HGE Chpt 5

=- Hegemony - Chapter 5 - Day 5=
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===Outcomes and Proposals===
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Day 5
Caesar's Palace, Alphard
Marian Hegemony
November 26th, 3162
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Exhaustion and satisfaction combined with the sedatives (confirmed by a physician assigned to the Household Staff) to see him sleep in for the first time since the assassination, waking with a sore back and difficulty keeping his eyes open. The blessings of a warm shower and time to wake up slowly more than made up for the added downtime, in his opinion, as he concentrated on removing the trauma of the last week from his soul.
 
Feeling clean and refreshed, he came out of the bathroom to find Lucius awaiting him as the Staff bustled around the Atrium and felt himself start to close up. A glance at the kitchen clock quickly confirmed the reason why, and he turned into the wardrobe to pull on the casual clothes left out for him before nodding to Lucius as he walked quickly to his office for the first appointment of the day. Settling in and preparing himself for the scheduled call, he was ready when the complicated-looking phone rang and the Office secretary announced Mr. and Mrs. Meyer were ready.
 
"Good morning, Caesar!" Came the dry greeting as he activated the small speaker. "You can call me Brian; my wife is Joyce. I understand you're having a hard time understanding our reports?"
 
"They seem backwards to me", Cyrus admitted as he leaned back in the comfortable chair. "I don't understand a tenth of it."
 
"Well, let's start at the beginning, then," came the prompt reply. "Joyce?"
 
"Good morning, Caesar. How far back do you want to go?" 
 
Cyrus grimaced, turning to the small filing cabinet behind the desk. "Do you have a copy of the original familiarization document your husband sent me?"
 
"Here," came the faint reply as Cyrus pulled out the file of correspondence received from the Ministry. "Thanks, Hon. So, let's take this one bite at a time…"
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With the teleconference over, Cyrus leaned back in satisfaction. His father, against all odds, seemed to have stolen top-flight talent from the Lyran Commonwealth]looking to flee the renewed Clan Invasion, although Cyrus had no intention of reversing his decision to seek other advisors. Even better, the Meyers seemed determined to promote his planned reforms, moving further away from a planned economy to favor a more capitalist-oriented system.
The interview, failure that it was, had interested them. His announcement of increased emphasis on education and the need to render slavery economically undesirable had thrilled them; they had long ago come to the conclusion it was uneconomical and unsustainable. Within a decade of establishing programs to train a domestic workforce to the standards of the Inner Sphere, they forecasted the tradition would dwindle to the point it would be feasible to outlaw it across the Hegemony without major political ramifications. Best of all, the taxes raised by an aggressive collection of the overdue tax debts tracked by the Ministry of Finance would cover the expense nicely. New to his rank or not, the Patricians would find themselves on the losing end of the stick if they sought to rouse public opinion against it, as the existing slaves were offered apologies and compensation, as well as citizenship or relocation as they desired.
 
Coupled with the increase in taxable assets and the sale of materials and property abandoned to the state in the Silent City, he might even see a major sum turned into tax breaks and incentives to boost the stalled economic development of industries able to produce modern equipment and weapons as companies were compelled to build manufacturing sites within the Hegemony to serve domestic markets – strengthening the economy as he hoped to lure worlds in the deeper Periphery to ally themselves with the Hegemony.
 
I guess the interview wasn't a total mistake after all, he thought soberly. But to be manipulated so easily...
 
Jackson had started off saying the right things, digging into the nuances of his statements, gradually turning up the heat until Cyrus had forgotten his formal rhetoric and found himself using slang and trading slurs and insults right back at his interviewer, his Family, ABC in general… About the only thing he hadn't disparaged had been the military. Felix's review of the debacle had been savage; it reminded him of Hell Week, when he had first arrived with the other new students to the Collegium Bellorum Imperium to find Instructors who could make perfectly clear what they thought of you without raising their voice and flay you to the bone without a word that couldn't be spoken in public.
 
With an effort, he shook off the embarrassment he felt and put his notes and reference documents back in the cabinet. The late start and rambling discussion had taken the rest of the morning, and as he left the office, he decided to offer the Meyers the opportunity to move up in the capital's social circle by inviting them to his table at some upcoming formal function. Gerald seemed intent on trying to salvage ATC's position on military production, making his political support questionable in the future.
 
As he tore into the delicious meal prepared by the Staff, Lucius had good news awaiting him, providing updates on his father's former allies over an early lunch. Effeil had continued tracing Flamen's electronic trail backwards through his use of overrides and records of deleted or hidden files dating back several years, and David had confirmed the death of his only son serving in III Legio around that time in exchange for leniency before the courts.
 
 'Leniency from the courts,' Cyrus thought gleefully. Not from me. It shouldn't be hard to argue for a court-martial. In which case…
 
Flamen had a daughter, too - Cecilia – he had sent her home to be raised by her mother's family. Checking the picture attached to the file, he confirmed it had really been her. And that explains that. Flamen must have trained her, then used the overrides in The Motte to build a cover identity.
 
His lunch was brought to a sudden end as Effeil burst into the Atrium, the older man striding angrily across the room with a grim look on his face as Lucius trailed more sedately behind him.
 
"Bad news?" Cyrus asked.
 
"Something came up.", Effeil said quietly as he sat at the table, schooling his features to something noncommittal.
 
Cyrus frowned. That was the phrase they had decided to use for topics they needed to use The Motte to discuss freely.
 
"The Delatura Militaria knows nothing about anything we discussed," Effeil said as Lucius came up beside them. "Flamen covered his tracks too well. Whatever they found, we're back to square one."
 
"I see." Cyrus pondered the outcome for a moment, then shrugged. "We'll discuss it at the next meeting of the Consilium Securitatis." Whatever had been discovered about the core, he was fairly certain Flamen had lacked the clearances necessary to handle it himself. He doubted the Hegemony had enough expertise to fully examine the Core, anyway. The AsRoc had earned a reputation as a frighteningly efficient and thorough organization. Where would they find specialists in such things..?
 
Cyrus nodded his head firmly. "I have a few ideas how to proceed, but that will have to wait." Tapping the folder, he added, "What are we to do with the assassin?" Effeil and Lucius looked at each other for a moment, uncertain, as Cyrus pushed his chair back from the table to stand.
"Release the body to her family.", he instructed the two men in a quiet voice. "Explain the circumstances and the need for secrecy, then apologize for the condition of the body, and provide some sort of cover story for her death. I can't think of any way or reason to benefit from any of this. If it got out, it could destroy the Family's reputation, and I want their support."
 
Lucius nodded as Effeil stood and moved into the kitchen to call his subordinates with new instructions, and Cyrus closed the folder and secured it for Lucius to return it to Effeil's office. The two men were expected in another meeting soon, and Cyrus waited patiently as Effeil finished and signed off to join him as he crossed the Atrium.
 
"Ready?"
 
Effeil shrugged. "All my military training is incidental, and if it wasn't for yearly proficiency tests I'd have no experience in the last ten years at least. I don't know what expertise I can offer compared to serving personnel."
 
"Hmm", Cyrus grunted. "Sometimes, an outside viewpoint can be helpful. Gets you out of your office, at least."
 
The escort was waiting for them, and the two men accompanied them to one of the larger cubicula in the Palace. Accepting salutes from the Guards, he found Horace grinning like ass in front of most of the Legion's command staff awaiting him. Accepting their salutes and climbing the Dais to stand behind the familiar lectern, he examined the agenda Horace had prepared as Effeil crossed the room to take a chair. Next to the Lectern, Hector's chair sat empty as he waited for Cyrus to start the meeting.
 
He's been busy, Cyrus noted. 'RL(S)'? 'Refit schedules'? 'Provinciae Subsidia Militaria'? Looks like he has the bit between his teeth.
 
Taken aback, Cyrus glanced up from the lectern, noticing for the first time the number of young grey Cadet uniforms packed into the upper ranks of the room. What's going on here?
 
"Imperator?" Cyrus asked, holding up the briefing notes from the lectern in front of him. "Can you explain all this? I expected a policy briefing, not…" Cyrus fumbled for a description before adding, "Proposals?"
 
Seeing Horace still smirking up at him, he felt his eyes narrow. "Horace.. What have you done, now?"
 
"Well," Horace started. "Those recruits-" He waved at the upper row of seating in the conference room. "Heard the scuttlebutt about the new trailer concept you described and wanted to try it. So, they mocked up an armored trailer, and mounted a couple dummy RL-10s in it and it worked."
 
"So, they took a couple SRM launchers, and did the same thing. It still worked, but they couldn't get enough launchers to fill it. So, they ripped the guts out of some of the dummy RL-10s, and reworked them fire SRMs, instead. Instead of ten rockets, we think a RL-10 could conceivably five SRMs, and a RL-20 a maximum of ten, for no increase in size or mass." 
 
"And it works..?", he asked
 
"Very well, Caesar."
 
Cyrus sat down, bemused. "How did Cadets manage to do this? Who helped them?"
 
"Mr. August Whitby of Techwizards supplied the framework.", Horace replied. "…That's his son, up there in the middle."
 
The Cadets began pulling one of their number out of his seat and clapping as Cyrus tried to hide a grin.
 
Cyrus leaned back in amusement. The Cadets had spent an enormous amount of effort without more than an idea and a shoestring. How do I encourage this?
 
"Alright," Cyrus said thoughtfully. "You brought this to me - what, exactly, are you planning here?"
 
"We're planning to establish a new corporation," Cyrus said proudly. "'Techwarriors', to make prototypes of promising concepts developed by Cadets at CBI with technical advisors supplied by the school. If a project is taken up for further development by the Hegemony or private industry, students earn a cash bonus and royalties!"
 
Well. That should do it, alright. "I see," he said thoughtfully. Looking up at the Cadets, he continued. "Alright, your proposal has my support. We can settle the details later."
 
The Cadets erupted into cheers, and Cyrus watched them in amusement as they fell silent.
 
"We might want to extend the same privilege to serving members of the Legiones Marianes. Perhaps they'll surprise us." Horace suggested.
 
"Perhaps. Next?"
 
Horace grinned. "I've decided to remove the Rocket Launchers from some of our common 'Mech refits", he said proudly. "I've never agreed with a single-shot weapon on something as valuable and well-armored as a 'Mech, so authorized conversion kits are being planned. Individual Warriors and commanding officers will have a say, depending on availability and role. The Launchers will be sent to stockpiles to supply the trailers still under development."
 
"I agree," Cyrus said firmly. What the hell were designers thinking of, anyway? These are the kinds of weapons that belong on the drones I'm hoping to develop. "Next?"
 
"The 'Provincial Military Reserve'. We're planning ahead for the Primitive 'Mechs we want to pull from front-line service, pairing them with modern vehicles and artillery", Horace explained. "We want to retire the Cohors Morituri concept of exposing criminals and prisoners to combat, putting them under control of Section D with the existing special forces teams. I think there will be enough Primitives and supporting armored vehicles for a pair of Cohorts – garrison forces providing additional security for high-profile facilities or worlds that need more defenders."
 
Cyrus considered the matter, paging idly through the briefing as he thought furiously. We can't seriously keep saluting a flag drawn by a cartoonist, he thought. The question is whether the military accepts it.
 
"Keep the official title", he said finally. "Offer the troops the option of adopting the nickname and insignia as their Standard." It's a proud name, a romantic name - with a lot of tradition behind it. I'll bet they do. And it might soften the morale impact of being reassigned to such a unit.
 
"The Consilium Securitatis has met and accepted your arguments; an expansionist policy aimed at worlds in the Barbaricum has some merit, especially with intelligence reports from the Observationis Externum and Delatura Militaria providing a basis for your suspicions. The sale of surplus Primitive Battlemechs and Ravager Battlearmor to allies considering joining the Hegemony would be an excellent way to bring them into our field of influence, and units from the Reserve could be used to provide temporary garrisons in the region if we can convince them to join us."
 
Cyrus fixed his brother with a gimlet stare; he had been waiting eagerly to learn whether the Council would agree with his assertion that the Ravager was out of date and needed to be replaced. The Marauder, although an effective Assault Battle Armor was too slow for the kinds of fast-moving attacks the rest of the MHAF had come to embrace. The Ravager was difficult to move, relying on dedicated vehicles – Or trailers, he realized. – and its weapon's load was uninspired, with Rocket Launchers and a Heavy Recoilless Rifle. Not to mention it was put into production in 3084.
 
Which is why the Spartacus Project is looking for a replacement.
 
Cyrus nodded jerkily. Despite taking advantage of the proliferation of modern equipment for sale since Gray Monday to purchase a variety of equipment, the Legions had learned better than to rely on outside sources of supply for equipment. A replacement incorporating advanced technology now more widely available to the Hegemony could be designed elsewhere, but domestic production was the only acceptable option.
 
"Next?"
 
"ASF production is scheduled to increase drastically at HMI. We're looking into how to take advantage of the new designs, including the Nike, Primitive ASF. So far, the Council advises attaching modern designs to Ala assigned to front-line units and assigning Nikes to Wings used for garrisons in the Barbaricum. Production will put a pair of modern Ala in training formations to provide added security for the HMI plant – at their expense - until their upgraded security arrangements are approved."
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===Confronting Traitorist Sister===
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The memory of his failed interview and the need to keep the situation at arm's length seemed to demand the formality of speaking from the Dais as his sister and lover were escorted to one of the formal audience chambers of the Palace. With Director Effeil in his customary dark suit and Horace in his dress uniform of the Legions before him and the Praesidii Praetoris flanking the Dais and the single door to the cubicula, the three men waited to receive the prisoners.
 
All eyes turned to the door as the clanking chains on the two women announced their presence and the murmured conversations in the room were silenced as Helena entered in a prisoner's chains with the chest-length light veil of a spit hood and her armored escort's hand on her shoulder, forcing her forward. A rumble of conversation accompanied Meilin's entrance, the reverence held for the Hegemony military making her the more despised of the two women. Escorted to stand before the Dais, Helena's chains rattled violently as she tried to resist the armored Guard who pushed her unceremoniously into place, Meilin taking her place beside her.
 
Reluctant to proceed, Cyrus hesitated long enough for Helena to break the silence.
"So, it was you, was it? The thought of forcing the people to bow before you too much to resist?" The hatred in Helena's voice shocked him. "I'm your sister for God's sake, why am I in chains?" she hissed, shaking the chains restraining her arms hard enough to pull at her neck and echo through the chamber. "Are you afraid of me so much?"
 
Struggling to keep his face impassive, he rose to his feet and took the single step to the lectern beside the Dais without answering. Keeping his eyes on the Lectern, he pressed the controls to project the prepared video clip of a Guard trying to urge Helena from her cell in the Palace detention center on the wall behind him. Cyrus didn't need to watch; Helena's useless attempt to overpower the Guard and the need for the veil were self-explanatory. As the monitor built into the Lectern went dark and he turned off the projection, Cyrus spoke for the first time, looking at the two women.
 
"Release the prisoners."
The Guards spent a few moments assisting them, the restraints unlocked at their backs and the cables pulling the chains taut at their hands and feet relaxed to remove them. More a ceremonial representation of the wearer's status than actual restraints, they seemed relieved nonetheless to be free of them as the guards stored them in pouches hidden in their armor. Stepping aside from the Lectern, he moved to the edge of the Dais and addressed the Asian woman first.
 
"Meilin Neal-Zhao. For your professional misconduct treating serving members of the Legiones Marianes, I deny you your medical license to practice in the Marian Hegemony. As Caesar, I order you expelled from the Hegemony immediately." he announced stiffly. "Do you have anything to declare before me, and the representatives of the Senate?"
 
"No, Caesar."
 
Damn it, Mei., Cyrus thought angrily, turning to his sister. What did you think would happen?
 
"Helena O'Reilly. You stand accused of colluding with sympathizers working with, and for, known Canopian Intelligence operatives. Do you have anything to declare before me, and the representatives of the Senate?"
 
Helena was silent for a moment, jaw tensing and flexing as she fought to restrain her temper as agreed. Cyrus had urged Horace to convince his twin she stood on the edge of being sentenced to execution before entering the chamber; it was difficult enough to accept his own sister had betrayed them, but the stilted language of the message she had used the Palace communications system to send to her co-conspirators had given them enough warning to disappear. If she was able to take responsibility for her actions and keep her temper, he had promised to see her safely exiled with enough blood money to graduate a Mechwarrior from the Canopian Institute of War.
 
"No.", she spat angrily. Good enough, Cyrus thought in relief.
 
Taking care to keep his face expressionless, he spoke the words to confirm her punishment. "As Caesar… I order you executed for this betrayal of your House and the State. Sentence to be carried out immediately."
 
"Caesar," objected Horace, turning to face him. "She is a member of our House."
 
Dropping to one knee and bowing his head in respect, he continued. "I beg you to reconsider."
 
Cyrus nodded. Well done, Horace. "Granted. Helena, I order you expelled from our House and the Hegemony immediately, on pain of death."
 
Spared the indignity of watching their sibling executed, Horace regained his feet as Cyrus turned to return to the curule chair behind him on the Dais. Finding Lucius in the crowd he gave a curt nod the other man returned before throwing open a concealed side door on the floor of the cubicula. The presence of a formal Signifier marching into the silent chamber preceding Lady Fiona with a uniformed escort beside her surprised no one, her normally revealing clothing replaced with somber Hegemony-style formal robes and her hair held in a tight bun behind her. Cyrus stood once again in respect as she walked into the chamber, and nodded in acknowledgement as she stopped beside the Signifier to curtsey, then advanced two more paces to stand before the Dias.
 
"Ambassador."
 
"Caesar." she said quietly.
 
"These individuals seek your protection, having been exiled from the Hegemony. Will you receive them?"
 
"Yes, Caesar."
 
Finally! Cyrus exulted. 
 
"Then I consign them to your care." Turning back to the two women, he added, "They have leave to remain at your embassy, but must leave the Hegemony as soon as possible, or face the consequences."
 
Despite himself, Cyrus choked on the next sentence, taking a moment before he could trust his voice not to break. "Thank you for your assistance in this matter."
 
Perhaps aware of the strain he was under, the Ambassador offered the same curtsey before retreating to stand beside her escort once again, as Cyrus nodded to the Signifier in dismissal. Leading the Ambassador's party from the chamber, the two women turned to follow close behind as the Guards trailed them once again. Meilin looked straight ahead, head high. Helena, however, turned to stare at the three men as she left the cubicula, her face distorted with anger and hatred until she turned resolutely ahead, marching angrily out of the room.
 
As Lucius sealed the door behind them. Cyrus stepped down from the Dias, pausing to accept the bows and salutes of the room before walking calmly from the room, Effeil and Horace in tow.
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===Outlook to prepare for the Future===
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The small bottle was nearly empty, and Cyrus refilled the small glasses on the table for the last time. He normally avoided alcohol, but tonight had been wrenching enough he felt nothing else would be fitting. Horace, underaged and already looking like he wanted to avoid alcohol for the rest of his life, took it gingerly. Donald, on the other hand, threw it back and watched amusedly as the two men tried sipping from them.
 
"I just wanted to slap her," Horace said moodily. "I couldn't get through to her that what she was doing was wrong, just wrong. The rest of her Century are almost as bad."
 
Donald nodded. "They'll be watched. I'm surprised you'd take the risk of letting them stay, Cy."
 
Cyrus shrugged. "They'll be watched and they can fill the shoes of more reliable soldiers elsewhere, instead of throwing their potential in the trash. I don't want to jeopardize the loyalty of their Families and friends at CBI over this."
 
He had sent handwritten notes to the four Cadets expressing his admiration for their loyalty to the Hegemony, advising them their careers were being watched, for good or ill. He supposed they could still choose to drop out rather than choosing to try and excel, but his hands were clean.
"That seems wise of you." ventured the fourth man at the table. He had refused the offer of a stiff drink politely but firmly; in his mind, he was still on duty.
 
Lucius smiled. "Considering the uproar at ATC among investors. You may need all the good will from your Patrician allies you can find."
 
"They can read a prospectus." Cyrus said as he lifted his glass to finish the strong whiskey. "They'll understand that if the Hegemony isn't buying, the company loses money. Sooner or later, they'll fall over themselves to salvage their investment, and the company will dig into their coffers to modernize or find another customer. I expect the Family will scream, but go along with taking a controlling share of the spin-off. We might even make a profit and modernize it ourselves."
 
"How?" Horace asked in a skeptical tone. "Modern 'Mechs turn them into hamburger."
 
"Think of technology as a bullseye." Cyrus said, shrugging. "The Clans are in the center right now. The rest of the Inner Sphere is a step down. The Periphery is the outside ring. Primitives belong outside that."
 
"We'll use ours as a reserve or sell them to worlds without any and unaffiliated with larger groups. They get defense, we get cash sales, we raid them, they buy replacements. We offer trade agreements, thermal power plants, medical care, protection, education, food, Hegemony membership… And another world falls into our pockets without a life lost, and all the infrastructure they paid us for will become ours. They'll even pay taxes for the rest of their lives and think they got a good deal."
 
"Don't get caught.", cautioned Effeil. "I don't want to be responsible for stamping out a guerrilla war."
 
"I'll sell Letters of Marque," Cyrus said nonchalantly. "Piracy is a business. Fencing stolen goods, too. Eventually, we'll want to eliminate the competition."
 
"Sounds like you have it all planned out," said Horace. He picked up his glass and slugged back the remains of his glass and made a face. "History again?"
 
"Yeah."
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Day 5