TEFAC Chpt 4

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==Chapter 4 - Time Enough For A Cat - - Three Occidental Cats & The Fox -==
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====Struggles with Love & Technology Advancement====
NAIS Village Bar
New Avalon, Federated Suns
Sitting around the card table in the back room of the college bar we'd booked out, I lit a cigarette and rolled my neck. We were one semester down of our stay here, and I was hoping everything would continue to be smooth sailing. Still, having the occasional check-in with everyone so we could review operations was always a good idea, especially considering how many plates we were collectively spinning. The fact it looked like a classic Inner Sphere conspiracy meeting was purely chance.
 
Flicking my ears, I grinned at Howler. "Pour me a drink, love?" I asked, smiling sweetly. With a snap of her wrist, the Vindicator pilot sent me the drink, before taking the time to chuckle at me.
 
"Sure you shouldn't wait until your wife shows up? She'll be pissed she missed any of this."
 
"Mersies and I aren't married yet, Howler," I said, sighing. "Also, considering she's the one working to get us that appointment with Hanse, I can't hold it against her."
 
"Suit yourself, loverboy."
 
"Hah," I muttered dryly. "Well since you seem to be in such a good mood, why don't you lead us off?"
 
Nodding, Howler poured her own drink, and then one for Sokoloy next to her. "Alright, so first off: I officially request to get moved off the Extra Light Engine Project. Damn thing's done. Somehow. It's fucking good, okay?"
 
I raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"
 
"Yeah, seriously. Once the unitary core casting line got set up and we weren't bolting together a KF vessel containment unit, it went out like gangbusters and away we went. It mostly makes 270-rate engines, but with how we've got the core tuning set up and some of the other bits and bobs, we can build from a 255 engine all the way out to a 285 engine. If they're not 270s they need to be one-offs and that's a separate shop, but considering how many apprentice engine-makers we have on the floor it's really not that hard."
 
"Apprentice engine-makers?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
 
"So, while I knew things were kind of shit in this time period," Howler explained, "I didn't expect Adherlwin to have a whopping 17% literacy rate. These people are, to borrow a turn of phrase, the real McCoy of Periphery Neobarbarians."
 
"Excuse me, fucking what."
 
"Seventeen fucking percent literate. Their biggest city wasn't even a million people. Most of these godless luddites still use horses as their primary mode of transit for fuck's sake. I think we could actually terrify the locals with a bible and a flashlight- and oh by the way, there's some religious cults there that are suspicious as fuck too."
 
I slammed my shot, Howler slammed her shot, and then we refilled. "So," I asked, raising an eyebrow. "How the fuck does the engine line work then."
 
"Well, as the Marians will tell you, throw enough slaves at the problem and it'll solve itself eventually. Since we're not slaving fucks who think rocket launchers are the solution to all of life's ills, I had to improvise. Right now, my factors have the entire factory working on a master-apprentice system. One guy who actually knows what he's doing does things, yelling at a horde of minions to help and learn. Then the minions eventually get to work on the production line, spend some time in the company school, and get their own minions. Add some horse-drawn carriages to move the engines around with, and it's going… acceptably."
 
"Your report said five engines a month. That's not very acceptable."
 
"Fuck off! Triple-M can barely manage to spit out twelve engines a month, and that's across their 275 and their 120 lines!"
 
I rolled my eyes. "Right, so engine production is chronically fucked, but somehow online. Great. Good to know some things never change."
 
"Eh. Once we teach the superstitious fuckers how to read, it'll get better. Until then, it's picture books for them, and horses for everyone else."
 
"Right, then. Endosteel project, what's your status?" I asked. Looking straight at me, Sokoloy tried to grab the liquor bottle, before missing as Howler saved it. Sighing, he just raised his hands to the heavens.
 
"I want to strangle every Star League engineer with my bare hands and line their bodies up in front of my mech so I might make an example to all who follow in their stead."
 
"It can't be that bad," Howler muttered. "At least your planet is kinda literate."
 
"I will not let you call a 65% literacy rate anywhere near acceptable. They are all glorified servitors on that dustball, and I would rather they formally have the title so I don't need to worry about hurting their feelings!"
 
"Easy, Sokolov," I muttered. "Calm down. What's the issue."
 
"We picked Farandir because it had two aerospace-related production lines," Sokoloy grumbled. "The first, an aerospace materials foundry. The second, a fasteners production line. In retrospect, this was a trap. The fact we have to build a space station one piece at a time via launching it up in a cargo-fit Union is making this very difficult, and the engineers we have contracted from our firms have zero experience in zero-gravity design concerns, or outer space vacuum design concerns."
 
"So our testbed station keeps blowing itself up?" I asked.
 
"Worse: it develops chronic, yet solvable flaws. We have not learned how to build a space station so much so as to fix one and provide hospice support to one as it dies. I believe we may need to contract out a core system from Andurien, install it, and then build out from there. Either that, or accept we are going to have supply loss of approximately one ton per twenty four hours and plan accordingly. Considering the value of endo-steel and the fact that our operational mixology and foundry modules have remained in good shape? It may be worth the steep cost of operations."
 
I nodded. That cost would bankrupt us if we couldn't get endo steel moving, though. "If need be, we can shovel some profit over from the Extra Light Engines lines. Sorry if that makes issues, Howler."
 
"Nah, take the money. Right now all my problems are in teaching the idiots how to count to four without missing three."
 
I sighed. "Well, now that that's cleared up-"
 
"This is when you tell us about the Light PPCs, riiiight?" Howler asked.
 
"Fine, fine," I grumbled, before switching to Mandarin for the tankers' collective comfort. "Nominally, Lucky's now the one in charge of the LPPC handling. Lucky, can you explain for us the current status of production?"
 
"Yes, Captain," he said, making a short seated bow before tapping the table twice for a drink. "Currently, our technicians and factory-workers have increased flow to approximately eighty Prototype LPPC units per month. This increase in production has been subsidized by the development of an on-site tooling shop, several simplifications in part design to allow for less sophisticated manufacturing processes, and by quintupling factory staff. On-site apprenticeships are still needed to develop our workforce, but the presence of the University and the ComStar HPG facility have kept literacy rates high enough we do not need to stoop to Lieutenant Howler's solutions.
 
Howler pinched her face a little, but said nothing. Instead, I said it for her. "We are not working with even grounds, Lucky. Some of us will be handed more difficult opening positions than others, because it is the belief of our leadership that they are able to conquer the task at hand."
 
"This one understands, Captain."
 
Good to cut that off at the knees with a subtle reprimand. "Concerning informational security, how spy-ridden is the plant?"
 
"As per your specific orders, we haven't been removing identified spies at this time. Currently, there are one hundred and sixty-five personnel who have been found to have confirmed theft of information or material objects from the factory. In addition, there are seven hundred and twenty-two suspected of the same."
 
I smirked. "Excellent. Our stalking horse is working."
 
"As you will, Captain."
 
"I know it seems strange, Lucky, but I do have a plan. Now, Ganges, on to your bailiwick: the Light Gauss Rifle project."
 
Ganges visibly flinched, and I took a sip of my drink. That wasn't good. "I am very sorry for the mistakes made, sir, but the Light Gauss Rifle project has not progressed. Due to a shortage of technical staff, poor literacy on Megarez, and low supply throughput, we have not been able to expand beyond initial prototype fabrication and tool assembly."
 
"I understand," I said lightly- and I did. Lucky and Ganges were the two least educated of the nominal officers here, because nominally they weren't officers. Capellan line tank commanders were non-coms, and Canopus broadly followed that practice because it was a lot more practical in the long run to keep the armor branch free from purchased commissions at the per-tank level. This in turn meant a lot more non-coms a lot higher up the food chain and a lot more mustang officers- but it also meant that there were a lot of very important, very senior corporals who'd had to pick up the slack from officers that weren't capable of owning up to their commission. As a command sergeant and a star corporal respectively, both were running at the limits of their ability right now- especially because they were currently training to become officers!
 
Well, if a NAIS degree could kick me in the ass hard enough to make me a decent lance leader and mercenary captain, it'd kick these two hard enough to make officers out of them too.
 
"Well, with that done-" I said, right before Mersies burst into the room.
 
"I did it," she said, gasping and falling into my lap. "I fucking did it. We got the audience with Hanse."
 
Laughing, I rubbed Mersies' head, right behind the ears in that sweet spot of muscles that controlled them and felt oh-so-good to scratch. "How'd you do it?"
 
"She had to get me involved," the Kid- Emma Centrella- said, smiling and rubbing her head. "It turns out the 'I know where a fuckload of LosTech is and I want to help you get it' line works better when there's actual royalty backing it up. Speaking of which: what the fuck are you offering the guy?"
 
"I was gonna throw him Helm. They haven't found Helm yet, right?"
 
"Where's that?" Emma asked.
 
"Some dump in the Free World's League, we've got it on the atlas somewhere. Also, more importantly, way the fuck away from here. We need something local, damnit!"
 
"Okay, fine, Halstead Station?"
 
"Already hit that one, that's where NAIS came from! Didn't you pay attention at orientation? Either of them?"
 
"Uh, that mythical one south of the Cappies?"
 
"That one's a myth, keep thinking."
 
"Galtor?"
 
"Fuck it, sure," I said, groaning. "Why the fuck are all the good LosTech finds not in this quarter of the galaxy? Still, Galtor was small fry, we need more."
 
"I'll get my book," Ganges said, pulling out his dataslate. "Search by successor state, filter out the weird ones… Bristol? Alloway- no, that's too far, Illyria we'd need to invade the Palatinate."
 
"What's Bristol got?" I asked.
 
"Some mechs and tanks, nothing substantial."
 
"So we've got Bristol, Galtor, and Helm. Good enough."
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====Meeting between Fox and the Heir====
New Avalon- Offices of the First Prince
September 26th, 3023
Forming up behind Emma, I looked across to Mersies carefully. Since we were nominally mercenaries, not MAF, we didn't get to wear MAF uniforms for this. However, on the converse side of that, MAF uniforms looked like dogshit. Emma had squared this particular circle by helping us design and patent a company dress uniform for the Harvest Blades: a white blouse, turquoise vest with all needed insignia, and black slacks leading to cavalry boots. It wouldn't be fun, but I could certainly pilot in it in a pinch.
 
Now if only the uniforms were the most important thing we had to worry about. We were walking into the lair of a Carrion Lord, here to tempt and to taunt him about how much of the Star League's corpse he could desecrate into a bigger hat, while sitting on piles of information that should be at this time classified to fuck and back. It was rather, I imagined, what going into the mouth of a wyrm to brush his teeth would feel like.
 
Sneaking out to hold my hand for a second, Mersies looked me dead in the eye, before flicking her ears in a certain pattern. It was the quietest little signal we'd ever practiced, that defied organized code.
 
I love you
 
I know. 
 
With that, we entered. Hanse Davion's offices were a plush suite, with a number of small secretarial desks around, the entire area brightly lit. Several walls were covered in tri-v screens, others in pushpin boards or old fashioned slates with piles of chalk sitting around. Every bit was either the image of plush royalty designed for user comfort, or an operational office that was furiously working to refine and process a mountain of information.
 
Then we met the man himself. With a wide, bullish face, it would be easy to assume he'd be just another working man if it were not for the sharp cut of his hair and the piercing gaze that swept over us with the intensity of a laser. Here, the clothes didn't make the man- instead, it was the other way around, that elevated the simple black shirt and brown slacks with loafers into the work-wear of a warrior-king. This was no affair of state, which made it all the more terrifying. This was three students of NAIS trying to talk their dean into allowing a field trip.
 
"Good morning, Miss Centrella," Hanse began. "I was quite curious when you said you were interested in starting to coordinate for a few sites of LosTech that you knew of within my borders. Interesting, that you'd go up to the head of state for that, instead of attempting to make local deals that'd get you a cut of the haul."
Emma offered a small shrug, her dress moving gently. "I'm not used to working with such a lavish display of resources, Your Majesty. In the Magistracy, we go to the person we know we can negotiate with: not the lower-level feeders."
 
That earned a raised eyebrow. "Then let's talk about what you feel worth my time."
 
Moving into a private, sealed office, I opened my satchel and handed Emma a small dataslate we'd pre-loaded the relevant information into, and made sure had never been uploaded with anything else in case we had to leave it here.
 
"There's three caches we want to go over," Emma explained. "The first two are simple affairs to get to and retrieve the technology from. The third one is… not. As such, our sincere hope is that you'll get the two caches we know about, and take our word on the third."
 
Hanse raised an eyebrow at this. "Because it is, of course, either in the Deep Periphery, or otherwise in enemy territory; and yet you consider it enough of a motherload to be worth the risk of doing another fight like Halstead on top of it."
 
 I snorted softly. The Davion Fox was using his kids gloves on us for this, letting us see him work like this. It wasn't a bad ploy though: it both encouraged us to fear his intellect, and more critically to understand that it would be a waste of time for everyone involved if we tried cheap tricks.
 
"Oh, that's not the half of it," Emma said with a slight smile, having come to the same conclusions I did. "Not only is it on the Free Worlds League border, it is on the Lyran border thereof."
 
"And what makes you think I'm in a position to secure a cache in that location?" Hanse asked rhetorically.
 
"Because," Mersies said for the first time, "your counter-intelligence apparatus has some major leaks. MIM agents found credible evidence you were not in residence of New Avalon in February last year. Then, in May, we had evidence that DropShips with Davion diplomatic ensigns were in Terra. Our Terran operatives, few though they might be, revealed that they visiting Hilton's Head- at the same time as our Lyran branch reported the disappearance of the Steiner dynasty and their needs to take a trip to Terra."
 
"While entirely conjecture," I continued, "it is fairly important to realize that the Free Worlds League, Capellan Confederation, and Draconis Combine signing the Kapteyn Concords suggests strongly that there is some degree of alliance between yourself and Katarina Steiner. An alliance that, presumably, would withstand the load of bearing the single largest LosTech cache we've ever been able to pick up."
 
Hanse snorted lightly. "Well. Competent intelligence-work aside, we return to the central question: namely, why me. As prestigious as a private meeting with the First Prince of the Federated Suns is, Duchess Centrella, I doubt it'll get you very far in the knife fights around being declared the next Magestrix."
 
"Because, First Prince," Emma said, "the LosTech is bait. Very shiny, very useful, and very educational bait, but it is in fact bait. We're not here for that."
 
The Fox smiled, and the tension in the room ratcheted itself up a notch. "Then what is the trap?"
 
"We know about the Federated Commonwealth Accords, and speaking as the heir apparent of the Magestrix of Canopus, approve of them. As such, we'd like to offer negotiations on the inevitable and just division of spoils when it comes time to turn the Capellan Confederation into the Inner Sphere's largest kebab skewer."
 
"And what possible reason would I ever have for enacting such violence against my fellow Successor Lord?"
 
Mersies broke ranks first, looking at Hanse like he'd turned into an actual fox. "You serious? There's the raiding, the pillaging, McCarron's War, the Hasek-Davion scandal, the whole doppelganger plot we're not sure if it actually is a thing or just counterintel bait, the whole Romance of St. Ives-"
 
Shutting Mersies up by bodily throwing my hand in front of her mouth, I coughed. "If you're to maintain an alliance with the Lyran Commonwealth," I explained, "it stands to reason you want a steady spacelane to it. Taking out the Capellan Confederation secures your border, lets you print out a new march, has a secure line of travel away from the damn Dracs, and most importantly doesn't risk-"
 
This time, it was Mersies' turn to shut me up, just as I was about to say "the fucking Clanners". Sighing dramatically, Emma just shook her head.
 
"Most people in the Magistry of Canopus work two jobs. As you can see, these MechWarriors are also part-time comedians."
 
That at least earned a laugh from the Fox. "Well, I can't fault them for that routine!" he said, smiling. "So you've figured out the rough course of the Federated Suns. Presumably, you're going to make your own plans around this, and want to coordinate so we're not stepping on each other's toes. Considering you want to hand over a cache of LosTech in Free World League territory, that means you need a distraction: Katarina dropping a few Atlases on Janos' head should do the trick. The only thing you'd need a distraction that big for, though, would be wholesale secession: presumably the Anduriens, since they've been the most offended by any hint of centralization proposed by the Captain-General. From there, you then take a bite out of the Capellan southern border, possibly finally annexing the… Aurellians? No, Auregians down there to clean up transit lines. Throw in a royal marriage to tie the lot together, and you'd have a decent little state while letting me do the lion's share of the work."
 
Now all of us were standing there, mouths hanging open.
 
"All in all? A fairly solid plan," Hanse said with a little smirk. "I'll give it a B+. Good use of current events, good read on present actors, excellent understanding of your own forces to conduct operations with. The only problem is I figured it out about the time you mentioned getting the Lyrans involved."
 
"I'm not sure if I should be complimented on the high marks, or insulted you figured it out that fast," Emma muttered.
 
"Considering the opposition's position here? Go for the compliment," Hanse said lightly. "Might I suggest we retire to the sitting room to get to work on executing this little plan's details?"
 
"Wait, hold on, you're going for it?" Mersies asked.
 
"Miss Szeny, why wouldn't I? For the low, low price of recognizing your war gains and possibly supplying some material aid, I get an additional.. Call it twenty regiments of troops? That's a very easy price to pay, before you add in those Star League caches."
 
None of us said anything at that one, just nodding in synch.
 
"The point being, however," Hanse said lightly, "that this is both a plan that has achievable goals in the political arena, and one in the military one."
 
With that, he stood, and led us out of the obvious office to a small, almost break-room like arrangement. Three plush couches and a pair of armchairs, a nice coffee table, a stack of rental noteputers, and a tri-v screen broadcasting a muted football match decorated the area, while a pair of industrial refrigerators purred away in the corner, glass fronts clear.
 
"Welcome to the lounge," Hanse said, settling down into one of the armchairs with a smile. "My fridge is your fridge- because this will take a while, I think."
 
With that, we all settled down, getting to the brass tacks of things.
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====What is the Score?====
New Avalon- NAIS Main Campus
September 27th, 3023
"Hey, Nyan?"
 
"Yes, Mersies?"
 
"When did we take Course 4072?"
 
"Which one is that again?"
 
"Let me check… 'Introduction to Interstellar Politics' apparently."
 
My nose twitched. "Mersies, what score did we get?"
 
"An 87% grade apparently."
 
My face hit my hand, and I groaned. "Damnit, Hanse."
 
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===Trouble with Bull on the Border===
New Avalon, NAIS Main Campus
January 3rd, 3024
 
Sitting in my dorms while packing the bowl of Mersies' christmas gift to me- a nice war kiseru, cast from BAR-10 armor- I got ready to take a nice smoke out on the balcony before classes resumed this week. Everything back home was going according to plan, nothing was on fire, and I was blowing through classes like nothing else. Life was good.
 
Then my phone rang. Called ID put it down as Emma, so I picked it up as I went outside to light up.
 
"Yo," I said, confidently.
 
"Nyan, we got a fucking problem," Emma snapped. "The Taurians stuck their dicks in the Reach."
 
"The gay cowboys did what?" I asked, scrounging for a lighter. "Like, Kid, I just got back from a date with Mersies, baby steps here."
 
"Goddam fuckstick catboys sticking their dicks in everything-" Emma growled. "Listen to me very carefully. The Magestrix decided to try and vassalize the Auregians. It was working, too, right until King Somebody up and died like a bitch in a JumpShip accident. Civil war breaks out two years ago, it's fine, we've got an in with her heir and we're funding their mercs… and then it goes to shit. The Taurians sent a battalion in to quote, 'guard mercantile assets' unquote, and we need to counter that."
 
"Alright, but how do we come into it?"
 
"We need to match the battalion with a battalion, and you're the closest asset we've got."
 
"Time out," I grumbled, finally getting the long pipe lit. "I don't have a battalion. I barely have a company."
 
"Time in, you'll have a company when you get to Panzyr. Remember the Endosteel debacle?"
 
"It was a fucking disaster, of course I remember!"
 
"Yeah we got that shit working, and came up with the, uh, you called it Elementals?"
 
"That's the Clanner name for it, but yeah. Battle Armor in our parlance."
 
"Yeah, well it's light enough some bright spark figured out how to cram a company of mixed Battle Armor and actual armored vehicles into it. No mechs, but a short company of mechs, a company of armor, and a company of Elemental infantry is what we've got to send. I'm in command."
 
Breathing out, I tried to focus. "This is very, very stupid. Sending me, not great, but I think I can handle battalion command in a pinch. I used to run a reinforced company back up-time, but this is literally your first command position."
 
"I know, and I'm not happy, and neither are the Royal Guard. We're fighting under the Harvest Blades mercenary colors for this one, too. I think the Magestrix is playing politics here, and I don't like it."
 
"For, or against us?"
 
"Against," Emma said with a growl. "I think this was supposed to be a form of polite exile- 'go learn being a mechwarrior for a little bit honey' sort of thing. I know the DNI hookups were her trying to get me to ditch that career path, but this is- frustrating. Now she's trying to get me killed off to get my faction at court to disband so she can put one of her other kids in place."
 
I blinked. "Other kids?"
 
"Nyan I'm first of… six now?"
 
"Six?!" I shouted. "When the fuck?!"
 
"Artificial wombs, Nyan, they're not that hard. Do you really think the Magestrix would suffer the constraints of pregnancy?"
 
"I mean, yeah, but still-"
 
"Oh calm down about it. She married some ex-samurai with a Stinger and he's been making moon eyes at her in all the papers, so you'll still be able to visit in the night without any issues, or just wait for him to get himself killed since he's a Stinger pilot."
 
"Hey, I was a Stinger pilot, I resent that!"
 
"Yeah, and now you're a cat in a Catapult, so can it. Is there a soggy chance in Hell you can scrounge up more war material for us to bring to the party here?"
 
"I can maybe get us a pair of Stukas, but that's a pair of Stukas. Good planes, but we don't have anything with ASF bays!"
 
"What about 'mechs?"
 
"We have two heavyweight lances of the things, we don't need more. Just, see if you can scrounge up a Leopard or something we can use to throw the planes with, we'll take it on a MAF service bond. Fucking hell, this is gonna be a mess!"
 
"You're telling me!" Emma snapped. "Listen: I'm getting the mechs re-painted tomorrow, get your birds, I'll put Howler on the Leopard CV since it'll be an aero carrier, and… shitfuck. We gotta be wheels up by the 12th. I have a little over a week to plan a deployment!"
 
"Listen, calm down Kid," I said, breathing deeply. "Call your profs, get this all cleared up. I'm gonna get the Stukas handled. Howler can buy a Dropship, she's done it before. Meanwhile, I'm sending Sokoloy over to the NACC."
 
"You're sending one of our officers… to church."
 
"The New Avalon Catholic Church has a lot of tools at their fingertips, and even if the Knights Defensor might not be as good as they once were, they'll have something," I insisted. "It's a long shot, but they haven't failed me yet."
 
"Fine, send Sokoloy over. Just make sure we're packed and ready to go on time. I feel like we're getting set up to fail, here."
 
"Oh, she is," I said, before bringing the lit pipe to my lips with a small smirk. "The question is if we can get enough speed from falling so we can learn to fly."
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