FSML-3 Chpt 1

=Chapter 1=
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“My people and I have come to an agreement which satisfied us both.
They are to say what they please, and I am to do what I please.”
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==Frederick Steiner and the Man Who Knew Too Little==
Book 3
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===Desert Sunset Conversation===
Summit, Duran
Protectorate of Donegal, Lyran Commonwealth
12th December, 3022
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The deserts of Duran were vast and windblown. The tracks left by the two camels would be lost within an hour or two, and the words of the riders just as easily erased. As a means of discretion, it was lowtech but effective.
“I never thought you’d turn to ranching.” Frederick Steiner was holding his saddle with both hands, the large man looking rather uncomfortable on the back of the camel. His grandfather had died after falling from a horse, and camel back was rather higher.
His companion shrugged. “Camel ranching is good business. You’re the one who gave me the land.”
“Yes, but you always struck me as more of a city dweller.”
“You’re right, but there’s something to be said for being a few hundred miles from the bulk of humanity.”
Frederick laughed suddenly. “Oh, I get it now.”
“You do?”
“You’re fleeing the attention of the unattached ladies. This is a bit of a role reversal!”
He saw Max Mustermann’s lips curl and then the balding man shook his head slightly. “You’re not wrong.” he reluctantly admitted.
Both men laughed, the camels plodding along placidly as the older of the riders shot back: “So how did you get along with Nelitha?”
Frederick stopped laughing, but his eyes were still merry. “You’re reaching, Max. It’s months since I returned from New Avalon and Donna already got her jabs in at me.”
“Yes, but I haven’t seen you since then. You went straight from there to Timbuktu.” Max leaned over in his saddle and punched the duke’s shoulder. “You didn’t just go to New Avalon, you went to Galax too. Meeting the parents, one of the great challenges of a serious relationship.”
Feeling a flush on his cheeks, the younger man reached out and just missed punching Max’s own shoulder in retaliation. “It went well,” he admitted. “I don’t think I’d want to live on Galax, but it’s not a bad place to visit. And she spends a lot of time on New Avalon anyway.”
“That is good to hear.” His friend looked sincere, despite the uncharacteristic sentimentality. “If you bring her here, I’ll try to keep the enthusiasm from boiling over.”
“The way you did last week?” Returning to his homeworld had thrown Frederick back into a whirl of social activity, worse in some ways than the more formal events he had dealt with on the capital of the Federated Suns or even on his cousin’s frozen capital of Tharkad.
Max snickered. “That was with me holding them back. You’re their duke, not to mention the great war hero and the one leading the return to the ‘glory days of the Star League’. If you get married, there will be street parties in every city on the planet.”
Frederick snorted. “I’m hardly loveable.”
“Nelitha thinks otherwise, I hope.”
That was enough of this conversation, he decided. “Now that I’m back from inspections in Timbuktu Theater, bring me up to speed on the things that didn’t get sent by HPG.” Painful experience had proven that communications via ComStar weren’t secure except by one-time pad - and even there, the religious order that controlled the Inner Sphere’s faster-than-light communications had computers powerful enough to number-crunch some messages, or so it was speculated.
It would be crippling not to use the HPGs for most government business, and commercial matters weren’t much better. Frederick was pretty hands off with his blooming economic empire though - he might own it, but Max and other managers did almost all of the real work. There was no need to keep him up to date via HPG, so anything remotely sensitive was allowed to wait for him to at least be in the same star system as someone who was in the loop.
“I’m sure Donna got you updated on Bowie’s progress.” Frederick’s sister, the dowager duchess of Porrima, was spearheading the corporation’s aerospace division. Now that her son was old enough to have enrolled at the Nagelring - (Mein Gott, Frederick thought, he hadn’t even been born when I first met Max!) - Donna had become even more active, targeting sloth and corruption in the Lyran Commonwealth Armed Forces’ aerospace bureaucracy with the same deadly focus she’d once applied to Marik and Kurita aerospace fighters.
“Chapter and verse,” he agreed. “It all sounded good, but she’s not so aware of anything beyond Bowie’s activities.”
Max nodded. “You arrived a little too late for Doctor Banzai to demonstrate the prototypes, but we have the footage recorded so you can watch them in action.”
“They’re that far ahead?”
“Yes. We have a couple here in secure storage if you want to see them, but Team Banzai taking up a garrison post on Coventry isn’t just so they can help out with the full-head revisions to the P-hawk lines there.”
“I’m sure the military academy will appreciate them as guest lecturers.” Frederick muttered. “Duran A&M was certainly unhappy about Banzai leaving. It’s a damn shame we can’t keep the manufacturing here.”
Turning the head of his camel with the reins, Max made a sympathetic noise. “Rastaban can build some of the components, but not all of them. We’re working on it, but contracting Coventry Metal Works for final assembly let us cut at least a year off the production schedule - and it finally convinced the Bradfords to let us buy in. Which means we’re now in the loop for their work on pulse lasers.”
“Oh excellent! They’re going ahead with that?”, Fredrick asked
“Much further ahead than we thought. The heat of a pulse laser might be a hard-sell until freezers are available, but not needing to resupply machine gun ammunition is too much of an logistical benefit to ignore.”
“And they don’t explode.” It was a detonation in the ammo bin in his Phoenix Hawk that had cost Frederick his first ‘Mech and carved a permanent reminder into his face. “Can we fit one on the Einherjar?”
That got a chuckle from the other man. “Frederick, a small pulse laser weighs more than an entire suit - at least right now. Maybe if we work up something larger, and scale the size of the lasers down. For now that’s just not feasible.”
“Perils of not having seen them yet. Can I try one of the prototypes out?”
“I don’t see any reason why not. That’s one reason we kept some here, after all.”
Frederick nodded, trying to hide how eager he was. Intellectually, he knew the Einherjar would fall far short of the specifications in the data he’d got from Jaime Wolf. “You’ve worked wonders to get them ready so far.”
“It was the Doctor and his team who did the hard work.” the baron said dismissively. “Another reason he’s off to Coventry is that it’s nearer to Twycross. We’re still not sure what we found is harjel or if we’re on the wrong track. Samples are easier to ship to him there.”
“Don’t be so modest. It takes more than just genius to get something like this done.”
“It’s rather cathartic to have the authority to actually force things through. Even if it’s very ‘wait until your father gets home’ at some points.”
“Father?”
“You - the duke, that is. No one wants you to think they’re dragging their feet.”
Frederick smirked… and then they rounded a rise and saw the sun sinking towards the horizon, casting pinkish light across the desert. “Oh…”
“What?”
“That sunset!”
The older man shaded his eyes. “Nice, I suppose,” he said insincerely.
“You have no romance in your soul.”, scowls Max
“None,” he replied with feigned pride. “Speaking of dragging feet…”
“Who?”
Max folded his hands on the pommel of his saddle. “Katrina. It’s eighteen months since I expected her to send the Peace Proposal, Frederick. Have I screwed that up?”
Frederick shrugged. “I’m not sure. I know she’s talking diplomacy with some of her advisors but I’m not in the loop for that. We talked briefly when I passed through Tharkad on my way to Timbuktu and she asked questions about New Avalon and the court there, but if she’s planning to make the offer you described, she didn’t bring it up.”
“...damn.”
“She might just prefer to keep building up the existing work with Hanse Davion rather than a broader offer,” he suggested. The Peace Proposal of 3020 that Max had described had been aiming for a ceasefire between the five Successor States so that all the Great Lords could gather on neutral Terra for the first time since 2781. “And our position is stronger now than the one you described.”
The Lyran economy had always been the most robust of the successor states - since the collapse of the Terran Hegemony, it was axiomatic that the Lyrans were the wealthiest realm of the Inner Sphere, and thus of humanity as a whole. But the military victories of Katrina’s reign - spearheaded by Frederick himself - had given them credibility as a real rival in that field as well.
It’s arguable that we might be the strongest of the five right now, Frederick thought. And I’ve had a lot to do with that. If Katrina is really planning a major diplomatic move like this, why wouldn’t she tell me?
Then he forced his fingers to loosen on the reins. She knows my thoughts already, he reminded himself. And while I get on well with the Davions - the face of one particular Davion crossed his mind’s eye - I’d be a terrible choice for diplomacy with Kurita or Marik.
“Perhaps the time just isn’t right.” Max admitted. “If it isn’t coming, then hopefully we won’t need it when the Clans come.”
When, not if. But he’s right. And however strong we are, we’ll need to be stronger when Kerensky’s descendants decide to return to the Inner Sphere. Because nothing Max or Jaime have said suggests that they’ll come in peace.
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===The shifting winds in the Combine===
Imperial City, Luthien
Pesht District, Draconis Combine
January 9th, 3023
The Black Room, deep beneath the Imperial Palace, was the most critical nerve center of the Draconis Combine Mustered Soldiery, and thus of the Combine as a whole. Theodore Kurita, in theory the ruler of both, had elected to hear Grieg Samsonov’s grievances here with only the high command, not in open court.
Had that been a mistake? Tomoe Sakade, one of only two guards present, wasn’t sure. She knew from prior conversation with Theodore that neither was the Coordinator but there was no sign of that in the young lord’s posture. He sat at the head of the table, successfully maintaining the image of a master receiving a report from a standing servant and not of a student being loomed over by an instructor.
“The Dragoons’ unruliness should be brought to heel, Tono,” the Warlord of Galedon Military District concluded. “A dog can be useful, but it should also be well leashed. Your father was wise in many ways, but his untimely death during the negotiations with these lucre warriors has allowed them too much freedom.”
In front of Tomoe, Theodore let the silence after Samsonov’s declaration drag just a little, to be sure he had heard the man out fully and then moved his hand slightly in dismissal. A studied move, imitating the late Takashi Kurita.
Once the warlord had seated himself again, the Coordinator looked down the table. “Your opinions?”
Samsonov’s rival and certainly the most powerful of the five warlords, Syovo Yorioshi did not rise, but he did lower his head slightly towards Theodore before speaking. “I can understand my comrades’ concerns at the latitude given the Colonel Wolf and his regiments. However, I am confident that my own Benjamin Regulars would be able to bring Wolf back in line if that regrettable need were to arise. Surely the Galedon Regulars are similarly prepared.”
“Bringing Wolf down is one thing, doing so without leaving Davion free to take the initiative is another.” snapped Samsonov.
Vladimir Sorenson cleared his throat. “Wolf and his regiments are one reason we currently hold the initiative along that border.” He might not bear the blame for reverses on the other border, but Sorenson was Warlord of Dieron… a district whose capital was now under the rule of the detested Lyrans. And the Dragoons were a key reason for that embarrassment. “If he is providing the desired results, why meddle in current arrangements?”
The answer was known to all and unspoken.
“It is unseemly for a mere hireling to be allowed to act without regard to higher authority.” The Warlord of Galedon scowled. “And he has been allowed to take inexperienced soldiers of the Dragon under his influence, who may expect similar latitude in the future.”
“The Drakon regiments are learning the ways by which Jaime Wolf does war.” Theodore conceded. “They are nonetheless our samurai and operate under the same direction as any other regiment of the DCMS. The Wolf’s Dragoons may serve us for now, but they remain mercenaries. They have fought us in the past, and may do so in the future. In that event, with the Drakons in the ranks of our soldiers, we will know their ways and be prepared to defeat them - as has been attempted before.”
Attempted and failed.
“Jumped up militia that are hardly the equals of battle-hardened mercenaries.” grumbled Cherenkoff. “Troops that would be better used keeping control of unruly peasants, not wasted in trying to be frontline soldiers.”
“Are you struggling to control your district?” Samsonov asked with a sneer. Rasalhague should be settling now that Theodore was… Tomoe was careful not to let emotion show on her face. Now that Theodore was married to the daughter of their Jarl, she finished the thought. But Cherenkoff is by far the clumsiest of the five warlords.
“Are you struggling to control your mercenaries?”, the portly officer spat the ire back.
“The point is that they are not my mercenaries and have been granted license by the Coordinator to operate with wide discretion. The insurgents you are complaining about have no such rights.”
“If you think you can do better…”
Tomoe saw the shift of Theodore’s shoulders, the tell that he had seen an opening.
“I do believe that Grieg can do better, Vasily.”
The shift to the personal names left the men around the table slightly offguard, hesitating as the Coordinator struck. “You are relieved of command of Rasalhague Military District.”
Tomoe and the other guard moved in on the portly officer, she pulling the man’s chair back while her companion took the warlord’s swords from him.
“Wh-what? Why!?”
Theodore’s eyes were bleak. “Indrahar?”
The spymaster bowed his head. “Fourteen major attempts at subverting planetary, prefectural and district authorities have been brought to the former-Warlord’s attention, requesting DCMS support in detaining the conspirators. In twelve of these cases, individuals under warrant have escaped the initial attempts and only ten have in fact been traced and removed by follow up efforts. On seven occasions, without the opportunity to interrogate them. Of those twelve, all have a common element - direct connections to officers within the Warlord’s staff.”
Vasily Cherenkoff’s eyes flicked around the room for support. “Then arrest them, not me!”
“You are not being removed for treason, Vasily.” Theodore smiled slightly but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Those officers are being treated as traitors deserve, but you are stripped of your rank and titles for a far worse sin: a traitor can be used at least once, but the lazy and the careless have no value.”
Tomoe and her fellow dragged the fallen Warlord to the door and handed him off to a squad of their comrades in the Otomo. No one at the table watched as they did so. Cherenkoff was gone, they knew they would never see him again. What mattered now was what would follow.
“Warlord Samsonov.” Theodore let the cloak of formality fall back over his words. “You are relieved of command of Galedon District in order that you may take up the command of Rasalhague Military District. The Drakons will travel with you, deployed to support you in restoring order there. I am sure you possess the energy and rigor that your predecessor lacked.”
Samsonov stood and bowed. The dismissal of one of his peers had reminded him, for now, of his place. “I am honored by your trust, tono.” Empty words, but at least obedience. “I look forward to working with your esteemed father-in-law to make Rasalhague a bastion of support for the Dragon.”
Such a bastion would be needed. Tomoe was among the few that Theodore had shared Jaime Wolf’s origins with. The mercenary’s admission had shocked her, it was a revelation that would shock the entire Combine when it came out. Something that would need to be handled carefully, and done when Theodore’s rule was on a stronger footing.
But one thing was clear: if the Dragoons’ people did come then it was Rasalhague and Pesht districts that would face the storm.
“An opportunity that I sadly cannot give you.” Theodore told the new Warlord of Rasalhague. “Jarl Sjovold’s role in discovering the conspiracies was not a small one. While it will be detrimental to preparing Rasalhague as a springboard for a renewed offensive against the Lyrans, I believe he will be too much of a target there. And a valued advisor on Luthien, of course. Jarl Sjovold will be announced shortly as the new Minister of Court.”
Tomoe barely bit back her amusement. Sjovold’s part in revealing the conspiracies had been entirely unwitting - Theodore and Indrahar had been carefully unraveling the plotting that had lain behind Takashi’s death and found a network of agents tied to both the Jarl and to the Lyran-backed Tyr movement. Openly condemning the father of the Coordinator’s consort would be unacceptable but promoting him away into a post away from his power base - and one where he would be under intense scrutiny by the upper nobility of the capital and the Combine would cripple Sjovold’s ability to indulge in such dangerous politics for years to come.
Anastasi Kurita would be pleased to have her father closer to hand. Happy wife, happy home. Theodore had grasped that fact, and he needed every possible support if he was to battle the many problems of the Combine.
The Order of Five Pillars had many roles. Supporting the Dragon when he was wise, gently advising him when he was not. Sacrificing much, for the greater benefit of the Combine. Tomoe had never expected anything less from her life, and what she was receiving was if anything more than she had hoped.
“Moving along,” Theodore continued. “We have a vacancy among our Warlords now.” Before Samsonov could make any nominations, he turned to Yorioshi. “I will have to deprive you of General Shotugama’s services, Syovo.” The intimate tone held a warning it might not have had earlier.
Yorioshi’s eyes flickered as he digested the move. One of his trusted officers, taking over his rival’s previous post. Shotugama would have to win support from officers with ties to Samsonov. If he succeeded, then the Warlord of Benjamin might be able to look for more cooperation along the Davion border than had been the case before. Or he might find his former lieutenant to be a new and even more dangerous rival. “I am pleased that you see the same promise that I do in General Shotugama,” the Warlord said quietly. “I assume that tono will wish to instruct him of his elevation personally?”
“You perceive my thoughts very well,” Theodore’s smile was predatory. “An invitation has been issued for him to dine with me this evening.”
“Yes, I believed at the time that you were considering granting him command of the Fifth Sword of Light.” Reformed after their shattering defeat on Dieron. The possibility of retiring their honors and building an entirely new regiment had been considered and only rejected after a great deal of debate in this very chamber.
“He will receive that as well. The Fifth will hone their claws fighting Davion, well away from their previous reversals.” Theodore informed them. “I am, after all, removing the Drakons from Galedon District. Someone must replace them and Shotugama will require reliable troops to consolidate his position until the Galedon Regulars are used to him.”
So the Fifth Sword of Light would be both Shotugama’s sword against Samsonov’s loyalists, and a blade against the new Warlord’s throat.
“You mentioned a new offensive against the Lyrans?” Elija Kurita, a distant cousin of the Coordinator and the current Warlord of Pesht district, had not spoken so far.
Theodore nodded. “Dieron requires a reply, and striking there again would be predictable. Plans are being developed, but naturally much awaits decisions to be made by the Warlord of Rasalhague. Cherenkoff’s ineptitude has at least bought time for preparations to be made elsewhere. Perhaps you would like to inform the council of the progress made by Luthien Armor Works, cousin?”
Elija beamed. “Of course, tono.” He looked around the table. “You may recall Wells Technologies were acquired by LAW following the disgraceful discovery that they were selling Charger battlemechs to Lyran black marketeers.”
“Something of limited benefit to the Lyrans.”, muttered Sorenson.
Tomoe couldn't help but agree. The Charger was a notoriously useless design. Twenty tons of fight in an eighty-ton sack, she'd heard it called.
“Indeed. Production has been ceased not only to prevent that trade but also to reconstruct the factory using data gathered by the ISF.” Elija tipped his head slightly to Director Indrahar. “The new BattleMech produced at the factory has been designated the Hatamoto and is constructed in five variants. By using a much smaller fusion reactor than that of the Charger, the mech uses a pair of PPCs in every case.”
Tomoe saw Samsonov’s look of interest. The Warlord had infamously modified his Atlas to use such an armament, even if it hadn’t stopped him from being defeated by Frederick Steiner on Halstead Station many years ago.
“The variants differ in their secondary armament,” the Pesht warlord continued. “The first of each is awaiting us outside the Imperial Palace at this time.”
“An inspection?” asked Yorioshi. “While I am not uninterested -”
“Gifts,” Theodore corrected him. “After I have informed General Shotugama of his promotion, it will please me to present each of my warlords with one of the new Battlemechs. Elija, please show them specifications. I will allow you to decide amongst yourselves who receives which particular model…”
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===An Agreement between Archon and a Colonel===
The Triad, Tharkad
Protectorate of Donegal, Lyran Commonwealth
31st August, 3023
Ardan Sortek thought Katrina Steiner looked relieved to see him as he was ushered into the informal audience chamber adjoining her office, and said as much: “Am I rescuing you from something?”
“Internal politics.”
He nodded, familiar with similar sentiments from Hanse. “You’re welcome.”
The Archon laughed, some of the years dropping off her. Ardan had seen how the burdens of rule had aged Hanse and hoped that his friend would be able to relax from the strain when he was Katrina’s age, in a decade or so. God willing, without losing Dana the way Katrina had lost her husband Arthur. Most of the time, the Steiner matriarch looked her natural mid-forties, but relaxed she could have passed for younger.
“Congratulations on your victory.” she told him, gesturing to a seat.
“Even if it comes at the expense of the Boys of Summer?” Ardan was freshly arrived from New Earth, where the third Alliance Games had been fought. In simulated combat, his Davion Heavy Guards had bested the similarly elite Seventeenth Skye Rangers.
“Humility is a virtue they needed to be reminded of.” Katrina opened the bottle of wine on the table between them. “I think you’ll find this vintage to your liking, Colonel.”
“I have no doubts.” The wine cellars of a Great House had few rivals, after all.
The blonde poured two glasses of white and Ardan sniffed at the contents before nodding and raising his glass. “House Steiner.”
She returned the salute. “House Davion.” Both drank, and Ardan was unsurprised that the wine lived up to her prediction. “Your victory was deserved, even if it did add to my current headache.” Katrina confided, setting her half-empty glass on the table.
“Oh? I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Skye,” the Archon said - in much the same tones that Hanse might have used when speaking of New Syrtis.
“I heard that Duke Grethar had passed away,” Ardan admitted diplomatically. “But his daughter struck me as capable when we met. Young, but she was well prepared to succeed.”
“That’s my own feeling,” Katrina murmured. “Unfortunately, Grethar’s nephew disagrees - not least because Margaret is adopted, rather than being his blood cousin.”<br>
As much as Ardan would have liked to stay out of politics, he’d had to read up on Lyran politics before the ambassador allowed him anywhere near the royal court. “That would be… the Duke of Summer?”
“Exactly. And Aldo is a particular patron of the Seventeenth, given their association with his world. If I’d known this was coming then I’d have pulled the Seventeenth from the Games in favor of another unit; win or lose, their having being sent up against an AFFS regiment right when this was going down would have given him angles.”
Ardan shrugged. It wasn’t as if he’d have thrown the fight. “Is it alright for you to discuss this with me?”
“I’d rather Hanse hear it at only one remove,” she told him frankly. “Skye is right on the route between our realms so any conflict there has to be considered from both sides. And this will hit the media sooner rather than later: Duke Lestrade has challenged the legitimacy of Duchess Aten’s succession in the courts.”
“Ouch.”
“Ouch indeed.” Katrina picked up her glass again and sipped. “The Skye Provincial Court saw the case and threw it up to the Chief Justice right away. Whatever they ruled, it was going to go to appeals so they saw no point taking it on themselves. Besides, they have to live with whoever wins the case.”
The Lyran judiciary was usually quite independent minded, even if it meant disagreeing with the sitting Archon. “Is this a legal matter or a political one?”
“Yes.”
“Ah.”
“I’m fairly sure that Grethar covered every possible legal angle when he decided to adopt Margaret, but she is young and you know how much snobbery can affect the aristocracy of Skye.”
“Any aristocracy.” the son of a gentleman-farmer pointed out. He'd grown up almost within view of Mount Davion, given the way the mountain loomed over the rich agricultural plains that New Avalon had been settled for.
“Most of them, at any rate,” Katrina agreed. “Margaret grew up in poverty. Whatever the legal ruling, the Skye political actors have to be convinced to accept it. Some of them won’t look past her birth to her ancestry, or the fact she’s genuinely very able and loyal. Which means I can’t just stay hands off.” She finished her wine. “It’s pulling attention from what I wanted to discuss, the real reason I asked you to visit Tharkad.”
“I don’t follow.”
The Archon opened a folder on the table and extracted the documents within. Two pages, neither especially lengthy. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment to send this to my peers. Your prince and his brother both had what could be termed as a ‘special relationship’ with the Lyran Commonwealth. I wanted your informal opinion of how he will take this.”
Ardan put his almost empty glass down and took the first sheet. His eyebrows arched almost immediately. It was a letter addressed, as Katrina had said, to the heads of the other four Great Houses. That in and of itself would be almost unprecedented. But then there were the contents.
“A general ceasefire and a face to face meeting on Terra to try to formulate mutually acceptable peace treaties?” he asked. “Should you ask ComStar to open up the Court of the Star League while you’re at it?” The long vacant throne of the Star League was the theoretical goal of the Succession Wars - the prize fought over for almost two and a half centuries. General Kerensky had sealed the throne room personally the same day he executed Stefan Amaris and the entire court complex from which the Star League had once been governed had been effectively abandoned since his Exodus.
“That would probably be a distraction from other issues,” Katrina murmured. “But if they are interested…” She indicated the second page.
Reading it, Ardan shook his head slightly. “You might be able to get the first part done,” he admitted. “I think Hanse would be willing to meet with you on Terra, but I can’t see him agreeing to deciding the post of First Lord on an economic basis. It is rather one-sidedly in favor of the Commonwealth.”
“It might incentivise the other lords to focus on bettering their people’s lot,” the Archon observed crisply, “Rather than conquest. It’s just a suggestion though. I am open to alternatives if we can just get them talking.”
“Janos Marik is on decent terms with New Avalon,” he said slowly. “But not your greatest admirer. Maximillian Liao is a snake, pure and simple. And speaking of snakes…”
“Takashi Kurita hid a certain amount of pragmatism behind his obligatory samurai posturing. I have some hopes that his son is the same.”;;
Ardan wasn’t as convinced that Takashi Kurita had been posturing - he’d never met the man, but the Combine’s elite seemed to take those traditions deadly seriously. “Theodore… well, he’s new to the throne. I can see why you didn’t offer this to him earlier.” It was entirely possible that a young and inexperienced Coordinator might be deposed if he proposed peace. How much power lay in the hands of the Coordinator and how much in the DCMS High Command was a question that engaged deep analysis on New Avalon, on Tharkad and - most of all - on Luthien itself. “I don’t see it as happening, but I suppose he’s not been directly tied to any of his family’s traditional excesses.”
Katrina nodded. “I’d say there’s perhaps a one in ten chance of him at least attending such a meeting. Maybe a little better if everyone else agrees. It’s a unique chance for us to take each other’s measure in person, and he could argue that if he doesn’t attend then the rest of us might unite against the Draconis Combine.”
“There would be some who see that as a selling point.”
“I wouldn’t be quick to disagree with that either, but my first obligation is to the people I currently rule. If I can preserve them from the Combine’s aggression through diplomacy, then I have to prioritize that over liberating those they’re oppressing on their own worlds.”
Ardan lifted his glass and finished the contents. “I see your point. Of course, some of those worlds were once Lyran, or Suns… or Terran Hegemony.”
“If he doesn’t attend, which I admit is likely, I doubt I’d have difficulty securing political support to attempt another offensive such as Frederick’s Dieron attack.” Katrina told him. “Whether or not that’s feasible for other reasons… well, that depends who else is willing to talk peace.”
“It has the virtue of never having been tried before. Hanse will be interested, just not in economic competition. We just don’t have the shipping to compete.” He paused and then reluctantly added. “You know that some will want a share of your lostech research as the price of admission.”
“I might be willing to disclose some of it if they do attend and if they do negotiate in good faith.” Katrina allowed. “Some of it, not all of it. Even under the Star League, intellectual property was respected.”
Ardan reached for the bottle and refilled their glasses. “That sounds good to me. To the hope of peace?”
Katrina lifted her own glass. “The hope of peace.” They clinked the glasses again and sipped. “Thank you for giving me your opinion of it, Colonel Sortek. There aren’t many people outside of the Lyran court I can ask, and an outside view is sometimes the most valuable.”
“I’m glad to help.” he told her sincerely.
“Then if I may impose further on you, do you have plans for this evening?”
“My schedule is open.” It had the virtue of being true - and Katrina was one of the only two Successor Lords that Ardan would have expected to accept if he’d had other commitments. Perhaps he’d think better of the others if he’d met them? That might be another reason behind the idea of a face-to-face meeting.
“Excellent.” Katrina’s smile was warm. “I have a formal engagement - the Nagelring’s graduation dinner is this evening. I’m sure one more guest won’t complicate the event for them and I’ll give you a look at the vaults. Frederick gave Ian some data as a prize for winning the first Alliance Games, so perhaps by tradition I should send a gift back to Hanse with you.”
“Only a fool denies a dinner invitation from a lovely lady,” Ardan said gallantly. Then he paused. “Ah… is Melissa attending?” The Archon’s daughter was fond of teasing him. Or at least, he hoped she was teasing.
“It’s a little too late in the evening for her.” the Archon told him cheerfully. “Still, if you don’t want her measuring you for a wedding ceremony then you should consider finding a wife before she’s of age. You’ve only got five years before she’s legal and I’m sure Hanse would find it politically acceptable since Frederick is courting his own cousin.”
Ardan sighed heavily. “As if it’s that easy?”
“Don’t you like my daughter, Colonel?”, she asked
“I didn’t fall for the Seventeenth’s traps, I won’t fall for that. I’m twice her age.”
“And I trust in your restraint. Boys closer to her age, not so much.”
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Book 3 - 1, Chapter