EMCOTS 40

=Emergence (Concertverse) - Chapter 40=
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==Preparations==
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===Treaty between Nations===
Royal Palace
Roslyn, Eastern Islay
Royal Federation
7th February, 3143
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The end of the customary weekend was not as quiet as it had previously been, by Trillian's reckoning.  The energy in Roslyn was at a fever pitch as the alliance had the Arcadians pushing forward with restoring deactivated units and preparing for the military effort of a campaign through the Glass.  Over a dozen BattleMech regiments, with attendant forces, were in motion towards the Glass, or preparing for such deployment, and units were being scheduled for re-activation with releases from the Arcadian strategic reserve stockpiles and increased orders from Defiance, Selassie, TharDef, and the other armament firms of the Federation.  Recruitment to the AFRF was spiking by reports, with a number of applicants seeking assignment beyond the Glass.  Local and interstellar efforts at bond drives would contribute to financing the war and the alliance provisions.  It was all so much.
But that wasn't the only source of energy.  February 8th had come, and with it, Nathaniel's formal coronation.  He'd inherited the throne the prior May with his grandmother's accidental death and by tradition waited until the new year.  Now rulers from across the Federation were on world to pay homage to their new High King, attending with diplomats and special envoys from half of the Successor States and ComStar.  She hadn't seen Nathaniel himself since they left the Senate triumphant, given the need for rehearsals and meetings to see to his coronation.
So she was both surprised and a little relieved to get the summons to visit his office on the eve of the ceremony.  She arrived and was shown in by Sophia Marik, who remained at the door once it closed.
Nathaniel was with Peter, but they were not alone.  Three other individuals were seated around the room.  She quickly recognized Lord von Kassel of Ghastillia, but it took her a few moments to recognize the others.
Ambassador Serafina Wotjak of the Communal League of Sudeten was seated nearest to the door, a tall woman — formerly an armored infantrywoman of the 1st Autonomous Assault Regiment — with a wide face and broad hips and shoulders, one side of her face still bearing burn scars from fighting in the Fourth Succession War.  Trillian had only met her briefly, really in passing, during the New Year's celebration, with most of her feelers to the Communal League being dealt with by Wotjak's subordinates.  Her clothing was austere and business formal, without some of the ornamentation of court uniform or dress that von Kassel and Trillian herself now wore.  Only a pin on her collar marked her official position, bearing the insignia of the Communal League and its flag: a white disc trisected by a three-pointed red star laid over a five-pointed green star.
The same was true for the man seated beside Wotjak, her colleague Hans Christian Heg, Ambassador of the Free Communal Republic of Rasalhague.  He was older than Wotjak, his face worn and his hair a silver-gray, thin as a rail.  His suit was respectful and had a more elaborate cut than Wotjak's, though it was still austere, devoid of any ornamentation save the stylized, wolf's head and dragon-serpent's head of silver filigree joined on a Nordic-style sun cross lined with runes.  Given distance, and the Rasalhague Republic's pressing need to see to the defense of their border with the Draconis Combine, Trillian had left them as a lower priority to her diplomatic efforts, though she'd heard from Lord Marienberg that Heg was sympathetic to the Lyran cause.
"Lady Trillian, thank you for joining us." Nathaniel said from his desk.  He indicated one of the open chairs around the table at the side of the office, under the century-old portrait of High King Thomas Proctor and High Queen Johanna Steiner.  Trillian settled into it, putting her across from the two COMINTERSTEL ambassadors.  "Tomorrow is going to be a long day, but I wished to get this matter settled given you will soon be departing for the Glass."
"Of course, Your Majesty," Trillian said respectfully. "is there a matter you seek to discuss?"
"It concerns the aid to the Commonwealth, and the necessary scope to put a definitive end to the Clan threat."
"I see."  And you alone can't send enough troops to completely defeat them. Having that confirmed by the materials released to her by the AFRF Command Staff upon the alliance's signing was a bit of a damper, even if it didn't change the bare fact that the alliance made the Commonwealth's survival possible.  It just meant it would take longer and be bloodier and we have already lost so much blood…  but maybe… dare I hope he's found a way to provide more aid?
"I will speak plainly to you, Lady Trillian."  Wotjak's voice was blunt and accented strangely.  Her people use the constructed language Esperanto as their official language, Trillian recalled. I wonder if that is the influence on her accent? "The Communal League believes it is the proper destiny of Mankind to end aristocracy, capitalism, and all forms of class and hierarchy that have for millennia kept workers' dreams and aspirations suppressed.  We do not approve of your Commonwealth any more than we accept the social system of the Federation or the Ghastillian Kingdom.  But we are practical people and can recognize when one system is better for workers than another.  Your Commonwealth, though unacceptably flawed to us, is of greater kindness to the common people than the eugenicist madness of these Clans, as shown by the bloody butchery revealed to us.  So we are willing to make common cause with the Lyran Commonwealth to liberate the worlds held by the Clans and end their oppression once and for all."
"I appreciate the candor, Excellency." Trillian replied politely.  "I admit I was uncertain about our possible relations and did not pursue connections out of doubt, it's good to know where you stand."
Wotjak nodded once.  "I have had an alliance treaty drawn up as well, and I can assure you it would be ratified by the Communal Assembly."  She presented a noteputer to Trillian, who accepted it and started reading the text.
Much of the treaty was standard, virtually the same as Trillian wrote with Nathaniel.  She noted that the treaty was with the COMINTERSTEL alliance, not just the League.  "Rasalhague is a party then as well?"
"We and our allies do not always move in lockstep, but in this matter, the Communal Republic is in full agreement."  Heg's expression remained stoic, but his eyes flashed with muted anger.  "These Clans must be destroyed for their crimes, and the FolksArme is ready to join the war."
"It would be a separate treaty, I see, to those I've already signed."  She nodded to Kassel, who nodded back.  "Though there are to be consultations?"
"Strategic consultations on who will fight where, to ease logistics and prevent misunderstandings." Kassel said.
"Right."  They were enemies.  Are still enemies, if amicable ones. "And to work around the truce the Arcadian commanders agreed to?"  Trillian cast her eyes towards Nathaniel.  "I was informed your General Bridger and General Singh agreed to a five year truce between your forces, and our forces, with the Falcons."
"They were not authorized to pursue such terms, though I will uphold them."  Nathaniel motioned to the others present. "Of course, I do not speak for our prospective allies, who were not party to said agreement, nor did the Falcons request their participation."
In other words, Rasalhague and Sudeten are not covered by the truce agreement Chistu required before she agreed to put the fight for Timkovichi down to a single duel, so no point in repudiating the agreement.  Trillian went through the final terms.  And there we are.  "Article 16… I see.  That is your price?"
"It is,." Wotjak said, her tone firm.
She quietly read over the text again.  "The Lyran Commonwealth agrees to free emigration in perpetuity of all residents to the COMINTERSTEL worlds, and will not impede by any means of regulation, fee, or other duty or obstruction the right of peoples of their worlds to emigrate to the COMINTERSTEL worlds.  The Lyran Commonwealth recognizes the rights of COMINTERSTEL to publish the terms by which life among the COMINTERSTEL worlds is maintained and advise potential emigrants on…"  They require us to let our people leave for their worlds.  She thought on the term and how it'd be seen back home.  There is little scandalous about it, but they will undoubtedly be seeking to recruit widely, especially among our educated.
She continued on to the bottom.  "I have no objections to these terms."  Trillian handed the noteputer back.  "I do have reservations on Article 16.  The Lyran Commonwealth desires to ensure that any emigrants who decide they wish to return may do so, and on the same grounds.  We also will need assurance that this treaty will not interfere with proceedings in family custody courts and that children taken unlawfully by emigrating parents will be returned if such a case comes up."
"We would be willing to submit any such cases to a neutral arbiter, with the best interest of the child or children factored in." Wotjak replied.
"As for lawful fugitives, we do not consider Article 16 to give away any right to search a ship for suspected fugitives from the Commonwealth's courts and justice system, or to detain them and return them to custody, notwithstanding protected classes such as diplomatic missions."
"We accept that statement, and so long as it is exercised responsibly and properly, it will not be challenged."  Wotjak grinned thinly. "Though we will regard abuse to be an abrogation of the treaty and demand compliance and compensation."
"Understood."  Trillian nodded. ;;"I will sign the treaty, then, and provide it alongside my existing treaties with the Royal Federation and Kingdom of Ghastillia for the Archon's ratification."
"Excellent."
"Then it is settled," said Nathaniel.  "our four states will work together to clear the Clans from the Commonwealth's worlds and end their abuses."
"Yes, we share a common cause once more." Heg said happily. "Our troops will begin moving at once.  The Glass has been cleared completely, correct?"
Nathaniel nodded.  "Yes.  Fourth Battle Fleet is securing the Timkovichi system and the Falcons are burning for their JumpShips as we speak.  Additionally, we invite you to join us in protecting the Glass, until such a time as the Clan threat recedes and the Lyran Commonwealth can assume defensive duties over Timkovichi."
"It will be passed on, King Nathaniel."  Wotjak stood.  "And as you have your ceremony tomorrow, we will not take up any more of your time.  Good day."  She nodded once and went for the door, where Sophia opened it without a word.
Heg lingered a moment longer, bowing respectfully to Trillian.  "I have observed your actions since coming to Arcadia, Lady Trillian.  You have been a spirited advocate for your bleeding nation, and have earned Rasalhague's respect and admiration.  We will have the formal treaty ready to sign within two days, with all your reservations accounted for."
"Thank you, Your Excellency," Trillian replied, bowing her head as well.  "From my studies of your history, I am filled with admiration for the spirit of Rasalhague's people on this side of the Glass.  It is a tragedy my side's Rasalhague did not long get to enjoy independence before the Clans ended it."
"Yes, it is."  Heg grinned wolfishly.  "We may yet do something about that, if the circumstances permit, but the Falcons must be dealt with first.  Good day, Lady Trillian, King Nathaniel."  With a final slight bow of his head, Heg departed.
Kassel bowed as well.  "I shall see you all tomorrow.  Good evening."  He walked out.
"It is done," Trillian said.  "Your four states, together, should be able to turn the tide decisively, so long as you arrive before Tharkad falls."
"Yes.  It is why I already have troops in motion, and JumpShips being prepared for transit through the Glass."
"And you will be with them?"  The moment she said the words Trillian noted Sophia's eyes lower thoughtfully.
"I will, yes," Nathaniel said.  "I cannot ask my soldiers to fight this war if I do not go to the front myself.  It would not be appropriate.  My Lifeguards, the Second Proctor Guards, and the Arcadian Rangers already have their orders to embark."
"I understand.  You will be welcomed on Tharkad, I will see to it."  Seeing the look in his eyes she quickly added, "I am certain you have matters to attend to before tomorrow, so I will leave you to them.  Thank you again for the invitation to the coronation, my staff is honored."
"And we are honored to host you."
With a final smile and agreeing nod, Trillian left the room.
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===Prayer for a Safe Return===
Typically Sundays were Prince Peter's day away from his office, but with the coronation ceremony to come he stepped in to get through the week's opening paperwork early.  As he was effectively leader of the government in terms of ensuring the domestic policies of Parliament's leaders were being enacted and the day-to-day business of government followed, the civil service always had papers for him to review.  The benefit to it being an off day was getting to have Kevin with him.
His husband, born Lord Kevin McGonagal of Cameron, was once a vital, broad-shouldered man, a MechWarrior of the Proctor Heavy Guards' First Battalion.  But old war wounds, a family history of cancer, and an onset of Webster Syndrome all combined to take their toll.  Cancers in his brain and stomach sapped his vitality and were, ever so slowly, robbing him of his motor functions, which were impeded anyway due to the Webster Syndrome, an after-effect of gyro feedback suffered when he was nearly killed by the Oriento-Capellan Empire's forces in the Fourth Succession War.  He was mostly bald now, with wisps of graying brown hair remaining on the crown of his head, and confined to a wheelchair given his difficulty walking.  Peter felt guilty just looking at him sometimes, as if his remaining strength was an insult to his dying lover.
For the moment, Kevin had a noteputer up.  "So far so good in the daily running of the Federation," he said, his voice about the only part of him still sounding like it had when he was barking commands over las-comm links to his company of assault 'Mech pilots.  "I'd say you managed to balance the budgets right."
"It took some work, but we found the pounds for it all."  And angered a few special interests, several government watchdog groups committed to reducing tax burdens, and the Royal Revenue Service that has to deal with the complaints.
"You think he's being a young fool, don't you?" Kevin asked.  "Our dear boy king."
Peter leveled his husband a sardonic look.  "He probably deserves better than to be called that."
"Ah. Sorry, I forgot that's how your mad cousin refers to him."  Kevin chuckled dryly.  "I was more thinking of the little boy who once proudly and defiantly declared he'd never fight a war, even when it made everyone in the palace furious."
Peter drew in a sigh and allowed himself a wistful smile.  "It took me time to set him straight.  Maybe I did the job too well.  Talking to him about his duty to his people, that the King must fight if his people need him too.  Now he has found a fight he thinks we need, and he will go join it."
"If we were to have ever had a son ourselves… well, listen to me."  Kevin shook his head.  "He was about it, I think.  The reason we never did.  Now we might lose him too.  I'm worried about that, for your sake.  You lost James, Jackie, now James' son will be out there, and here, I've not got long left."
"You'll make it through, you're strong." Peter snapped.  "Don't talk like that."
"Just being realistic, Peter.  And my worry is how it's going to hurt you.  You've lost too much."
Peter brushed the fear welling inside him away.  The cancer wasn't responding well to the therapy, he would likely lose Kevin before long.  And his sister was gone, the nephew he'd been responsible for, and the grand-nephew he'd helped to raise… if he lost all of them, he'd have so little left.  It wasn't like he was close to Thomas, or to Renard, and Johanna hadn't spoken to anyone in the family since both her children were killed at Sirius and Procyon in '23 as part of the MORNING STAR disaster.
Please God, bring him home, Peter prayed.  Bring Nathan home safe and sound.  Don't let him die out there…
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===Arnold and his dark thoughts===
The approaching coronation made the Palace busier than usual, much to Arnold's annoyance.  Nobles who'd not stepped foot here since Jacqueline became High Queen were present.  Dozens of dukes and planetary rulers in the Arcadia, Donegal, and Skye Marches were coming and going, making personal appeals of one kind or another before their day in the coronation to pay personal homage.  Access to Nathaniel was non-existent, and here he was, arranging plans and shuffling troops for a war he knew to be against the wrong enemy.  But Prince Peter's words were clear; any effort by Arnold to impede the war would see him removed and probably disgraced.  His only choices were to obey to the best of his ability or to resign.
Now he looked with pain and longing at his parents' portrait, wondering if he should just accept the latter.  Resign, go back to Stronburg, and actively move into the Opposition.  I am no politician, though, I am a soldier.  Here I can be of use, I can pick up the pieces when this effort inevitably fails, and lead our people into the war we should be fighting.
The door opened. "I'd heard you were moping, cousin," a voice called out.  "but certainly you might have spared a moment to meet my ship?"
Arnold's first instinct at the door opening was to berate his yeoman, but the thought died at hearing the soprano voice and soft Islay burr of his cousin and the brat boy king's aunt and presumed heir.  Princess Melissa Proctor-Steiner stepped into the room, wearing a formal court gown of Steiner blue mixed with Proctor red, a gold hawk crest on the left breast of the suit.  Her skin, a light brown from the influence of her Brewer bloodline, still looked young, though she was almost to her mid-40s now.
A quarter century separated them in age, but it was Lord Arnold, as commanding officer of the Fourteenth Donegal Guards, who brought the young Sanglamore-educated officer-candidate into his unit during the fierce fighting of the latter Fourth Succession War.  It was he who'd later sponsored her promotions all the way to Colonel in the peacetime AFRF, and in all respects supported her once she decided to change over to civil administration and support her heartbroken mother. They didn't always agree, but he was certain she would prove a better ruler than the foolish boy king they were about to crown instead.  If only the monarchy were elective within House Proctor.  I would have thrown my votes to her over Nathaniel without a doubt.
"I hear you and Uncle Peter had quite the row." Melissa said.
"He betrayed his duty," Arnold grumbled.  "he's let his sentiment towards Nathaniel overcome all prudent judgment of our situation."
"He's also a grieving spouse waiting for the day he'll be a widower." she pointed out.  "Though I'll admit Nathaniel is being obstinate.  A family trait, unfortunately.  We Proctors are utterly pigheaded when we think we're upholding a moral cause, you know that.  Even though you are more Steiner than Proctor."
"House Steiner's history is long and proud, House Proctor's distinguished but lacking in comparison," Arnold insisted. "So yes, I favor my Steiner heritage, and our destiny to restore the Lyran Commonwealth that Katherine Steiner built seven hundred years ago."
"I needn't tell you the mood on Skye is one of not caring on that distinction, only that Skye is protected and kept strong." she replied, easing into an available chair.  "Though I do worry about you, cousin.  Your temper towards my silly nephew can cause us more trouble, and do nothing to deal with the problem.  I hope you're not planning some foolish resistance to the war now that we're committed to it?  The people seem unified behind it, after all, I can feel their anger in the air, all thanks to those ghastly images from the other side of the Glass."
Arnold sighed and shook his head.  "Ghastly images, yes, but that doesn't mean we can afford to spend our strength when we face a threat ourselves.  While I considered the idea of trying to stall the war… no.  My oath must be obeyed.  Peter, damn his soft heart, reminded me of that.  I swore to protect the Federation, and I will do so, until my dying day.  I can only pray I am wrong about how this war will undermine our defenses."
Melissa nodded.  "Exactly what I expected to hear, cousin.  Perhaps this conflict will do Nathaniel good.  It may shake loose whatever pacifist inclinations he retains and ready him for whatever conflicts lie in our future."
"Perhaps."  I do not hold out the hope, Nathaniel is too certain of himself.  But miracles do happen. He dare not voice the treacherous, dark hope he sometimes felt, and which a part of him thought best though the rest of him was horrified by it.  The hope that Nathaniel would meet his end across the Glass, killed by his foolish crusade, and Melissa would be High Queen.  Then we would have a ruler with the mettle to face the Dowager Empress of Oriente and her puppet great-grandson.
"In the meantime, I believe I will continue my own efforts." she said.  "I have had numerous enlightening conversations with House Davion's consul on Skye these past years.  Lord Gregory Morgan of Kittery, you may have heard of him?  His grandfather was one of old Long Tom's Brethren pirates, you know.  A lot of those men and women still rankle at the Empire's treachery."
Arnold grinned at that.  "Yes, I think they would.  Still, the Davions have other concerns, and we can't be sure Tikonov and the Azami will be so willing to work with us as well."
"Not right now, but in time…"
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===Quiet conversation between future newlyweds===
Given what was to come on the morrow, Sophia finished her day with a quick visit to the Royal Chambers.  The guards checked with Nathaniel and immediately let her in.  She found him reading a noteputer, a quiet, grim sort of expression on his face.  He was in evening wear, a basic vest and shirt with leggings, all whites and blues, and no mark of his rank showing.  He looked up at her and, while he didn't smile, he did seem to relax.  'Sophia.  Don't tell me I forgot something?"
"Nothing important," she said, easing into the chair beside him.  "I just wanted to see how you were doing, given what a day we'll have tomorrow."
"Yes. The coronation."  He sighed, setting the noteputer down.  "The rehearsals went well enough.  Everything will be in place.  Bishop Stanford will perform the service well."
"I would hope so, though I imagine Cardinal Greevey is disappointed," Sophia remarked.  Presiding Bishop Stanford was the head of the Episcopalian Church of Arcadia.  They were the largest church on Arcadia, though concentrated primarily on the continent of Islay.  Nathaniel's church membership had only been decided recently, and unsurprisingly, was in line with Prince Peter's as opposed to his mother, who practiced the Umayr family's Hinduism, and his grandmother and father, who were Roman Catholics due to Jacqueline's decision to convert from the Steiner Lutheranism of Thomas and Ethan..
"I admit many of the doctrinal questions between the churches strike me as mere quibbles," Nathaniel said.  "The essence matters more.  But I think it will reassure many, and restore some sense of balance due to Grandmother's religious affiliations."
"That, it might very well do," Sophia said.  She shifted in the chair.  "It occurs to me that your work across the Glass won't just be military.  Archon Melissa will have concerns, and more, the Commonwealth will probably have a number of political problems.  And you'll need to keep aware of matters here.  Perhaps I should come to continue serving at your side."
Her look was pleading, but she saw no sign she would get her wish.  "I won't be performing day-to-day governance.  That'll be Sara-Marie's job, and she'll need your help."
Sophia knew well of whom he spoke.  Lady Sara-Marie Proctor was a distant cousin of Nathaniel's, the daughter of the controversial Princess Abigail, younger daughter of High Queen Sara-Marie.  "The Veterinarian Princess' daughter, then?"
"She served my grandmother well enough, on those few times Grandmother Jackie went offworld," Nathaniel said.  "And she is a common sense woman, I think you and Uncle Peter will work well with her in keeping matters at home going well."
"Right."  Sophia tried to hide her disappointment, but knew she wasn't.  Damn.  How does Uncle Kenneth do it?  All of those nobles with their poker faces!
"You really wanted to come with me?"
"More like I fear you will not come home," she admitted.  "These Clans sound ferocious, and the stories told by Lady Trillian, the Wolves may be more lethal than the Falcons when in combat."  She felt a tear in her eye and angrily wiped it away.  "Why must you go?  You've got commanders to lead in the field, and here, a people who need you.  You are risking everything you stand for by doing this.  If you were to die, where will that leave the peace you are creating with Emperor Robert?!  Your aunt is one of Arnold's creatures, for the Lord's sake!  She would make war with the Empire rather than peace."
"Don't underestimate, Aunt Melissa," said Nathaniel.  "Though we don't see eye to eye, she is not Arnold's puppet.  She has her own mind, whatever their past, and if the worst should come of it, I have faith she would do right by our people."  After a moment's pause he reached forward and took her hand with his.  His voice spoke with a gentleness that warmed her spirit.  "And after months of telling my people I stood for peace, I have suddenly declared war.  I must show them why I ask them to fight, why I'm risking so many lives, so much blood and treasure, on a cause many still are unsure of.  People like your father and your granduncle aren't wrong to be worried I'm doing the wrong thing.  At the very least, I must prove to them I am willing to back up my conviction with my own life and blood.  I have to show our people I am worthy to lead them, in peace and in war, by fighting, though even now I feel a dread in my heart at the prospect."  He swallowed.  "I know I may end up like my father, or like my great-grandfather, or his father in turn.  God will decide that, in the end."
There was a quiet moment between them at that admission.  Sophia felt the tears forming in her eyes ease away.  In some ways I am falling in love with this sweet, intelligent, kind man, she admitted to herself. How fortunate I am, unless he does not return. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his cheek.  "Then I will say no more, so I spare you any pain from my fears," she said, after which she stood.  "Sleep well, my King, my husband-to-be.  Tomorrow is a big day."
"It is," he agreed.  "I shall ensure it."
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EMCOTS 40