TEP Chpt 16

=The Eagle's Perch=
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==Chapter 16 - Settlement==
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===Difficult Decision===
Atreus, Marik Commonwealth
Free Worlds League
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Bertram Marik
Jefferies, Charles, and Herod sat with me in one of the many meeting rooms of Parliament. Half finished plates of fine Mexican dining and empty wine bottles filled the table. No expense was spared for our comfort and needs in order to keep our ability to think and strategize at its best. We had been meeting for the past two days. Two days of sleepless nights and agonizing over the battle for Regulus IV.
 
Ionia's morning light filtered into the neo-Gothic chamber. It was bright and cheery in contrast to the dour mood we felt.
 
Regulus IV will fall. Elise will die. Our prospects would grow just a bit more dire.
 
I rubbed circles against my temples. Elise was slowly supplanting Sullivan Cameron-Jones and his control over the province, not entirely out of malice, but certainly from paranoia. There was always something that required double-checking, like the province's income accounts, the loyalty of the Hussars, the inspection of ships and everything inside of it.
 
The Regulans, bless their souls, bore with it. The complete violation of their rights was something they just took with a stiff upper lip. We were lucky to have them. Now we might lose them.
 
Of course, nothing is free, everything Elise demanded required administration and bureaucracy. Trusted people, especially people Elise trusted, that could handle the duties of government were ever in short supply. As Leaguers, we were used to working efficiently lean, but giving those people overstretched us. Now we will lose them permanently. With them, we will lose capacity to answer the important questions of leadership.
 
Important questions like: what resources do we have available, what resources have we committed, where have we committed them, when will they be available again, what agents or organizations are available, what is their quantity, what is their quality, who is most talented at what, and so many more.
 
The questions of administration were the ammunition of leaders.
 
Information was ammunition, and its producers were bureaucrats staring at computers.
 
If losing 1% was terrible, what was losing 2.34%?
 
I sighed. The League is fractured, and unfortunately, so are we. The Federalist cause is slowly creaking under the pressure of the Provincialists. We needed breathing room, to allow us to reorganize, reorient, and reapply ourselves efficiently in this new reality.
 
A reality where we will likely lose the war.
 
Folding my hands on the table, I looked back at my advisors, my tired eyes were filled with a terrible, desperate resolve.
 
"At 1000 hours, activate Project Prometheus."
 
Grimly, Charles nodded and left.
 
Herod looked away, out through the window. But, Jefferies eyes met mine. "Can nothing else be done?" he pleaded.
 
I shook my head. No.
 
Jefferies eyes dipped downward. Abject defeat written across his face. "We have all made a difficult choice this day." he whispered.
 
I'm sorry, old friend.
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===Pain when dreams turn to Ash===
'Needs must', as mother used to say.
 
As her dutiful son, I have learned at her lap all that was important.
 
As the League's dutiful patriot, I have spread my wings and learned more than what was important. I learned what was valuable.
 
When my cousin and I met so many years ago, he too taught me an important lesson. He taught me the importance and value of morals. I learned to be principled.
 
Every day, when I look outside a quiet Parliament's ferro-glass windows into the roiling gray sky, I wonder, 'is our cause not just?' I walk into the cemeteries, at the new homes of thousands of souls felled in petty hidden wars between rival houses and corporations, and I wonder 'is our cause not just?' I look at myself in the mirror, and trace the new scars of flesh and metal, and I ask myself 'is our cause not just?'
 
Sometimes I look at the faces of beleaguered bureaucrats, organizing the efficient administration of our governmental duties. I hear them complain endlessly of the scathing tirades the megacorporations have at no longer being able to wield mercenaries and the market as cudgels against their competitors, large and small. I see them write long reports of how fair administration has improved the lot of the masses by simply removing favoritism previously inherent in our system.
 
They answer to me that our cause is just.
 
But when I look into the empty eyes of SAFE agent, a man who has just killed his neighbor of ten years…
 
The silence is their answer.
 
My first lover was an immigrant from the Draconis Combine. She had an artist's soul and a fierce love of academia. On our first anniversary, Boris took us on a tour of old Japan. In the thoroughfares of Kyoto, we held hands and reaffirmed our love again.
 
In that peculiar place, she took me to an artisan's shop. Ancient pottery and practices of an entirely different Japan, revived and kept alive by the sheer determination of a handful of men and women.
 
There she showed me a beautiful vase, lovingly and intricately inlaid within its walls were swirling waves in the main body. Nearer the top were clouds, the sun, and the moon. Sporadically, cracks of gold flashed through the overglaze. I inquired, and my girlfriend replied, "Kintsugi".
 
Kintsugi, to take broken pottery and repair it with fine lacquer made with gold, silver, or platinum. To take the jagged, broken pieces, including the painful proof of breaking, and creating something new.
 
The League is fractured. We have been for some time.
 
The lack of a strong central power allows corporations and powerful individuals to run fiefdoms, without any of the responsibilities that entails. Irian Tech owns all of Irian, functionally including anyone birthed there. The people are serfs in all but name, just a step up from property.
 
The weakness of Parliament has inflamed the long bickering provinces petty feuds and grudges, a hundred lives lost a day to assassins alone. There were even Finishing Schools for it.
 
And those who wish for better, for more in life for their fellow men and women, must deal with the boot of authority endlessly stomping on their face by uncaring totalitarian rulers. For that is the remit of their betters, not the freemen and proles.
 
We are held together by the weight of inertia and pressure from the Lyrans and the Capellans. But, it will not be long before those forces give just enough for everything to fall apart.
 
Mother, Elise, me, and all Federalists tried to fix that, united by the vision of an Enlightened Despot. A strong central government to at last push the needed reforms. Land reform, labor reform, market reform, regulation reform, bureaucratic reform, military reform, every form of reform that can be named was on the table.
 
So far, the only reform we managed to push through were military reforms, allowing the non-BattleMech arms to reach senior positions in the military. That successfully reversed an informal entrenchment of the MechWarrior's supremacy over all others.
 
But on everything else, we failed. First Parliament was suspended, then the war has consumed all else. All resources, all bureaucracy, all funding, all talent, all sense, and all reason was now dedicated to the war effort at Elise's command.
 
It was a bitter thing to see mother's dreams unfold into ash.
Boris was right, absolute power corrupts absolutely.
 
Mother.
 
I'm sorry.
 
Your son could not protect you, as you have protected me.
 
But I will avenge you.
 
You deserve that much, and in time someone will continue the cause and repair the League. To make remake us anew, whole once again.
 
Eventually, we all earn what we deserve.
 
As will Elise.
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===Shadow of Betrayal===
Regulus IV, Principality of Regulus
Free Worlds League
12 November 2732
0830 Hours
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Elise Marik
"Into the Merriot, now!" I screamed.
 
We ran at flank speed down the streets and into the boulevards. Whenever the opportunity presented itself, we smashed our way through thin walls and traveled within the remains of the city's ruins. Anything to keep the missiles hunting us away.
 
The husk of the Merriot Arcology loomed before us. The block sized exit we left was now our promised salvation.
 
The thunder screech of missiles alerted us to their approach. The Icarus pilots immediately fired their jump jets, hopping ahead of us. Two missiles plunged into Jaquita's back, obliterating her Icarus II.
 
I jumped over her remains and kept speed. I didn't stop until light became shadow, and the darkness embraced me.
 
Finally. Finally, we were safely inside the fallen arcology.
 
"Sound off. Who's still alive?"
 
"Terra, here."
 
"Barty, reporting"
 
"Heikki, reporting."
 
"Zhuli, standing by."
 
Including me, that was five. Over two-thirds of my command company dead. Considering we were being hunted by the majority of roughly thirty-one air regiments, I would count it as a small victory.
 
"We're regrouping at Capitol Hill; the air defenses there are mostly intact. Follow the Merriot's spine, enter the Saskatchewan Tunnels, head West, finally exit into the Hamurabi Arcology."
 
"Yes, ma'am!" Their shouts were different from yesterday. Yesterday, it was filled with determination. Today, it was filled with desperation.
 
The rest of the regiments had scattered to the wind. The Amazons as a fighting brigade were dead. The same could be said about the rest of the brigades inside Regulus City.
I wiped beading sweat off my brow before I eased my Stalker into the rear. I was confident now I was the primary objective.
 
My heart had yet to calm. It thundered worse than the storms over Mondaria.
 
I lased my 3rd Lance lead, "Heikki, your thoughts?" Heikki was a trained light mech pilot, and a trained foot scout. It was a rare combination, and was invaluable on the Capellan border against bandits and 'bandits'.
 
"Ma'am?"
 
"How have we been found. I find it suspicious Boris prepared an ambush for us, in spite of our movements being hidden from the sky. He knew. He knew." As I said before, the bombings were more effective than they should be.
 
I saw understanding alight in his Heikki's eyes, before he looked away and scratched his head. Giving a sigh, he looked back at me. "I don't know. The bombs obviously aren't standard. They must be something new. As to how they're so capable of finding targets for those bombs, I haven't a clue."
 
We stomped through the daycare again. Visions of the outside killing more of the little hope that I didn't know I still held. Beneath the sun and clouds, the lapping waves of fighters stretched as far the eye could see. Soon everything would be beneath the shadow of their wings.
 
A beam of light cut the middle of the arcology and spread diagonally South. It was about as big as a Locust laid on its back. Heikki and I were careful to evade the morning light that shone into the darkness. It slowed us down some, though my companions cared more for speed than caution.
 
Zhuli sped through, then Bartholomew, and finally Terra.
 
Suddenly, Terra was ripped in half by two explosions.
 
Rather than stop, I kicked the pedals and rushed forward. "Flank speed!" I screamed. "Stay out of the light!"
 
Zhuli and Bartholomew ripped their mechs off course to avoid the rest of the beams of light.
 
Thirty minutes later, we arrived at the base of the arcology. Apart from losing Terra, there were no further attacks. However, that didn't mean they weren't still waiting above. "Heikki, take point."
 
"Yes, ma'am," he answered promptly.
 
Heikki flared his jump jets a touch before sprinting out to the Saskatchewan tunnel network. At the final hundred meters of his journey, he jumped the rest of the way through.
 
Nothing happened.
"I'm next. Bartholomew, follow after, then Zhuli." I was the slowest of the group, everyone else were in Icarus IIs, or an Orion in Bartholomew's case. That meant the company could only go as fast as me. The Stalker wasn't famous for its speed, after all. It was famous for being difficult to put down.
 
I crossed the open at the full 56 km/h the engine could put out, my heart nearly exploding out of my chest as I did so.
 
Nothing happened.
 
I breathed a sigh of relief when I entered the tunnel's entrance. Crouched in the shadow, Heikki waited patiently, guns pointed towards the sky.
 
It was Bartholomew's turn, and he wasted no time sprinting to us. I eased back, further into the tunnels, to give him some space. Just like my own, his trip across the open was uneventful.
 
Zhuli exploded from her position using her jump jets. One fearful bound took her more than halfway across. At the apex of her second jump, she was struck down.
 
An explosion wracked the air where she was, and ruined metal fell from the sky.
 
We all took a collective step back, before more explosions followed. Barty's Orion was torn asunder, while Heikki fled further inside the tunnels with me. I let him take the lead as we ran away. Defeated, again.
 
There were a hundred entrances and exits to the fallen Merriot Arcology. Three of them led towards the various entrances of the Saskatchewan Tunnel complex. It should have been difficult, at best, to track us. Somehow, the rebels chose this exact entrance. It was as if—
 
"They knew," Heikki finished my thoughts. "It was just like you said, ma'am. They must have something feeding them information. Like remote sensors. They did have special forces dropped off."
 
"Something, yes…"
 
I flicked my wrist and burned his back with my large lasers.
 
His panicked scream told me my acting was successful.
 
"Or someone."
 
The ruined mech fell forwards. Without a gyro or engines, the machine was a fancy metal coffin.
 
His coffin.
 
I looked down at him, and lifted my foot above his cockpit. "Before I kill you, I want to know, what made you turn?"
 
He coughed before answering, "The fuck!"
 
Unfortunate. He was unwilling to answer. Just like most traitors I found, they were willing to die keeping up their acts. It was only ever post-mortem that their lies were revealed.
 
A stomp ended our conversation. Pity. I would have loved to talk to him further in-depth. Especially after SAFE thoroughly interrogated him.
 
Now I was alone.
 
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the headrest, letting my mind wander to better times. Thinking of young Berty trying to emulate his late father, with his chubby cheeks and furrowed brows in a serious face, it brought a creeping smile to my face.
 
I eased my mech back to a light jog, and realized today was my destined death. That was truth, I could feel it in the core of my soul. Somehow, during the fighting, I've come to terms with it.
 
At least, if I were to die today, I shall have died taking as many of these louts with me as possible. As long as Berty still lives, the cause still lives and he would win the war. I know so, I raised him after all.
 
Much as I hate the Provincialist rebels, I cannot help but pity them. What do they fight for in the end? To wrest more power from the federation so that they might aggrandize themselves? Weaken their rivals? Because they're angry? It couldn't have been to the benefit of their people, they've all but been forgotten beneath the dream of the Star League.
 
It is such a grand and intoxicating innocence, to believe that more power would solve all their problems. Especially, if it is at the expense of each other.
 
Only unity would see us through hardship.
 
As I exited the Saskatchewan Tunnels, the light of day greeted my once again. This time, I didn't return its greeting with fear or trepidation, but resolve.
 
Only for that, too, to shatter.
 
The furious indigo beeping was an emergency message from Central. It was a short and awful thing. Project Prometheus has been activated.
 
No one else could have given that command. Not Charles. Not Herod. Absolutely not Jefferies. No one else. Except Berty.
 
Screams for aide exploded across the radio's open air. On this world. On a hundred other traitorous worlds.
 
With fearful eyes, I turned east, awaiting to witness the birth of a new sun.
 
A second sun did not rise.
 
But a shadow did fall. Above, circled what seemed to be a hundred vultures. The hammer of the rebels withheld their fire. Yet, I felt the hammer blows of their judgement.
 
Bertram has betrayed me.
 
I was truly alone.
 
A shaking hand dipped into my emergency kit.
 
At last, I shall know no more betrayal.
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===Coded Message===
Atreus, Commonwealth of Marik,
Free Worlds League
13 November 2732
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Unknown
7+j3h11sSE9A76mng3rFMzPlTyeRV0MMcntxAE6UlFl4veY1EwEhurEffzuBrQBJGIhPR2V9RgWjF4d4h58XQjf5jIiJJiOaIYYq46AsOmuBBohfOXVFwMY308pEvKdDn4aWxIrfvxxX3V1cC+TT3S3JoadfEy407qNvg7mvuc=​
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*; Note from the Author : Dun dun DUUUN!The great betrayal! As promised way back in the first chapter, melodramatic soap opera-esque things were going to happen. And what's a soap opera without a melodramatic betrayal by a loved one?
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