Tournament of Shadows - Part 02 (A Tale of the Outer Colonies)

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==Tournament of Shadows - The Outer Colonies Region==
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=== Tournament of Shadows - Part 02 (A Tale of the Outer Colonies)===
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Mount Longdon
Port Stanley
Outer Colonies
The Periphery
February 9th, 3066
Burred some two kilometres below the surface, the Planetary Defense Command Centre was protected by the highly stable geology in the area, which allowed for such deep excavation without risking a major seismic incident, as well as interwoven layers of armour plate and shock absorbing voids. The original post-construction report by the Star League Corps. of Engineers claimed it was designed to withstand multiple hits in the 500 kiloton range, or sustained bombardment by an orbiting warship. Just why they felt a bunker complex so far away from the Inner Sphere needed that kind of protection was unknown, but then they were never known for doing anything by half measures. Made up of not one but two full Castles Brians, as well as a number of underground tunnels connecting it to the Port Howard space-port and a number of outlying defensive bunkers and weapons emplacements, including surface-to-orbit missile and laser batteries, Mount Longdon also served as the central command node for the entire Outer Colonies Defense Force.
But the history of the place was of no interest to Helena Stark as she strode purposefully into General Kravinoff's personal office overlooking the main control room, the smart-window connecting the two opaque to allow some privacy.
"Viktor, if you're launching a military coup, then you can forget about that dinner party tomorrow night." At a little under 160cm, she was a good head and shoulders below the General's solid two meters of hard muscle, a physique she knew damn well he worked hard to keep, even if he now drove a desk rather than a suit of battle armour.
"No such luck, I am afraid." Kravinoff chuckled at his old friends joke, "For one thing, Lucy would kill me if I interfered in her social calendar for something as mundane as trying to grab power."
"Well, that's what you get for marring a Marine." Stark sat in one of the almost painfully hard chairs normally reserved for junior officers who had upset the base commander in some way, "So, why have you issued system-wide Code Ultraviolet?"
Never issued in a training exercise, Code Ultraviolet was the all-points alert to a significant danger that had yet to be fully identified. It had only been issued twice in the previous fifty years; once when a civilian transport suffered a near catastrophic miss-jump and appeared in the middle of a restricted military zone, and once when a particularly brave pirate band had attempted to sneak in the back-door of the New Tasmania system by arriving high above the main orbital plane, unaware that every one of the Outer Colonies was surrounded by a network of automated sensor drones that had picked up their arrival and sounded the alarm. Stark could vaguely remember reading about the latter in a newspaper when she was in high school, which just went to prove how long ago it had been.
"Five hours ago we received an ENIGMA pulse from Fort Dixie indicating that an unknown arrival in the 350,000 tone range had been detected in the Nadia jump-point, and that they had dispatched the Albion and the Robert MacKenzie to investigate." gone was the humour in the general's voice, replaced with the cool, calm professionalism that he had been known for through his years in uniform, "We've received no further signals since, not even an all clear indicating that it was just a sensor ghost." He pressed a button on his desk, and the smart window turned transparent to show the hive of activity that was the operations room, "As per standing orders, I've placed all units on a higher state of alert and begun recalling off-duty personnel. If no word is received within the next two hours, I will start activating militia units and order all military bases to move to a war-ready status."
"What are the chances that it's something benign?" Stark asked, knowing that the old war-horse behind the desk wouldn't try and sugar-coated bad news, "How are our defences?"
"The bulk of our forces are within standard oppositional parameters, but we do have a number of ships down for maintenance. Only a handful of our new-builds are on-line, with nothing in the yards we could feasibly push for fast deployment." The large landscape painting behind the General vanished, replaced by a map of the Outer Colonies, complete with icons to indicate military units and their status, "Our ground forces are better off; we've not started the switch out yet, so no units are down for re-raining. On the down side, our militia and reserve units are still using equipment left here by the Star League."
"It's been almost 250 years since the Wolverine's arrived, and we've never seen or heard hide nor hair of the other Clans: there's nothing to indicate that they even know we're out here, let alone that we took in the survivors of their attempted genocide." Stark shook her head, "The chances are they either forgot about us or figured that the chances of there being anything worth salvaging out here weren't worth the time and effort needed. In all the years since the fall of the Star League we've been visited by exactly two ships from the Inner Sphere, and both of them were Explorer Corps deep-range scouts. But something in the 350,000 tone range..." Her voice trailed off, "Maybe a Leviathan or a Monolith, or an extremely overladen Star Lord or Tramp, but anyone operating one of those legally would know that the Nadia jump-point is closed, and that even emergency traffic should try and make it to the old recharge station at the Zenith."
"Which, as far as I can tell, leaves us with two possibilities; it's either someone trying to sneak by unseen, or it's someone who doesn't know the local shipping lines." Kravinoff shrugged, "I'd say it might be the Wolverine's hiding something again, but if it was, why would General Hammerick issue the alert?"
"That's true; he's Of The Blood, so he'd know if there was anything clandestine going on in his system." Stark nodded, remembering the one time she had met Lieutenant General Ivan Hammerick, the commanding officer of the recently unveiled Gamma Galaxy. While he had absolutely no sence of humour that she had been able to detect and all the charm of a dead fish, he was a brilliant tactician and not prone to panicking over sensor ghost: if he had issued a Code Ultraviolet, then he had to be sure that there was something going on to warranted it.
Still, the very real if unlikely threat of an incursion by Clan forces hung over the heads of every citizen of the Outer Colonies. Even ignoring those who were in any way descended from the Wolverines, the very origin and nature of the Outer Colonies would most likely be anathema to the followers of Nicholas Kerensky's twisted vision of humanity. Stark was wise enough to realise that her people views of the Clans was somewhat tainted by the stories passed on by the surviving Wolverines, but what little information had made it out all the way from the Inner Sphere since their grand invasion did little to stem those fears. If anything, the modern Clans were worse than they had been under the leadership of Nicholas: they had become an insatiable hunger that could only be sated by blood and conquest. Long gone were the noble ideals of the Star League, replaced by a perverted warriors code that held martial prowess above all else. They spoke of the honour of single combat while they crushed innocent civilians under their boots, of high ideals while their warships rained down fire upon defenseless worlds.
By contrast, the Outer Colonies stood as a beacon of law and justice in the dark night, a place where the strong defended the weak, where a soldier knew that their first duty was to protect, not rule. They were a nation with an army, not a hoard of barbaric killers ruling over their surfs like at best slaves, and at worst cattle. While the Colonies were far from perfect, they at least held to the idea that all were equal, with inalienable right and the freedom to chose their own path in life. Ideals that Stark was sure had been held by Aleksandr Kerensky, a man who's name was still considered near sacred by many, despite what his son had done.
Maybe if Andery had survived...
The intercom built into the desk bleep, ending Stark's philosophical meandering, and Kravinoff pressed the revive command, "Yes?"
"Sorry to disturb you, Sir, but we're reviving a Priority A hyper-pulse transmission from Rorke's Drift." The young captain serving as his aide-de-camp reported, "It's from saKahn Mroczkiewicz: she says she needs to talk to you."
"Why am I not surprised that Hammerick would report to her before you?" Stark asked dryly.
"Put her through." The general ignored the jib.
The screen behind his desk switched to a spinning Cameron Star insignia for a moment, then was replaced by a field of static while the decryption software synced with the incoming transmission, a sign that it was more that just a social call. When it finally cleared, Mary Mroczkiewicz, leader of the planet Rorke's Drift and Sectary of Defence for the entire Outer Colonies appeared before them. Her now honorary uniform was slightly ruffled and a faintly haunted look in her eyes indicating that it had been a while since she'd last slept, yet she still radiated the same professionalism that had marked her military service before she had entered politics.
"Ah, I'm glad you're there Helena; that's one less call I have to make." She managed a faint smile, "I've just finished speaking to General Hammerick: we can stand down from Code Ultraviolet."
"Another sensor ghost?" Kravinoff asked, "I've been pushing for the money to update that system for years."
"No, there was an incursion, but it doesn't sound like it's something we have to worry about just yet." Mroczkiewicz composed herself, "There was some confusion at first: the ship that arrived is a previously unknown design, which worried the officers on scene. However, they saw the logic in surrendering to a Cruiser and a Frigate, and our marines boarded in full battle armour, just in case. They were able to ascertain that the ship is an Odyssey class transport originally built and operated by Clan Smoke Jaguar." There was no hiding the anger in her words there, "But it was captured when this second Star League the Inner Sphere put together ripped through them like a fright train, and had since become the property of an independent commercial operation called Interstellar Expeditions, who renamed her the Far Horizon. They apparently contract to people like the Explorer Corps to conduct deep-range exploration and to seek out lost outposts."
"Well, they certainly found that." Stark snorted, at least a little amused, "Any indication that they weren't alone?"
"No, they seem to have been operating independently." Mroczkiewicz shook her head, "We also captured her DropShip's: a pair of Mules, a battered Union and a equally aged Leopard. But the main prize the Horizon herself; she's a little over a hundred years old, and as such represents a key insight into Clan technological development since my ancestors were forced to flee. I know our own newer weapons are at least a step up from what the Star League had, but there's always the possibility that those bastards came up with something we missed."
"You have a point." Kravinoff nodded, "Still, we need to handle this carefully: the last thing we want is people panicking in the streets across more than a dozen worlds."
"Indeed, that would be less than optimal, but if we're going to take that ship apart to find out what makes it tick, we'll need to get it to a shipyard." Stark looked up at Mroczkiewicz, "Think you can sneak one more ship into the yard of yours while we round up the brain trust?"
"I think we can manage that." Mroczkiewicz nodded with a coy smile, "And I have to admit to a certain degree of pleasure at the idea of ripping something those fools built apart so I can use their own advances against them."
"Take it down to the keel, then melt that down and run it through a spectral analyzer for all I care." Stark nodded in agreement, "Let's get it done quickly and we might be able to use anything we learn in the upgrade program."
The End
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;Notes from the Author : This isn't going to be a story in the traditional sense; more a series of interconnected shorts.
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19
Category:Short Stories
Category:Works by Starbug