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[Undisclosed LocationSix Days Ago]

Undisclosed Location
Six Days Ago

The room was lit by the most hellish of lights, crimson illuminating the consoles and chairs where various technicians were hard at work at their stations. But other than the hum of machinery and technology forming an almost-soothing background noise of beeps and whines, it was as silent as death in the room. None of the technicians spoke a word, and neither did the woman who stood amidst it all.

The woman was as beautiful as she was silent, scarlet hair pulled back in a severe bun and clad in a smart, dark pantsuit devoid of any rank or other identifying markers. Not that she needed such, of course; there wasn't a man or woman in this room who didn't know who she was. Contessa Mercer, the head of the Magistracy Intelligence Ministry, and one of the most dangerous women in Canopian space, if not the entire Periphery. And her expression was neutral, almost passive, as her eyes observed what was before her.

Illuminated by light-blue glowlights was a massive tank, within which was suspended a single figure. The figure was naked and very obviously female, with long black hair that undulated around her as she rested in peaceful, dreaming repose. Other than a few miniscule movements, the woman was motionless, lost in unconsciousness.

Mercer's own inscrutable thoughts were interrupted as bright, white light spilled into the room, and she turned to see that a figure stood in the now-open doorway to the hidden chamber. A functionary, she noted, no doubt with news that required her personal attention. She beckoned the man forward, and as he approached, he handed her a datapad without fanfare and stood at military-precision attention.

After reading the contents of the datapad for a few moment, Mercer looked up without really seeing the man before her. "It is time, then." Turning to one of the workstations, she spoke again. "Wake her up."

Emma nodded at Angela's words, her expression giving away nothing but her mind deep in thought as she pondered the situation before her. "You're right, Ambassador Summers, and despite my own misgivings about giving the Mariks access to the MAF's deployments, I am forced to acknowledge the fact that the FWLM is far superior to my own nation's military and would enjoy precious little more advantage with such knowledge in hand than they'd have without it. More to the point, I wish to get to the bottom of this mess so that we can get back to what passes for normalcy in this corner of space."

With that, her grey gaze focused on Ambassador McIntyre sharply. "However, as the saying goes, you have to give a little to get a little. If I am going to grant you access to such sensitive information, I will ask for two things in return. First, I would ask that you grant my people access to the same information for all FWLM units posted along the border with my Magistracy. And second, and perhaps most importantly, I would like to reaffirm our peaceful relations with a more formal treaty in place."

Emma stood from her throne, and extended her exquisitely-manicured hand to McIntyre. "Do we have a deal, Ambassador?"

Emma inclined her head first to McIntyre, her expression carefully kept neutral and poised. "As you so eloquently stated just now, it would be madness for me to authorize any sort of offensive action against the Free Worlds League, especially given the size of the FWLM forces I know you have posted in the interstellar vicinity. Understandable, given the events in Andurien, but it is precisely because of Andurien that I have gone out of my way to rectify the damage that my mother helped to cause your realm. And for whatever it is worth to you, Lady McIntyre, I give you my word of honor that I would never do something so antagonistic or self-destructive."

Then, Emma turned to Ambassador Summers, and nodded to the other woman. "And your words show your inherent wisdom, Ambassador, and have given me an idea as to how to help defuse this situation in a way that, it is my sincerest hope, will satisfy all parties involved. I propose that you serve as a neutral mediator, and I will provide you with evidence that will demonstrate that not a single one of the units that were allegedly involved in this ill-conceived 'invasion' were and are nowhere near the worlds which have been attacked by these perfidious invaders."

Finally, she turned back to McIntyre, her grey eyes meeting the other woman's with characteristic Centrella intensity. "Would this be acceptable to you as a first step, Lady McIntyre?"

[Throne Room, Palace of the MagestrixCrimson, Canopus IVNow]

Throne Room, Palace of the Magestrix
Crimson, Canopus IV
Now

In the early hours of the evening, Jiltanith McIntyre was shown into the Canopian throne room by a pair of well-armed royal guards. A few moments later, from another door, Angela Summers was also admitted to the opulent room, again with blue-garbed guards ushering her in with all due diligence to her personal security.  The Marik and Davion ambassadors were led to the end of the turquoise-tiled path that ran from the massive double doors of the entrance to the Canopian throne itself, upon which Magestrix Emma Centrella sat with an expression kept carefully neutral and even.

The two pairs of guards took up station to either side of Emma, and the Magestrix looked down at her guests with steel-grey eyes that gave away nothing. "Ambassador Summers, Ambassador McIntyre. I know why both of you have petitioned me for an audience, so I have taken it upon myself to, as they say, kill two birds with one stone and grant you both a personal audience. So let's talk."

[INN Breaking NewsMeeting Room, Magestrix's PalaceCanopus IV, Magistracy of Canopus]

INN Breaking News
Meeting Room, Magestrix's Palace
Canopus IV, Magistracy of Canopus

The camera view springs to life, centered on none other than Magestrix Emma Centrella herself, clad in a turquoise-and-black gown. She is standing before a simple podium of ebony wood emblazoned with the symbol of the Magistracy of Canopus, and similar symbols are etched into the teal banners hanging behind the statuesque woman. She is flanked by a pair of guards, armed and armored and very, very still.

"Good evening, citizens of the Magistracy, and to the greater interstellar neighborhood. I am Emma Centrella, Magestrix of Canopus, and I would like to share a few words of importance with all of you tonight.

I know that many among you beheld the actions of my mother and predecessor in the affair with the Duchy of Andurien and the Capellan Confederation with great consternation, but I am and have always been committed to the causes of peace and justice for the Periphery. Gone are the days when we would so foolishly involve ourselves in the affairs of the Successor States, and we have no wish to repeat the mistakes of the past. We simply wish to be left to our own devices, to pursue our own dreams and aspirations. In the recent past, I even went so far as to offer restitution to the Free Worlds League for the role that the Magistracy played in the secession of Andurien, and it is my hope that the Captain-General feels, as I do, that the matter is closed.

But do not mistake this desire for peace to mean that we will not fight with everything we have, and more, to protect that peace. To that end, I have recently called together leaders from the various Periphery realms, from the Taurian Concordat to the Marian Hegemony, and even the distant Outworlds Alliance, and together we have dedicated ourselves to the peaceful exchange of ideas, trade, and other items of mutual benefit. The Periphery Pact, as we have christened this endeavor, is to be a symbol of our newly-minted dedication to inter-realm cooperation. We have even begun forming an irregular force of volunteers, the Periphery Marshals, to assist in law enforcement and mutual defense between our realms. It is my fondest wish that the Marshals will also help to bridge the gulfs between the realms of the Periphery, and help us all to find and maintain common ground.

This dedication to our own defense, however, does NOT include what has just taken place on the Marik worlds of Glevkha, Vakarel, Eleusis, Payvand, Teliman's Mistake, or Bayindir. My sources indicate that these Free Worlds are currently suffering an invasion by forces claiming to be part of the Magistracy Armed Forces. I am here to tell the Captain-General, here and now, that these forces do NOT originate from Canopus, and do not represent my realm in any conceivable way, shape or form. The Magistracy Intelligence Ministry stands ready to provide evidence to SAFE to prove the veracity of my words, and I implore the Captain-General to allow cooler heads to prevail. Let us work together to discover the identity of these attackers, before it is too late.

But on that note, I will also add an additional plea to Captain-General Marik: cease your invasion of the Circinus Federation. Your actions there have gone far beyond merely punishing them for their part in the recent troubles engulfing your realm, and have been laid bare as the naked land-grab of which I become more certain every day was your intent all along. Indeed, the forces brought to bear on Circinus alone were nothing less than overwhelming in numbers, and coupled with your recent, albeit somewhat inscrutable and cryptic, address to the Periphery, it seems that you feel you have an ax to grind against us.

Let us have peace, Captain-General Marik, before you subject your citizens and ours to yet another destructive and ultimately pointless war.

With that, the camera faded to black.

Emma smiled as the Niopsian cast his vote, and swept the room with her steel-grey eyes, a hallmark of the Centrella bloodlines. Though she masked it well, as only a lifetime of diplomatic training would allow one to do, Emma felt a wave of powerful emotion sweep through her. It was done. The Periphery realms would stand side-by-side in a new era of cooperation, and she was honored and humbled to have helped make that happen.

"And with that, the Periphery Pact is born. Allow me this brief moment to thank all of you for your contributions toward a better future for all of our peoples, a future of freedom and security against a harsh and often unforgiving universe. There are still details to be worked out, of course, but with the signing of this treaty...as the saying goes, the hard part is over. Now it is up to all of us to ensure that this dream comes to fruition."

Pausing for a moment, Emma continued. "I suggest that we adjourn for a few days to let the dust settle, and it would be my honor if you all would join me in a celebration of this momentous occasion. The Magistracy will be holding a reception here in the Palace in three days' time. I hope that you will all be able to join me in a toast to our new Periphery Pact!"

Emma Centrella nods as Janice Calderon casts her vote, and with that, the younger woman stood to her feet. A glance was spared to the Canopian entourage that accompanied her, and her steel-grey eyes fixed for a moment on the most important (to her, anyway) of them all: Nicholas Ramilie, commander of one of her foremost mercenary regiments and, unknown to most in the room, her husband and father to her daughters Danai and Naomi. The ruggedly-handsome man nodded to her once, and Emma returned his nod almost imperceptibly as she returned her attention to the gathered Periphery leaders.

"The Magistracy of Canopus votes yes to the treaty accords. Furthermore, I'd like to suggest a name for this alliance, unless any among you have ideas in that regard. The Periphery Pact. Simple and effective, as it should be."

Emma didn't interrupt Sam as he gave the speech that would determine the fate of his plan. She simply listened attentively as he outlined his plans and responded to her points, and gave the occasional nod of understanding or acknowledgment. The man was clearly prepared for this. After a few minutes, he concluded his speech, and the Magestrix smiled widely.

"I find myself quite impressed by your gift for the spoken word, Lord Calderon, and I find myself in agreement with most of your points. I simply worry that in forming a military force of such broad authority, we might offend the sensibilities of those who chose the Periphery to escape such things. And that's not even taking into account the long and sordid history the Periphery has with a similar endeavor, the Star League Defense Force. So we must all take care to enter into this arrangement with that in mind."

Sweeping the room with her steel-grey eyes, the Magestrix rose. "I think perhaps it is time for us to vote on this treaty."

Emma kept her expression carefully neutral as Sam Calderon identified himself before the delegates. Thought dead even to her, she covered her surprise at his revealing himself now well, the result of a lifetime of military discipline and political training. She did not interrupt Janice as she spoke, nor Marius as he addressed the Taurian scion directly. Patience was a virtue, after all.

"Lord Calderon, allow me to welcome you formally to this conclave. And allow me to second Imperator O'Reilly's sentiments that we are most pleased to see you hale and hearty. Your presence here and now is surely a boon to us all."

With that, the Magestrix switched gears slightly. "I would gladly throw my support behind your appointment as Director of the Colonial Marshals, with one caveat: that you forswear any claim to your noble titles and privileges within the Taurian Concordat for the duration of your appointment. I hope you understand the potential dangers of having such a conflict of interest for the holder of such an unprecedented office."

After giving that a moment to sink in, and for herself to regard Sam with carefully-hidden scrutiny, Emma spoke again. "I have also consulted with my people regarding the Canopian contribution to the Marshals, and I have reached an accord with some of the mercenary commands. Harcourt's Destructors, Harcourt's Regulars, and Forbes' Cavaliers stand ready to join the ranks of the Marshals on our behalf. They will be accompanied by the Canopian Highlanders, who are honored to stand at the sides of our Periphery brethren in this undertaking."

(In game terms, 16.5 FP of Canopian troops and equipment.)

"I do have one concern, Lord Calderon...or, if all gathered here are agreeable to your appointment, Force Marshal Calderon?" Emma smiled at that before she continued. "Regarding the seniority of the Marshals. I cannot speak for my esteemed colleagues of the Concordat or the Hegemony, of course, but I am concerned at the Marshals having seniority over local forces. Would this be restricted to treaty provisions? Because there are elements of the MAF that may take exception to an untested military force stepping on their toes, so to speak, and I have no wish to upset my military commanders, not to mention my own citizenry, without some assurances in place that the Marshals won't be subverting their own authority."

[Palace of the MagestrixCrimson, Canopus IV31 January, 3040]

Palace of the Magestrix
Crimson, Canopus IV
31 January, 3040

Magestrix Emma Centrella looked around the conference table at each of the attendees of the summit, and she did not bother repressing a contented smile as she beheld each Periphery leader as they spoke amongst themselves. Never in her life had she visualized a time when such a disparate group of individuals would sit down in the same room and work together. Even her mother, who despite her own faults as a leader was unquestionably devoted to the Magistracy and to the Periphery as a whole, could never have dreamed of this day. While she was proud of her contribution to such an august gathering, at this particular moment, Emma felt humbled.

"Honored leaders and representatives, we have already accomplished so much over the past few weeks. I think that perhaps it is time to take an accounting of what we have reached a consensus on thus far, and to discuss any bones of contention collectively. I know many of you must be anxious to return to your realms and to your people, and I do not wish any of you to return unsatisfied."

Emma stood from her seat, and activated the holoprojector set into the middle of the expansive conference table. As she did so, a luminescent and highly-detailed representation of the Periphery swirled to life before their eyes. The Inner Sphere, though it loomed large in the middle of the hologram, was kept blurry and indistinct...a deliberate choice by the Magestrix.

"I believe the first matter that should be discussed is the creation of the Marshals, as proposed by the Calderons." Emma's steely-grey eyes moved to the Taurian delegation, where Janice Calderon and her party sat. "What exactly do you propose?"

Ashanti did not shift in her stance, which for all her efforts to look relaxed was rigid and unyielding. Her words came even and almost strident in tone, though she softened them a bit when she twisted her lips into a smile...or a sneer, perhaps.

"Neg, you would not have heard of my Clan, Imperator," she replied as she regarded the toga-clad man with arched eyebrow and penetrating gaze. "As surely as the only Hegemony I know was destroyed long ago, at the hands of the traitor Amaris and the selfish and greedy Successor Lords." Her smile widened, flashing brilliant, perfect teeth at Marius. "Something I believe each of you in this room know something about, quiaff?"

At that, the woman returned her gaze to the Magestrix, her expression softening as did her words. "My people departed the Inner Sphere when the great Star League fell, rather than watch the Successor Lords destroy everything in their venal lust for power. But we have always known that we were destined to return when the time was right. And so we have. We are the Children of Kerensky. The legacy of the Royal Black Watch."

Ashanti regarded each of the gathered Periphery leaders in turn, even sparing a lingering glance on Niops' Vice President Maleddin. "We no longer wish to live in exile among the stars, but to return to the worlds of our ancestors. We want to return home."

At that, the woman smiled with warmth, though it did not quite reach her cool blue eyes. She brushed a loose lock of dark red hair, bound back into a pair of almost girlish ponytails, and stepped forward at the unspoken summons of the Magestrix.

She had changed from her shipboard jumpsuit to something a bit more...provocative, though who would think so on Canopus? Clad in black and crimson leathers, her attire consisted of a collared, sleeveless vest over a low-cut tank top, skintight leggings tucked into thick-heeled boots that stopped just below her knees, and studded bracers that encased her arms from wrist to elbow. If anything, the woman looked like a pirate, though the bearing with which she carried herself suggested a disciplined, almost military precision.

"Magestrix Centrella, I wish to thank you for allowing me to speak at this momentous conclave, and I also wish to apologize for the mystery surrounding my arrival in your capital. But after you hear what I have to say, I think that you will agree that secrecy at this time is paramount."

This is it, she thought to herself. The moment that my people have dreamed of since the day of our foundation.

"I am Ashanti Zadok, and I bring you greetings from Clan Blood Spirit. We are the true heirs of the Star League, and we have come home."

[DropShip Thicker Than WaterCrimson, Canopus IV11 January, 3040]

DropShip Thicker Than Water
Crimson, Canopus IV
11 January, 3040

The aerodyne form of the Broadsword-class DropShip hurtled through the skies of Canopus, leaving a contrail in its wake as it breached the atmosphere and proceeded with purpose towards the capital city of the Magistracy. The vessel penetrated the light cloud cover over Crimson, and the only passenger of note aboard the vessel looked out of her viewport upon the surface with an unreadable expression.

Even with the scars of heavy industry on the surface of this world, it is still so...breathtaking. She sighed once, quietly, and allowed herself the smallest of smiles. Perhaps the Council's decision was wiser than I thought. But are we ready to take this step? Once tread, there is no going back.

With that thought, the woman shook her head to clear her thoughts. The time for doubts had passed. She had committed to this path for good or ill, and her people were now counting on her to do her duty to the utmost of her ability. Her honor demanded that she not fail them, so she would not.

"Pilot," she spoke aloud after she depressed the com-button built into the arm of her chair. "Request clearance for landing, and also announce that the Magestrix should prepare to receive...an uninvited guest."

[JumpShip Isolation's WeightLocal Space, Canopus IV10 January, 3040]

JumpShip Isolation's Weight
Local Space, Canopus IV
10 January, 3040

From the handheld communicator that the woman carried when she strode onto the grav-deck of the JumpShip Isolation's Weight came the sounds of a broadcast, one which the woman listened to with deliberation as her boot-falls reverberated on the deck plating. She was a petite woman of athletic build and graceful movements, clad in a form-fitting red jumpsuit with black gloves, boots, and a belt bearing a sidearm. And she was alone.

"This is Julien Trimnoux from Luxen in the Magistracy of Canopus.  I am standing in front of the DC Tower Office and Hotel complex where, during the last 10 days, various preparations for an important meeting have begun. Our sources tell us that multiple representatives from various other nations, including the Magestrix are scheduled to arrive within the next three months.  Currently we do not know what will be happening here on Luxen, but we will keep you informed on any progress.  This is Julien Trimnoux reporting from Luxen."

Turning off the device she held after the recording had finished playback, the auburn-haired woman looked out the viewport of the JumpShip's grav-deck at the world of Canopus IV below. The vessel had arrived clandestinely fifteen minutes previously from an L5 point near the Canopian moon of Inanna, in the shadow of which it now hid itself. And in the reflection of the window at which she stood, she appeared to smile just slightly, and she touched a hand to the glass as she spoke so softly that her voice did not carry beyond herself.

"So this is where it begins."

With that, the woman turned from the commanding view of Canopus and to the man who had stepped into the hatchway leading into the grav-deck where she stood. The newcomer placed his right hand to the left side of his chest in a sharp salute, his fingertips pressed to his thumb, and he assumed a crisp military stance.  The woman nodded sharply in response, placing her hands on her hips as she did so.

"Prepare the DropShip for launch. We do not wish to be late."