NationStates Jolt Archive

Task Force Linebacker Hospital ship
Seljuk System
Liberated Territories of the New Ortagan Hegemony
08 October 573 A.L

Archer Christifori was uncomfortable, but any movement only made things worst. With three broken ribs and numerous sprains, just about any position was painful. They’d given him painkillers but that left him trapped somewhere between agony and consciousness seemingly floating out of his body, but still painfully attached.

A ceiling fan spun overhead, rotating around and around, it squeaked every other rotation; that annoying distraction was his only form of entertainment. There was no way to keep track of time in this place which left Archer wondering just how long he had been stuck in the hospital, and just how much longer he would remain confined to it. He hoped it would not be for more then a few days. To make his situation worst the hospital sheets were made from the most uncomfortable fabric, it itched badly. Using his right arm, the uninjured one, he pulled the sheet off for what seemed like the hundredth time and tried to find a more comfortable position.

It had been a hell of a week. Months of tedious space travel from Ticonderoga to Yalta, through the campaign under Forrest to take the capital of the Hegemony. Their long transit was interrupted by a sudden quick terror in the intensity of that epic battle. He had then been sent with Task Force Linebacker to relieve the ground troops of Task Force 12.4 which was sent to liberate the prisoners trapped on Seljuk. 12.4 was a large Verniian fleet which slugged its way through the orbitals of the system, who then landed on the planet to capture its POW camps. The planet was well fortified and orbital bombardment was out of the question as it would kill any captives on the planet as well and forbidden under Admiral Forrest’s direct orders. As such landings and ground warfare was required.

The Hegemony was already wrecked by Civil War and beset by the combined allied fleets, it could not survive, but the Ortagans were a tenacious people. The hunters who came to Seljuk soon found themselves reeling under the fanatic counter-attack of an unexpectedly strong and determined foe. Galt had pulled many of his remaining security divisions back to his primary planet, and so the Allied forces found themselves fighting many more foes then initial expected. The initial landing forces had pushed with ease to within kilometers of the largest camps where they were ambushed by heavy enemy forces. In some positions they fought through, in others, most, they were falling back to their drop ships, and confusion reigned on the battlefield as bitter enemies fought.

Archers unit the Tenth Lyran Guards, was part of the hastily assembled relief force that was being sent to the surface to stall the advance of Ortagan units against the retreating allied forces, in this case it was the 71st Armor Brigade of the Imperial Army. They had been fighting no less then two Security Brigades in their fighting retreat out of the Dhuan Swamp. The Wickains had maintained their ground forces even after their eviction from Thetis, the Tenth Lyran Guards was one of the most well respected regiments from the old world, and now in peace time it defended Side 17. Wickian Army, forces consisted of BattleMechs as well as more traditional combined arms assets.

Archer contemplated these memories as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He heard footsteps in the hall. They weren’t the soft padding of nurses’ shoes, but rather the familiar jingle of spurs, the unmistakable trademark of officers of the Concordat Armed Forces, of which land units such as his company of guards and monitor wings were comprised. He lifted his head to see who was approaching , and several blurred figures entered his field of vision.

“Major Christifori” he heard one of them say. Archer blinked to focus his eyes.

“Sir,” he managed to respond, brining his good right arm up for a salute even though he was flat on his back. He immediately recognized General Victor Stiener-Davion, his commander and the overall commander of Task Force Linebacker, but not the other officers with him in foreign uniforms.

“I’ve read the after action reports submitted by Brigadier Saurrat on your relief and rescue mission, major,” the Protector said with a slight smile. “That was one hell of a stunt you pulled”

Archer shook his head slightly. “Not really, sir. Just following orders.”
The General cocked his head slightly “I don’t recall giving the order to drop right into the middle of an Ortagan advance, Major.” He said gruffly.

Archer closed his eyes slightly. Memory flooded back though the haze of his drugged brain.


The dropship quaked. “Captain Strong, bring us in right between the 71st and the Ortagans.” Archer ordered.

“Roger that Major,” came Strong’s reply in Archers headset. “You are one minute to drop and counting. LZ is hot.”

He switched to the Command Company’s frequency.
“There’s not a lot of time, so listen up. Our mission is to relieve the 71 Armor. These people have paid for this operation with their blood, and we’re here to make sure they live to celebrate the victory. I want a wide dispersal directly between the Orts, and the 71st . Form a battle line with the command lance on the left flank, Striker in the center, Stalker on the right.

”Your orders are simple. No Orts are to punch through to the 71st.”

“Sir,” said Lieutenant Moss, “they outnumber and outgun us. Second Company will be up in twenty. Shouldn’t we wait?”
“Those folks have already been through hell. We’re going to finish what they started. Remember, no Orts get through.”

Archers eyes cracked open slowly. “Your orders were to relieve the 71st, sir. If I had waited , good warriors would have died. Too many had already.”

The General nodded. “I’m not criticizing what you did Major. I’m praising it. Not only did you assume a good piece of ground, you also took the initiative without hesitation. According to the reports filed by your commanders, your personally engaged a total of six heavy walkers and tanks at once. That was a hell of a feat.

Archer drew a long deep breath, part of him still caught in the memory.

“I have multiple bogies closing fast, All weight classes,” said Lieutenant Firscoe over the commline. His voice was tinged with fear.

The short-range sensors of Archer’s Penetrator didn’t paint a happy picture either. There were too many Ortagan walker’s and armor and they were pursuing the battered remnants of the 71st like rabid dogs.

“All right people, this is where we pay back for Ticonderoga. The Orts have trashed their own engagement rules, so keep your heads straight. Your orders are to engage multiple targets- engage them all. Fire at anything that even tries to break through the line.”

The First oncoming ‘Mech was an Ortagan Heavy Walker, its mottled grey camouflage already burned and gouged in several places. It crested the ridge off to his left, moving along the flank of his line. It didn’t even try to engage him. It was pursuing the 71st withdrawing through the surrounding marshland, amd its bird like gait made it seem to bob across his field of vision.

Archer twisted his Penetrator’s torso and jabbed the joystick forward so that the targeting reticule drifted over the lumbering walker. He locked a trio of his medium pulse lasers onto the same target interlock circuit and kept his ‘mech moving forward to keep the distance steady. He triggered the lasers and the air filled with bright emerald bursts as the beams stitched into the side and rear of the walker. The beams found their mark rocking the walker and peppering armor plating. The Walker’s gait slowly ground to a halt as it turned to face his attack.

Archer moved further up the hillside as a hover tank also attempted to burst past. Ignoring the approaching walker he targeted the hover tank and let go with his extended-range heavy lasers. The temperature in his cockpit spiked if only for a moment.

“Drop ship Hill, this is Black Six, what is your ETA?” He said, the sweat running into his eyes inside his neuro-helmet.

“Black Six this is A. P. Hill. We’ll be on top of you in twelve.”

“make it five…”

‘The report overstates the engagement, sir.” Archer said “Second Company’s drop ship was only a few minutes away. My right flank folded, but the center and left held. I just wanted to shoot as many damned Orts as possible to get them tied up on me rather then the 71st.”

“The rest of your company was eventually forced to pull back, but you held your ground.”

Archer’s flushed red at the note of respect in the Price’s voice. “Sir, you’ve been in command of the Tenth Guards for a long time. You know that in combat situations tend to be fluid.”

“But not like this, Major. When you were recovered you’d already punched out. Your ‘Mech had suffered almost ninety-two percent armor loss. Around you were four walkers, two tanks, and eight powered armor infantry, and according to your battlerom you killed them all.”

It all happened so fast and so quickly that Archer had acted on instinct, he only remembered brief horrific moments of his stand.

“Yes sir, I guess I did.”

The general patted him gently on the shoulder and smiled. “We’re finishing mopping up here Major. Tomorrow we are headed out to the next hot spot. In the mean time it is my distinct pleasure to award you the Medal of Eternal Vigilance for consummate courage in the tradition of Wickian armed forces. He held out the medal which glittered in the glare of the overhead lights.

Archer gave him a weak wave of his one good hand. “Sir with all due respect this belongs more to the members of the 71st. They fought for almost a week. I only fought for a few minutes. One of them surely deserved the medal more than me.”

“Don’t sweat it, Major. I’ve handed these out to many members of the initial landings. Only ,two members of the relief forces were nominated for the honor, each by the commanders of the initial landing units.”

Archer was stunned. He looked at the medal in his open palm.
“It was forged from the armor melted off Ort tanks.” The general said closing Archers hand around it.

“My sister,” Archer stammered, “ I’m going to give it to her.” The medal as cool against his skin and it felt like it belonged in his hand. “She’s been running the family business back home all the time I’ve been away. She had to carry on all alone. I couldn’t even be there when our parents died. We’re the only family either of us has, and I promised that this would be my last campaign.”

The general nodded. “Family is important. The service doesn’t want to lose you, but there is more than on kind of obligation in this life. I, too have a sister who means a great deal to me. Your sister will be proud of you. You’re a hero. It’s a great tribute, and it makes me even more proud that your are a member of my personal command- the Tenth Lyran Guards.”

“She deserves this more than I do.
Archer murmured drowsily, still thinking of Andrea, there conversation had drained him of most his energy.

“My father told me once that medal and decorations were not so much for those who wear them but for the rest of society. It gives them something to admire, something to aspire to.” Archer thought he saw a longing look in the General’s eyes, as if he wished his father was still alive, to see all his son had done.

“Your father was a great man,” Archer said.” If he said it, then it must be so.” His voice was slurred still fighting the pull of the drugs. “Sir,” he managed at last, “Thank you.”

“No, Major.” Victor Davion said, clasping Archer’s good hand which still held the medal, “Thank you.”

Part One: One Man’s Rebel is Another Man’s Patriot

“…Doctor Talman, as a long time observer of the political situation in the Great March, I’d very much like to hear your thoughts on the recent troubles in the Ticonderoga System. Take the recent food riots on Side 14 for instance.

“Well in my opinion the incidents broadcast from Side 14 or Tsia as the Wickians call it were presented completely out of context by the media.”

“Doctor, isn’t that skirting the issue? I was asking you to comment on President Colbert’s order to suppress the Ginske supporters, which seems to have fueled a new wave of protests throughout the Sides? All of which have been put down with an iron heel.”

“You and your viewers will have to draw your own conclusions, Mr. Forrester. History is replete with examples of capable and well-loved leaders forced to beyond the rule of law in the interests of keeping the peace. The situation in Ticonderoga was only a minor incident which the media has blown all out of proportion.

Holoclip from Face the Planet, interview with Dr. Stephen Talman of University of Cardona. 25 August 574

Cylindrical Colony 008
Tsia, Side Eleven, Ticonderoga
Ticonderoga
Capital System of the Wickian Concordat
August 27, 574 A.L

Archer Christifori stood watching as one of his transports, a Union class Angelfire, as it boosted from the docking ring near the secondary docking bay for the side. The corporate logo of Chirstifori Express, a planet with rigns and the initials C.E in yellow underneath were lit by the pale blue light of the system’s primary. He always came down to watch whenever one of his transports was headed out. His father had done it before him way back on old Thetis, and it seemed like a good tradition.

His communicator beed twice and he tapped it on to receive “ This I s the Angelfire he heard the DropShip captain say. “Dockmaster has given us the green light Mister Christifori.”

Archer raised the communicator to his lips. “Good luck on your run Captain Fullerton. And see if you can lay your hands on some Grayson Ale While your in AC.” Christifori had developed quite a taste for that ale from the distant Talbott Cluster, it was quite a treat for the standard fare everyone ate normally. He watched the egg shaped DropShip boost towards its Jumpship, a felt pride at the company his sister managed to keep together during the tough year of war while he was away.

A hand on his shoulder broke the spell, and he turned to see his sister Andrea. She was shorter than him by at least a head, but her body was strong and muscular.

“So Lee Fullerton’s on his way,” she said, tilting her head to watch as the ship became no more then a small dot.

“It’ll be a profitable run. Shipping spare parts and ammunition for the military is suddenly a booming business.”

His sister frowned slightly “If our President wasn’t so busy suppressing Ginske’s supporters , he wouldn’t need be needing to ship spare parts to his regiments.

Archer smiled fondly; he’d heard it all before from Andrea. She opposed the way things were going in the Guilds bloc of the system and she blamed the current President. Robert Colbert had been busy consolidating his administration after the fall of the previous Presidents Government over six months ago. And Andrea believe he was putting his personal ambitions above the well fare of his people.

Though Colbert was still immensely popular in the Congress, and through most the guild sides, as he had efficiently distributed food rations and medicine, it seemed for the first time since the end of the war, people were going to bed at night without and empty stomach.

Yet it seemed the new President didn’t have the situation entirely under control. He’d managed to get elected after the failure of Ginske’s Reform Act, but even disposed Ginske had his faithful supporters. Not only was he son and heir to a prominent guild family, he was a decorated veteran of the War. He made no move to oppose his disposition but he wouldn’t have to look far for help if he did.

Colbert was a guild man through and through, and when push came to shove he always seemed to support their mercantile ideals against the Navy or Independent side. Protests have become even more frequent in the Sides that where loyal to Ginske namely the Navy and Indy sides, each of which were receiving less in aide and humanitarian relief then the guild sides. Colbert had allowed Guild Security, Mercenary, and even Naval forces to quell any violent uprisings or discontent. Such actions even shocked normally quiet and complacent citizens like Archer and his sister. This wasn’t a war where soldiers were fighting soldiers but warriors killing civilians in the streets.
“I think you’ve made your feelings well known,” Archer said quietly. His sister had penned more than on long and scathing editorial published in the habitats paper.

“I wish you would too, Archer.” Andrea said. “You’re the one wo’s popular and well-known here. If you spoke out against the President’s orders people would listen.” He saw she still wore the medal of Vigilance around her neck on a long chain, it connected them, a linchpin. Archer had come home a hero, parades, and balls held in his honor. He grew tired of them quickly and disgusted the offers for endorsements by many companies from sports drinks to underwear of all things.

“I am a Warrior Andrea. I may not approve of the Presidents orders, but he is our legitimate head of state. People have a right to speak their mind but when they bring weapons to protests, things get violent, lets just hope this craziness doesn’t spread to here." The riots and violence in the Navy and Independent sides was like a storm in their system, Archer could almost see the storm approaching. How long before it broke wide open, sweeping everything before it?

He looked at his watch and shook his head. “I have to go.”

“Yes, I understand that our new Keepers have arrived.” She said bitterly.

“The Fifteen Arcturan Guards on the habitat do not make them our keepers. Their posting here is simply a rotation, that is all. Trust me Andrea military and security units rotate all the time.” He said reassuring her.

“And now your going to go kowtow to their commanding officer. She chided.

“Archer stiffened not quite Andrea. I am in the command of the habitats Militia. Colonel Blucher is regular army, making him my superior officer, On paper I report to him, his dossier says he is a professional officer which mean he and I will get along just fine.”

“Then answer me this Archer. We’re not a Farming habitat, or an industrial habitat, we are quite self-sufficient and haven’t had any violent dissent…”She paused.

“Your point?”
“What are they here to defend us from?”
Archer frowned slightly and turned away without answering. He had an appointment to keep.

+ + +

The Fifteenth Arturan Guards were garrisoned in a small fortress constructed near the primary solar panel control building in the southern suburbs of Ecol City. Legate Gregori Kruschav maintained a larger wall compound deep into the Guild City and was largely responsible for policing the town while Archers force had been relegated to the auxiliary control stations. These buildings were the brain of any habitat as they controlled the immense solar panels which collected the energy to power and heat the habitats. Archers militia force had been responsible for garrisoning the defensive position before the arrival of the larger professional unit. Even so the fort was in a more run down part of the town, perhaps granting Blutcher’s unit the honor of garrisoning it was a subtle stub to his face from the Guild’s Legate.

He showed his papers to the guard, who looked them over quickly, then motioned him through the gate. Archer crossed the reinforced ferrocette of the courtyard with a strict military gait, his boot heels clicking smartly. At the entrance to the Mech Bay the enormous ‘Mech bay he paused to observe the bustle of activity. Inside standing in gantries, was a full company of BattleMechs. Technicians scrambled over them like busy spiders performing their work.

As he stood there , a somewhat shorter man approached from the interior of the cavernous bay. Where Archer’s Militia uniform was a lighter green, this man wore the darker green dress uniform of the Concordat Armed Forces. The rank insignia on his shoulders identified him as the man Archer was to meet-Colonel Felix Blucher. Archer saluted as the man approached.

“Lieutenant Colonel Christifori, I presume.” Blucher said, with a slight Germanic accent which was rare for a Wickian.

“Sir.”

The Colonel studied his face. “I’ve head a great deal about you, Lieutenant Colonel. Your record of service during the Great March War and in Task Force Linebacker is well known.”

Archer nodded slightly. “You have me at a disadvantage Colonel. I only know you from the brief dossier provided, and that was scant on detail.”

Blucher gave him a thin smile. “I was only recently given command of the Fifteenth. After Colonel Houston’s accident I was brought over from side Four. I had the privilege to baby-sit that side during the war.”

“That is some impressive equipment you’ve brought with you, sir.”

Blucher nodded. “Yes First Battalion tends toward heavier equipment. Even for old soldiers like you and I, these machines still hold a touch of magic about them, don’t they?”

“Yes, sir.” Archer longed, if only for an instant for another time, another place. “I’ve brought you the TO&E of my commanded.” He handed the file to the colonel.

“You mean my command, don’t you?” Blucher asked coyly.

Archer was caught off guard. “Of course, colonel. As the ranking regular army officer on this habitat, we are yours to command.”

“No offense taken. I tend to favor formality, however. Something of a character flaw, I’ am afraid.” Blucher glanced at the file then closed it and slid it under his armpit. “Looks like you’ve got roughly a battalion of troops.”

“We have a company of ground armor and VTOL elements and a full company of BattleMechs as well as infantry,” Archer said.

Blucher fixed im with his deep red eyes. “And their loyalties, Lieutenant Colonel?”

That question caught Archer even more off guard. “They are loyal, sir” he said finally.

Blucher smiled and clapped Archer on the shoulder. “My apologies for being so blunt but you must understand that I am here to ensure that this Habitat of Tsia remains a peaceful part of the Concordat. Surely you’ve head the reports of disturbances on a number of our Sides fomented by factions who oppose our President.”

“My people are loyal to the government,” He said firmly.

“then there will be no problems,” Blucher returned. “What I must ask you next is more personal. I mean no offense by it, you understand, but I was given some intelligence regarding this habitat that forces me to do so.”

“Go ahead, sir.”

“What about your own loyalties Christifori?”

Archer didn’t flinch. “I am a loyal citizen of the Ecol City and Tsia, it had been my home for more then twenty years now. Politics don’t interest me, sir. As for these rebellious acts, I’m not in favor of anything that places the innocent at risk.

“If your asking me if I back the President, I would have to say that I question some of his recent actions, but only because I’m not in favor of anything of any threat to our rights as free citizens. But my loyalty has never been in question either now or in the past.” As if to emphasize the point, he glanced down at the three rows of ribbons on his uniform, including the one with the star of Vigilance.

“I understand fully Lieutenant Colonel Christifori. However, I understand that your sister has written an inflammatory editorial against the President that was published recently. That aroused concern among upper command that you might be siding with some of the rebellious groups here in Ecol City. They wanted a full investigation of you, but I convinced them that it would be better if you, and I talked first rather than jump to conclusions”

“Did you get the answer you were looking for?” For the first time Archer couldn’t help the trace of anger in his voice.

“Yes, I did. Though as a fellow officer, perhaps you will permit me to advise that you caution your sister about her writings. This is not the right political climate for voicing dissent.”

“My sister is all I have left of my family sir. Our parents both died while I was away defending the Raumreich form Ortagan aggression. I never had time for a wife, or even a life outside the military. She’s all that I have left now. I want to protect her, not try to keep her from expressing her opinions. Though you say this is not the time to voice dissent, she would day that this is exactly the time to do so. If you have a problem with her, I suggest that you speak with her directly.”

“That is not necessary. I just wanted to start off on the right foot and be honest and straight forward in our dealing with one another.”

:Fair enough. Now if you’ll indulge me, sir, I have a question for you,” Archer countered “What are your thoughts on what’s been happening on the navy and independent aligned Sides?”

If Blucher had eyebrows one would have raised as if he were impressed by the boldness of Archer shifting from the defense to the offense. He actually chuckled slightly as he began to speak. “Lieutenant Colonel Christifori, I am a military man from a long line of military officers. A blucher has served in the Armed Forces or the Navy since the Liberation from the Vagrants. I prefer my fights to be against other soldiers. I didn’t bring my Regiment to Tsia and my battalion to Ecol City to bully free citizens.

“Don’t get me wrong.” Blucher added firmly, “ I’m more than willing to defend the Concordat against any enemy, even those from within. I wouldn’t look forward to it, I wouldn’t relish it. But I like you swore an oath to our President. He is the law of the land and our rightful leader and my duty is to serve him and his office.

“There now you have my answer, is it what you expected?”

Archer didn’t speak for a moment. “I had no expectations, Colonel.”

Blucher reach out to shake his hand. “You and I are not so different. We are both soldiers at heart. You’re militia now, but you spent plenty of years on the front lines in some of the bloodiest fighting of the last century. We’ve both faced down our enemies from the cockpits of our ‘Mechs and won.

“Over time, Archer, I believe that we two will get to know each other well and even become friends. That is my sincere wish.”

Archer’s tightened his grip on his new commanding officer’s hand. “We do have a lot in common, sir,” was all he felt he could honestly say. His eyes drifted over to the fortress as the morning detail began to raise the Wickian Concordat’s flag. The simulated wind was not blowing today and the flag hung limp on its grommets.

The image struck Archer as ominous. Was it, he wondered a sign of the times?

Civil disturbances and protests have increased in frequency and volume in the Navy and independently aligned side in our capital system, some even calling for President Colbert to step down. Also reported is the occasional anti-Ginske rally, though these are almost always held on guild controlled sides where starvation and unemployment is not so prevalent. The guild leaders have prospered under Colbert Administration, while the common man seems to feel that he is getting less and less of the pie.

Dana Powell, Newswatch Station FTCTV, Ticonderogan Concordat, 30 October, 574

Ecol City, Side Eleven
Tsia, Ticonderoga System
Capital of the Wickian Concordat
01 November, 574

The shell that had once been a restaurant and bar still spewed a thin haze of smoke as Felix Blucher stepped through the security cordon surrounding the rubble. He caught the hint of dust and ozone in the air and the odor of something rotting in the debris. It smelled like long- spoiled food, though only two days had passed since the explosion. The Foolery’s location a mere block from the fort had made it an instant favorite of the Arcturian Guards. All that stood now were the rearmost wall and common wall shared with the business next door, whose shattered windows were still being swept off the streets. The rest was a sprawling mound of broken bricks, concrete , piping , wiring, metal, and the odd personal effect lost during the explosion.
Blucher had dined there only a few days earlier, and could just have easily have come again the night the explosion killed everyone in the building. Including some of his own people. Worst yet, it looked like this was neither an accident nor random violence. From what he’d read in the preliminary report, there was some evidence of sabotage.
His aide de camp, Lieutenant Luther Fisk, came up alongside him as Blucher surveyed the damage, one booted foot propped on the overturned cornerstone of the building. Blucher caught a whiff of the man’s cologne. It was expensive and in the colonel’s mind, somehow not befitting an officers.
“What’s the report on our people?” he asked without preamble.
“One dead, three in critical condition.” Fisk said.
“And the civilian casualties?”
“Eight killed, two injured.” Fisk spoke as though he were talking about livestock rather than humans.
“What a waste,” Blucher said more to himself than his aide. “Any leads on who did it or why?”
Fisk shook his head, “I don’t have specifics, Colonel, and the locals all claim they haven’t a clue who might be responsible. But you and I know.”
“We do?” Blucher said, Feigning ignorance.
“who else but Ginske Loyalists? This was a deliberate act of terrorism. They’ve been protesting our posting to Tsia, and now They’ve killed some of our people.”
Blucher turned to look at his aide. “A hundred people with picket signs calling for fair treatment hardly constitutes a raging terrorist movement. Your spouting theories, Lieutenant, I need facts, NOT speculation.”
“I’m just following the logic, sir. “ Fisk said defensively. “There hasn’t been a terrorist act in Ecol City much less Tsia in over a decade. Now we have protesters calling for the President to step down, followed by vicious attacks on our troops.”
Blucher swept his arm toward the mound of rubble. “Has forensics got anything?”
“They believe a bomb set off the gas pipes in the basement.”
“They believe? Aren’t they sure?”
Fisk hesitated. “Well, they found evidence of explosives-gunpowder. No fragments typical of a bomb, but the investigation continues.”
Blucher shook his head. “That’s not evidence. It could be nothing more than some ammunition stored in the basement set off the explosion.”
“Well Colonel, our intelligence people have been tipped that this was a deliberate act-the work of one or more cells of an organized resistance movement here in Ecol City.”
“any hard, tangible evidence?”
“None yet sir, but it is only a matter of time.”
Blucher rubbed his temple as if it would ease his mind. He didn’t like this at all. A guild appointee Luther Fisk was ambitious, eager to pressure him into territory he wasn’t ready to enter. Fisk was a young man with a powerful father, not a real military officer whose main concern was the welfare of his troops, his command, as well as the civilian population they were suppose to protect. He cared more about politics and how he might or might not benefit from any given situation or action. To Blucher, who had dedicated his career to performing with honor, that attitude stank of dark alleys and smoke filled rooms. It was also an attitude that was becoming much to common in the armed forces that were being rebuilt from the Great War, with many more officers from the aristocratic minded guilds.
Yet this time the young officer was probably right. This thing had all the markings of a terrorist attack. It also fit the pattern of reports of sabotage against government troops garrisoned on other Sides. But they had nothing to go on. Whisper in the dark, rumors, dark lies, wild guesses- that wasn’t enough. Felix Blucher was a pragmatic man who needed to see solid evidence before making up his mind.
“Here’s what we’ll Lieutenant. We’ll issue a press release saying that we suspect a terrorist attack, but that we’re still investigating. We will stress that we’re here to maintain the peace in Ecol City, which is a habitat in a Side the President regards as an important member of his state. You will draft it and have it on my desk by 0730 tomorrow morning.”
“Colonel, we have an entire battalion in Ecol City, and three more in the surrounding habitats of Tsia, the Fifteenth is a first-rate command. Why not deploy them as a policing force.? We could say it was to protect the interests and lives of civilians in case we are dealing with terrorists. A heavily armed presence on the streets would calm the truly loyal citizens and at the same time would send a clear message to those responsible.”
“Lieutenant, I am a serious student of history. I understand what you say, but perhaps you haven’t considered all the implications.
“Putting our troops on the streets will not scare off dedicated terrorists, if that is what we’ve got here. All it will do is make our people easier targets for further attacks. Besides, Battle Mechs and Tanks are mighty weapons of war but they make lousy riot control gear. It will surely set off another incident like what we’ve been seeing on Kittery or Sytris, and those are incidences tat may make all of us pay in the long term
“But the loyal citizens on this world-“
“Will see this for what it is, a tragic explosion that took the lives of civilians and soldiers alike. True, they will no see a Battle Mech on every street corner, but the tradeoff is that when they wake up tomorrow, they will see Ecol City as it was the day before.”
“Colonel, you’ve read the report from intelligence. They’ve identified several rabble-rousers beginning to emerge among the civilian population, people calling for the President to step down. Are you going to ignore that as well?”
“You’re right, Fisk. We’ve got a number of people with the potential to become rebels. That’s the reason we won’t supply them with the reason to revolt. I will draft an order today that these individuals be brought in so we can talk with them. It won’t be an interrogation, nor will they be held for any period of time. I want to meet with them, tell them where we stand, come to terms early on if possible.”
Fisk’s shock was apparent on his face “ Sir, it would be easy to arrest them. Calling this a terrorist attack would give you all the cause in the world to hold them indefinitely. How does the old saying go? ‘Kill the head and the body will die?’ Arrest them now before they escalate and we can crush a rebellion before it starts. Other regimental commanders are doing it, and the President has not reversed their actions.”
“Fisk’s arguments were tempting, almost seductive, but not enough to make Blucher take that leap. “As I said I am a student of history. If you wish to fuel a rebellion, try to blow it out. Like a flame, the more you blow, the more it spreads. If we arrest these people without cause, they’ll only become martyrs in the eyes of the man and woman on the street. We’d be giving powerful reason to oppose us. No, my order stands. And it must be done discreetly. No press, no squads of soldiers breaking down doors. This is simply a friendly invitation to speak with the Sides garrison commanding officer. We will do nothing that will further fuel thoughts of rebellion. Understood?”
Fisk looked dejected. “Yes sir.” He said. “But you did read through the list of names didn’t you Colonel?”
“Yes I did.”
“You know that the sister of the city’s militia commander is on the list of suspects.”
Blucher didn’t like Fisk’s tone, which was almost mocking, but again he let nothing show. “I know lieutenant. You will put her lower on your lists. Lieutenant Colonel Christifori is a well-known public figure in this habitat and I dare say all of Tsia. I want to first advise him of our plan so he wouldn’t think we’ve blind sided him.”
“With his sister out publicly damning the President perhaps he should step down as the militia commander.”
“Use your head, Fisk. Archer Christifori is a man you don’t want standing against you. He is well loved here, a respected businessman, a war hero. Ecol city is like a small town, and Christifori is a big fish in a small pond. Attack that image and you attack everyone who admires and looks up to him.”
“Sorry sir.” Fisk said apparently realizing he overstepped his boundaries. “As your aide, it is my duty to point out options, that is all. I meant no disrespect to you or the militia commander.
“Accepted.” Blucher had no real use for Fisk but he’d hoped that the young officer would come around. If he did not there would be no telling what his allegations and rash decision making would lead. “You will arrange a memorial service with the entire battalion for our killed. Then you will track down the families of those civilians who dies and send them my condolences as well as flowers and governmental death benefits.”
“I understand sir, Where will you be sir?”
“In my quarters” Blucher said as he turned away from the rubble and destruction not looking back. “I have a task to perform that I have grown weary of in my career. I must write the families to them that their sons and daughters will not be coming home.”


+ + +

The mock battle drill ended almost an hour later, and it had been close. In the end the operational observers called the contest a draw. Archer considered it a victory, and was immensely proud of his people, for a Battalion of weekend warriors to hold their own against a professional unit was quite an achievement. Archer stood with his command staff outside the pod that represents his ‘Mech, though their three day long battle had been simulated the effects of combat in ‘Mechs had been real. They suffered in cramped overheated cockpits and suffered though bad rations and warm water, not to mention self contained bathroom facilities. So like any tiered warrior they each had a beer in hand and a half a case remaining at their feet.
For a few minutes, Archer allowed himself to laugh and be a soldier again. After years in the field where he’d often longed to be a civilian again he found himself reveling to be a warrior. There was a magic about camaraderie, the invisible bond between members of a unit who understood each other. As he looked about he saw even a few of the Guard soldiers intermixed with his own, this fight had facilitated a growing respect for the units with each other. He almost didn’t notice the tow officers headed in his direction. Like him they were coolant vests and ballistic skin-suits and were carrying neuro-helmets which was the deceived that made the human like movement of 20-100 ton machines possible. He recognized Colonel Blucher immediately, the other man with a long beakish nose he did not recognize.
“Archer saluted Blucher as he stepped up. “Colonel Blucher, that was a good exercise sir,” He said.
“Blucher returned the salute. “It was at that, Lieutenant Colonel. You gave as good as you took. My toops have been humbled by the performance of you Militia troops.”
It took a lot for a fellow warrior and a superior officer, to concede victory with such grace. Archer smiled and gave his CO a slight nod. He looked over at the stranger and extended his hand. “I don’t believe I’ve had the honor.”
Colonel Blucher smiled somewhat sheepishly. “May I introduce my aide de camp, Lieutenant Luther Fisk.” Fisk did not shake Archers hand but rather gave him a formal bow, a gesture Archer though belong more in a royal court than action in the field.
“My pleasure” Archer replied.
“Actually the pleasure should be mine, sir. You are a well known hero.” There was something hostile in his manner. Archer sensed immediately that the junior officer did not like him. It was his eyes, his gestures, the way he stood.
“Reports of my heroism are greatly exaggerated.” Archer replied.
“You performed well enough today, though, sir. The Colonel and I were reviewing the battle and noticed that you hit us at a range neither of us had anticipated.”
Archer smiled and pointed his thumb to the Penetrator behind him. “The Old girl still has a few surprises in her, Lieutenant Fisk. She’s packing a pair of extended-range large lasers. Lighter weight, better range.”
“Indeed,” Fisk said coolly. “That information was not provided as part of the exercise briefing. It seems your little surprise gave your militia a somewhat undocumented advantage.”
Archer felt his anger rise. He was being told that he’d cheated and by a junior officer. “I’m sorry it was overlooked Lieutenant,” he said stressing the rank. “Somehow the file must have been overlooked by you. You see that ‘Mech was my ride on Seljuk, she’s fought in a dozen action before that as well. There wasn’t much left of it after that final battle though. At the General’s command she was rebuilt with new technology. “
“General Steiner-Davion?” Fisk asked.
“Yes lieutenant, is there a problem?” Archer asked allowing himself to sound indigent.
“Far be it from me to imply you behaved in any way improperly, sir,” fisk hedged, eyeing he half empty case of beer at the militia officers feet. “I simply was not aware of it.” His tone had made no secret that he wasn’t an admirer of Victor Steiner-Davion.
“Of course,” Archer said slowly. “ I would hate to think that you would imply that someone of my background and rank would not obey the rules of the engagement.” He lowered the tone of his voice leaving Fisk little room to squirm away.
Colonel Blucher stepped between them though, Lieutenant it doesn’t matter. IT was an excellent exercise and it showed tht we have a lot to learn from each other. That was the purpose, after all. Besides if I catalogued every ‘Mech on both sides that had some sort of unofficial modification it would take a terabyte of data” He took Archer’s elbow lightly. “Archer why don’t we allow Lieutenant Fisk to get to know your command staff. I have something I’d like to discuss with you- in private.
Archer cocked his eyebrow slightly and nodded. “Captian Chaffee,” he said to his intelligence officer, “Please take Lieutenant Fisk around and introduce him to my the unit.” As Katya stated the introductions he followed blucher some distance away to the shade of a small building outside the sim complex. “Is there a problem, sir?”
No, Lieutenant Colonel, not a real problem. I just wanted you to hear this from me first. You know about the explosion at the restaurant a few days ago, I presume?”
“Yes. It was hard to miss on the news.”
“We’re still unsure if it was sabotage or merely an accident. The truth of the mater is that we may never know. I have begun to gather a list of citizens who have publicly expressed opposition to the President. They are not suspects, but I have begun meeting with them one on one, to discuss our presence here and to attempt to convince them that it is in everyone’s interest for our relationship to be a positive one.”
Archer knew there was more to it than that. “I’ve heard some Sides the local garrison commanders have imprisoned such suspects.”
Blucher shook his head. I doubt that will be necessary here. I don’t rule it out, but I don’t intend to provide those who dislike the government or the President with a reason to make trouble.”
“Is there a reason you are telling me this, sir?” Archer asked.
Blucher gave a short sigh, but it expressed clearly his present discomfort. “Archer your sister wrote another editorial last week calling for the President to resign in favor of Ginske.”
“She was well inside her rights to do so under the law.” Archer said slowly.
“Yes she was. But at the same time her name appeared on my list. I will be meeting with her just as I have with several other citizen who political position runs along similar lines.”
“Why are you telling me this sir?” Archer asked again.
“You are a well known public figure in Ecol City, Archer. And you serve under my command. I wanted you to know before you found out somewhere else. I would prefer to have you understand my motives rather that blindly react to them.”
“Archer gave a long, drawn-out nod. “I appreciate the heads up, sir. You understand, however, that I feel a strong obligation to discuss this with my sister.”
Blucher nodded. “Yes I though you might. As I said before, It’s a simple interview, nothing more nothing less.

In the habitat of Flint, of the independent Side 18 an anti-Colbert protest quickly escalated into a small riot, and the Mercenary company of Colverton’s Lancers were called upon to quell the disturbance. Led by a Pro-Ginske separatist named Drancy MacLaw, the rioters failed to obey orders to disperse, resulting in eighty five arrests and twenty-nine deaths.

-Reported by Word from the Underground pirate broadcast leaked onto Nu-Space, Ticonderoga Ansible. 5 October, 574.

Ecol City, Side Eleven
Tsia, Ticonderoga System
Capital of the Wickian Concordat
09 November, 574

Lieutenant Luther Fisk ordered his driver to stop the vehicle several houses away from the Christifori home. Peering out the window, he was surprised to see it wasn’t the kind of neighborhood where you’d expect a national hero to live. The houses were unpretentious dwellings, uniform and ordinary. Nothing like the majestic building he had grown up in as a guild leaders son, but he supposed much larger then most had available. To what depths had society sunk that people could abide such squalor? He supposed it was natural though some people were just unlucky enough to be born into the wrong class.

He holstered his pistol, as did the two soldiers with him. Dressed for urban warfare the trio looked distinctly our of place in their sleek black vehicle. With their heavy shin and knee pads, blast-vests, visored helmets, and shoulder and elbow pads they were outfitted more for a riot than a routine pickup. Another car was dropping off to more soldiers on the next street over to make sure Andrea Christifori wouldn’t try to escape out the back door.
At this moment Fisk couldn’t help thinking of his own father, Francis Fisk of the Fisk Foundry Inc, and how different he was from Colonel Blucher. The colonel was too soft, where his father had always taught that a leader must never be afraid to use force to maintain order. Fisk didn’t like the colonel. He seemed hesitant to use the power he possessed. Luther Fisk was not.
He knew Blucher had forewarned Christifori that his sister was on the list of subjects. Fisk believed that was a mistake, the colonel had overplayed his had, lost the advantage of surprise. It was true the Christifori girl hadn’t fled, but that didn’t prove her innocence either. Anyone who would dare to speak out against the government, against the President, against the guilds, was a person who could not be trusted. Maybe she hoped to get close enough to the colonel to assassinate him, maybe she had the press waiting for some sort of propaganda ploy. He was not about to let her gain the upper hand of the situation. The key to this type of operation was to always maintain control.
“Just like we did with Newburgh yesterday.” He said to the two troopers “Our mission is to escort Andrea Christifori to the fort for a meeting. She is suspected of subversive activity, but out orders are simply to bring her to the Colonel for a discussion. Understood?”
The two big infantrymen nodded. Fisk opened the door and climbed out flanked almost instantly by his two troopers. They moved up the drive way to the front door of the house, where all three unbuttoned their gun holsters. Fisk rang the doorbell and heard the faintest sound of their bell tones from the inside. The door opened halfway and a female figure peered out at them. She looked to like a younger, smaller version of her brother, and appeared to be in top physical shape, quite attractive but she’d just be one of dozens of women Fisk could have, and common compared to more well born. At the sight of the infantrymen her face flushed. Fisk guess it was from anger rather than embarrassment.
“Good Morning” He began “I am Lieutenant Fisk of the fifteenth Arcturian Guards. I trust that you are Andrea Christifori?”
She nodded and opened the door a bit more. Her dark brown skirt fluttered in the light morning breeze. “I was told you’d be coming.” She said a bit resentfully.
“Colonel Blucher has asked that you accompany us back to the fort. He would like to discuss with you the anti-government editorial you have written.”
“Are you so afraid of my words that you brought armed soldiers?”
Fisk stiffened at the jibe. “You must understand, miss. Some people we are sent to escort are likely not to be as cooperative as yourself. Besides these troopers like myself are here for the protection of Tsia.
She cocked an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “I was unaware that we had asked for protection, Lieutenant. Or better yet, perhaps your simply protecting us from our rights as free citizens?”
“We can prattle here all day if you wish Miss Christifori, the Colonel is waiting however.”
“Well, come in if you wish while I get my things.” She opened the door all the way and turned to walk down the long interior hall. Fisk followed her across the carpeted floor, his consorts shadowing him. In the dining room she walked over to a credenza then turned to Fisk, “It must be terribly rough on you, Lieutenant Fisk.”
“What’s that Ma’am?”
“Supporting a leader like the President and working to keep someone of his ilk in power. Pulling these police-state tactics of dragging people in for interrogations, it must be hard for you to sleep at night.”
Fisk’s eyes narrowed she’d pay for her arrogance if not today then sometime soon. “I assure you I sleep soundly at night. This is not an interrogation, but a simple conversation with the colonel. Have you forgotten that the President is our rightful ruler? My support of him is total and all the justification I require. Now then if we can get going…”
She turned back to the Credenza and opened a drawer. “There’s something here I want to bring to your Colonel,” She said reaching inside the drawer.
Fisk caught a flash of silver, the shape of a knife in her hands along with some papers. There was no time to stop, to think, to process the image. There was only time to react! Luther Fisk drew his pulser and leveled it at her from the side as she began to turn. Yes! That was definitely a knife. The other two soldier had drawn their weapons as well as they saw their commanding officer’s actions.
Fisk didn’t remember pulling the trigger, but the next ting he knew there was an explosion and blood spraying outward. Andrea Christifori was thrown back at first, then the second bullet entered her body. She reeled as if in slow motion, into the credenza, then twisted down to the floor. Her lips moved wordlessly as she died, the infantry men moved forward their weapons covering her as she slumped to the floor. It was unnecessary Fisk was sure she was dead.
He couldn’t hear them demanding why he shot, wondering where her weapon was. He didn’t even hear the second unit break down the back door as they scrambled into the house. Numbly he took a step forward and stood looking down on her crumpled form.
In her hands were folded-up news sheets of her published editorials. Lying near her was a silver letter opener, not a knife. His mouth gaped open as he saw what it was. She must have accidentally picked it up with her bundle of papers. Fisk dropped to one knee and stared into the lifeless eyes of his victim. That godamn bitch, how could she do this to him, and his ears were still ringing from the gunshots that killed her. There was something around her neck half hidden by the way her hair fell forward. Lifting away her bloodied hair, he saw the star-shaped order of Vigilance around hr neck, splattered with blood. He knew what it was and who it belonged to in a sudden burst of clarity.
Fisk also knew he was in trouble. Even his father might not be able to protect him. This whole thing had been a mistake, but no one would believe him, not even Blucher. Worse there would be those in Ecol City, who might use this incident against the garrison and the government. Would they martyr her, all because of him. He looked stating at the Order of Vigilance as he wondered what to do next, what to say.
“I thought she had a weapon.” He said pointing to the harmless letter opener. “She as so damn belligerent. You saw it didn’t you?” he asked looking up at the two infantrymen. One of them nodded. “I saw the blade sir.” He said moving the fallen letter opener closer to the body. He didn’t even call it a weapon.
Yes that was it. Fisk found the dark idea in some back corner of his mind. “She was one of them, a leader of the resistance against the President. She must have thought she could attack me or use that on the Colonel.” He reached for the papers, and threw them across the room in a fit or rage.
“You’ve done well, men.” He stood and ran his hand nervously though his hair. “The first shot to defend this habitat against the terrorist rebellion was fired here today.”
His confidence grew with his own words. He locked eyes with his two men and saw that they understood what he’d left unspoken. He just hoed their stories would mesh with the tale he had just handed them.

Christifori Express, Corporate Headquarters
Ecol City, Side Eleven
Tsia, Ticonderoga System
Capital of the Wickian Concordat
09 November, 574

“Catherine,” Archer called through the open door of his office to his administrative assistant.
“Yes sir,” she responded politely, coming to the doorway. Catherine Daniels had been an employee at Christifori Express since his father’s time. She was old enough to be a grandmother in years., but looked much younger.
“I want you to send a Nu-Space message to AC, to the attention of Captain Fullerton. Inform him that as soon as he makes the necessary transfers, he is to proceed to Yalta to pick up additional cargo. There is a current manifest in my system folder. Attach it to the message as well.
She noted his request on her handheld noteputer, then looked up and smiled “right away Mr. Christifori,” she said, going back to her desk and closing the door behind her.
Archer had returned to reviewing the frim’s current invoices when he heard her muffled voice on the other side of the door talking to someone. Something in her tone caught his attention, a note of urgency. He wheeled his chair oback and had just started to rise when she knocked and cracked open the door.
“Mr. Christifori,” she said, “theres someone to see you, sir, and he says it’s urgent.” Not waiting for his permission , she opened the door and soldier dressed in the formal uniform of the AFC entered the room and gave him a quick salute, unnecessary since he was in civilian garb. He returned it almost numbly as a premonition took hold of him. Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong.
“Lieutenant Colonel Chirsitfori?” The soldier asked crisply.
“Yes, Seregent-Major,” Archer replied rising to his full stature at the mention of his rank.
“Sir there’s been an accident. Colonel Blucher sent me to inform you.”
A chill ran down Archer’s spine. “An Accident?”
“Our men went to escort your sister to the Colonel for a routine meeting when apparently shots broke out. I’m afraid sir, that your sister has been killed.”
Archer heard the words but they barely regisitered. In his years of military life, he’d seen dozens of friends and comrades, allies and enemies die all around him. And her had killed many himself, but he had thought that was all behind him, or so he thought until now.
Andrea…dead. That couldn’t happen. It wasn’t possible How could she be dead? He’d been away when their parents died, and he swore to protect her when he returned home. And he was here, so close to home, and yet unable to do, anything. Damn it he should have been able to protect her! His knees shook slightly, and he felt an involuntary tear roll down his cheek as his grief surface just before his rage. He helt his hands tighten into fists shakking at his hips, he felt the blood rush to his head. He heard his heart pump rapidly in his head each beat fueling his rage and confusion into a white hot flame in his mind. Andrea dead…murdered ?
“How?” He said in a low tone rimmed with anger through his clenched teeth. “Where?”
“I was told it that it was at your home sir. That’s all I know The Colonel asked me to escort you to Central Hospital, where she was taken. He will meet you there.”
Archer closed his eyes for almost a minute as he tried to bury his anger, but failed. Killed in their own home? Why? How? Though his blood nearly boiled he managed to stifle it for the moment. It was not the soldiers fault he was only carrying out his orders. He would save his ire for the others, for whoever had harmed the only family he had left. “Very well, Sergeant-Major let’s go.”


They had taken him to the morgue to identify the body, which took only moments. Her face looked so serene, so peaceful, despite the fact that she’d been gunned down. They had asked if he wanted any of her personal possessions, he had only taken one. Now he felt it balled in his fist, could feel the metal digging into the calluses of his hand. It felt cool to the touch, as it had when the General gave it too him. He’d given it to Andrea as a sign that he would always protect her, but in the end when the time came, it didn’t save her life.
He heard the approaching footsteps, the only sound in the deserted empty hallway. It was Colonel Blucher looking concerned. He came up and put a hand on Archer’s shoulder as if to comfort him. Archer looked at Blucher’s hand then to his eyes. Again the fires of rage began to burn in his brain,
“Archer,” Blucher began, “I cannot tell you how sorry I am. This is a tragedy.” Archer at that moment wanted to lash out at the man responsible for this. He wanted in that single moment to kill Blucher with his bare hands. He would have to if not for the memory of his sister’s calm and peace face which held his anger in check. There had been enough killing today. Blucher seemed to detect that moment of decision in Archer, and to his credit he simply looked him into the eyes, knowing it was his orders that facilitated this tragedy however indirectly.
“Tell me what happened” Archer demanded.
“My provost officer is still taking statement and is just finishing at the scene. According to Lieutenant Fisk, the officer in charge, your sister granted my men access to the house and said she had to get something she wished to bring with her to the fort. Fisk and the others saw her draw a knife and they reacted to protect themselves.”
“WHAT! A knife! Don’t tell me that you believe this? How many soldiers did you send on this duty?” The thought that Luther Fisk was responsible twisted Archer’s stomach even tighter. He’d disliked the puke every since they’d met. Now his sister’s blood was on his hands.
“Four total, not counting Fisk.” Blucher replied.
“Sir, you’ve been around long enough to know how that sounds. Do you honestly think that my sister drew a knife on five men with guns?”
Blucher shook his head firmly. “I am telling you their initial statements, Archer. That is why I have my Provost looking investigating.”
“I told her you would be sending for her. It wasn’t any surprise. If she were violent as you say, I have plenty of weapons in the house she could have used. This doesn’t add up and you know it.”
“You have my assurances that a thorough investigation is to be conducted. Archer I promise you we will get to the bottom of this. I want the truth to come out as much as you.”
Archer heard the words but he knew that the truth the military often espoused was not the whole truth. “Sir, I want the full truth, the real truth. I want the men or women responsible for this to be brought to justice. If that is you, then consider this a threat. If not, consider this a warning to those who did this.”
“I realize that this must be hard on you,” Blucher said ignoring the threat.
“No, sir, with all due respect, I don’t think you have any idea what this is like for me. Andrea was all I had in the world. She was my only family. I trusted you and now she is dead at the hands of your troops. She was all I had left, and now that’s been taken from me, too. Only this remains,” Archer said opening his clenched first revealing the star of vigilance. Its edges had drawn blood from his palm, Archer placed it in his pocket.
“I will get to the bottom of this.,” Blucher said “You have my word as an officer and a gentleman.”
“Is there anything else Colonel?” Archer asked coldly.
“If there is anything you need, contact me.
Archer’s eyes narrowed. “Yes there is something. I want the head of the man who did this.” He could not even bring himself to say Fisk’s name. Blucher bowed his head slightly as Archer turned and walked swiftly to the doors leading to the main hall. He found them hard to open due to all the weight of bodies blocking the entry so he forced them.
Voices swam around him, calling his name, tugging his shirt. One was louder then the others, a young woman with a head worn holovidcam, she blocked his path. “Lieutenant Colonel Christifori, I’m Katie Winson from Newsweek. We understand that your sister was killed today by AFC troops. As a former member of the AFC and an understanding citizen of Ecol City, I’m wondering if you can tell us how you feel about all this?”
Archer found a vent for his rage. She never saw his fist coming, but he was sure it’d make for a good rating. He felt her nose break under the impact of his punch, and when she flew back she carved a veritable path through the mob of reporters.
He stepped over her prone form, “That is how I feel,” he said.

Ecol City, Side Eleven
Tsia, Ticonderoga System
Capital of the Wickian Concordat
12 November, 574

Like Felix Blucher himself, his officer in the newly constructed fort was Spartan except for a dew antique paintings which he took with him from command to command. They were in large part portrayals of eighteenth century battlefields of old earth, he kept them because of the expression on the men’s faces that harkened to a time when battles where won through bravery and honor, not anymore.
There was a crisp knock at his door, and Blucher straighter his service tunic. That could only be Fisk, answering his summons. The provost had finished his investigation and Blucher had reviewed the data gathered and formed his final conclusions as to how Andrea Christifori was murdered. Fisk entered his office, his posture rigid in the highest tradition of the Wickian military service. “Reporting as ordered, sir.” Blucher was unimpressed.
“Yes Lieutenant. We have some matters to discuss.” Fisk stared at the colonel a moment, for the first time he looked worried as he noticed the master-of-arms standing behind Blucher. Blucher considered the folder in front of him for only a moment,
“Tell me Fisk, did you really think you could get away with it?”
: “Sir?” Fisk stammered.
“Do not insult me by pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about. I’ve spoken with the others present at the shooting. You should be proud of them. For the most part they held to the story you fed them. One of them finally told the truth-you panicked.”
“I reacted as I’ve been trained to sir. I saw a weapon and sought to protect myself,” Fisk countered, but his tightening facial expression gave his lie away.
“A lone female civilian, three armed men in the room, two outside, in full riot gear, and she knew you were coming. And you expect me to believe she was insane enough to pull a knife?” Blucher’s voice rose in pitch as he spoke. He was furious, “Your lack of judgment is appalling Lieutenant.”
“I did what I thought was right.”
“Your attempt to cover this up was-pathetic.” Blucher continued, “ I’d say unbecoming an officer, but right now at this moment I am ashamed to be in the same service as yourself much less the same unit. Just what were you thinking? Trying to protect your precious family name?”
“What you call a ‘cover-up’ was done for your benefit.” Fisk said.
“And what do you mean by that?”
“We both know that there is a rebel element here in Tsia, which is why we were station in Ecol city. I compiled a list of suspected leaders under your orders, and we could have rounded them up and detained them after the terrorist attack on our troops at the bar. This time we got something even better; the death of one of their ringleaders. It sends a clear message to those who think to rise up against the government. The price of resistance is death, and the only way to suppress open rebellion is with an iron fist.”
His last words echoed the sentiments recently expressed by the President in a message aimed at keeping his military forced unified and focused under his leadership.
Blucher stared at Fisk for a moment then he almost laughed at the sad, stupidity of the man before him. “You are such a fool, Luther. You spew rhetoric like a trained monkey and haven’t a clue what you’re really doing. Yes, some rebellions can be suppressed in the manner you describe. But in this case it will only work against you.”
“The President-
“The President” Blucher cut it, “Is a man who is craven Guild Lord at heart, he has not had to live amount the people he rules. Lived with them and fought to preserve their freedoms-the very freedoms piss ant guilder whelps like you are attempting to smother. His actions are those of desperation, not true leadership.”
“You’re speaking treason!” Fisk accused his commander angrily.
“No,” Blucher replied coolly, “I am being pragmatic. You’ve given these people a reason to fight against us. You’ve killed a well-known figure who was also a woman and defenseless. A woman whose brother is a celebrity to the people of this Side. You’ve handed those who might rise against us a purpose, a reason, a cause.”
“Sir, with a properly worded press release, the loyal citizens could be easily turned against Christifori. If you do nothing, he will remain a threat to the integrity of your command.” The concern in his voice was genuine.
“You’re the only one who see Archer Christifori as an enemy of the state. All you’ve done is earn yourself a dangerous enemy.”
“And you, sir, keep speaking with such reverence of our dear lieutenant colonel Christifori. Did it ever occur to you that he may be one of those working against the President?”
“I would rule nothing out.”
“If you move now, you can eliminate him as a potential threat.”
“No Mr. Fisk. If I were to do as you say I would become part of the problem, and I refuse to do that.”
“Have you no loyalty to the President!”
Blucher was on his feet in an instant, and he pounded the desk with such force that it seemed to shake the room. “Never question my loyalty! You were my aide, but that does not grant you any special rights, especially now. I am totally loyal to the President and our state.” It was hard to believe the boy’s arrogance. Felix Blucher had been in a cockpit or aboard ship fighting and killing for the Wickian state since before he had been born. If not for his father’s influence in the new administration the boy would not have risen to his current rank or position. How dare someone like him question his loyalty? There was a time when such officers would have been drummed out of the service, now they were promoted. In the long silence that followed Blucher stared directly into Fisk’s eyes, which caused the man to look away. The line had been drawn between them, invisible yet real. Fisk stood at attention, and Blucher could see beads of sweat forming on his brow, his discomfort pleased him.
“If I may ask Colonel, what are your intentions?”
“For you? That is simple. You are under arrest and will stand for court-marshal as soon as possible. After you will be summarily executed by hanging for your crimes against the civilian population her in Ecol City.” The Colonel said mater-of-factly.
The blood drained from Fisk’s face at the Colonel’s words turning it a pale white. “You can’t be serious, sir.”
“Did I stutter, Lieutenant?” Blucher continued without waiting for an answer, “I do not doubt that you will contact your father. I am sure he will call in some political markers to save your worthless dishonorable hid. But he is quite far away and you will find that justice under my command, is quite swift.”
Fisk’s voice was bitter. “ I wonder whose side you are on. . .sir.”
“I was unaware that there were sides,” Blucher returned curtly.”
“What are you going to do about the rebel activity? What of Lieutenant Colonel Christifori?” Fisk asked his voice tinged with fear, as the Provost martial place cuffs around his wrists and began to lead him out of the his office. “Don’t worry about Christifori,” Blucher said sarcastically. “I promise not to let him get his hands around your throat.

+ + +

Archer sat in the family room of his now empty house, almost as if the early evening darkness and shadows were old friends come to visit. It had been a long day with much to be done. He’d made arrangements for the funeral, but barely remembered doing so. There had been several visitors to the house, all expressing sorrow at his loss. Catherine Davis had come with dinner, then burst into tears before he could invite her in. He did remember eating, possibly for the first time all day., but that was all.
Captain Katya Chaffee had also come with condolences from the other members of the militia and something else he surely need- conversation that took his mind off of loss or grief. She talked instead of what was going on with the unit, its mundane doings and activities of the day. For a brief moment he had been able to forget. But with Katya’s departure, Archer was sitting along again, in the dark, trying to call up memories of better times.
When he heard a knock at the door, he wasn’t sure whether he imagined the sound or if it was real. He got up and walked as slowly as an old man to the front foyer, which Andrea had always referred to humorously as “the Reception Area” or “the Lobby”. He turned on the external light and opened the door, squinting in the sudden brightness.
Colonel Blucher stood in the doorway, his long coat unbuttoned, his leather dress gloves in one hand. Archer merely nodded. He wasn’t on duty and he didn’t particularly feel like saluting the man whose officer had killed his sister.
“Colonel Blucher.” He said flatly.
“I hope I didn’t disturb you.”
“Archer shook his head. “No colonel I was just attending to some business.”
“I wanted you to know before you heard it from the media, that I have formally charged Lieutenant Fisk in the death of your sister. He will appear before a court-martial in five days.”
Archers facial expression did not change. “Someone must pay for this crime.”
“He will Archer. I have gathered ample evidence. The matter will be resolved quickly.”
“Very well, Colonel. Is that all?” Blucher nodded and without speaking anything Archer shut the door and turned the light off and retreated back into the darkness.

+ + +

Archer thanked his many years of military life which gave him the stiff spin to keep himself so straight when he felt so weak.

“We come today to pay our last respects to Andrea Christifori,” he said. “We knew her as a friend, employer, comrade, and beloved sister. She spent her life trying to help better the lives of others whether it was in running our family business or her work in the community.”

He let his gaze travel over the gathering, acknowledging them all. :My sister died before her time. It was a wasteful death, one that didn’t have to happen. In the last weeks of her life, she spent much time writing, hoping her words would warn the rest of us that our freedoms come at a price. Her death reminds us that human beings can be corrupted by two things; power and fear. She understood this, and hoped to persuade the rest uof us that we must stand up against those who abuse their power, regardless of petty mortal titles or positions.

“Let us never forget her,” He said choking back his words slightly, “and let us never forget the message she tried to give us.”

As the crowd drifted away after a few minutes Katya Chaffee approached. She seemed different, almost odd, then Archer realized that he’d always seen her in uniform. Today, dressed in black civilian clothing, she seemed more human, more female than he’d noticed before. She reached out and touched his arm “Sir is there anything I can do for you?”
“No, Ill be alright. And we’re not in uniform, Katya, its Archer.”
She nodded. “Your sister was loved by a lot of people.”
He watched the other mourners as they moved away. “Yes she had many friends.”
“A lot of us in the unit, as well as friends of mine, have been reading her editorials. They were brilliant. She understood so well what’s been happening here and throughout the Concordat.
Archer rubbed his brow slightly. “Her beliefs are what got her killed.”
“That’s what makes them all the more important. Andrea wouldn’t want her ideas to end here. If we’re going to honor her, we should honor the words she was trying to say to us.”
Archer nodded “ I found a piece she hadn’t finished yet. They killed he before the final words could be written.”
“I only met her once, Archer, when she came to visit you at the post. But I’ve been reading her editorials, and I think her last words should be heard-and even acted on.

Archer turned around finally for the first time able to look at Andrea’s coffin as it was being prepped for its launch into the void of space. Now it’s up to me isn’t it? He asked her silently. He placed his hand on the cold surface of the observatories port. Rest in peace Andrea, your work was left unfinished but I will see it done. Then he turned to Katya and led her away thinking about many things Andrea had said and what his next course of action would be.

Between the ageless windswept stones, atop the rocky lone plateau
Light dances from the fire’s glow and in the midst of trite shadows.
The deep night sky, shown bright in stars, in the desert wilderness’s heart
Lays outstretched, above the plain where man and beasts will roam.

Eastward, in the city of Trinidan the vendors file out into the street as the last of the drunks and streetfolk begin to file in. The stands and stages fill the streets and circles and squares, the strange silence of the morning gradually broken with every shout and crash and rolling cart.

On the plateau still the fire lit, and in its light the clansmen sit
All dressed in leathers, woolen, fit to stand the sands that can’t remit.
In the dancing light their pale face shows, a sorrowful paint on every brow
The gray and gray of ash spread over every face’s grit.

As day breaks the streets are revealed, banners flown from every window. Along the road sit the vendors, dealing tourist’s trinkets and memorabilia. Partnered with them now are the street performers, all vying for tips with their tricks. “We Welcome the Rain!” the banners read in every color. The vendors all carry cheap umbrellas in every color, too.

Around the flame begin to move the women, dressed in leathers, too,
Their mournful masks spread on so thick their faces shan’t show through.
In a tongue unknown to civil man, are heard the quiet shouts and chants—
So low as they cannot be heard above the fire’s fuel.

As noon approaches the city’s market square fills with crowds before a grand stage, seated all the old men of government and business. In the middle is a lone podium. A hush rushes over the crowd as a secretarian woman approaches the podium with a dignified smile to give the crowd what they demand. Some words are spoken with little attention from the crowd until these: “And now, it’s my pleasure to present to you, the Protector of the free worlds, The Prime Guardian of the Homeland, Darius of the Setting Star!”

The sounds and movement slowly rise, the rhythm of an unknown tide
Begins to sweep these fire’s brides, their whisper rising as to chide
The flames and men and rocks and wind for every crime they did commit,
As though to curse and banish every star left in the sky.

Silence befalls the crowd once more as their man, their leader takes his place behind the wooden monolith. He scans the crowd for a moment before beginning. “Homelanders!” A frenzy comes over the crowd, pride had its home in the people of the Liberation. “Citizens!” More frenzy. “Our brothers from abroad!” The usual greeting, (“Our Verniian Brothers!”) had been changed to welcome both Verniians and the Valinor, as well as anyone else who may have earned the congress’s favor. The crowd begins to calm. “this day marks my first Rain Festival as the Guardian of the Homeland and the free worlds. Well,” his boyish smile shines through what was a formal demeanor, “it will so long as we can trust the weatherman.” The crowd gives a knowing laugh.

The writhing choir seethes and moans, the harshness of their scolding tones
Begins to eb back to the drone where echoes off the rocks postponed
The sound and filled the inverse pit with sounds no woman’s throat omits.
And one by one the choir hones itself to one alone.

“It’s been a long, long time since the last rain. Eighteen years, two months, and three days, give or take a few hours, for anyone who’s counting. In those eighteen years, our nation, our state has seen troubled times. There were some that doubted the Liberation might even survive! But we have survived. Liberty has survived. Freedom has survived. Self determination has survived!” More frenzy rises in the crowd, just as he planned. “And now we welcome this new era, this new period in our history, this new chance to wash away the stains of a troubled past. So, with no further ado…” Darius looks up to the clear blue sky and holds up one arm gently, “I humbly implore the sky to allow us a few drops of rain.”

Applause rises from the mass as Darius bows his head, honoring the crowd before his retreat behind the stage.

The single singer stands in place and moves her hand up to her face
Her rugged nails all caked with clay dig in the ash as though to scrape
Away the pain of years gone passed and fingers cannot move so fast
To purge all sorrow from her race and every wound erase.

Behind the stage, Darius moves to his car where Talia waits. “It went well, I assume?”

“As expected. It was only a few words, but I was distracted. This whole Ticonderoga situation is a disaster,” Darius replies, taking off his white jacket and placing it at his side.

“Oh, don’t tell me this Colbert fellow has you all bothered.”

“Yes, he does. Ginske may be a shrew, but he’s my shrew.”

“Well what are you going to do about it?”

“There will be talks, I’ll call him when we get home.”

“And if those don’t work?”

Darius looked out the window at the passing buildings and banners, focused and unsatisfied. “Then I may just have to do some housecleaning in Ticonderoga.”

The singer sow, free from the seal, looks skyward, now, her face revealed,
Releasing tears she cannot yield then falls upon the stony field.
The men, they rise, and take her now, the rain, it falls upon the sow.
Just as the men with stones they wield, with woman’s blood their nation healed.

--The Native Raindance, Anonymous
_________________________________________________________________

Trinidan, The Lower Governor’s Palace and Provisional Guardian’s Palace

The great hall in the palace is busied two-fold, with the daily affairs of state and then the organization of the once-in-a-few-decades festival. Polybus, Darius’s new personal assistant, approaches him as he enters.

“Polybus,” he says with an exhausted sigh, “I see you and know that my day is never finished.”

“Good day, Mr. Gaurdian, Talia, here is today’s agenda.”

Darius takes the form and scans it. “Appearance, Audience, Appearance, Audience… ah, the Rain Day Ball. Calimar and Colbert are coming, yes?”

“They both plan to attend.”

“Wonderful,” he declared, less excited and more pleased. “Now, if you can excuse me I have a…” he looks at his agenda “two o’clock meeting with the Karl Sondhaus.”

“Aww,” Talia exclaims in the cutest, most helpless voice she can muster, trying to catch Darius as he walks away. “Can’t you put it off? Federalists always get you so cranky.”

“I’m sorry, but someone has to clean the toilets, too!”

Moments later in the courtyard…

Darius enters the courtyard and sees Sondhaus standing with his own secretaries and aids. “Representative Sondhaus, hello.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Guardian. I was beginning to think this… festival was keeping you from affairs of State.”

Sondhaus had started early with the condescension. This wouldn’t be pleasant. “So you have an important affair for me?”

“Yes, it is. It’s about your continued open support of the Ginske government in Ticonderoga in the wake of Colbert’s election.”

“I speak regularly with Ginske because we developed a personal relationship during the war, this is hardly open support, and Colbert is coming to the Ball tonight.”

“Well, there’s a bill in the works. The Federal Progressives are pushing it through, a bill to send funds and other aid to the Colbert government to help in his struggle to maintain order in the system. If you really support Colbert then we can expect your votes?”

Darius simply stared at the congressman. “Order. Right.” Darius turned on his heals and began to head inside. “It’s far too humid outside for fiction, Mr. Sondhaus. I suggest you head home before the rain starts and think about a long time about majorities and veto over-ride. Good day!” Above the clouds have begun to roll in from the West. It would not rain until the evening, but they came.

Three more meetings, he thought to himself. It’s a long time until nine.

Nine o’clock that evening, Darius’s private bedroom…

“Damned Catholics!” Darius shouts from the bathroom, Talia hearing his complaint in the master bedroom. “Damn them!”

Talia spoke outloud, still touching up her make-up in the mirror. “I told you, Dar. The Feds always get you riled up.”

“And you were right! Every one of those corporation-cock-sucking, white-boy, Catholic fucks is determined to undermine every damn thing I’m trying to accomplish.” He steps out of the bathroom in his pastel yellow suit, the height of Homeland fashion, of course. “How do I look?”

She glanced for a moment before returning to her eyeliner. “Every girl in the room will be trying to steal you.”

“I know, but how do I look?”

“Dashing.”

“Good, let’s go.”

The pounding bass and electro-music can be heard as they approach the convention hall, releasing it’s full power as the doors open to allow the couple in. Talia raises her arms and begins to dance as they move into the crowd. The ball was lavish. Every servant in the Provisional Guardian’s Palace was in full formal attire, as was every guest. The men wore the expected military uniforms--white and black and tan dotted the dance floors and tables bordering them—and tuxedos of every color, while the women came clad in every designer dress, whether it be large and modest or small and skimpy. Every decadent food imaginable was available in the buffet, in the menu, or on the platters carried around be servants.

Infectious music flowed over the crowd. Years of product testing had led to an electronic pulse that got near anyone up on their feet and dancing, and in the Palace that was no exception. Party lights stood out amongst the otherwise dim lighting, pink and green and blue flowing over the room in all directions, from the incredibly high ceilings to the crowd on the floor.

All around the ball room were barely covered dancing girls, a staple to any Homelander ball and a testament to the rampant chauvinism of the Homeland. They could be seen gyrating up against nearly anyone who’d pass them by and, on occasion, slipping off to some corner with some lonely politician. There were no cameras, and even if the public knew there would never be a scandal for something so common. This party had as much to do with the Rain, which was sure start falling any minute, as it did anything.

Now, Darius scans the crowd, where are Colbert and Calimar?

[OOC: I didn't like my description of the Ball, so I stole one from an older post. Hope you enjoy!]

President of the Concordat Stephen Colbert normally enjoyed celebrations. God knows that he had attended many throughout his life. That was in most part thanks to his privileged status in Wickians society that he had the luxury to enjoy celebrations. It wasn’t that he was completely selfish and hedonistic but such celebrations were a powerful political tool, he could buy peoples loyalty with gives of food and pleasure, this though was different. This was a debauchery that was unbecoming of a person of his social class. This was like a rave held by the youth or peasants on some poor excuse for a side. And so he sat at a table awaiting either Calimar of Darius’ appearance. Four Wickian marines not armed with anything larger then a pulser formed a protect circle in front of his table keeping the LNH scum at bay.

Colbert sipped slightly from a glass of seltzer, the loud music pounded against his head, there was not melody, now sympathy it was simply noise. He rubbed his temple hoping to relive the throbbing. It wasn’t working.

“This is barbaric, I thought it was going to be a celebration for the rains, a ceremony of hope, instead this seems to be just like some youth rave. Blake’s blood, was this worth dragging us all the way from Ticonderoga?” He moaned.

“I’m not so sure, sir. I see some interesting people out there.” Came a soft reply from the young woman sitting to his side. While the president was dressed in traditional heavy garb and a long cape she was dressed more radically where almost as little as some of the LNH women, the athletic sculpt of her body apparent to anyone who saw her.

“You would, I suppose at your age this is just your kind of place. Well keep in mind whom you serve and to whose service you are pledged.” He told her, his bodyguard, recently retired from the AFC’s special forces. Like many of the Navy or Army’s officers she was bought with bribes as simple as food, medicine, and a secure place for one’s family to live. Why some people persisted with stratifying their society he could not fathom, if only all the Navy/Indy dissidents would see things the way she had their wouldn’t be any problems at all.

“Ah look now, he comes one of our friends "Colbert said as he watched the figure approach.

Emperor Alexis Calimar had been expecting the unconventional manner in which Liberation parties conducted themselves (after all, he'd read the diplomatic reports), but no amount of mere knowledge could make up for his lack of experience. Stepping through the entrance into the room left him momentarily stunned by a full assault on the senses. The lights, the fashion, the music....and again, the fashion.

Calimar was fashionably dressed, by Verniian standards. His clothing resembled the uniform of an officer in the Imperial Navy, but with a slightly relaxed cut to it, and bright white and in contrast to the Navy's black. Decoration was sparse, consisting merely of simple epaulets and a gold aiguilette hanging from his right shoulder. He wore no rank insignia except for a badge on the front of each side of his jacket collar, consisting of a purple and gold crown, denoting his military and government rank.

Following behind His Majesty were two Guardsmen, various retainers, and the Imperial Ambassador to the Liberation, Sir Barnett. Calimar turned and waved to his retainers and the ambassador to go enjoy themselves, lifted a goblet of wine from a tray offered by a waiter, and wandered through the party (with his guards maintaining a discrete but protective distance) to find Darius.

A man in off-white garb files through the mass of writhing bodies, his half cape denoting his place in the Liberation Guard, reaching Darius and shouting a few words into his ear. He points across the room, directing the Guardian to his Verniian Counterpart. Next he shows Darius Colbert’s place at the table. First Darius moves to Calimar.

“Alexis! Alexis!” he calls to catch the Emperor’s attention. “Emperor, hello! Have you come to True Hope to let the Rain wash away your past? Well, I hope you enjoy yourself. I see you’ve already gotten into the alcohol,” he comments, suddenly being distracted by a passing girl clad in little more than what looks sprayed on. “And I’d be surprised if you haven’t gotten into anything else…”

Suddenly remembering himself and his company, Darius begins to direct the Emperor over to the tables. “So, hows the Empress? I haven’t seen her since that last dinner in Gregor.” He makes a bit more small talk before finally getting to his point.

“Well, Alexis, I must admit. My invitation, as you might have expected, was not simply for recreation.” He pauses for a moment to snatch a shot of absinth from a passing waitress and toss it back. “Over at the tables, over there,” he gestured, “It’s Colbert, come all the way from Ticon. You wouldn’t mind meeting him?”

They move to his table, Darius giving a welcoming gesture.

"A party without wine is a party not worth having. Unfortunately I will be unable to partake in all the entertainment, though less due to age and more because I'm married after all," the Emperor smirked, "Katrina is doing well, she had more important things to do than accompany me on a simple trip and remind me not to watch other women, haha."

Colbert noticed the two men approach, both leaders of his nation's two closet allies. Truth be told he did not care for neither man personally. Darius was a jackass who thought he was still a teenager, and thought the world had easy solutions. Calimar was a pampered fool who inherited his wealth and position adding to his distaste was that prigs insistence on wearing a Navy uniform. His own dislike of the heavy handed Navy of the Concordat was no secret, but that is not why he really disliked the man before him, its more that Calimar wouldn't know an alpha node from a beta. He himself was leader of the Guilds but like every other Guild leader, he had been an original proprietor of Ticonderoga Colony, and earn his money, the hard way ship ore in small tramp freighters back and forth from colony to home world.

Of course none of this could be known, he kept it secret not even the barest hint ever reaching his face. Without the relief aid sent by his allies both the Guild and Navy sides would be starving, as it was the old Navy sides had been hungry enough. His advisors said it would only be six more months before the guild sides would be self-sufficient again, at that time aid could be redistributed and their problems would be over.

As they stood at the end of the table Colbert had his first chance to observe them up close. He was amazed at how young they were, at least how young they appear. He himself was 180 T-years of age, his skin wrinkled in places and crow’s feet appeared at the corner of his eyes, he looked to be 65-70 years old to someone without anti-aging medicines. As it was Wickians for all their strength, eyesight, regeneration, flexibility, and agility, did not live to be older then 200 even with the best anti-aging technology, they were simple a flame which burn twice as bright, twice as fast.

"Good Evening friends," Colbert said pulling out a small cube from his coat pocket, he punched a few button and laid it on the table before them. Seconds later a white opaque shield emitted itself from the small device encompassing their party. Just as fast as it had appeared one would have noticed the absence of sound. "I hope you do not mind, but I was developing a head-ache and these sonic-barriers are quite convenient. I was too old to accept N-plants and I afraid this is my only relief from that noise." Besides Colbert didn’t want anyone overhearing what they were likely to discuss.

Darius was amazed as he looked around and no longer felt the beat of the sub-woofers upon his ears. “Ha! A wonderful gadget, Colbert. I apologize for the ways of my people. We like to… party hard,” he said in a joking tone. “To be honest I had planned to take us out to the courtyard to escape the music, but since the rain is about to begin this is quite convenient. As you can see, I brought the good Emperor Alexis along with me,” he said, shaking Colbert’s hand and gesturing that the three of them take their seats.

“I’m so glad that the two of you could come. It’s a rare occasion that the leaders of the Eastern Reich can come together, and I think it fitting that we’re here only moments away from my Homeland’s greatest symbol of the washing away of old memories.”

"Ah good point ther Mr. Protector." Colbert said, the president worked cube's small touch screen display for a few moments, when the opaque white was replaced by a scenic courtyard, and the sound of a slight rainfall could be heard, just audible. "I do hope this suits your tastes friend."

"Now may I ask for what reason you've call us here, I hate being away from Ticonderoga for prolonged periods of time at the moment, I think you both can understand why."

"Ah good point ther Mr. Protector." Colbert said, the president worked cube's small touch screen display for a few moments, when the opaque white was replaced by a scenic courtyard, and the sound of a slight rainfall could be heard, just audible. "I do hope this suits your tastes friend."

"Now may I ask for what reason you've call us here, I hate being away from Ticonderoga for prolonged periods of time at the moment, I think you both can understand why."

Astounded once more, Darius smiles in delight at his new surroundings. He begins to speak when suddenly a waitress invades their space, walking through the field’s wall and suddenly becoming astounded. She nearly drops her tray of drinks before Darius steadies her and looks to Colbert. “Aww, look, now. You’ve terrified the poor thing. Do you have any absinth up there, dear?”

“Um… y—yes, sir.” She reaches up and grabs a few shots and places them on the table.

“Now, go fetch a bottle of wine for the Emperor and some more of whatever our friend the President is having, and be careful, now.”

“Yes, sir…” she said, proceeding out of the bubble carefully.

“Poor girl. Couldn’t be more than twenty-something. Oh, yes. Business. I’ve had you both come here because we in the Eastern Reich need to stick together, I believe. To our north and east are the Vaku, to the west the Ortagans, and to the north Valinor. I think it is chiefly important that of all people in government, the Executives be able to work with eachother on a face-to-face basis, especially the three of us. That said, I think one of the chief problems the Eastern Reich faces, and this is no affront to you, Mr. President, the strife amongst the population in Ticonderoga. You can’t deny that some sort of trouble is brewing. I just thought it best if we could talk these things over, executor to executor to executor. Share ideas, work around the bureaucracy and diplomats a little bit wherever we can, yes?”

"I do believe that at the moment, the civil stife taking place in Ticonderoga is not of great importance, but has the potential to become troubling. However, if at any time, Verniian citizens or property are harmed in these incidents, it will become a matter of interest for my government. At the moment, though, I will refrain from making an official position on your internal unrest, it is your problem to deal with. I would however, recommend reconciling with the troubled elements of society. You are a republic, and you have a duty to all of your citizens, not just your voters."

Colbert’s temple throbs again, he massaged it will taking in Darius’s words. Though they held no malice he recognized that intent that motivated the his carefully chosen words. Stephen always could recognize a wolf in sheep’s clothing and here was one of the nastiest. Colbert wouldn’t put it by him that Darius already had some sort of clandestine operations occupying back in the capital. The man had guile, something Calimar could not claim. His temple throbbed a bit more as Colbert swallowed the words he wanted to saying with a short sip of his tonic. It was easy for a member of the Liberation or even the Verniians safe in Gregor to talk of the threats on their borders; it was an entirely different matter when you lived on the edge of those Frontiers.

“Alexis,” Colbert never bothered with aristocratic titles, “I am alike my processor in perhaps only one way. And that is in our sentiments of the Imperium Government’s foreign policy. I think it is quite clear that you haven’t thought there ever was any serious problems occurring in my Concordat until your nation’s assets are threatened. Rest assured I am viewing the growing dissent in Ticond quite closely and am quite concerned, and will do my best to contain any spread of these unsavory dissidents.

“Guardian, may I call you Darius?” Colbert asked and awaited confirmation before he spoke next. “I did not come all the way here to answer for my actions in policing my state. I will be honest with you both because among us three we can afford that much at least, I will not hide behind obscure law codes like an Ortagan lawyer, likewise I will not shield my words with the subtleties and niceties of court etiquette like a Valinor politician, no I think will be quite frank in this conversation.

“I think we should understand one thing about the situation in Ticonderoga before we proceed from this point. The Ortagan Hegemony was defeated in the Great March War, they started it and the Combined Allied Powers ended that bloody conflict. But it is my nation, the Concordat that was the true loser of that war. We suffered in the first Observer assault, greater then either of your nations in terms of damage to our infrastructe and then we suffered a second invasion of a full Ortagan fleet. Before we could repell that assault with the assistance of the Valinor and Gregor Free Legion, terrible damage was wrought on our already scarred nation. And mine is a nation that could ill afford such loss. Darius you alluded to the other external threats faced by the Southern March, but I don’t think you truly appreciate them. For 100 years my people have carved a living out of Ticonderoga, it is a barren system valuable only for its ore. Not twenty light-years distance is the system Cronos home of the Vaku. I can feel their claws thirsting for Wickian blood and ore, with the elimination of the Ortagans as a threat, my people are not needed anymore as a buffer between those two states. I fear that the cats will come calling and we are nothing but a stepping stone, Emperor Jukaga is shrewd and cunning, his coup was simply barbaric and he will not stop. This is one of my reasons for wanting to quell any potential dissidents in my system, if there is one thing the Vaku respect it is strength, if for one moment I allow myself to appear weak they will move in. Am I sorry yes, but better a few violent rioters be shot then Ticonderoga become the 2nd Dylar.”

“I’ve mentioned this dreary bit of news but I hope does not over shadow some good news I bring you both. It is clear that the current riots are a direct result of my nation’s inability to be self-sufficient anymore, we currently import in the form of aid shipments 75% of the minimal required food ration. I need not even mention the abject poverty of some Sides, and the lack of proper facilities for education or medical service as well. It is my position that these desperate times call for desperate measures. My Guild sides have a better existing infrastructure and are of more sound construction than any others in Ticonderoga. We are establishing testing models on guild sides for the distribution of aide and other welfare systems, I am told that in six months all guild sides should aid shipments continue will be out of danger.

“Of course through this time the Navy/Indy aligned sides will suffer, but they are being given the basic rations required by the Liga, if that is insufficient for them to maintain a comfortable lifestyle, well my heart goes out to them, but in six months it will be of no concern anyway. I just pray that we will have that time.”

Darius had to restore his mental footing. Colbert, he realized, was a politician like himself, and a smart one. He might be on the other side, but he could use the same tools.

"I didn't mean to call you here to repremand you for any action, Stephen, and yes, Call me Darius, please. I only meant to say that the civil unrest is, at least from my vantage point, a chief concern in the Reich." Darius paused, taking back another shot of Absinth (his tolerance was amazing, he was raised on the stuff).

"Hm... I can see that you do not feel well, Stephen, and you, Alexis didn't travel all the way from Gregor to hear what I could have told you over nu-space. If you'd both accompany me, sirs, I do wish for you to see the Rain."

He escorted them out a side door in the Hall and soon enough to a great covered walkway through the center of the Courtyard. The rain pounded harshly, ringing its sound through a building not built to insulate such a ruckus, but not an intolerable one. More like rolling thunder that soothes the senses.

Oddly enough, to Darius the rain was worth seeing. He may have seen it casually enough on New Hope, but it was different here. Every drop fell like a mighty bullet in an unrelenting torrent the likes most seen in terribly wind-swept storms, only here and now the wind did not blow.

"The Rain, in my country, only comes once in ten or twenty years," he began to address them, stairing out into the onslaught of falling water. "It may seem common to you and, yes, today it is even common to me... but the Rain here has always stood for something. Much as it is washing my prized flower garden," he gestured to the waters which ran atop the rich soil, uprooting plants, "it has always been a symbol of renewal, a disposal of the past. A clean slate, gentleman. I hope you see my reasoning in bringing you here on this one night that will only come two more times this century."

There he went again. To Darius his plea made simple enough sense, that the three of them should forget their differences and work together, that Toconderoga and the rest of the WIck must move forward istead of looking back. Sometimes one might think Darius had never been a diplomat at all, with exactly how inept he had become to think the WIck would forget or that the Verniians might be inspired to anything but more capital gains.

Clean Slate...Colbert was reminded of an old adage from some Earth-born Philosopher back before man even took to space. He forgot his name, Rene Descartes or something French in any case. If only things were that easy, twice the Wickian Fleet defended Gregor from foreign invasion at substantial risk and loss, and Twice the Verniians had stood by to watch Ticonderoga and Thetis burn at the hands of the Solar Navy, uncounted millions had died because the Verniians opted out of their treaty obligations. This was the one subject that guilders and Navy-allied supports could agree on.

Colbert shook his head sadly,

"Tableau Rosa?" he asked of Darius, then replied softly "I’m afraid blood does not wash of slate as easily as chalk, I am afraid that it stains."

Darius turned on his heals (as he tended to do when wanting to be particularly dramatic) and declared, quite estutely, "At the risk of sounding domestic, Steven, then we'll have to use bleach."

"The Liga hasn't helped enough and obviously isn't capable of understanding the blood shed by my WIckian comrades. I want to--" just then, probably the worst thing that could possibly happen short of a bombing occured: Sondhaus.

"Greetings, Mr. Guardian!" the representative shouted from across the walkway, exiting the party from the same side door and approaching the three men. "We all miss you in the Ballroom... oh, well, hello there Mr. President, Emperor, I hope you're enjoying your evening thoroughly."

Darius's eyes flared in fury, his right nostrel beginning to twich; a habit he had gradually acquired since the Congress's creation. "Representative Sondhaus, if you would excuse us we were having a private conversation."

Putting on a false sense of shock, Sondhaus continued. "Oh! How could I? I must have interupted your discussion with the Guardian about the bill currently being put through Congress to send additional funds and resources to domestic Peacekeeping efforts in Ticonderoga. How brash of me, I can't have come at a worse time, excepting the fact that I wrote the bill myself. Of course, I'm sure Darius has already told you all of this, particularly the large amount of support within the Liberation Government of your current regime."

Darius could only find one word to describe the moment, nay, the whole evening. Shit.

Yes, there is one thing that could be done to rectify the mistakes of the past Colbert thought to himself.

The bleach could be provided by the three powers gathered here and made even more potent with the addition of additional Liga sanction, namely contributions from the Valinor Star Empire and her dominions.

There still was one dire threat of the old Hegemony in existence, a threat ignored shamefully because of the price it would cost to neutralize. Perhaps a price the Allied Powers were no longer willing to pay.

That was because this threat was armed with the best technology and ships the old Solar Navy had to offer, in point in fact he was the mastermind behind most of the deadliest creations used by that navy, Ginias Saharin. Who at this very moment was holed up in Mesa of all the damnest places with almost one hundred of the Solar Navy's dreadnaughts, according to the scant and sketchy intelligence packets forwarded from the Grayson Navy in the Talbott Cluster.

This real reason Colbert wanted to talk to Darius and Calimar tonight was not about his own domestic problems but about this clear and present danger to all their nations. Ginias Saharin was the most wanted war criminal to date and the record of his crimes against humanity and most especially to WIckain civilians and prisoners of war needed to be addressed and the sooner the better.

It was at this time that the Liberation representative burst into their conversation. Colbert listened to his words, but all the while thought to himself that this little whelp of a man was quite distasteful. Perhaps representing everything that the navy faction despises about his own Guild Bloc politicians, intelligent perhaps but completely lacking integrity and honor. More apt to pull underhanded moves to secure their votes, or by barging into important conversations such as theirs, but his words were intriguing, and Colbert realized the worth of this worm, such men made for excellent tools, and for a price they could be controlled and directed...

“Blake’s blood, Mr. Sondhaus was it?” Colbert replied cordially, though enacting a traditional Wickian swear of shock, which he feigned quite well, putting his hand over his heart. “Regime is a noun best used to describe an oppressive government, a government more aligned to the ideals of the former hegemony or perhaps even past incarnations of the Star Empire!” He joked lightly. “We prefer to identify the executive reigns of the President’s of the Concordat as Administrations , I was after all democratically elected by the electors of our Electoral College.

“Please join our conversation, and for your information, Darius here has not mentioned any such bill. In point of fact he has made it clear that his own politics are quite worried about my administrations’ domestic policy concerning the recent…troubles in my capital. It was my understanding that this represented the majority opinion of the Liberation government, was I mistaken in that assumption, Mr. Sondhaus” Colbert pried.

Sondhaus smirked and gleefully entered the conversation, figuratively and literally. "He really hasn't mentioned it atall? Well then, I guess I'll have to endulge you..." He went on to explain the bill in all too much detail, when it could easily be summed up in the words he'd used before: "to send additional funds and resources to domestic Peacekeeping efforts in Ticonderoga." Darius let him ramble on; the Wickian already heard the damage, he might as well let Sondhaus bore them.

"Yes, well, I didn't mean to bring up an uncertainty. While the Federalists may be all in for the bill, both the Democrats..."

"Mr. Guardian's Party of choice," Sondhaus chimed in to inform everyone.

"... Yes, both the Democrats and the Anian Zapatistas are resisting it, giving them the majority. Also it's just been entered and lawmaking is a very slow process."

“I am well aware of the slow speed of democracy when there exists partisan politics Mr. Sondhaus. Although such indecisiveness is unfortunately it is necessary is it not to maintain the virtues of a free republic?” Colbert sounded almost tired, “I do hope that such a bill will be passed through your legislature in a timely manner for every credit of foreign aid we receive that is a bit of our own income that we can redistribute to domestic humanitarian aid.”

Colbert now considered both the representative and the Guardian when he spoke next, “I would hope how Mr. Sondhaus that if your party is feeling so aligned politically with the plight of my nation you could give your support to this next notion that I wanted to propose to both Darius and Alexis today.

“Darius you said earlier that we will have to use bleach to wipe the slate clean between our nations, and you were right, after a fashion.” The President of the Concordat looked into the eyes of Alexis Calimar as he spoke next, “Once there was a time when Wickian and Verniian were the closest of allies, but those days are gone it seems. There is not one Wickian who has not asked themselves if a loved one might be alive this day had the Imperium Fleet come to our aid when we asked for their aid in the past. My people know loss and betrayal, hundreds of thousands of our own sailors and billions of credits worth of ships have perished in Gregor through the last century, and for nothing to show for it but loan incentives and construction projects, most unfortunate for the relationship between both out peoples and nations my friends. Yet, if there is anything that my countrymen believe in if there is to be any hope of restoring what we once were, we will find the answer in redemption.

“The war in which we had fought so hard for so long is now over. In this past century all of our nations have suffered, my own had wittiness the destruction of our home world, and a mass exodus from that system, a genocide wrought upon us, even New Cardonia has been nuked in this war, but the Hegemon is dead and his government fallen at long last. Although the master of that evil nation is slain, his servants have scattered into the dark of night to haunt our nightmares and plague our territories.

The President now spoke softly quietly as if he was talking about a ghost, “Well we have found one of Ansel’s worst henchmen, the man responsible for the genocide which has accounted for the murder of over 1.5 billion of my people, Ginias Saharin. He has taken refuge in the Talbott Cluster of all places in the Mesa system. He has at his command 80-100 dreadnaughts formerly of the Solar Navy, and knowing his nature they are all well outfitted and equipped. So long as this monster and war criminal remains at large he remains a clear and present danger to our national security.

“What I propose here and now is a reaffirmation of past bonds. That we three pledge that our nations will stand together again. Calimar think of it, just as the People’s Republic and the Commonwealth had stood together and died together in the War of the Lion, so we shall if it is required of us in the future. Our alliance will represent the new “Central Powers” of the Raumreich, and let our first test be the cooperative pursuit and the campaign to bring Saharin to justice. “

Sondhaus and Darius looked to one another, confused. Though the two were opponants only a moment ago, they were tied at the hip now. "The Talbott Cluster?" they two men cried in unison.

Darius, one eyebrow raised but trying to sound a bit less incredulous. "You want us to go riding off into the Outer Reaches to hunt down some old Ortagan warlord?"

Sondhaus agreed, "The Congress will never fund it. I thought we were talking about Ticonderoga."

Darius, daring to keep the focus away from military excursions, even if it took highlighting the disasterous conversation on Ticonderoga, nodded "Indeed!"

While Calimar had been content to merely observe and listen in silence until now, Colbert's radical proposal caught him off guard. Thankfully Darius and Sondhaus' confusion and rejection gave him time to quickly gather his thoughts.

"With all due respect to the Liberation and its losses during the war, Saharin is no mere war criminal. Erewohn wouldn't have fallen quite so easily had Saharin's toys not caught the Grand Fleet by surprise and destroyed many of the permanent defenses. While officers like Admiral Rackham are insignificant enough that they can not only be ignored, but tolerated. Saharin is far more dangerous. Not only that, but unlike Rackham and his domain of Kerezin, Mesa has a significant industrial base that was put in place by the Hegemony. Add in the substantial amount of the Solar Navy's capital units that he took with him in his flight from our guns, and you have a force that can serve as a destabilizing influence in the Cluster and the Federated Suns. His presence there cannot be tolerated."

Ticonderoga was the last thing Colbert wanted to talk about, especially with someone like Darius or even Sondhaus who was a whelp but still a considerably decent and democratic person when compared to some Guilders. No, he proposed this for a purpose, for starters to distract his fellow heads of state from the true situation quickly developing in Ticonderoga and second to placate the heads of the Naval Faction who wanted to prosecute Ginias Saharin.

“Yes, I agree entirely Alexis. All Markham is guilty of is effectively defending New Edo, then jumping ship before it went down. He is a nuisance at best, and the Liga has cleared him of any war crimes. The same can not be said of Saharin, he is without a doubt one of the worst criminals of the war. I know you have all seem the records released by the Star Empire, from the facility at Pilgrim’s Star. You have seen the dungeons where he…” For a moment even the Wickian voice broke, Guilder though he was at heart even Colbert was a man, “conducted his experiments. The number of Wickians killed at his whim for his pleasure is incalculable, but there were Vakutu even Verniians there as well.

The President of the Concordat gathered himself for a moment, his voice strong when he spoke next. “Consider Darius, this is the man who technology enabled the Long Range Strategic Missile Platforms to target New Hope and in the process wipe your capital from existence just to assassinate Admiral Setties. His human experiments enabled him also to produce those meta-humans who launched that assassination attempt Setties successor, and my predecessor as well.”

“Nearly one-hundred of the Solar Navy’s most modern and well-armed ships of war are in Mesa as we debate. There is no balance of power in the Cluster now, at a whim that fleet could fall upon the nations of the cluster enslave its people or worst before even the Valinor could hope to respond.

“No, the blood on Saharin’s hands must be avenged, the ghost of our past demand it. I know it seems to soon to act, all our fleets are still rebuilding, my nation’s own perhaps more then all yours. United though we can win, together we will bring that monster Saharin to justice, the lives of billions demand it.“

The Wickian held out his hand for Darius to clasp, “What say you Darius, do you stand with us on this? Or will you remain silent while evil men get away with their crimes?”

It's about now his frustration ate through his idealism. "Lots of evil men get away with crimes every day, Steven, and I'm not responsible for every looney with a gunboat in the Cluster." He looked over at Calimar for a moment then rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll see what I can do."

Sondhaus' jaw dropped.

"Have the Commands get together and work something out, your people will call my people, etc etc." Darius left all military matters to Murphy--he was lucky Murphy were so loyal, or else a coup would have surely ensued. "If there isn't anything else to cover, I'd like to get back to the party. You're welcome to join me or explore the covered walkways around the Garden and enjoy the rain." This time he had no energy to turn on his heals, so he just bowed the headed for the entrance, Sondhaus following close behind.

"It looks like those funds for Colbert's 'domestic peacekeeping' are suddenly needed to hunt Sarahrin," Darius said to Sondhaus, with a small grin, Sondhaus's face tightening in rage. "And yes, the Congress will pass it."

Entering the party, he slyly pulled out his MoComm to contact someone in the OCO (Office of Clandestine Operations). "Send Ginske a message. He's still our man. He'll know what it means."

“That is all I can ask, thank you for your cooperation Darius, if we can bring this fiend to justice, healing can finally begin.” The Wickian president said before the abrupt departure of the LNHers…

“I do believe Alexis that our friend Darius does not really have to stomach to pursue our enemies where ever they may hide, and he is a fool to think Saharin is a ‘looney with a gunboat’” A gunboat with almost twice the firepower of the entire LNH navy, Colbert well knew.

“I do not think I need to tell you this Alexis, but security and secrecy are paramount if we are to launch this operation. If Saharin knows that we are coming for him he will bolt and then we will never find him, until he launches another terrorist attack. The Valinor have been pushing for more cooperation between the Liga powers, how about we guise our Navy’s deployments as a deep space training exercise for a Liga Peace-keeper mission?”
If there were no other questions the President was ready to conclude their talks, he had a nation to get back to.

FYI Currently i am moving to new hampshire and am starting a new job. I probably wont have internet the next couple weeks. But I expect everyone have stopped slacking off by the time i get back.

Calimar idly swirled his wine glass, as he searched his mind for a way to bring the topic to a close. Parties weren't exactly the best places to plan a war after all. "I'll have my people get in touch with yours so our staffs can coordinate with each other and plan out the mundane details of such a joint operation. Even though I have limited experience with such things, it wouldn't surprise me if this takes months and a small army of bureaucrats to put together. If you'll excuse me, I feel like rejoining Darius and the rest of the party. You really should loosen up a bit while you're here. I know that the Liberation is viewed as decadent by your people, but decadent parties are always the best. Sin now, repent later." Calimar lifted his wine glass in a joking toast, gave his best diplomatic smile, and wandered off into the crowd.

+++

Across the light years, another social gathering of the elite was taking place in orbit over Vernii, aboard Duke Konrad Bennigsen's personal habitat, Mercuria. Mercuria was a product of Kiel Industrial Group's engineering, and part of the successful line of products based on updated O'Neill designs from Old Earth. It consisted of a 500 meter diameter sphere positioned between agricultural rings. Normally capable of housing 10,000 people in suburban density living conditions, the station was the sole property of the Duke. Bennigsen's architects and engineers had turned the interior of the sphere into a play land of guest villas, pools and lakes, variable gravity fountains, and extravagant gardens for the Duke's family, friends, and guests to enjoy.

How had Bennigsen accumulated such wealth? He was the chief executive officer of Kiel Industrial Group, the largest Verniian heavy manufacturing corporation, as well as the producer of most of the Imperial Navy's warships.

Bennigsen was an ambitious man, and the very fact that he had achieved so much in his life raised the level of what he still wanted to accomplish. He had thrown regular social gatherings aboard his station, entertaining the top strata of the nobility, industrialists, and His Majesty's officers. Over the course of the last few years, he had selected those with similar political and social viewpoints as himself, and tied them to him via favors and friendships, and immersed himself in their own social networks.

Tonight, he would bring this phase of his dream to an end. As 'evening' came to Mercuria's artificial day cycle, Bennigsen glided through his gardens and galleries, searching through his guests for particular individuals. Three hundred guests were aboard his station, and tonight, all of them were those who had met the standards of his project. All of them had lost a close friend or relative in the Great War or the War of the Lion, and all of them had a minimum net worth of five million solaris. Most importantly, they all shared at least partly in his political viewpoints.

He came to his first target, Marquis Antras York, who had run into financial troubles that Bennigsen had assisted with, as well as losing a son in the Third Battle of Gregor. He tapped the nobleman on the shoulder to get his attention and smiled broadly. "Ah, Marquis, there you are. I'll be assembling some of the other guests in the Apollo Salon in a few minutes for brandy and intellectual conversation, and I'd be delighted if you would join us." Receiving the Marquis' affirmative, Bennigsen went about collecting his other selected guests.

+++

"My friends, tonight I shall reveal a secret to you. I have brought you here because you are those that I place a great deal of trust in, that you will not repeat what I have to say to you tonight outside of this chamber. Do I have your word of honor?"

Receiving their assurances, the Duke continued. "I do not believe that Parliament is adequately representing the interests of the Imperium. I do not believe that His Majesty is adequately served by his Cabinet, and I do not believe the armed forces are adequately led by the Admiralty or General Staff. I do not believe that our nation is on the right course."

"I know that many of you feel the same, that our government does not possess the vigor to pursue what every Verniian citizen deserves. We all desire the largest empire, the best economy, and the premier military of our sector. What do we have? The third largest empire, the second largest gross domestic product, and the second most powerful navy. Under this government, we have actually lost power! Our GDP was once the highest in the region, and now we trail the Valinor by 34 trillion solaris! The Imperial Navy has only gained second place thanks to the Solar Navy being almost entirely wiped out. This has gone on for too long!"

Bennigsen paused, sparing a moment to dramatically glare at his guests sitting around the table.

"Gentlemen, my apologies. I have not brought you here to serve as recipients for my complaints. I have brought you here so I can share my grandest idea with you. I wish to restore a proper sense of ambition to our nation, and I wish for your assistance in doing this. I wish to create a driving force behind our government to accomplish what every proper Verniian desires, a place in the sun. I wish to create an organization specifically dedicated to bringing this about."

Lord Haye spoke up, "Could you elaborate on why this is a secret? There is nothing illegal about having a negative opinion of Parliament or His Majesty."

Bennigsen smiled tightly, "Because we will need this organization to remain secret. We will need to be the puppet masters of the bureaucracy, to compete with the established hierarchy, and to use our own positions to advance our cause."

The newly minted Vice Admiral Portman interrupted, "This is starting to sound to me like a conspiracy, perhaps even plotting against His Majesty!" His voice carried a tone of alarm.

"It is not a conspiracy! But there will be those who will try to stop us, both those who oppose us on idealogical grounds and those who will see us as competitors! Operational secrecy isn't just for the military, admiral. It can be applied to politics just as easily!"

The debate continued on for almost an hour, during which the Duke waged a vigorous persuasive campaign to satisfy any dissent or concern. With the last question answered, and the final agreement of the last dissenter, Duke Bennigsen raised his goblet of brandy to the painted ceiling of the Greek god Apollo.

"Gentleman, a toast! To the Project! The Project for a New Verniian Century!"