, could not be prevented, but it is my hope that by the rescue of the last heroic defenders of Bolan and of her people taken in chains, bought at such a terrible price in blood, we have raised a standard for all of the free worlds of the Inner Sphere and the Periphery to rally around. With courage and resolution, we can yet hold the dark tide back. We must, for the sake of all those who have fallen before, and all who are yet born. We will not seek war, but we will not shirk that holy duty should the tide continue advancing. We will hold firm against the darkness of slavery, the living death."
 
Rarely did Sara-Marie make strong gestures in speech. It was not the place of the monarch to behave like a popular politician. But this was not a normal place, not a normal time, and with thoughts of her son's suffering in her heart, she was seized by an impulse that might very well have been divinely-inspired. Instead of merely raising her fist, she reached for the ceremonial officer's sword of the AFFM dress uniform and drew it from the scabbard. The blade shined brilliantly in the sunlight as she raised it high, just as she raised her voice to a shout to close out the speech with words she and her speechwriters hadn't even planned on uttering.
 
"For Arcadia! For the Free March! For God and for Liberty!"
 
The crowd's reply was a thunderous roar of approval, while among the officers sword after sword came from scabbards to likewise point skyward.
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=== Seeking Revenge and a Princess ===
Imperial Palace
Nova Roma, Gaul Continent
Alphard, Marian Hegemony
"To summarize, estimate total losses at over 350 BattleMechs, and nearly 4,000 MHAF personnel, and well past 20,000 slaves between the dead and the escaped. A full accounting may take months given the damage to the city." The HPG message ended and Enis Yassin's face was left frozen on the wall screen of Sean's war room.
 
Sean hurled his drink at the frozen image. "And the whole of Bolan Salvageworks you fucking twatwaffle!" The glass smashed against the screen, breaking both. Sean felt a tinge of regret at the action. The war room was his father's last gift to him. Every single piece of equipment and personnel had been hand picked by Marius O'Reilly. There was a good chance the factory that made that screen had been destroyed by the Black Warriors attack. There would never be another.
 
Sean redirected that rage towards the men and women around him. They were supposed to be the best and brightest in the Hegemony. Yet so was Yassin, and he'd led his legions into a debacle. "Three legions worth of 'mechs wiped out! This is a humiliation that the Hegemony must answer!"
 
The people around the table exchanged glances with one another, dithering as Sean had expected. The surviving Praetorian Prefect, Xiahou, was the first to finally speak. "Imperator, it is not nearly so bad as it appears. The vast majority of those losses were suffered by the Gladiator Auxilla, while the Limitanei suffered a good portion of the remainder. Disposable people with disposable machines! Your father didn't even want them—"
 
Sean instinctively reached for his drink to throw, but finding nothing, balled his hand into a fist and slammed it down onto the holotable. "Disposable people? These were MechWarriors brave enough to fight in my name! They are my warriors, and none of them are disposable. My father knew every man, and every machine have their use. Do you have the courage to face a modern seventy five ton mech in a surplus twenty five ton bug? Those Gladiators did! I can't let that go!"
 
Nehkii Khan held up her good hand and spoke in the most patronizing voice Sean had heard since he'd gone into exile. "Please, Imperator, this is not a humiliation. We drove them off of the planet. The bloody nose we gave them will keep them away. Besides, with the Roraii battalions and replacement parts en route the Imperial Legion will be back to fighting trim in a few months." Khan was a recent addition to the senate, a newly elected senator who retired after grievous injuries in the Circinus campaign. They'd chosen her to lead the Senate Committee on Military Affairs. He'd respected her at first. But the Circinans must have taken her spirit at the same time as they'd taken her leg and eye.
 
Sean was on his feet now. He loomed over the old warrior across the table. "If the Imperial Legions can bounce back, then they should strike back! This is just the last insult. First they take Gypsum, rightfully ours. Then they come here, steal away our slaves, steal away our glory and take away Princess Umayr and her family before we can have vengeance on them! How hard has Umayr tried to bring us down? Remember Timbiqui, when she and the Duke of Tamarind blocked my father? Or their aid to the Circinians?! Those same weapons took down your mech on Circinus!"
 
Khan stayed still, her voice narrow, despite Sean's posturing. "And the factories that build them are either ours or in rubble. Bolan is ours, almost the entire country, and with far fewer lives lost than the campaigns in Vincente or Colorado."
 
"The country didn't do shit to me! Their Princess did! I want her and I'll go all the way to Arcadia to get her!"
 
"The Princess is irrelevant without her kingdom." The Senator shot back.
 
Ambrose put a hand out in front of Sean, under the table. Sean knew it was well intentioned, but he seethed. Regardless, he sunk back into his seat and let Ambrose take the floor. Slowly, Ambrose rose. "Prefect, Senator, the Princess still has a kingdom in Gypsum. She still has an army too, and it's backed by far more. Perhaps you haven't read the Vigilis briefings on what's happening in Colorado, but a pretender with no army and no kingdom is running rampant. What could the Umayrs do to us? A whole hell of a lot. We do need to strike back, and it needs to be something that can get Umayr, or at least her emigre army."
 
The two young men glared down the old soldiers across the room. Each daring the other to speak first. Sean scowled. If Lucius had still been around, he wouldn't have hesitated. He'd have punched Arcadia back. That's what a real man did. How could it be that the only loyal advisor he had had was a mercenary?
 
"M...May I speak, Imperator?" Quaestor Aurelia Ulpius spoke, barely loud enough for Sean to hear. Sean gestured for her to speak. She seemed to have trouble doing so under his gaze, but after a few false starts, managed to spit something out. "Imperator….please….I know you're right about the need to fight back. But...the Bolan campaign...it stretched our finances to the breaking point. We can't support a major offensive. We were barely able to pay for last year's campaign. The Boyz Movers alone cost nearly half of our supply stockpiles. Even a small campaign will divert resources from our efforts to bring order to the minor independent worlds on our border."
 
Sean scowled at her, to which she sunk deeper into her chair. But the mousey bureaucrat was right. The advisors father had stocked his war room with hammered home father's favourite maxim in every lesson: a soldier cannot fight without a full belly and a good pair of shoes. Sean thought he had a head for war, but even he saw that he didn't have a head for numbers. "What the fuck do we have the supplies for?"
 
"I am no general, but a world or two, with a handful of legions, four at most. For perhaps one, two seasons at most. Even then, it would leave little for next year." Aurelia squeaked out.
 
Metellus' chair squeaked as he rearranged himself. Even though he was sitting next to Sean, it was easy to forget his bodyguard was there given how rarely he spoke at council meetings. "You want supplies, just take it from them. Worked for me when I was quarterman of the Circus."
 
"A raiding campaign is certainly within our budget. Gypsum, that was the border world you mentioned before? Surely they have supplies there?"
 
"No." Ambrose interjected. "They're expect a counter-strike, and that's where they'll be waiting. We need to look deeper. The Umayrs are probably on their way to Arcadia by now. But Vigilis intel says the Bolanese are regrouping on Sierpc and Rosice. We want to take revenge, show them who's boss, that's where we hit."
 
"It's a start, but it's not enough."
 
"I have a few other options, Imperator. There's an active insurgency on Drosendorf against Arcadian rule. They rode to the rescue on Bolan, and we're gonna ride to the rescue on Drosendorf."
 
"Keep going."
 
"To be honest, Imperator, our forces aren't equipped for raiding, but I took a look at Aurelia's numbers earlier, and we do have just enough budget for this unit." He slid a datapad across the table to Sean. On it was the symbol of a kraken ripping apart a jumpship.
 
The tension finally broke in the room as Sean laughed at the image. "The fuck is this? You had a giant space squid and didn't tell me?"
 
"Nah, look at page two. Terror From the Deep are the most experienced raiders in the sphere. Pirate level of viciousness, but pro merc level of reliability. We let them loose on the Arcadians, and they will bring the pain, and every Arcadian is going to think twice before challenging you again,"
 
Sean nodded along and slid the pad across the table to Khan and Xiahou. "Get it done."
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===Fevered Dreams===
Marian Field Hospital
Sutlej, Kashir Continent
Bolan, Marian Hegemony
29 March 3034
Drusa lay on the floor next to Cornelia's cot. She had her own cot in a prefab building a five minute shuffle away from her. She chose to grab the paper thin mattress and take it here instead. After the third time her nurse had security drag her back, they'd given up. The number of the wounded was too high for the system to handle, even supplemented by sympathetic city-states like Sutlej. They'd been overwhelmed with their own wounded, civilian and military, even before the Arcadians came.
 
She tossed and turned as she lay. Her sleep was seldom quiet these past weeks. The doctors weren't sure if it was a result of the head injury, or the stress of battle. When she was lucid enough to know things, Drusa knew it was guilt.
 
The normalcy of the week after the alarm, the routines of military life, the patrols deeper into Bolan City, it made it all seem surreal. Like they weren't there at all. Then suddenly they were, hundreds of them in what seemed to be out of nowhere. Dropships flying above, and then dots in the sky. Then the Urbanmech next to her exploded.
 
The shock of it helped her to open her eyes. She sat upright, slowly. The room spun, but less than last time, she thought. Assuming what she was remembering was the last time anyways. She looked at Cornelia, leaned over her cot and grabbed her right hand. Her only hand, now. The doctors promised prosthetics, but the Gladiators got shit everything else. Drusa feared the best her friend would get was a hook.
 
"The Centurion is gone." Cornelia replied, as matter of factly as she could. Losing Centurions had become routine, but not this way. Wave after wave of Arcadian fighters pummeled the Gladiators. Their own fighters had long abandoned them in favour of the Imperial Legions. The Arcadians would follow, they always did.
 
"Two enemy lances behind us, moving like lights. Gotta be Bolanese" Cornelia called out.
 
Drusa switched channels, "Legatus, we have a lance of Arcadians coming from east-south-eat and two of Bolanese come from the west. Both Centurions are dead, need assistance."
 
<<"Negative. heavily engaged with Arcadian Rangers.">> Came the reply.
Fuck, not the Rangers again. "Second Century, we're pulling back through the Bolanese, we need to cut through before the Arcadians get here and regroup with Legion command."
They turned and charged. The century was brave, but too slow. Drusa cut down one of the Bolanese Stingers personally, then paused at the trail of humanity huddled behind them. Another caravan of refugees trying to get to the Arcadian zone. She shuddered and pushed on, shearing the autocannon off of an Urbanmech.
 
(("Under fire.")) Cornelia's voice came in with a healthy dose of static, but Drusa still recognized the quiver of fear. Drusa watched as Cornelia ran for cover, but she couldn't outrun the pursuing Griffin's PPC. Her mech crashed to the ground. She didn't eject.
Drusa screamed inside. She fought every emotion to stay and protect her, but she'd taken control of the century and the four survivors were counting on her.
 
She woke again, her head laying on the cot. Someone was shaking her. She opened her eyes and saw her Legatus. He squatted down next to her. "How's Clodia doing today?" Drusa lifted her head to speak, but the words felt enormous, like they were too big to come out of her mouth. The room started to spin again.
 
Somewhere, the Arcadian Lynx was waiting for her. A single shot from it's Gauss Rifle had caved in the cockpit of the Locust on her left. She'd remained crouched behind a hill for almost an hour after that relying on passive sensors, in the hopes she and the survivors of the maniple could outwait the Arcadian.
 
The hills were tall and rough here, hard to move through. Most advances had to be done jump jets, and that exposed them to the enemy fire. Still, Drusa was glad that what remained of the Retiarii had been given this approach rather than the easier ones. The Thraex were literally wading through the bodies of refugees.
 
She heard something moving ahead of her. It had to be the Lynx. She slammed on the jump jets and landed right in front of it. She fired everything she had into it. It was too close in for the Arcadian's gauss, but the thing still had the edge in firepower. An Urbanmech and Commando jumped next to them, evening the score. The Lynx blasted it's jumpjets and Drusa reached out, with her Stinger's free hand, catching the mech off balance, the jets dragged them across the rocky ground and they both collapsed in a heap. The others surrounded the Lynx and hammered it with everything they had.
 
Drusa struggled to her feet. Her head was pounding and she could feel what she hoped was coolant leaking down her forehead. She had risen just in time to see the Urbanmech topple foreward, it's gyro shattered by a Gauss round. She looked to the Lynx on the ground, but the mech lay still. "Run no—" Was all she could say before the second Lynx blasted a hole straight through her Stinger's chest. She was in the air suddenly, she didn't remember pressing the eject. Her mind blocked out what happened after.
 
She was on the floor again. Legatus Avery was there too, sitting in a chair at the end of the cot. "Flavia? You back with me now?"
 
She sat up, using her hands to prop herself up. She closed her eyes to protect her brain fro the blinding power of the ceiling light. "Yeah….I think so."
 
"I know Clodia here means a lot to you, but you need to look after yourself."
 
"I know. But...I just….I can't leave her."
 
"You're going to need to, eventually. Especially if you want to get back at the dicks who did this to her."
 
"What? I thought they were all gone."
 
"From here, yeah. But they'll be back if we don't teach them there are consequences for their actions. We're going to where they live, and we're gonna hit them, hard. Word is the place we're going is where the Bolanese forces bugged out to. We're going after them, Volunteer only. If you want to stay here, with her, that's fine. No judgement."
 
"Why are you telling me? I'm a fuck up, and even I can't even see straight."
 
"We won't hit them until a month from now, Doc tells me you'll be fine by then, if you're careful and do what he says."
 
Drusa lay back down on the floor. I should be here,with her. She thought. Then the image of Cornelia, covered in gore, one arm hanging by a thread and the other holding in her guts came back, and with it came the rage. "I'll do it."
 
"I knew you wouldn't let me down. You're getting a promotion with it."
 
"What! How?"
 
"You think one mistake sinks you forever? No, you took charge out there, made hard choices. You've scored eight mech kills in the year we've been here. You know how many Legionnaires have matched that, Miss 34? Three others. Two of them are dead, and the other one is a Principes. Least I can do is bump you up to Centurion." He smiled weakly and looked out the window at the row of other prefabs. "Besides, someone has to step up, and I'm not exactly rolling in options here."
 
"One condition. When I get there, I want my mech. Firestarter. If we're gonna get revenge, I want to do it right."
 
Dash smiled down at her, a real one this time. "Deal. We leave in a week. Do what your doctors say until then."
 
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===Recounting Previous Events=== 
Military DropPort, Fort Angelescu
Pantelimon, Gypsum
Arcadian Free March
 
The Galatine rested comfortably behind Thomas and the other members of his company, now being ferried away by a transport bus to their quartering on Fort Angelescu. The complex was the home of what was now the Gypsum Division of the Free March Army, the planetary militia that went over when Gypsum defected to the Free March. It would be, at least for a time, the home of the Arcadian Guards and the Arcadian Rangers, who were slotted to spend the next three months on garrison duty with extended leaves.
 
He found that he already missed Angelina's presence. She'd been transferred to the same DropShip carrying Mark and the Umayrs to Arcadia. Without a need for a request she'd pledged to check in on Mark and let him know if anything changed. "Focus on your people, and let me handle your brother," she insisted.
 
Beside him Dani gazed ahead quietly. "Missing your cousin?" she asked.
 
"Hrm?"
 
"Captain Proctor-Grimke. You were always speaking to her. Now she's gone. Have any other friends in the regiment?"
 
"Oh, no, I'm afraid not," he said. "At least, none as close as we were. We often spent time together growing up, when she wasn't on Hyde at the Grimke estates. We came up through Ayrshire together too."
 
"Ah. And you went into the Arcadian Guards together?"
 
He grinned and shook his head. "No. I started in the Guards, but she was initially in the First Regiment. Made lance commander there before they transferred her at an available opening. We did make Company CO in the same year though."
 
"Second Regiment for me, at first," Dani confirmed. "For two years, then the Guards had a slot open and I was a top-testing candidate."
 
"Right."
 
The bus came up to the barracks… and kept going. Thomas and Dani exchanged glances before turning their attention to the driver. "Corporal, you've missed the stop."
 
"I've got orders, we're heading to the courtyard," the young woman said, her English accented in Gypsum style. "A press conference or something."
 
Thomas sighed. "Of course. It wouldn't been nice if van Reiter warned me at least."
 
"So we don't get to unwind in our new barracks because the locals want a chance to flaunt the Heir?" Dani shook her head. "Okay everyone, remember, you can't blame him, he wasn't involved."
 
"I'm never involved," Thomas protested. "It's always the media people who want me seen. They insist it drives up recruitment and the prestige of the family."
 
"They say that about every noble," Dani remarked dismissively. "It's not why people sign up. I mean, I guess it might help if they've got footage of you kicking Marian ass on Bolan."
 
"You exaggerate. That was not a one-sided fight."
 
He noted that Dani's response was a sly grin. "Not overall, but they weren't going to mess with the Guards after those initial fights. We hurt them every time they struck at us. You took down like eight 'Mechs yourself on the campaign."
 
"You got ten, I believe?"
 
"Depends, Machteld and I could be argued to have shared credit on that Stalker."
 
"Still…" Thomas chuckled. Occasionally he felt a bit of soldierly discomfort with Dani's relationship with Lt. Shameel, especially as the two women were giving up on trying to hide it, but he appreciated her spirit, and she was one of the best natural MechWarriors he'd ever met. He'd overlook some social impropriety for such a comrade, especially one as proven as she was.
 
The bus pulled up to the rear of a constructed stage in the fort's courtyard. The driver opened the door and they filed out.
 
The officers facing them included a dark-skinned woman with a Major's rank insignia and an officer sporting Major General insignia. Thomas led his company in saluting as they lined up. He noted that the Major's branch insignia was a shield overset by a pair of quilled pens, marking someone from Media Relations. The Major and General snapped reply salutes. "Captain Proctor, I'm Major Keisha Mackey," the woman said. "This is Major General Lord Anton Albescu, the commander of the Gypsum Division."
 
"General," Thomas answered correctly.
 
"Captain. I am sorry you were not warned, there was a miscommunication on the matter. His Grace is most eager to have the curiosity of our people, and the whole Inner Sphere, sated."
 
"I see." Major Kamau would have warned me and told me what I should say. A 'miscommunication' indeed. More like the Duke of Gypsum wants me to say something passionate and not approved by the Army. Thomas kept the suspicion from showing on his face. "Well, a few words can certainly not hurt, but I will only take limited questions."
 
"Of course, that's appropriate. Please, come."
 
The two officers led the pilots of Charlie Company up the steps to the stage and to the curtains. They were each handed a small microphone that would broadcast their voice over speakers, which Thomas thought a poor sign of what was to come.
 
It was as he feared. This wasn't just a dozen or so people but at least a hundred, of all colors and, by their dress, nationalities. Holocameras in the crowd and on the stage were undoubtedly broadcasting this across Gypsum and to the rest of the Free March, possibly the Inner Sphere as well. "Just smile and wave when prompted," he murmured to the others before fitting his microphone to his uniform lapel. "I'll handle this."
 
They lined up on the stage together in a line, Thomas not stepping forth. Major Mackey stepped up ahead of them. "Everyone, here they are. Charlie Company of the Arcadian Guards' Second Battalion, commanded by His Highness Prince Thomas, the Count of Roslyn." She stepped off to the wings of the curtain, leaving the stage to them.
 
"Greetings to you all," Thomas said, effecting his most proper English. Unlike his relatives who remained in Plymouth, his English was more of a refined, Anglo-Scot English, the accent of Roslyn and its English and Scots-descended residents. "I have no prepared statement, but my officers and I are prepared to take your questions." He remained silent afterward, prompting the questions to come.
 
"Lieutenant Verdes, will you accept a knighthood if it's offered? Do you think you might be given a title?"
 
"Lieutenant, the civilians, did they all make it through?"
 
"Is your machine destroyed? Did they repair that Marauder you defeated all those Marians with?"
 
"Are the Bolanese going to reward you as well, Lieutenant?"
 
"Lieutenant, a word on what it was like in the battle!"
 
Thomas' control briefly slipped. The universe seemed to have stepped out of tune. He glanced over at his subordinate and saw the complete shock on her face, her green eyes clouded from confusion and just trying to sort it out. "Uh…" She blinked. "I've no idea why I'd be made a knight or a noble, the civilians did make it through with some bumps and bruises I believe, my Marauder was banged up but is being repaired, nobody's told me anything about Bolanese rewards, and the battle was six weeks of fighting a lot of very angry slavers."
 
"Do you think the March-Princess made the right decision, sending you in?" asked another voice.
 
Dani's eyes flashed and, without pause, she announced, "Yes, she did, and we did the right thing. They had people in pens like animals, they forced them to piss and crap in buckets and eat slop you wouldn't give to anyone.. They were going to ship them to work to death in mines or God knows what else. We stopped that. Some of us died stopping it, and there's a lot of hunting families right now, but there's also a whole lot of Bolanese who aren't getting shipped off to be slaves. It was the right call."
 
The categorical announcement was echoed by nods of agreement from the others. "Your Highness, do you have anything to say about the Lieutenant's words? Or what happened?"
 
"She spoke for all of us," Thomas answered. "We went in to uphold the highest ideals of our Free March, the ideals my great-grandmother bequeathed to us all. And we succeeded about as well as we could have been expected to."
 
"Is there any news about Prince Mark?"
 
"My brother is alive last I heard. He is in bad shape, but the doctors are cautiously hopeful."
 
A few more questions came, most for Dani, until the conference ended. As they returned to the bus Dani shook her head. "What was up with that? I thought you'd be their focus, Captain."
 
"So did I."
 
"You didn't know?" asked Mackey.
 
Dani and Thomas turned their heads to face her. "Know what, ma'am?"
 
"Angus Campbell was recording that fight a couple days after you landed, when your company held off those Marians on the road," she explained. "The entire Inner Sphere watched you fighting like the devil to protect people. Your Marauder was the center of the action in the video, and someone did a close-up of the image and found your name on the machine." Mackey grinned at her. "I thought you'd have been told by now, but since you weren't… congratulations, Lieutenant Verdes. You're now the AFFM's golden girl for press relations."
 
Somehow, Dani wasn't reassured by that.
 
----- 
===Pleading an Allegiance=== 
Ducal Palace
Roslyn, Eastern Islay
Arcadia, Arcadian Free March
30 March 3034
 
The arrival of the DropShip Nightingale was the news across the capital. For many it was the camera coverage of Prince Mark, covered in bandaging, being transported to an ambulance for transfer to the Dr. Nancy Corey Military Hospital near the Esplanade of Laughlin. A few also noted footage of the arrival of the Umayrs of Bolan. The Grand Princess, her husband and three children, and her sister and brother and their families were all shown together, rescued from Bolan (and most of them from the Marian slave cages).
 
Sara-Marie had their rooms arranged and a scheduled meeting planned, but she didn't see them right away. Her first trip was to the hospital with her husband and youngest son to see Mark. She almost broke down weeping at seeing Mark so badly off. The doctors on the Gallatine and Liberator did their level best for him, which was why he was alive, but between the tissues that had to be removed due to coolant exposure and the damage to his limbs, he was going to lose at least two limbs and require months of careful surgery and wound care to gain any semblance of a life back. The doctors were fairly confident they could save his right leg, and the left arm might get salvaged. The other limbs were basically gone.
 
Once visitation was over, they returned to the palace, and Sara-Marie got to business. She received the visiting Umayrs in formal fashion, wearing her AFFM uniform for the occasion as most of them were in uniform. She'd only met Gita once before, over an extremely expensive real-time HPG call, and the battered woman before her was not the same as Sara-Marie met before. Her husband Mohinder held her hand and the others remained silent, waiting for either to speak. Sara-Marie, as host, went first. "Your Royal Highness, Your Highnesses and Lordships, welcome to Arcadia. It warms my heart to see you are all well and safe."
 
"Thank you, Your Serene Highness," Gita said. "We have said our prayers for the recovery of your son, Mark, and mourn your people lost in our rescue. They will be remembered with great fondness by the Bolanese people for centuries to come."
 
Sara-Marie nodded. 'Your people have safe refuge among us. The Duchess of Zvolen freely offers her world's island-continent of Pokorný for your settlement. The cities there are widely depopulated due to the remoteness from the rest of Zvolen's continents, but your people would find new homes there and revitalize the continent's economy. The whole planet would benefit."
 
"So it would," said Gita. "We accept. And that leaves the final matter." She stepped forward before getting on her knees before Sara-Marie. She lowered her head while her family followed her actions. "March-Princess Sara-Marie, daughter of the line of Sara Proctor the Liberator, I offer you my oath of fealty as the Grand Princess of Bolan. The Umayr family will serve House Proctor as loyal vassals."
 
Sara-Marie briefly eyed Lord Prestwick, but he said nothing to indicate he'd brought the matter up. But neither could be surprised by the gesture. The Umayrs were exiles, and their homes would be on territory that rightfully belonged to other rulers. Swearing fealty to House Proctor was the surest way to stabilize their position in the Free March, even if it guaranteed that upon liberation Bolan became part of the Free March, not an independent world. It will complicate matters somewhat with Duchess Jozefína, but she is counting on the Bolanese to revitalize her world's economy. I think she will accept the arrangement. She locked her eyes on Gita. "I, March-Princess Sara-Marie, the Duchess of Arcadia and sovereign ruler of the Free March, accept your oath of fealty, Your Highness. While you are no longer sovereign, the title of Grand Princess of Bolan and all related titles of your family are recognized as lawful. Your family and people are welcome in the Free March, and as noble citizens of the March, I bid you stand as free men and women, as is your right."
 
Gita and the others stood. Sara-Marie noted the expressions on them. Not everyone agreed, she suspected, knowing it spelled the end of their independence even were Bolan regained, but it was a remarkable acceptance of their weakened status.
 
"Now that I am your vassal, I have but one request concerning my forces," Gita said. "I ask your aid in replenishing their units, and that you allow for Bolanese command in some way or another."
 
"I will discuss the particulars with the Command Staff, but a way can surely be found," Sara-Marie replied. "For the time being, please, rest, and enjoy the hospitality of the palace."
 
"Again, we thank you for the hospitality,": said Gita, at which point the meeting ended.
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DRASCTIS 5