SotU3 Chpt 4

=Chapter 4=
==State of the Union - Book 3==
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Port St. William, Coventry
Coventry Province, Federated Commonwealth
May 2nd, 3067
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Conner had been delayed a little by heavy traffic - the military reservation adjacent to Port Saint William was bustling as dropships moved supplies and equipment to and from the supply warehouses there. As a critical military command and logistical node, Coventry was bearing more of the burden than expected and comparatively last minute changes to deployments were hitting the port hard.
The valet took his rental car away, and the young man paused at the hotel door, self-consciously checking his reflection in the glass doors before approaching. It was a little strange to see the Steiner blue tunic instead of the Davion bottle-green he’d been accustomed to wearing in the Royal Guards.
The doorman smoothly swept the door open in front of Conner, parsing the details of his uniform without even seeming to look at it. “Can I help you with anything, Kommandant?” he asked, ushering Conner inside and out of the wind.
“I’m dining with my sister - Brigadier Sortek?”
“Of course, sir. I believe the Brigade General is waiting for you in the bar.”
There must be hundreds, if not thousands of people coming in and out of the Hotel Grande everyday. The doorman being able to keep up with them - even with the help of a very discreet earbud - impressed Conner more than a little. It reminded him of some of the NCOs that kept the Fifth Royal Guards running for - and occasionally despite - the officers.
Terias Sortek was sitting on a bar-stool, the girly looking cocktail before her in contrast to her military bearing. Conner knew from personal experience that the drink was probably as deceptive as his slender sister (who had a kick like a mule).
“I didn’t keep you waiting long, did I?” Conner asked
She turned her head sharply at the sound of his voice and then smirked at him. “Well, you do need the extra time to make yourself pretty. Still, you’re pretty sharp tonight, Katriel.”
“You know that’s not my name.”
“Mother calls you that all the time.” Terias told him
“That was her mistake from the beginning, Tessa.”
She raised her glass in salute. “Truce, little brother. Call yourself whatever you like.”
Conner moved over to the stool next to her. “Thanks. Traffic was bad.”
“I was wondering if the chief was going to drag out your exit interview, try to change your mind. Even with a promotion…” Terias shrugged.
He shook his head in disagreement. “He wasn’t trying to get rid of me, but I think he was pleased I went for it. Said he looked forward to seeing me make my name there.” Like Terias, he didn’t drop the name of who exactly had said that. Even in the Hotel Grande, name dropping the Archon-Prince would get a lot of attention and it might not all be good.
His sister looked thoughtful. “I’ve heard some…” She paused and shook her head before changing the subject. “So are you taking your ‘Mech with you? It might be a bit large for them.”
Conner grinned. “Any ‘Mech must look large from inside your battle armor.”
“Not if I’m standing on top of it.” she told him
“Ha.” The young kommandant touched his chest as if recognizing a fencing hit. “No, I’ll be getting something to fit better with their line-up. They’ve got some new equipment arriving to fill the gaps of…” He lowered his voice almost without realizing it, “the Defection.”
“You know,” she said, suddenly solemn. “that’s what the Kell Hounds called it when Morgan Kell vanished back in 3016. Do you really want to call it that?”
“It’s better than calling it ‘the divorce’.” he told her
Right then, the maitre’d crossed over into the bar and approached them. “Brigade General, Kommandant. Your table is ready when you are.”
Terias picked up her glass and left her stool, signalling she was ready now and they crossed into the hotel’s highly rated restaurant in silence.
The Defection, Conner thought. That would be his enemy for the next few years, far more than the Clans or anyone else. With the massive reinforcements in the area, the Coventry garrison was unlikely to see action but the Eighth Deneb Light Cavalry RCT would have to interact with the rest of the AFFC almost every day.
There had been rumors for over a year, but it had still come as a shock when a letter signed by hundreds of AFFC personnel had reached the Archon-Prince declaring their intention to resign their commissions and apply to join the SLDF. That, in and of itself, would have been notable only for its scale… but they had also requested to take their regimental colors with them and that was another matter entirely.
In the end it was only the Fourth Deneb Light Cavalry RCT that saw the bulk of its membership elect to make that step, but they were the leading element of the entire corps and their lineage went right back to the SLDF soldiers who’d first pledged themselves to House Davion after their comrades departed in the Exodus. Both their remaining sister Regimental Combat Teams had been decimated by those heeding the same call. And, in the eyes of many of their peers, that left them marked by the same air of disloyalty.
“I considered moving the remaining members of the Fourth across to fill the gaps in the Green Leopards and the Blur-Cheetahs,” Peter had confided to Conner, referring to the Eighth and Twelfth Deneb Light Cavalry, as they discussed his transfer out of the Fifth Royal Guards. “But I think that if I did that then they’d keep shrinking.”
Two RCTs wouldn’t be much left out of what had been six in recent memory, Conner had to agree. Instead, Peter had agreed to transfer the colors of the Fourth and of the defunct Tenth Deneb Light Cavalry to the SLDF, as well as agreeing to sell much of their equipment - and then he’d assigned what remained of the Fourth to their traditional homeworld of Deneb Kaitos and sent them the colors of the lost Fifth Deneb Light Cavalry - along with first priority to claim AFFC recruits from the world towards rebuilding the Fifth to its former glory.
That would take years though. In the meantime, the Eighth and Twelfth would need to replenish their own losses with transfers from other units and show that they could uphold the honor of their traditions. If they couldn’t, then there was little chance that resources would be made available to re-establish other lost commands from the Deneb Light Cavalry. It would literally be a fight for the survival of the corps.
“I almost wish we were still being posted out facing the Periphery.” he confided to Terias, once the soup course was served. “If we see some action then it’ll help the transferred staff gel with the existing membership. And a few pirates probably wouldn’t be too bad.”
“The problem with trial by fire is that fire burns, little brother.” She gave him a thoughtful look. “At least you’re not in Skye… I didn’t want to say in the bar, but there were rumors that the Eighth was a little too close to Robert Kelswa-Steiner.”
“Where did you hear that?”, he asked her
The infantry woman shrugged. “I had a natter with the Second Royal Guards’ infantry leadership after they were posted to Donegal.”
“I think that accusation sticks to everyone who’s been stationed in Skye these days.” Conner muttered. “Hopefully he’s out of reach here.” It was too much to hope that the claim was entirely baseless.
“Yes. And to be fair, Coventry is a good posting for rebuilding.” Terias noted. “I’m guessing your new ‘Mech will come right off Coventry Metal Works production.”
“No, it’s a Wolfhound.” he corrected her. “We will be getting twelve new Commandos, more Wolfhounds… and one of the shipments crowding up the port should be twelve new Valkyries as well.”
Terias blinked. “I didn’t think your new regiment was that short of ‘Mechs?” It was the better part of an entire battalion of replacements, almost a third of the regiment.
“We’re not.” Conner grinned slightly. “Some older and smaller ‘Mechs will be handed down to the planetary militia. Thomas Bradford was a bit unhappy that our assignment was switched with the Third Coventry Strikers.” The Dukes of Coventry had been a major supporter of the royal dynasty since Katrina Steiner’s day, with the current duke having backed Victor to the hilt four years before. Peter Steiner-Davion’s visit was one way to cement that bond.
“I guess you’ll need to win him over.” She finished her soup and dropped her spoon in the bowl. “And if you won’t have pirates to fight, I’m sure that the Fourteenth Donegal Guards will be happy to run training exercises against you.”
The Fourteenth Donegal Guards wasn’t widely considered to be one of AFFC’s elite units but under the leadership of Adam Steiner they’d managed to make their mark of late. With the general now elevated to command all the forces in Coventry Province, they’d make up the other half of the garrison force of the provincial capital.
“I expect they will.” Conner reached over to the breadbasket and picked up a roll, tearing it open and using it to wipe up the dregs of the soup from the bowl.
Terias gave him a sour look. “Mother would have something to say about your table manners.”
“This is really nice soup!” he protested.
She sighed heavily. “Barbarian.”
“You’re just spoiled by the chief’s refined royal manners.”, he playfully told his sister
“His manners aren’t all that refined.” she said absently.
“Oh, were you watching for that?” he asked slyly.
Conner was only joking, but Terias froze for a moment before laughing at his jibe. “Well now that you’re out of the Guards, I’m the only Sortek there to keep him out of trouble.”
“It’s a big job.” he replied, not quite as quickly as he’d have liked as he tried to guess at what lay behind his big sister’s reaction. “Try to get his manners fixed up before the next Whitting Conference, we don’t want him embarrassing the Federated Commonwealth.”
“I didn’t say Peter was that bad either.”
I’m probably reading too much into this, Conner thought. Terias was a little older than Peter - it was a family joke that the Sorteks and the Steiner-Davions had alternated children for almost a decade - and he knew that they’d met fairly often as children. But it was funny. “Yeah, plus keeping the gold diggers away from him is probably more important than his manners.”
His sister’s eyes narrowed dangerously at that prospect. “Talk about vicious battlefields!” she almost spat.
“Is something wrong?” the waiter approaching to collect their dishes asked nervously, apparently spotting her body language.
“Just the conversation touching on an unfortunate subject.” Conner reassured him, seeing his sister’s cheeks coloring at being caught in her heated reaction. Maybe I’m not reading too much into it after all...
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