EMCOTS-2 2

=Emergence (Concertverse) Book 2 - Chapter 2=
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==Difficult Questions==
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===Arguments About the Mission===
AFS Lady Noelle Hampton
Zenith Recharge Station
Westerstede, Donegal Province
Lyran Commonwealth
2nd June, 3143
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The one unavoidable rule about interstellar travel was that it demanded patience. The limitations of materials and technology kept JumpShips from safely jumping as many times as needed. Recharge of a Kearny-Fuchida Drive Core, to be done safely, required either a fully-charged lithium-fusion battery or dozens of hours of careful charging from a ship's charge sails or the banks of fusion reactors on recharge stations. The general average was about a week per system, though some could require even longer if there were no recharge stations and the available input of a system's star was lower than the average. Those weeks could be long weeks, as they meant life in zero-G for the crews of attached DropShips, and all the challenges zero-G meant for those who lacked life-long spacers' affinity for that condition.
The only reprieve came if a DropShip crew had leave to travel to the JumpShips themselves. Virtually all JumpShips had at least one, usually two, grav decks, spinning toruses built into their main hulls that when at full speed produced the feel of gravity through centrifugal force.
The Lady Noelle was no exception. The Voidstrider-class JumpShip, a product of the Artemis Shipyards facility at Zvolen, came with a pair of two hundred meter grav-decks. One was made specifically for giving ground troops on long transfers a chance to experience gravity and keep their land legs. Among the facilities on the deck were a pair of conference rooms for staff meetings, officer seminars, and all the other sorts of gatherings that were a part of military life.
In the largest of those rooms, at the main stern-side table, High King Nathaniel Proctor-Steiner let out a sign and tried to keep his frustration and embarrassment from showing. Well over two dozen personnel were already seated and more coming every second. Like him they were in basic "duty reds" with MechWarrior insignia. While he wore no unit patch they all bore the insignia of the Third Proctor Guards. It was a mocking adaptation of the Draconis Combine's black dragon with a hawk-winged sword piercing the dragon's chest. The perfect insignia for a unit with the proud nickname of "Dragonslayers".
He'd seen it often enough. This would be the third presentation today, appropriately to be given to the Third Battalion of the unit's core BattleMech regiment. Unfortunately, the way things were going, it would prove the most frustrating.
The holotank image beside him flickered, only faintly depicting the Royal Federation's crowned hawk in full three-dimensional color and light before the entire thing dissolved into wavering light with bursts of patchy gray. Beside him, one of the JumpShip's warrant officers struggled with something in the guts of the holotank itself. "Wait, Majesty, I have it, almost… no!" That final despairing cry was joined by the image going out entirely. The young warrant, Shrestha, lifted their head. The dark-colored hair with blue and pink highlights was not particularly accepted in the AFRF but entirely in fitting with the eccentricities credited to JumpShip crews. Finding personnel willing to spend four year tours did not allow the typical pickiness that other service branches had. While their BDUs were mostly the same color as the uniforms of the ground personnel and Nathaniel, Shrestha's branch pin was the golden solar sail of JumpShip crew. "Sorry, Majesty, but it's dead. I can't figure it out, all I can do is guess it needs a new projector core. I don't know if I have any in stock. I'll have to go see."
Nathaniel kept the groan of frustration from leaving his throat, but couldn't keep the annoyance off his face. He regretted the slip at seeing the flicker of worry that appeared on Shrestha's young face. "Sorry, Warrant Officer, that's not aimed at you." He added, mentally, And please stop looking like I'm about to have you thrown out the airlock. The holotank, maybe, but not you.
"Ah. Sorry, Majesty," Shrestha said. "I'll go check on that core. We topped off supplies before leaving Timkovichi so we should have one or two."
"Thank you." Nathaniel nodded once, then again when the spacer threw a quick yet sloppy salute. Oh dear God, if I'd saluted like that as a cadet Colonel MacLeod would've slapped me. Yet he said nothing as the warrant rushed out to chuckles from the assembled.
Among the chuckling figures were the other high-ranking officers seated with Nathaniel. General Sir DeMarcus Bridger was the senior commander present even if Nathaniel outranked him as the High King. Seated beside him was the Third Proctor Guards' CO, Major General Keyshawn Bridger, and their proximity did more than their similar names to speak to their relation. The Bridger brothers, eldest and youngest of three, were natives of Gienah's Borealis continent, sharing the same ebony shade to their complexion with the younger brother having a wider face. Beyond their seats, Colonel Momi Carvalho, a native of Jardine and the regimental CO of the Third Guards' BattleMech regiment, had a bemused grin on her face much like those her Third Battalion were now showing.
A man at least ten years older than Nathaniel spoke up from the crowd. The name "Klausoff" and the silver hawk insignia of a lieutenant colonel stood out from the assembled. "Third Battalion reporting as ordered, sir."
Nathaniel had already counted. Forty-four pilots. Battalion reserve included. He stood. "Everyone, thank you for your prompt arrival. I am sure I need no introductions, but for the purposes of brevity, I ask you only refer to me as 'sir'. 'King' if you must." He gestured towards the lifeless holotank. "I've worked with General Bridger's staff to prepare a briefing but I am afraid we are experiencing technical difficulties."
"I'll say," one wit among the assembled muttered, just loud enough to be heard but not so loud as to be utterly disrespectful. Klausoff and another pilot, with a captain's hawk and three bars, glared at the offender but said nothing.
Nathaniel's lips curled into a voluntary but meaningful little smile. "Malfunctioning holotanks are, unfortunately, another part of life in the AFRF. But I imagine the lot of you are pleased to be spared a point-by-point presentation. So, let's get to it. While we've been waiting for our JumpShips to finish their charges I wanted to see all of you. In another twelve days, we will be landing on Tharkad. It is the capital of our ally and we expect it to come under invasion by time we get there. Perhaps even before. God willing, we will land first and have a chance to establish defenses. I know that some of you, indeed many of you, have not seen combat. Nor have I. That's about to change. And I want you to know I have faith that we will all live up to what our people expect of us. We're going to save Tharkad and we're going to drive the Clans back. We're going to rescue each and every one of their bondsmen and return them to their homes."
The speech was one he'd planned to give anyway, but without the holotank to provide projections he had no means to give the visual imagery he wanted to drive home his position. It turned the speech into a monologue and by the end, Nathaniel could see he'd lost most of them. He glanced uncomfortably towards the Bridger brothers, who had enough discipline to not issue the faintest snicker, while Colonel Carvalho beamed with quiet amusement.
"Oh bollocks." Nathaniel sighed. He turned to address the Third Battalion again. "Alright, that was a crap speech, this is why I should have brought my speechwriters." That brought him a titter of laughter. "I know that some of the shine from my coronation's faded. It's one thing for me to be there, decked out and fresh from the ceremony, holding the Sword of Liberation into the sun and shouting a call to arms. But here we are, a cosmos away from home, and the reality of the fight's sinking in, isn't it?"
They answered with nods.
"Right. Same here. But we're here. These people are counting us. Our people back home are counting on us. Because even if the shine's gone, what I said is still true." Nathaniel swept his head over the room, trying to meet the eyes of these people, many of them his age or younger, several older. "The Clans have to be pushed back and their victims rescued. It'll make both sides of the Glass safer and uphold everything that we stand for. And I'm ready to put my life on the line to do it." He drew in a breath and pushed back the pain welling up at the words forming on his lips. "Just like my father did on Sirius."
Some jaws set. There were quiet nods. Nathaniel wondered if any of them had lost parents or other family in the war too.
"So, without our holoprojector, I've got nothing else to present." Nathaniel settled into his seat. "We've got time, and I'd like to hear your thoughts. I'm the Commander of the whole bloody AFRF and I want, I need, to know what you're thinking about this. Feel free to introduce yourselves too, we nobles have a talent for remembering names. Allegedly." He gave them another slight grin that prompted a fresh series of chuckles and amused grins. "Anyone?"
A young woman of Afro-Asian ancestry raised a hand. "Second Lieutenant Keiko Gregson, Bravo Company. I've got no questions, I just want to say I'm eager to get into this fight. You're right about the Clans and right about what they represent."
"Thank you, Lieutenant Gregson. Anyone else?"
"Captain Malcolm Havelock, Bravo Company CO." A tan-skinned man speaking with an old English accent from Ford stood. "I admit I was hoping to take us up against the Dracs again. I'm new to the unit but some of my people aren't and I wanted to see them get satisfaction. The way I see it, this is the best we're going to manage for now. I want you to rest assured we're ready for the fight."
"I've no doubt, Captain." Nathaniel replied. Good to see them opening up.
A light-skinned man's hand went up. He had the bars of a First Lieutenant and his nametag read "Wolfe". But where Gregson appeared eager and Havelock determined, his expression was somber and even frustrated. "Lieutenant Frederick Wolfe, Charlie Company. I've got a question, sir. Back at the coronation, and now, you're talking about how this is our fight, that it's a fight for humanity and all. But you weren't up for doing that back home." A number of eyes drifted towards Wolfe. Nathaniel said nothing, even if he could guess to the content of Wolfe's complaint. "Back on our side, the Dracs have been slaughtering innocent people on New Wessex, Vega, Cebalrai. They sacked Freedom and they've been raiding up and down the border ever since we pinched Musashi Honda in '34. If we're supposed to be fighting for humanity and putting down war criminals, why aren't we out to take Butcher Ballymont's head?"
With every word, Nathaniel felt a tinge of shame. Wolfe's quiet fury was evident and some of the other pilots were nodding and muttering agreement. He left Wolfe's question to hang in the air for several seconds, struggling with it. Before the Glass I was against military buildup. I wanted peace. Even as the reports from "Vega Prefecture" kept coming in of the latest atrocities by the Combine. Why didn't I act? Why didn't I think I could act? Was it fear of those who'd divert us to fighting the Empire? Or moral cowardice?
"Lieutenant, that's enough." Colonel Carvalho barked. Her stern voice broke Nathaniel from his train of thought.
Nathaniel shook his head. "No. He's alright." He drew in a breath and focused on Lieutenant Wolfe. "I've wrestled with what to do about Ballymont since coming to the throne, Lieutenant. There are times I thought about it, thought about sending the Household Guards in force to take back Vega and bring Ballymont to justice."
"You didn't, though," Wolfe said. "Now we're here instead. Why do these Lyrans' lives count for more? Why should the crimes they suffered be avenged before we punish the Dracs for what they did to Freedom?"
"They don't, Lieutenant. But the circumstances are different." Nathaniel sighed. "Every time I thought about it and every time I held back, it was due to one unavoidable truth. The Peace of Dieron cannot survive a new all-out war between Successor States. If we assaulted the Dracs that hard, enough to take the world back, they would retaliate, and the conflict would spiral. It'd be like the invasion of Andurien in '10. We'd have a Fifth Succession War on our hands, and all the evils that entails."
Wolfe shook his head, but said nothing. Nathaniel could see the point was accepted in the man's mind, but not his heart.
"We can't stop every evil, but that doesn't mean we can't stop any." Nathaniel continued. "We can stop this one. We can save the Lyran Commonwealth and free all these worlds from the Clans. And that's the truth of it." He smacked his hand on the table for emphasis.
The holotank flashed back to life. All eyes turned towards it.
Despite the tension in the room, Nathaniel couldn't stop himself from chuckling. "They have minds of their own, I swear," he muttered. Even Wolfe chuckled and a number of his compatriots laughed. Nathaniel picked up the holoprojector control and tapped a key on it, changing the image to one depicting the image of a Savage Wolf BattleMech. "Well, I suppose we shall have the briefing after all. Going by our intelligence this is one of many machines these Clans use. As you have heard they employ Royal-scale technology of a wide variety…"
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The last of the day's presentations were finally over, in defiance of the holoprojector's repeated unreliability. The last of the Fourth Battalion's pilots filtered out, leaving Nathaniel the Bridgers and Col. Carvalho. "It seems to have gone well." Nathaniel said.
"I'm sure his Company CO will be having a word with Lieutenant Wolfe," Carvalho said apologetically. "I'll make sure if she doesn't."
"No. I'd rather you didn't."
"With all due respect, Your Majesty, my unit, my rules, and Wolfe was being impertinent." The Jardine woman's words had an edge to them, though she maintained a proper tone. "Though I'll admit the thought has crossed my mind from time to time."
Nathaniel noted the way the elder Bridger brother glanced at the younger, whose jaw clenched. "You were there, then."
Carvalho nodded. "I commanded Second Battalion during the retreat from Harlow's Wood. The Ninth Galedon flanked us after the Second Sword of Light engaged us along the front. If not for Third Battalion they'd have rolled half the division up. We lost a lot of good pilots that day, and given what the Dracs did to the prisoners they took." She clenched her fists. "Majesty, I understand why we're here. But God help me, this is the third May in a row where all I can think about is killing Butcher Ballymont and liberating New Wessex and Vega. I know what happened isn't your fault but you kept talking peace with the likes of the Dracs, and now that you're all for a noble cause, it's for an entirely different enemy. I can understand this is a fight we can't avoid, and I'm in it to win, but impertinence aside Wolfe was just saying what I and a lot of my people feel. Given what the Dracs did to Freedom, given what they're doing in the Outworlds, what damn good is the Peace of Dieron?"
It was a sentiment Nathaniel had heard his whole life. The bitter words of his angry grandmother, the frustration of generals and admirals across the AFRF, once more in his ears. "The Peace of Dieron is what keeps more Freedoms and New Wessexes from happening, as imperfect as it is." he answered. "Though maybe that will change when this is over." He glanced towards the Bridger brothers. "General. I've seen the notes you've sent to Command Staff. I understand you're in full agreement with Colonel Carvalho. And I understand why. What the Dracs did, what they're still doing, I want to stop. I just need time to find a way without breaking the Inner Sphere."
"Understood, Majesty." the younger Bridger rumbled.
Nathaniel's link sounded a slight trilling noise. An incoming message was being relayed through the Lady Noelle's internal comm systems. He picked it up. "Yes?"
"Majesty, a JumpShip just arrived from Tharkad. They had a broadcast verigraphed message from Archon Melissa Steiner intended for you."
Nathaniel felt a spike of worry. Have we taken too long? Have the Wolves arrived at Tharkad already? "I'm on my way back." he said.
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===Words of the King to Remember===
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The High King's words continued to echo through Wolfe's mind after he departed the meeting. A plan to head to the rec room and enjoy some time in gravity remained still-born. He wandered the central walkway of the grav-deck instead. The bitter feelings swirled about, mingling with Nathaniel's words, making them sour in his heart.
"Fred!"
Here we go. Wolfe turned to face the oncoming fiery ginger wrath of his CO. Captain Siobhan McGruder, all hundred and seventy centimeters of fire straight from McAffe, stomped up to him with a frustrated expression on her freckle-spocked face. Military decorum demanded he stand to attention and the training kicked in, drawing his spine up. "Captain." he said formally.
"Ye know why I'm here," she said. "And if I don't do it now, I'll be doing it later when Colonel Klausoff and Colonel Carvalho order me to, so let's get it over with. Just what the hell was that back there?"
Playing dumb would have required more mirth and more patience than Wolfe felt. "He asked us for questions."
"Ye mouthed off at the bloody High King of the Federation, Fred! I wouldn't take that sort of disrespect from ye, and ye just gave it to our ruler. To the Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces of the Royal Federation! If ye'd done it to General Bridger ye'd be on your way to the brig now!"
"He wanted honest questions, and I gave one," Wolfe insisted. "And I wasn't being disrespectful."
"Ye were being damned cheeky because ye got an opening." She crossed her arms. "And this isn't the first time ye've gotten moody like this. Now I get it's the anniversary and all and I know ye'd rather be shooting Dracs, but this unit's not going to function if ye're hung up on this. This is where the fight is, this is where we've been ordered to go, and ye've got three pilots who are about to risk their lives, and they don't need ye questioning it!"
"When the fight starts I'll have their back, don't you worry, Captain." Just like Lance Lieutenant Miller had mine. "I'll have a word with 'em, make sure they know my concerns don't change what our duty is. But I'm not apologizing for putting His Majesty on the spot for fighting the wrong enemy."
McGruder rolled her eyes. "So we're supposed to start the next Succession War so ye can have yer revenge, is that it?"
The words shot from his lips before any rational thought could hold them back. "This isn't about revenge!" Wolfe shook his head while images flashed through his head. Burning towns, slaughtered families, and the ruined war machines of brave soldiers who stood against a superior foe and died upholding their oaths. "You weren't on Freedom. You didn't see what they did on Accrington either. Or Phalan. Shionoha. Ever since I've gotten out of Raquel Memorial and got assigned to the Third, I've seen all that. Then when we had the bastards dead to rights we get sent into a trap and we lose good people." The bitterness swelled up on his tongue. Involuntary tears formed as his mind flashed back to Harlow's Wood and being twelve against thirty. "We had to give up the war criminals we took on Freedom to get our dead and prisoners back, and what the Dracs did to them… not a one of them is with the Third any more. That's how you got the billet, Captain, because the last woman to lead Charlie Company lost her life trying to save the last of us. This whole unit had to be rebuilt because the Dracs murdered and tortured a bunch of us and the Army needed fresh bodies to replace their victims. Revenge? I want justice. And I want it to end. I want to hit the Dracs so hard they never dare cross the border again. And that's not going to ****** happen while we're out here fighting these neo-barbs in animal costumes!" At that point the words stopped.
McGruder's expression softened. "Feel better, Fred?"
"No," he said. "But I'm glad I got it out anyway."
"Good. Now I'm going to let Colonels Klausoff and Carvalho know I left teeth marks all over yer arse, so back me up on that. I want ye to go spend some time with your lancemates, Fred. Two weeks from now we'll be freezing on Tharkad with these Wolves bearing down on us. Get 'em ready for that, will ye?"
Wolfe nodded. "Yes, Captain. I will."
"Good. As you were." McGruder continued on.
Wolfe watched her disappeared down the curve of the grav deck before drawing in a sigh. Yeah, gotta be the good Lance Loo. Just like you were, Miller. He went off to find his MechWarriors and follow his orders.
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===Call for Help and it's Response===
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The shuttle ride back gave Nathaniel time to consider the message from Melissa. By the time he and DeMarcus Bridger emerged into the small craft bay of the Sara Proctor, he'd had a chance to form some ideas on how to approach it.
For comfort's sake, he assembled his war council in a wardroom on the Sara Proctor herself. The grav-decks here were little different save the thicker armoring on their exteriors and some of the facilities found within. Captain Samantha Winters and Rear Admiral Hamid Abdul-Jabbar, the CO of the cruiser and the commander of the naval squadron, were waiting in their black and gold naval jumpsuits. Colonel Laughlin, commander of the Lifeguards Regiment, had duty reds instead of battle reds. The final figure was the impromptu commander of the expedition by dint of his entire Corps being assigned to it. General Matthew Proctor-Steiner-Davion's red hair was over halfway gray now, but it was a distinctive difference that marked his Davion heritage just as his Steiner blue eyes and round Proctor face marked the other sides of the family. Like Bridger he was a freshly-minded four-star general, elevated to command of the Household Guards Corps (over Lord Arnold's heated objections), and held seniority over Bridger. The two were amicable fellow veterans of the worst conflict in the past eighty years and had, to Nathaniel's thanks, already decided on a division of their responsibilities between Matthew commanding the Household Guards and Bridger being the official OpGroup Vice-Commander beside Nathaniel as effective leader of the expedition. Rare exceptions aside, twenty-seven year old men do not lead armies well, and I am no Napoleon or Kerensky.
Each of them had a chance to go over the request from Tharkad. Matthew shook his head. "Dividing our forces isn't the smart thing. It risks defeat in detail."
"It does, but not having a yard to repair battle damage would risk defeat too." Abdul-Jabbar replied. "The importance of the yards at Gibbs cannot be overlooked."
"Still don't like it." Matthew tapped at his control, allowing him to manipulate a portion of the holotank. A list of unit designations came up. Given their names and that they were identified as "Clusters", Nathaniel took them to be Wolf forces. "If this force hits Tharkad we need everything to hold. Everything."
"We're just as well-equipped as they are." Laughlin said.
"That's not enough, Colonel." Bridger gave his head a quick back-and-forth shake. "I've seen the Clans in action. They're great pilots, even their rookies, and they've got an edge in experience too. We've not had a fight like this since Vega, hell, since Procyon and Sirius in '23. Our guys need every edge we can manage."
Nathaniel nodded. I am untried myself. He felt an icy grip on his gut that he banished with a moment of concentration. But it is what must be done. "I imagine the Archon's advisors have had similar arguments. That they make this suggestion with the battle for Tharkad itself looming is, I think, a statement in of itself."
"Statement of how desperate things are." Matthew observed. "Alright. I'd wanted them for the defensive fight, but if we've got to send a unit, I say let's make it the Second BMR." The older man smiled. Nathaniel translated the abbreviation in his head. Second Royal BattleMech Regiment. Matthew spoke up again. "They may not have as much of the best kit, but the Iron Wall Brigade have always trained for holding their ground. I've seen their war game figures of late, they've even given the Second Royal Guards some tough fights on defense."
"Do you concur, General Bridger?"
Bridger nodded at Nathaniel's question. "I do, Majesty. With the Sixteenth Lyran Regulars you've got a potent force that should throw back the Wolf raids launched so far. I doubt the Wolves will divert more if they're intent on taking Tharkad."
"Agreed." Nathaniel turned to al-Jabbar and Winters. "I want the Sara Proctor at Tharkad, just in case the Wolves bring heavy naval arms. What can we spare?"
"The Cuchulainn," al-Jabbar suggested. "They've got their usual short flotilla for anti-fighter work and the Second's aerospace wing should be enough reinforcement against raiding groups."
"Alright. I'll leave the orders to you." I am fortunate to have skilled commanders such as these advising me, he thought. "The rest of us make for Tharkad."
"Five days until we can make the jump." Winters said. "Local recharge station and our engineers can't do better."
"I trust in their skill." Nathaniel assured her. "It's more important that we get there at all, even if it is to drive the enemy from the Triad." Though I pray we will be there well beforehand….
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