Rim Worlds Republic - IC Roleplaying Thread

[LittleH13]

This is an RP thread for the RWR.

[DXM]

Srinagar, New India
Rim Worlds Republic
27 August 3069

Daphne pushed a lock of blonde hair back behind her ear from whence it came, whipped by the wind that was blowing through Brahma Square.  She'd only had a couple of weeks to try to bounce back from her long confinement, so it had taken a lot of make-up to cover her wan complexion and collection of still-healing bruises.  Even being back in normal clothing was taking some getting used to after so long in starched wool jumpsuits -- that is, when the guards even gave her clothing to wear.

The scars from her torture were mercifully covered, though Adam's shock and outrage when he saw them had been something almost unholy to see. . . Not that his were any better to look at and so much harder to hide.

Adam Steiner, also known as Kommandant Leonidas, stood proudly at her side as the New India press corps snapped as many still pics as they could from as many angles as possible; there were three or four media helicopters circling in the sky, too, which was playing merry hell with the planet's air/space control since none of them had filed flight plans to make the short-notice press conference.

Like Thomas Marik, Adam Steiner now carried a terrible array of burn-marks and scar tissue, the bubbled and distorted corruption clearly visible rising up his neck, oblitering his left ear, and encroaching on his left cheek.  The tightness of it had pulled up and out on the left corner of his mouth, giving him a perpetually lop-sided grin that was quite macabre.  But for all of that, it was obviously him, and his appearance on stage, at her side, was going to leave an impression with lots of Lyran citizens.  What might shock them, however, was the fact that he wasn't wearing his old uniform of Steiner blue.  He was wearing the new (some might say old) dress uniform of the Rim Worlds Republic: freshly tailored, devoid of any campaign ribbons, carrying only the shark insignia of the Republic, the box-formation of four stars denoting him as a Colonel-General, and the nameplate that read STEINER.

He smiled down at her and gave her hand a squeeze.  She nodded and then stepped up to the podium.  She did her dead-level best to remember the speech she'd written, but with so little time to memorize it, she was glad they'd set up a teleprompter, too.

"Citizens of humanity: good morning.  As most of you are no doubt aware, my name is Daphne Rowe and I hold the title of President of the Rim Worlds Republic.  It is a name with a long history, one that is rife with pride as well as evil.  The Republic was founded by my family centuries ago at the whim of a man who, depending on your source, was either a corsair or pirate -- or worse.  Despite this inauspicious beginning, the Republic grew into a wealthy and prosperous nation that was the realization of a dream.

"That dream turned dark, however, at the rise of the Amaris family, and ultimately ended in a nightmare of bloodshed, terror, and war.

"The people of the Rim Worlds did not support Stefan Amaris.  We rose up against him.  When General Aleksandr Kerensky came to the Republic, he found a civilian population that was quiescent and supportive, that gave up supplies and equipment, and gladly volunteered its manpower to his foreign legion regiments that would go on to play such a pivotal role in the campaign for the Terran Hegemony.

"Yet, it is not for our sacrifice that this government is remembered.  The actions of the Amaris family and its toadies and sycophants are the lasting legacy of the Republic.  The evil that was Stefan Amaris is the first thought that springs to mind at the merest mention of the Rim Worlds Republic.

"I am not an Amaris.  This is not his Rim Worlds Republic.  We simply want to take back control of own destiny, to stand proudly on our own two feet beneath the proud banner of the Apollonian Shark.  But for some reason, many of the extent factions of this Human Sphere refuse to let us live in peace.  The Clans have come to destroy us for what the Usurper did to the Star League.  The Star League Defense Force comes for no good reason anyone can surmise -- are they not a defense force, as their name implies? -- while the Lyran Commonwealth, which eagerly swallowed as much of the original Republic as it could after General Kerensky left, refuses to allow us the right to govern ourselves.

"And so I say this to all the leaders and all the peoples of the humanity.  We are the Rim Worlds Republic.  We are here to stay.  Even if it takes us a thousand years, we shall assert ourselves and our right to lead our own lives.  Come for us, and we will fight you until the last round of ammunition is spent, the last inch of ground is lost, the last breath is gasped, and the last drop of blood is spilled.

"It is my greatest hope that this is not a struggle that we will have to keep fighting.  But if it is, I would also hope that it is not one that we have to fight alone.  The Periphery has always been home to the rugged men and women who enjoy their own peace and are willing to band together to defend each other regardless of the circumstances.  Any who wish to witness first-hand the rise of a phoenix, to breathe the free air, to throw off the shackles of a tyrannous government, or to take up arms in the defense of freedom are welcome here.  Join us!  Fight for us!  Be one of us, for we are here, and we are not afraid.

"Thank you."

One of the reporters all but leapt forward, trying to push past the cordon of police who was keeping a decent distance between the crowd and the dais.  "Madame President!  What about the bombing of Tharkad!?"

Daphne shook her head.  "The nuclear strike on Tharkad was a reprehensible act of terrorism, and the Rim Worlds Republic had nothing to do with it."

Adam stepped up to her side and leaned down a bit so he could speak into the mike and add his own two cents.  "As the commander-in-chief of the Provisional Republic Armed Forces, I can tell you that the weapon used did not come from our stocks and that no Republican troops, nor the Office of Special Intelligence, participated in the attack.  The use of atomics against civilian targets goes against the Republic's defense-only military stance, and if the OSI discovers that Rim citizens or persons claiming to be Rim citizens were involved in any way, we will find them and turn them over to Lyran courts to face justice."

The mass of reporters became a crush, all of them trying to force themselves to the forefront so their questions can heard.

"Miss Rowe!  Where have you been?"

Daphne tried to keep her face impassive, but knew it was an impossible task.  "Ever since the attack on Somerset, I have been a. . . guest of the Lyran Intelligence Corps at a super-max prison where other patriots of the Republic, Free Skye, and various and sundry other political prisoners were kept.  I was rescued during a raid by Rim troops.  Next question."

"General Steiner, several Lyran worlds that have risen in support of the Rim Worlds are now under attack by the Star League Defense Force and the Clans.  Surely we do not have the force to defend on both fronts, so does your --"  The man paused to check his notes.  "-- Provisional Republic Armed Forces have a plan to defeat these invasions?  Is diplomacy an option?"

"Diplomacy is always an option," Steiner responded.  "Diplomatic initiatives are underway as we speak to get our side of the story heard by the Star League, but it will likely be some time before we see any results one way or another.  And while not as large or well-trained as the militaries of the Successor States, the PRAF is still well-equipped and staffed with both idealistic young recruits and weathered combat veterans, most of them ex-LCAF officers.  As the President said, we will defend the Republic against all comers regardless of creed or origin.  I will not, however, divulge specific battle-plans since that information is classified."

"Speaking of the Star League, are you going to seek admittance?"

Rowe shook her head.  "At this time, no.  Membership in an international body that has the power to command our government goes against the doctrine of democratic self-governance that forms the core of the Rim Republic's values.  The same goes for the Coalition of Periphery States, though we are more than willing to open dialogue with both organizations to ensure that we can all live in peace."

"Madame President: do we have any friends on the international stage, or are we going this alone?"  The question quieted the crowd, and all the other reporters backed off a little.

Rowe smiled grimly.  "We do have some supporters amongst the Inner Sphere, Periphery, and even the Clans.  Right now, their support must by necessity be as surreptitious as possible since we are not recognized as a viable and independent nation by the rest of humanity at large.  Soon, I should hope, we will be able to stand tall alongside our friends and allies -- in peace."  The grim set of her features turned genuine.  "That's all we have the time for today.  Thank you all for listening."

The press corps started screaming more questions, but she let Adam lead her off the dais and out to a convoy of hover-limos.  Their shuttle was already undergoing preflight checks at the spaceport; as soon as that report got out into the international press, the LIC -- and maybe the LCAF, as if it didn't have enough on its plate --  was going to swarm New India looking for them.

They needed to put some distance between them and New India as quickly as possible.

[DXM]

Presidential Palace, New Apollo
Rim Worlds Republic, Somewhere in the Near Periphery

Daphne slumped against the wall as Herbert, the chamberlain, shut the door.  Running the gauntlet from the spaceport to their home was always a less-than-boring experience, but her and Adams' recent -- some might say miraculous -- returns from the dead had elevated their celebrity status amongst the Rim Worlders from "leaders" to "national heroes."  There was a huge crowd outside, cheering and waving and jostling over each other trying to get a glimpse of Daphne and Adam.  She felt bad staying aloof from the crowd and stuck around to press some flesh and sign some autographs.  Ten minutes had become thirty had become sixty, and she had felt herself growing hoarse from speaking with her adoring masses.

Adam, on the other hand, had waited in the car.  "Next time, you're coming with me," she said, glaring at him.

"Ohhh, no I'm not," he replied, peeling off his butternut-brown uniform jacket as he ascended the foyer stairwell to the second floor.  "You can have the cult of personality.  I'm just a simple old soldier."

Daphne released a rather un-ladylike snort as she followed him up.  "So I guess you won't be pressing your claim to the Tharkad throne?"

He stopped and looked back at her, the shock clearly displayed on his face.  "Of course not!  The moment I stepped on the planet, Loki would bag & tag me."  He sighed.  "And besides, ruling isn't apparently my forte."

"You're crazy, Adam.  You tricked the whole rest of the Inner Sphere into thinking you died on Somerset --"

"Not too hard, that."

"-- and then held the Republic together in the face of resurgent assaults while simultaneously finding and springing me from prison.  You're nothing if not a natural-born leader."

Adam gave a half-hearted harrumph and finished the trek up the steps and then strode to the master bedroom, his wife jogging a bit to catch up.

"Adam, wait," she said, pulling him to a stop shy of their quarters.  "I'm sorry all right?  I just. . . The Lyrans are going to try to pin this on us.  We've got SLDF troops invading from one direction and Clan troops from the other.  I just spent God only knows how many months being humiliated and tortured by the LIC, and the man I love is literally scarred for life.  Life's a little rough right now for me -- for both of us -- and I'm not used to that.  I'm still trying to figure out how to handle all of this."

He nodded, embracing her.  "I know, and I'm sorry for being gruff.  I'm on edge too, you know.  I don't like fighting a war I can't win."

"We can win."

He shook his head slowly.  He seemed almost resigned to defeat.  "No, dear, we can't.  Not with the resources available to us.  We need friends.  Allies.  If the CPS -- Hell, just the Marians -- would give us some troops, I'd be ecstatic.  If the Lyrans would lay off and let us be, that'd help too, but if we could get one of the Great Houses to back us up, we'd have a chance at survival.  A solid chance."

Daphne stood on her tiptoes and gave her husband a kiss.  "As always, my love, I'm two steps ahead of you."

[DXM]

"Daphne, You and your friends murdered ten billion people, more than two billion of those here on Arluna with your bio-weapon.  It is my belief that you, and your friends, were the force behind the nuclear fireballs on Tharkad.  Daphne, I hope you die slowly, and painfully, I hope your ovaries rot with gangrene, and that all your dreams are turned to dust and ashes.  Do not come here, do not send an emissary, if you do, I will send him home in pieces."

Adam turned off the trid set and looked at his wife, lying next next to him on their four-poster bed.  "Well.  That wasn't very nice, now was it?  Did you murder her children in a past life or something?"

"Not funny, Adam," she replied, her face an emotionless mask.  "I just want to know why I'm such a boogeyman.  Its as if --"  Sniff, sniff.  "-- as if I'm fated to be despised by the whole rest of the Inner Sphere for doing exactly what they're doing: standing up for myself and my people."  She tried saying more, but the floodgates opened and Daphne Rowe could barely speak for being wracked by sobs.

Adam wrapped her up in a great bear hug, holding her close while the rage of emotions poured out of her.  She kept trying to babble, but he could only make out about one word in three, she he just held her.  It was a poignant and private moment, and it pained Steiner to see his wife's legendary reserve collapse like this.  As soon as the sobs subsided, Adam took his wife's head in his eyes, leaned in close, and kissed her.

It took her a moment to respond, but after a minute, he broke the kiss and smiled at her.

"What was that for?" she asked.

"You need to know that while you mean be an international pariah, you're not a uiversal pariah.  There are millions of people in the Republic who rely on you for their every need.  Without you, there would be no Republic.  I don't know why Liz despised you so much, or why her spiritual successor wish you so much harm.  But there are many people who pray to God each and every night, thanking Him for bringing Daphne Rowe into their world."

She sniffled a little bit and gave him a brave smile.  "You're a good man, Adam Steiner."

He smiled back, and for the rest of the night, did his dead level best to help her forget about the world outside.

[DXM]

Presidential Palace, New Apollo
Rim Worlds Republic, Somewhere in the Near Periphery

Daphne muted the news feed.  "Charlemagne?  I didn't know you had a cousin named Charlemagne."

"I don't," Adam muttered darkly.  "He's a Clanner."

There was a moment of shocked silence.  "What?"

"There's a Steiner Bloodname amongst the Clans; we've known that for a while," Adam stated matter-of-factly.  "He's one of them.  I don't why Lyran citizens would want a Clansman as Archon, but the news from Alarion suggests that some think it'd be a good thing." He snorted.  "Personally, I think its a horrible idea, but I don't live on Alarion."

Daphne tapped a finger against her lips.  It was one of those deep-thinking tics, and Adam smiled as he watched; it was just one of those little things that he loved about her.  "The Commonwealth is about to fall apart, isn't it?  Between the our secession, the Union secession -- and now Tharkad being fought over by the leader of Free Skye and a Clan warrior -- the Lyran nation doesn't have long left."

Adam nodded.  "OSI reached the same conclusion."

"You don't sound too happy about it."

"Of course not.  For all the trouble they've been making for us, the Lyran Commonwealth is still the nation of my birth.  No one likes seeing their homeland rot.  But it happened.  I just hope that when the walls come down, they don't fall on us."

[DXM]

RRS Chariot of the Sun, Outbound New Apollo
Periphery Province, Rim Worlds Republic

Daphne Rowe sighed heavily as she read the after action report from Ender's Cluster.  Clan Spirit Cat had hit the world with overwhelming force -- a full naval star and two galaxies of ground troops.  The ground force involved was about three-quarters of the entire Provisional Rim Armed Forces, and was undoubtedly better trained and, being Clan, so much better equipped.

"We don't stand a chance," she muttered darkly.

"Not true," Adam replied, walking into the stateroom they shared.  The Chariot of the Sun was a converted Monarch-class luxury liner, providing quarters for the two of them as well as several other members of the Republic government, as well as a full military command center for Adam.  He'd had the Chariot built after Somerset, when he'd assumed the title Leonidas.  In retrospect, that particular nom de guerre seemed rather arrogant.  Especially since he'd left his proverbial three hundred behind on New Apollo to die without him.

"What do you mean?" she asked.  "The Spirit Cat presence alone is enough to crush us."

He handed her a sheaf of papers.  "We might lose New Apollo, or Athena Station, or Florida, or Cruz Alta -- but we now have some room to play with."

Daphne's eyes widened as she read the classified reports.  "Penobscot?  Cavanaugh?   Valloire --"  She blinked, surprise readily apparent on her face.  "Bolan?!?  A provincial capital announced for us?"

Adam smiled as he saw tears begin to gather in her eyes.  "Over thirty worlds have defected to the Republic.  The Lyran people are tired of being fought over by the Clans.  This Charlemagne chap has a broader base of support than I thought possible, but most of the Isle of Skye and about half of Donegal Province went over to Robert Kelswa."  He sat down next to her, trying to keep the optimism in his voice toned down a bit.  "Now, the war isn't won, but we have a solid industrial base to go of -- for once.  Combined with the deal we made with Tommy Boy, we've got a fighting chance of it even against the Clans.  Marik troops are going to start moving in as quick as they can load their boats, and we've got four brand-new destroyers just waiting for crews.  Even if Bolan goes over to the Mariks, we're still in this fight."

Daphne blinked away her tears.  "What about our home?"

"Hector will make them pay if they try to take it."  A shadow seemed to descend on him.  "I just wish I was there to help him."

"We already had that talk, Adam," she scolded.  "Leonidas died with his Spartans, but Adam Steiner can't be killed."


******


Major-General Hector Polczyk and the rest of the Revolutionary Guards Regimental Combat Team (Provisional) watched as the DropShip carrying their leaders arced away into the blue sky of New Apollo, disappearing into the heavens like an ascending angel.

The gruff officer grunted as the Chariot was lost from sight, then turned back to his troops.  "All right, faces front and center!"  The men and women in formation all turned to look at him, and he looked out on them.  They were resplendent in the crisp butternut brown uniforms of the PRAF, and he was proud of each and every one of them.  But word was spreading, and the Republic's protective veil of secrecy was being stripped away.  The presence of ComStar acolytes running the newly-installed HPGs was just the most visible sign that the Republic was about to enter the international limelight.  And given the threats the Rim faced, that was most assuredly not a good thing.

"Apollonians!  This is the capital of the Republic!  There are an awful lot of people out there who like wearing blinders.  They all think that we are the enemy.  We are exposed out here, and chances are that someone is going to come looking for blood.  They are going to want revenge for imagined slights and centuries-old insults that no one here can be blamed for.  They are going to want the satisfaction of a rebellion put down, an ancient enemy destroyed, and the death of the Republic.

"But we are not going to let them have it!  What we will let them have is a belly full of lead and a pool of their own blood to drown in!  Any invader who steps on this world is going to have to kill us all, each and every last one of us.  They want our lives?  They can have them if they can take them!  And if we have to give these bastards our lives, then we will give them Hell before we do!"

The Revolutionary Guard, the Apollonians, Adam Steiner's Brave Three Hundred, let out a thunderous roar of defiance and anger.  Hector Polczyk closed his eyes and let the undulating tympanum wash over him.  And smiled.

[DXM]

RRS Chariot of the Sun
Location Classified


As Adam Steiner took his seat, he took a look around at his staff.  The PRAF was small but growing fast, but that meant that it was a green force.  Untested.  Their equipment wasn't great, with one whole brigade based around an armored regiment instead of a 'Mech regiment.  Its soldiers were young and inspired, but that meant that they were also inexperienced, and lots of them were going to die before the Republic's war for independence could be declared won.

It also meant that the PRAF General Staff shared the same eclecticism, which always made their meetings interesting.

Adam held the rank of Colonel-General -- four stars -- the highest rank in the PRAF's revised structure.  He was also the most experienced battlefield commander in the PRAF, which combined with his excellent working relationship with the Republic's President, made him the only possible candidate as Chief of the General Staff.  As such, he represented no particular service.

To his right sat Major-General Israel Cohen, representing the Rim Republican Army.  Cohen was an old crony of his from the 14th Donegal Guards, where he commanded the infantry brigade.  In a time when most ground forces are over-dominated at command levels by BattleMech pilots, Cohen brought the practicality of an infantryman's mindset to the General Staff.  He was resolute, icily calm, and exceedingly thorough when dissecting operational plans.

Beside Cohen was Rear Admiral Abigail Starling.  A native of Stanley, Starling had started off as an LCAF aerospace pilot, but lost a leg during a training accident; she suffered from a rare disorder that prevented neural bonding with bionic replacements, which meant she could never fly again.  Forced to transfer over to DropShip operations, she commanded two different Claymore-class assault ships before mustering out.  When the pro-Republic revolutions began along the fringe, she joined up, and when the Rim managed to scrounge together a few old, mothballed WarShips, she was the natural choice to train their crews.  Vice Admiral Constantine St. Germaine was the actual Chief of Naval Operations, but Starling basically ran Rim Republic Fleet by herself.

Between Starling and Steiner were the true staff flunkies: Brigadier Mathias Hertzog, Adjutant-General; Colonel Enrico Lopez-Ceparo, Director of the Military Intelligence Corps; Lieutenant-General Mimi von Trapp, Operations Officer; Rear Admiral Russell Harker, Logistics & Supply Director; and sitting right next to Adam was Virginia Tatapolous, the Director of the Office of Special Intelligence.  Although a civilian and not technically part of the General Staff, Tatapolous sat in on the meetings.  Simply put, the OSI had so many back-doors into the LIC that Adam was beginning to wonder if there was anything Tatapolous didn't know about the Lyran state.  She was an old Lohengrin operative with a nasty reputation in the Skye region, where she'd spent most of her career.  She was a native of the original Apollo -- now under new management thanks to the Clans -- and had transferred her allegiance to Daphne Rowe almost as soon as Rowe hit center-stage in the Estates-General.  Apparently, blood really was thicker than water.

Adam cleared his throat, with cut short the side-conversations and brought all eyes to him.  He nodded to Thias Hertzog, who ran the meetings.  "Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to open today's meeting with the  good news."

"For once?" Starling quipped.  Everyone smiled, but a not-so-discreet throat-clearing from Steiner halted the chuckles.

"As you're all aware, large proportions of anti-spinward Bolan and Alarion Provinces have declared for the Republic.  While this dramatically increases our recruiting and industrial bases, it also inhibits us because we now have four times the territory to defend.  Rumors continue to circulate of LCAF regiments and even whole RCTs coming over as well, but despite repeated efforts by my office, we have not been able to confirm a single defection."

Colonel Lopez-Ceparo leaned forward.  "MIC is doing everything it can to help sort out which units are turning to which claimant to the throne, but Brigader Hertzog is correct: the situation is thoroughly confused.  However, this means that the UIW, Charley, Robert Kelswa, and Arc-Royal are having the same issues we are.  The end result is that its going to take a while -- call it six months at the earliest -- for the rest of the Lyran States to sort themselves out and actually be prepared for offensive operations.  Robert Kelswa is probably in the best position to start with, since he already has the solid loyalty of the Skye Rangers, Skye Jaegers, and the Tamar Cavaliers."

Adam spoke up.  "The President is already attempting to open a dialogue with Robert Kelswa-Steiner.  Initial contact has been peaceful and diplomatic, so I don't think we're going to have any issues with Skye."

Lopez nodded.  "Yes, sir.  I doubt he'd attack us anyway; in addition to his need to consolidate his hold on those systems that still claim to be Lyran one way or the other, he needs to strengthen his home base.  The entire Skye region isn't on lockdown yet, and by that I meant Hesperus.  Hesperus hasn't taken a side -- yet -- but if the break-up turns violent, Skye's going to need the Defiance facilities to counter Charlemagne's de facto ownership of Alarion and Coventry."

"We can help even the odds in that fight, sir," Mimi von Trapp said.  "My staff has begun operational planning for a strike on Alarion --"

"Absolutely not," Adam said rapidly.  That sort of commentary usually lead to a six-way screaming match, and that was not a good way to conduct business.  "Our resources are too thin right now to contemplate any sort of offensive."

Von Trapp wasn't ready to give up yet, though.  "Sir, we've received HPG confirmations from several FWLM commanders.  Marik troops will be inside the Republic in a matter of weeks, which will free up a proportion of our forces for maneuver ops.  We can't sit back and be reactive and expect to survive."

Adam spitted his ops officer with his hard, blue-eyed stare.  "General von Trapp, Thomas Marik has been very vague concerning just how many troops he's actually sending us.  We don't know their quality or what kind of gear they're bringing us.  We have no idea if they're supplying their own naval and aerospace support.  All we have right now is a promise of armed support.  Until we can get concrete numbers, we cannot rely on the FWLM to hold jack squat."

"But sir, if we could take Alarion, we would have access to enough yard-space to build something bigger than a corvette.  Conversely, we could immediately hand it over to Skye as a gesture of good will between us and the 'Archon.'  Imagine just who greatly the balance of power will tilt if Kelswa had Hesperus and Alarion."

"Not far enough."  All eyes turned to Virginia Tatapolous.  She was in her late seventies and looked every year of it, and had long ago earned the name "The Crone."  But that angry-grandmother persona served her well in situations just like this, because when she spoke, others listened.  "What you're all forgetting is that Charlemagne Steiner isn't just Alarion and Coventry and everywhere in-between.  He's a Clanner, which means his Clanner friends will back him up.  Frankly, I'd be surprised if Star Adder clusters aren't moving in as we speak."

"No, we, uh, did not take that into account.  Yet."  Von Trapp bit her lip, obviously feeling a fool.

"Our defenses should take immediate priority anyway," rasped General Cohen.  "The Spirit Cats hit Ender's Cluster with two front-line galaxies and a full five WarShips.  With New Apollo and the rest of the Hidden Worlds suddenly in the public eye -- I don't know who's idiot idea that was -- we need to look to their defense first."

"Hector's got command of New Apollo, Israel," Adam said.  "He's under orders to defend it the way he knows best."

"Knows best?" Cohen scoffed.  "Polczyk's a damn Clanner, Adam.  And I don't give a whit about his protestations of personal loyalty to you.  Look at his legacy of betrayals!  He was a Star Adder officer who betrayed his Warrior Caste Brothers or what-have-you to side with some scientist conspiracy.  Then he betrayed both his warriors and his scientists to help you get off of Somerset.  The Watch is no LIC, but they're getting better, and I'd put a buffalo nickel down that your good friend Hector Polczyk is actually a deep-cover agent just waiting for the right time to stab us all in the back."

There was a moment of silence like the calm before the storm, but the hurricane didn't break.  Adam Steiner just stroked his chin thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again.  "Point taken, Israel.  Don't bring it up again."

Cohen nodded, content that he'd gotten his point across.  "So what are going to do about the Cats then?"

Steiner laced his fingers together and leaned forward in his seat.  "General Polczyk has a plan to defend New Apollo, one that I'm not willing to share quite yet.  Should the Cats refuse to play by his rules, I want the Dragoons, the Fusiliers, and the Navy on stand-by to jump into New Apollo and pull his bacon out of the fire."

Admiral Starling raised an index finger.  "Sir, when you say 'The Navy,' which squadrons do you mean?"

Adam wanted to smile, but he couldn't.  With the way his burn-scars pulled at his face, he couldn't pull off 'grim' unless he kept his expression blank.  "All of them."

Starling's eyed bugged out of her head.  "But -- but -- those WarShips will carve us up!"

Steiner shrugged.  "I realize that Abigail, but we don't really have a choice.  We'll need the 1st Destroyer Squadron and the entirety of the Fleet Air Arm just to give the Dragoons, Fusiliers, and whatever else we can scrape together a fighting chance to break through to the surface.  And when I say the entirety of the FAA, I mean it -- fighters, DropShips, even the Customs flights.  I'm willing to abandon the capital if necessary, but if there's a chance we can save the Revolutionary Guard or, God willing, crush the Cats, then it's a risk I'm willing to take."

[DXM]

RRS Chariot of the Sun
Location Classified


Lieutenant-General Mimi von Trapp entered Adam Steiner's office with a curious look on her face.  "Good morning, sir.  You wanted to see me?"

"I did," Steiner replied, still shrugging into his uniform jacket.  He handed her a sheaf of papers, then went back to buttoning up his jacket.  "OSI's initial report on who came over to us."

"Holy Christ," she whispered as she scanned the pages.  More LCAF troops had defected to the Republic than the Republic had in its own indigenous armed forces.  "This is. . . amazing."

"It is indeed," Steiner replied.  "Which is why I'm green-lighting your op.  Planning it is your balliwick, but if you check the CIC, I made some notes on deployment, concept of the operation, etc."  He turned his steely blue-eyed gaze on her.  "This lets us kick Charlemagne square in the cojones, Mimi.  Get it done."

Von Trapp smiled and saluted.  "Yes, sir!"


*****

FLASH//FLASH//FLASH
TO: ALL COMMANDS, PRAF
FROM: CHARIOT
MSG FOLLOWS:

ALL COMMANDS COREWARD OF PHASE LINE BLACK AND ANTISPINWARD OF PHASE LINE GREEN ARE TO RENDEZVOUS AT OBJECTIVE BLACK.  OPERATIONS PLAN FOR "HANGMAN" FORTHCOMING AS SOON AS ALL COMMANDS RECEIVE PRAF CIPHERS.  UPON ARRIVAL OBJ BLACK, ALL COMMANDS CONSOLIDATE AS TASK FORCE "TITAN," CINC MG AUGUSTUS PIENAAR (TITAN 6).  3RD DESTRON WILL DEPART NAI 1619 TO PROVIDE SUPPORT TO OPERATIONS.  HOLD OBJ BLACK IF PRACTICABLE UNTIL "HANGMAN" COMMENCES.  NATIONAL COMMAND AUTHORITY HAS AUTHORIZED "HANGMAN" AT THE HIGHEST LEVELS.  ALL COMMANDS REPORT RECEIPT/UNDERSTANDING OF MESSAGE TO NCA/SUNRISE KINGDOM.

//NOTHING FOLLOWS//

[DXM]

RRS Fireant, Great X
Lyran Space

A marine opened the door to the impromptu holding cell, and Raymond Schuyler walked in.  He looked around the room -- which, given its former use as a VIP quarters, was quite plush -- and snorted.  He put the tray of food he was carrying down on the round common table that dominated the front room.  "Mom!  Dinner's on the table."

General Evelyn Mosovich came out of the suite's small bedroom still impeccably dressed, as always, in her crisp blue LCAF uniform.  She certainly looked none the worse for wear, which was good.  He wanted her healthy for when he presented her and the 416th Commonwealth Guards to Adam Steiner.

"Good evening, Colonel Schuyler," she replied formally.  "What's for dinner tonight?"

"Rehydrated beef stew," he said.  "Nice place we put you up in, eh?  Oh, and I've been brevetted to Brigadier so you can drop the colonel."

Mosovich frowned at his uniform.  He was still wearing his Lyran uniform, but the Steiner fist and Lyran-style rank patches had all been removed.  In their place was a single star of rank and the Apollonian Shark emblem of the Rim Worlds Republic.  The former commander of the 416th Guards looked ready to vomit.

"Why, Raymond?"

He shrugged in return.  "Loyalty is a hard thing to define.  Enjoy your meal."

"Not staying to gloat?"

He gave her a condescending smile.  "Plenty of time for that later.  'And miles to go before I sleep', and all that."  He tossed off something reminiscent of a proper salute and walked back out of the room.  The two marine guards nodded to him as they locked the door, then Brevet Brigader General Raymond Schuyler, general officer commmanding 416th Commonwealth Guards, went to his own stateroom and went to sleep.

*****

Remy Nordberg and Charles "Chuckles" Palace wandered through the corridors of the Fireant, having the kind of inane conversations used to pass the time during long and boring voyages through the dark depths of outer space.  They were both crewmen on the JumpShip, and when the mutiny happened, they had gone along with it.  They'd adopted Rim ranks and torn the Fists off of their uniform jackets.

But that didn't mean they wanted to.

They turned a corner and began moving down the next corridor.  A pair of marine guards armed with laser carbines turned to look at them.  Remy saw one frowning and glaring at them, but neither marine said anything nor moved to stop them.

As they drew even with the marines, Chuckles nodded to them.  "What's up, fellas?"

"Shut up and keep moving," the other guard, a gunnery sergeant, snapped.

Remy stopped.  "Hey, come on, bro, no need to be an ass."

The other marine brandished his carbine.  "Sure there is.  Now scram."

Remy and Chuckles looked at each other.  There was a moment of silence as a message seemed to pass between them, then both pulled medical stim injectors from their pockets.  The marines were caught flat-footed as the two spacers leapt forward and jabbed the injectors forward.  Both marines were out in seconds.

Chuckles wiped the sweat from his forehead.  "Phew.  I didn't think they were going to arm the guards.  Especially not with frigging las-rifles."

Remy snorted.  "All's well that ends well."

"It hasn't ended yet," said a new voice, and the two spacers turned to see Lieutenant Evan Danaher, the leader of their little counter-revolutionary band, striding down from the other end of the corridor with the other six members of their team in tow.  All were armed with pump-action shotguns quietly secured from the armory.  Two extra shotguns were passed off to Remy and Chuckles while their corpsman, Gertrude Lilly, checked the marines.

"They'll live," she said after a cursory examination, "but they won't stay out that long.  We have to hurry."

Danaher nodded, turned to the stateroom door, and opened it.  General Mosovich was standing in the doorjamb, having obviously been attempting to listen through the door.  She snapped back, her face heating in the normal reaction to someone who is caught red-handed doing something that in normal circumstances might be cause for censure.

Danaher saluted.  "Ma'am.  Lieutenant Evan Danaher, 15th Lyran Panzer Regiment.  I think its time you were off this boat, ma'am."

Mosovich smiled.  "Give me one of those riot-guns, lieutenant, and we can be on our way."

*****

Raymond Schuyler ducked behind a bulkhead as he heard the blunt roar of another shotgun firing.  A heavy beanbag whizzed past his head to smack into the wall behind him with a loud thud.  He swore silently to himself.  When those guards woke up, they were going to have a talk.

"Was that you, Colonel?" said a familiar voice.

"Come on, Granny!" he called back.  "You haven't been mistreated, and I won't hurt your friends either, I swear."

"Bullshit, Raymond.  Catch me if you can."

"Why, you --" he growled.  He drew his laser pistol and stepped around the corner and took a beanbag square in the chest before he could snap off a round with his pistol.  The riot-round blasted him off his feet and a burning pain shot through his ribcage.

He heard laughing from far-off.  "Good bye, Colonel.  Say hello to Adam for me."

Schuyler pulled himself out of the line of fire, watching as the rest of the marine squad returned fire with their own non-lethal-equipped shotguns.  The air was heavy with the smell of expended cordite and the whiz-thunk of flying beanbags.  Grasping his chest in pain, he leaned out of cover and looked down the hallway to where Evie Mosovich  and her rescuers were busy retreating into one of the boat bays.

"Get 'em, go-go-go!" he said, and his marines sprinted after them.  But the door had been sealed.  Schuyler climbed to his feet, grimacing through the pain in his chest, and pushed the marines out of the way.  He looked into the bay through the door's small porthole, watching as the group of counter-mutineers clambered aboard a pair of lifeboats.

"Should we launch fighters for intercept, sir?" asked one of his the marines, a lieutenant.

Schuyler covered his mouth with his hand as a cough wracked his body.  "Nah.  No.  Let them go."  He looked down at his hand to see it speckled with blood.  "God damnit, they ain't worth the trouble.  Just jump us the Hell out of here."

[DXM]

RRS Chariot of the Sun
Location Classified


Daphne watched the replaying news feed with horror in her eyes.

"My God, Adam.  Why. . . why would. . ."

Adam stood with his arms crossed, watching the eye-watering beams of orbital lasers and the mushroom cloud-impacts of naval gauss rounds smash into the surface of Hesperus.  The amount of pure, unadulterated firepower that had been directed at the planet had flattened huge swathes of the terrain, leveling out hillsides and picking new relief from the faces of the mountain ranges.  Wildfires had broken out and were eating away at the world's flora, threatening the historic city of Maria's Elegy even as the joint Skye-Marik task force moved in to seize the Defiance Industries complex.  For an officer like Adam Steiner, the devastation was an awesome display of power.

For his wife, it was a crime of the worst sort.

"Because, Daphne, that's the easiest way for them to win," he replied with steel in his voice.

"Win?  Are you serious?  The better part of two RCTs were wiped out and the ecological damage to the planet itself is going to take a century to fix.  Nobody won anything!"

Adam shook his head slowly.  For a woman who had managed to connive her way to the top of the Lyran Government, Daphne was awfully naive about how wars were fought. . . and won.

"I'd have done the same thing," he said quietly.

"No--"

"Yes.  If Robert wants to truly win the Archon's throne for himself, he needs to secure the major Lyran factory worlds.  He needs Hesperus and he needs Coventry, which is why Augustus stayed there to win it for him.  Horrible as the thought may be, this is how you win a war when you're outnumbered and outgunned."

"The Ares Conventions -- "

Another grim smile twisted Adam's burn scars into a parody of a smirk.  "Have their place, but desperate time s call for desperate measures.  This is civil war in a time of invasion.  The entirety of what was once the Lyran Commonwealth is ripping itself apart while the Clans chew on the edges.  We're the Inner Sphere's battleground against Keresnky's children, like i or not, and this is how this war is going to be ended.  Someday, we might have to do it, too."

Daphne shook her head.  "No.  I won't let you."

Adam didn't say anything.  He just stared at the trid set, watching the might of the Free Worlds Navy change the face of the Inner Sphere. . . and the light from the firestorms was reflected in his ice-blue eyes.

[DXM]

RRS Chariot of the Sun
Location Classified


Daphne retched for the fifth time although her stomach had been emptied since the second heave.  All that was coming up now was bile, acid-hot and yellow, and just smelling it on her own breath made her nauseous again.  She hurriedly flushed the toilet and stood up, turning on the faucet and rinsing the pungent remains of her vomit from her mouth.

This was the second day in a row, and Daphne was starting to have an inkling of what was going on.

She washed her face off with handfuls of cool water, regaining her composure, then walked back out into the bed chamber, pulling her robe tighter around her as she went.  One of the security detail -- Roger, the tall, rangy one with the flint-gray eyes -- was standing by with a medkit open and syringe in hand in case her sudden-onset vomit was the result of poison.

"Calm down, Roger," she said, slipping back into bed.  The bodyguard shrugged sheepishly, replaced the syringe and medkit, and headed for the door.  "Oh, by the way, where did Adam go?"

"Ma'am?" he asked, obviously confused.

"My husband?  Adam Steiner?  The other person you're paid to keep breathing?"

He blinked a few times.  "Ma'am, he left about two hours ago -- took a shuttle over to the Father Grim and left the system.  He said he told you his destination. . . "

Daphne was out of bed in the blink of an eye, rage obvious.  "And you just let him go!  Half of the human race wants to kill us and you just let him go?!?!"

"He said he had guards waiting for him at his destination."

Daphne looked around, eyes wildly searching the small stateroom they shared.  There.  She grabbed a folded piece of paper off her dresser and opened it to read Adam's quick, controlled hand-writing.


My Love,

The dogs are running like curs with their tails between their legs.  Time to make peace with the cats instead.  I know you won't agree with me, but since we're under martial law. . . well, not to put too fine a point on it, but I'm in charge.

Sorry dear.  If the Republic is to survive, this has to be done.  You can kill me after I've given us peace.

Love,

Adam.

[DXM]

Phocian Spaceport, The City of Troy
New Apollo, Apollonian Marches
Rim Worlds Republic

Adam Steiner surreptitiously  brushed the lint from his butternut-brown dress uniform and straightened his braided cap as the Spirit Cat DropShip touched down on the VIP pad.  Cameras whirred and gigged in the near distance as the hastily-gathered press corps did their dead level best to get the best shots of the Clan invaders come for parley.

Steiner took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm the surge of anger that bubbled just beneath the surface.  He was going to be blunt with this Roy West, but there was no need to be an asshole.

The Spirit Cat Khan's honor guard of OmniMechs disembarked, marching down the DropShip's ramp in a near and orderly row of glimmering black and blue.  A Nova Cat led the march, but other "classic" Spirit Cat – nee Nova Cat – designs were also counted amongst their number, including a Supernova and a pair of Grendels.

It was an impressive show of force, all things considered, and the ferrocrete beneath Steiner's feet shook with each heavy footfall.  The Clan 'Mechs were marching in step, in perfect synchronicity, a display of consummate piloting skill.

Steiner didn't care about any of that, for behind him, in two arrow-straight ranks that formed a giant corridor with him standing at its entrance, was an entire battalion of the Revolutionary Guards.

The heavy and assault 'Mechs were painted a deep, dark red the color of dried blood, with the Apollonian Shark insignia proudly displayed upon their right shoulders and the golden hoplon shield of the Guards painted upon their left shoulders.  They were dominated by designs which carried heavy armor, the sheer weight of each 'Mech a by-product of the predominantly Lyran heritage of the men and women who made up its ranks.  Here an Atlas, there an Awesome or Grand Titan or Fafnir or Zeus.  The Spirit Cat honor guard was outnumbered two to one and outmassed by at least three to one.

Standing immediately on either side of Adam Steiner was a squad of the Death's Head Regiment.  The eight suits of Inner Sphere Standard battle armor were smaller than Clan Elementals, but they still towered over Steiner and his companion.  Unlike the Guards, the Death's Heads' armor was matte-black, the paint used so completely flat that it seemed to suck up the pale, butter-yellow light from New Apollo's early-morning sun.  Predictably, the head-pieces of the armor had been redesigned and sculpted in the likeness of a human skull and painted a dull off-white; with enough polishing, it looked almost exactly like natural bone.

Roy West followed his 'Mechs down the ramp, walking at a stately pace that made it appear that he was the one in charge here – typical Clanner arrogance.  He nodded appreciatively at the show of force the defenders of New Apollo were putting on, and Steiner detected a hint of a smile at the showmanship of the Death's Heads' battle-armor.

The line of Clan 'Mechs halted at the head of the double-rank of Revolutionary Guards, but Roy West stepped out from under their shadows and approached Steiner with a hand outstretched.  They shook hands, both of them squeezing perhaps a little harder than exactly necessary; one more bit of brinksmanship between warriors.

"Khan West," Steiner said simply as they grasped hands.  He was damned if he was going to welcome this man to his world.

"General Steiner," he replied with a smile and a nod.  "Please, call me Roy.  Can I call you Adam?  A very fine disp –"

"No, you may not," Steiner interrupted.

West stumbled over his words.  "Excuse me?"

"You may not call me Adam," he replied, his cobalt eyes hard and cold.  "You may call me General Steiner.  And allow me to be honest with you, Khan West – I wish like Hell that we didn't have to have this conversation.  I don't want you here and you are not welcome, but we're all slaves to circumstances and right now, my choices are limited.  I am not your friend and you are not mine, so let's drop the pleasantries and cut right to it."

West narrowed his eyes at Steiner, then at the man standing beside him.  "And who is this man?" he asked, nodding in the other's direction.

The other man was tall and broad-shouldered, his scalp and face clean-shaven and olive-skinned, contrasting lightly with the dark butternut of his uniform.  He stepped forward, but did not offer a hand or even salute.

"Major-General Hector Polczyk, Revolutionary Guards," he said.

"General Polczyk is late of Clan Star Adder," Steiner added, which raised West's eyebrows a bit.  "He commands the planetary garrison and is here as my aide."

West nodded, accepting the statement without putting voice to the questions in his eyes.  "Very well.  Then let us cut to the heart of the matter?"


*     *     *     *     *


". . . and such an agreement would not only bring peace to your people, as your President Rowe espoused so strongly to me, but also secure you against further Clan aggression."

Steiner had been shaking his head throughout West's entire presentation.  The ride to the conference room, though short, had been quiet and uncomfortable.  West's joviality had disappeared, dispersed like a puff of smoke at the hands of a strong gust of wind by Steiner's up-front hostility.  Even Polczyk, Clan-born as he was, refused to be drawn into conversation with the Spirit Cat saKhan; there were only so many one-word answers and grunts one could take as replies before one just had to stop asking questions.

"The President and I conferred over this deal the first time you offered it to you, Khan West.  The answer was 'no' then, and nothing has changed," Adam said.  He leaned forward in his seat, elbows now resting on the Cruz Altan mahogany conference table.  "The Republic isn't looking to merge with a Clan.  The Rim Worlds have been struggling to regain their identity for a while now and now that they've attained it, the very last thing they're going to want to do is subsume it to a Clan."  He held up a hand to forestall any arguments.  "I realize you're trying to make a compromise here, but that's not what I asked you for.  This isn't a merger discussion; it's supposed to be a negotiation for the cessation of hostilities against the Republic.  This –" he nodded at the data-slate in West's hands "—isn't going to fly no matter how you try to sell it.  What I want to know is if there is anything I can offer you that will make you stop attacking a people who only want to live their own lives free of outside interference."

[Hugin]

Nodding at his aide Roy West pushed some buttons

While he spoke a coded message was forwarded to the Dropship and instantly relayed to the Jumpship who again sent it into the Void of the HPG network.

"Well; this was obviously a royal waste of time... Adam"

he rose, picked up his datapad and the one he handed to the Steiner

"I think we will meet again soon..."

His aide hurled forward to open the door for him

"You do not want me as a partner, I will be delighted to take you as a bondsman...
Good bye"

With theese words he left the room

[DXM]

Steiner didn't bother standing up.  "I thought you came down here to negotiate," he said as West walked towards the door.  "Did you honestly think I was just going to agree to an offer we've already rejected once?"  As West kept walking, Adam just shook his head.  "Why'd you bother making the trip?"

[Hugin]

He stopped, turning around

"Negotiations include offers GENERAL Steiner
You have not made any besides 'stop killing my people and retreat'. The Cats are in a position of strength. You will have to offer me something of real interest... or see your nation and your powerbase cuble beneath the feet of my Mechs..."