InaG Chpt 21-3

==It's not a Gundam - Chapter 21 -Part 3 - Heir Apparent- Book 2 -==
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===Dragon Repulsing Dolls===
Industrial Complex 7 (Decommissioned), Vega VII
Vega System, Draconis Combine
June 3027
The sword in his hand was sharp. Just not the sharpness of a human-scaled model. If anything the edge was there to concentrate the force and weight of the blow. The result remained all the same.
 
A disemboweled Leo slumped over with electric cables and hydraulic hoses spilled out. It was neither the first nor last.
 
Familial falling out or not Theodore was still the son of the Coordinator, still the heir apparent. Men who would want his father dead also wanted the same for him. Perhaps more so given his desire to reform the Combine.
 
The Drone Attacks were random as they were prolific. Dormant machines would activate for no reason and their list of targets ranged from men like him to their enemies and those aligned with neither.
 
A day ago a Workmech turned on by itself, going on a rampage as it wreaked havoc across a Guild-managed Spaceport on the home world of his military unit.
 
Two weeks ago a Dropship crew lost control of their ship and with horror watched as it slammed at full burn into the ground. The fact it was one of Legion of Vega's own handful of Droppers hinted their real target well enough.
 
Last month the HPG station was struck by Exoskeletons. Not gunmen in exoskeletons. Actually Industrial Exoskeletons with cavities clearly missing an operator but held lasers in death grip as they gunned down whoever was in sight.
 
It seemed to not end. Here on Vega or elsewhere.
 
The Davions and Steiners jumped at shadows just as the Dragon's Samurai did.
 
There was always a sleeper poised to activate, always a hidden stockpile somewhere ready to strike at a moment's notice. The Mobile Dolls were without honor, number, ... or hesitation.
 
Theodore gritted his teeth as the Leo he had just bisected pulled itself forward, reaching for his Mech's legs before he stomped down upon the OZ mech's head. Lately even the wrecks that dotted space would try to ram their ships if only to cause as much harm as possible.
 
For Vega, at least he wanted to ensure the system was pacified. One broken stronghold at a time.
 
The target was a once thought abandoned industrial park. Simply one of many. Vega VII was an ecologically rich and highly industrious world due to the strict and tightly planned colonization and terraforming program of it's original settlers. This place was left to be decommissioned and reclaimed by nature; whatever that wasn't stripped for salvage was either aged beyond use or obsolete enough to not be considered Lostech.
 
Instead he glared at a malevolent metal hive, spilling out a sea of mindless killing machines for their mysterious master. It was under his nose, under the DRAGON's nose for a long time and he took offense.
 
The Legion of Vega took offense as well. They were considered the dregs of the DCMS, some disgraced, some dissident, all of them considered the expendable fodder of Kurita's Free Floating units. But Vega was their home and that was enough for the three understrength, undersupplied regiments of the Legion to descend upon the Mobile Dolls with the wrath of an angry god. And listen to Theodore for once.
 
Drone vehicles and infantry came out of the woodwork to overwhelm them. It was like a flood breaking across the rocks. One wrong move and they would be swallowed beneath a sea of metal. Bombardment had failed. Between the point defenses and the Electromagnetic 'Fence' no aircraft or artillery had yet to meaningfully harm the automated factory.
 
He did what he must. He rallied the Legion of Vega in it's entirety to end the threat, picking the best of the Militia, Police, and Security personnel for support as he led an assault.
 
He lifted his arm just in time to block an RPG anime square at his cockpit. A single sweep of his small laser ended the exoskeleton. Unfortunately half a platoon took it's place. Without fear or sense of self-preservation the drones would walk into a kill zone just to line up a shot. It was not the first near-death experience in this fight. It was not the last.
 
Battlemechs brawled with mobile suits. With barrels glowing hot and magazines emptied the DCMS spilled blood and oil with bare metal hands.
A Panther to his left with a sword not unlike his own ran through a Leo trying to punch him.
 
A Hunchback to his right grappled with a Tragos. Both shoulder-cannon wielding machines tried to line up their guns on their enemy.
A Lancelot swept the skies clear of VTOL drones but did not expect a disintegrating Aries to full burn right toward it out of last ditch spite.
 
He himself charged forward. His response was a sword to the face. Whatever that was in his reach he cut down with steel. Dashing what was left with his heavy feet. Whatever that was beyond his reach he cut down with burning light. His Neurohelmet's built-in displays tracked his eyes. What he could see he could shoot; what he could shoot he would kill. The laser-array of his mech synchronized four small lasers in tandem instantly cycling, focusing, and adjusting to cut down target after target.
 
The longest minutes of his life passed as the DCMS crossed no man's land. The barrier was torn down. The turrets destroyed. The buildings gutted by lasers and flamethrowers.
 
As autocannon shells bounced off layered E-Carbon he found his quarry: the Drone Controller. It was the only non-OZ mech in the horde, it was also the only enemy mech with obvious Command and Control hardware and emitted a garbled encrypted mess over the radio waves: A Black Knight.
The Black Knight turned to stare at Theodore. It's pilot likely froze, Theodore mused to himself that it was expecting the future Coordinator to use his Orion or a 'proper' steed like a Dragon rather than a Charger of all Mechs.
 
It was still calculating as he pointed his sword at the machine. outright declaring it's pilot would die today for transgressions against the Dragon.
Now after having physically rolled over the EM Fence the artillery took there chances.
 
Missiles shrieked up into the sky from Longbow and Archer batteries joining the boom of Tragos howitzers and the thud of Leo Dober Guns. For it's part the Black Knight reacted, commanding his thralls to impose themselves in front of it like meat shields. While fire and dust was kicked up from the barrage it surged forward, joined by the tattered remnants of it's escort.
Mechs broke off into individual duels and it was only proper he challenged the leader. His lasers met it's PPC but with their armor and their abnormal reflexes neither was conclusive. They circled and strafed, weaving between volleys with a grace ill-fit for giants.
 
'Melee it was.' he concluded.
 
Theodore broke off from the dance and closed the distance. Why it took a Cameron to convince House Kurita to embrace the sword Theodore did not know. Only that not every MechWarrior embraced melee combat when it became a necessary skill.
 
The Black Knight was one of them. Despite the greater amount of armor they could not shield themselves from the flurry of blows. The Mech's frame crack and groaned with impact after impact as Theodore rained blows up on it as the MechWarrior tried and failed to strike him with clumsy haymakers.
 
Victory seemed in his grasp. Then it started dodging. Then it started blocking and parrying like a grappler.
 
Theodore wanted to say his enemy was a fast-learner but as he blasted the Black Knight's face point blank with his lasers he realized there was no cockpit to begin with. Just dozens of sensors and cameras behind the glass, watching him and the greater brawl around them. It was not fast learning; it was adapting.
 
Where he once was on the offensive the now revealed AI Commander pushed him to the defensive. No more clumsy punches. No awkward kicks or stomps. Everything was fluid and mechanical at the same time.
 
It knows how I fight. Theodore realized.
 
It studied him specifically ... and learned to fight him specifically. Every subconscious tells, every fidget in his drilled katas, every reflexive motion driving his Battlemech.
 
It knew when he overreached; and when to catch his arm mid-swing. The Black Knight slammed the PPC wielding arm under the Charger's 'armpit' in the gap between armored shoulder and torso.
 
"Kuso!" He could only curse once.
 
Outside of Gundam and the Tieren Taozi's Beam Sabers were new enough that none had yet to develop them.
 
The Black Knight didn't have it either; but it had a close second. Somewhere between a proper particle beam and flamer the particle 'blowtorch' setting it had cut through the Charger's arm like a hot knife through butter.
 
Theodore stumbled back sans a limb. The Mobile Doll Commander paused only to pry the sword from the detached arm.
 
Warily the Kurita watched it advance. Physical sword in one hand, particle sword seething in the other.
 
It was a fight not meant to be.
 
Theodore's attention was something else. Another force not Native to Vega now entering the fray.
 
<<"Nephew.">> An older voice rang out, <<"The serpent coils.">>
 
Theodore responded, "...The fangs are bared."
 
Yorinaga Kurita and the Genyosha had been sent to intercept Melissa's ship to the Federated Suns. The Guild caught wind and the closest thing to a reborn Blackwatch ensured no blood was spilled. While the Genyosha left empty-handed they were still a free-floating regiment and he gambled that were not a threat the machine's masters had calculated into their plans.
 
Yorinaga and the Genyosha struck while the Mobile Dolls were distracted. The best and most fierce the Dragon had to offer on short notice descended upon the drones with the wrath of an angry god.
 
New Hatamoto-chi variant Chargers, Snub/ER PPC Lancelots, and near Royal grade Dragons crashed into unsuspecting Leos. At the tip of the spear was Yorinaga himself in a Warhammer that looked to match the Natasha Kerensky's own Black Lady in speed and power.
Theodore had no stake in rumors but watching the AI driven tanks, Mechs, and VTOLs seemingly ignore his uncle's very existence, the way they flailed in panic trying to find the enemy right in front of them, lended credence to his uncle's powers.
 
The enemy line collapsed entirely. While unable to feel fear or route the disorder took a toll on the Mobile Dolls' cohesion. The Black Knight tried and fail to direct it's thralls and never expected to have it's knees blasted out from under it by the infantry that Yorinaga brought with him.
 
DEST soldiers and Combine infantry in Mobile-Petites who had rode atop their MechWarrior brethren set out to provide support to the native Vegans or to breach the inner workings of the complex.
 
Theodore leaned back on his seat. It was over.
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===Suspected Backers===
Not one person occupied the complex. It has been running fully automated for weeks; a fact that proved troubling for the Kuritans and the ISF embedded with them.
 
If his men were glory hogs that rushed in rather than wait for reinforcements, if he didn't allow infantry to play a key part rather than relying solely upon Battlemechs he would have been dead alongside most of Vega itself. The greater DCMS would have sneered at how untraditional or samurai the Legion was. Theodore cared less.
 
Against Cameron, let alone the Steiners and Davions they faced an evolving enemy where archaic ideas would leave to an early grave for the Combine.
 
'Now.' Theodore thought with distaste, 'it includes these Mobile Dolls.'
 
Estranged from his father, the future Coordinator instead conversed with his father's Spymaster and his cousin Chandrasekhar. Neither Indrahar or the Merchant Prince could find the source of the machines. Or the source of the Exarch's. At least the Federated Commonwealth was a familiar foe. Both threats came from out of nowhere.
 
This factory was a vital lead ... and source of technology. The ISF was as much here to investigate the Mobile Dolls as they were to repurpose this complex in the name of the dragon. The Beam Saber prototype alone would lead to inroads in court.
 
While his men celebrated with wine, sake, and mead flowing freely Theodore was with Yorinaga and an ISF team; they had found the server room. Under their supervision the technicians sifted though an encrypted labyrinthian computer network. It was a difficult task. Even after cracking passwords and decrypting files they were still staring at tables upon tables of gibberish IDs referencing other IDs and numbers and letters with no frame of reference. This was not Star League English. It was language that only the Mobile Dolls could fluently parse.
 
"Rasalhague." Yorinaga finally spoke after lowering a Noteputer of preliminary reports.
 
"Rasalhague?" He replied.
 
It was the only name that kept popping up in the records. Rasalhague was an early conquest of the Combine, some of it's people still resisting the erasure of their culture and identity, the Tyr movement and the diaspora in the Lyran Commonwealth among them.
 
"The rebels defy the Dragon and doing so cavort with CASPAR technology."
 
"They are not the only ones." Theodore conceded.
 
Yorinaga shook his head, "Unlike Amaris' hellspawn the Exarch's creations have ... a life of sorts to them."
 
"I do not believe these are the Tyr's creations."
 
"Explain." The older Kurita spoke with neither condemnation or confusion. Almost as if he expected the heir of the Combine to reach some cother conclusion.
 
'A test then.' Theodore thought.
 
"This is Vega. Part of the Dieron District. The Tyr are trying to free Rasalhague. Another district entirely."
 
"Except you are Takashi-dono's son. An object of their anger."
 
"And drawing the anger of Comstar so blatantly would ruin them. Lyran backing or not. And if they had the resources they would not waste them with meaningless terrorism when they could have used them to begin an uprising."
 
"You are forgetting something else. Who has been attacked just as severely on Vega?"
 
"...The Guild."
 
"They," the elder samurai muttered, "dare bare their fangs at the Dragon, the Blakists, and now the closest thing to a Star League reborn. Why?"
 
"I do not know." Theodore admitted.
 
"Neither do I, nephew." Yorinaga answered, with some hint of approval, "Either they are fools of the highest level ... or they possess the power to do so."
 
"For all our sakes I hope it is the former."
 
"Agreed."
 
"Tempers will flare. I have seen too many Samurai blind themselves with rage and they will find someone to blame and to focus their anger upon."
 
Steiner and Marik troops grew restless. No one claimed responsibility but Commando Drones had been involved in attacks in League space and Spider Drones were vice versa in Lyran space. It did not help that both sides had picked them to create their first Mobile Suits variants respectively.
 
No matter how much altruism Cameron did he was still a Cameron. Plenty in the Periphery hated Camerons and the SLDF on principle. Plenty who mistrusted his use of AI could now point to the Mobile Dolls and further drive a divide between the Exarch and the people he hoped to help.
 
No one to blame. Only bread crumbs and red herrings to lead Samurai to make enemies of allies and neighbors.
 
As if someone wanted to end the peace that was starting to form.
 
As if someone wanted to ensure the Inner Sphere and Periphery remained divided and drag them back into the societal death spiral that was the Succession Wars.
 
Theodore froze. Maybe that was the point.
 
"Tai-sa." One of the ISF agents spoke up, "You will want to see this."
 
They pointed to one of the displays in the room. Playing on it was a recording only just downloaded remotely from Vega VII'S HPG Station. It showed the on ground level the bustling spaceport of Atreus, the Marik capital. Dozens of Guild ships from Droppers to shuttles and ASFs were rising up to the sky while dozens more were being loaded with troops to ferry to waiting jumpers above.
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===Grumbling of a Mystery===
Arteus, Free Worlds League
Joining them was a smaller contingent of Marik troops. While looking outnumbered they moved as a cohesive force and with purpose. Janos Marik, The Old Eagle, was poised to brandish his talons.
 
The Captain-General stood beside a now awake Cameron. The Exarch may have walked with a limp and a cane with a bandage over half his face rather than a mask, but he walked toward the Ptolemaios with steel resolve.
 
The crowd was no less massive than the one at the Stadium but a staunch line of robots stood side to side watching the masses like a hawk. The press still pushed, still shouted over each other. Their questions blurred into each other reworded in some form or another.
 
"Were you really a Cameron?"
 
"Are you recreating the Star League?"
 
"Who tried to kill you?"
 
"Is House Marik sworn to you?"
 
The Exarch ignored them all. All of them except the pair of questions raised by Dana Chambers, of the Comstar News Bureau.
 
Why do you wear a mask? Why did you hide in a backwater?
 
The man stopped his stride. He turned no longer looking a like a battered henin but a leader of men. Despite the pale and flustered sickness of someone recently hospitalized his gaze was raw granite. It was not anger that he showed to Chambers. But even so she and by extension the press seems to wither beneath his gaze. Even Theodore was taken back.
 
The Exarch sighed as he found the words, "I am not Ian Cameron."
 
Silence reigned as all on Atreus waited with bated breath.
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===Statement to the Press on Atreus===
"I am and always will be my own man." He explained. "I don't expect to be First Lord. I don't plan to be either."
 
"If you are hearing this then I'm asking you to not fight for me. Or to fight for the Star League. Or Blake. Or Kerensky. Or Steiner, Davion, Marik, Liao, or Kurita."
 
"The same for something fleeting like glory or money."
 
"These are your worlds the enemy means to sack, your countrymen defending you they are cutting down. If they get through, it will be your houses they burn, your livelihoods they steal, your family they will enslave."
 
"I'm just one man. A maimed one at that. Just another man hoping to bring back the peace that our grandparents fought over for."
 
"But here we are, centuries past what anyone could ask of us. The Star League is gone. The SLDF is gone. The world we knew ... has moved on."
 
"And now, all that we may have left are those standing beside us, and the duty that defines us, battle after battle, fighting side-by-side, together."
 
"Where you see a bunch of upstart merchants and militia, I see family. Courage. And a thousand heroes who swore to fight their way through Hell before they ever, EVER turned their backs and run."
 
"And where you see a bunch of Periphery and Outback worlds ... I see home. And THAT is always worth fighting for!"
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===Reflection of a Possible Rival===
The Ptolemaios roared to life. The machine that lied dormant for months activated upon the return of it's master as if it had a mind of it's own, it might even be true.
Not to be outdone was the roar of approval. It did not just come from the mouths of the Junkers. Plenty of Marik men joined in. So did mercenaries. And plenty of the Atrean public.
 
//"If we don't stop these attacks now then we leave the galaxy at the mercy of another Amaris. So no Ms. Chambers, I won't be hiding anywhere today!"\\
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Theodore watched the video continue, the news broadcast replaced their title of 'Exarch awaits' with 'The Return of Cameron' mid airing.
 
To him it was clear now that the Exarch was a man that could not be defeated. He could only be killed but it would be meaningless.
 
Was this what you meant, father? Theodore thought to himself, When you declared Hanse Davion your equal and rival?
3027 would be known as the year the Successor Wars ended. It would also be the year that the Second Star League was declared no longer a fantasy, but an inevitability.
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==Chapter Notes==
*; Author's Chapter Notes :The Exarch's speech is a mishmash of two of my favorite speeches.The Charger that Theodore used was modified with a 'multi-lock' ability similar to the ones in Gundam that tracked and marked targets by eye movement.Chapter 22 will be a return to form with an Exarch POV and as a bit of a challenge to you all and myself I'm open suggestions for the next Grunt mech.
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Chapter 21-3