Warship True Vision,

Nadir Jump Point, Labrea System

Smoke Jaguar/Nova Cat Occupation Zone

2^nd December, 3051

 

“The Inner Sphere!” Deserk gestured grandly with his arms spread open as he stood facing the viewing window on the gravdeck of the Congress class frigate. The view before him, at least momentarily before the rotating deck shifted the view away, was that of the star system of Labrea, the distant system primary a tiny beacon of light in the vastness of space. “I find it hard to imagine that it would be our generation that would finally return to these lands!”

He noticed a glum Descartin catch up with him on the running track. The rest of the trinary were all over the gravdeck, some of them running on the tracks, the others working out on the gym machines. It was physical training time, two hours in which they were to enjoy working out in the gravity provided by the gravdeck, a rotating ninety meter diameter ring around the hull of the warship, providing a semblance of gravity by centrifugation.

In the 31^st century, humanity traveled the stars by means of the large Kearny-Fuchida jump drive, which allowed a vessel to travel up to thirty light years in an eye blink. Massive ships were constructed with such drives, but most of them contained only relatively small normal space maneuvering drives. These ships were named jumpships, since jumping from star system to star system was all that they could do.

However, certain ships were built with much more compact KF drives, which also allowed them to mount more powerful thrust engines for space combat. They often carry naval class weapons capable to destroying lesser ships in one salvo, and can even wipe an entire city off a world with sustained bombardment. They were called warships, for their sole purpose was war.

The True Vision was one such ship.

“I do not see why you have to be so happy about it.” Descartin murmured as he jogged past Deserk.

Deserk heard that, and he ran up beside Descartin. “What, is there reason not to be happy? Or maybe the work is getting to you, quiaff?”

Descartin nodded, which was no surprise to Deserk. His sibkin had been under tremendous pressure since his appointment, and every day was either near impossible training runs drawn up by Star Colonel Nostra, or long sessions with Star Captain Oasic on tactics and command.

Still, Deserk had to admit that Descartin was holding up admirably. In their last training session in the simulators on the ship, the trinary had managed to fight the command supernova to a draw, which had drawn grudging praise from the Star Colonel. The greater effect though, was on the attitude of the other Star Captains towards Descartin, as they began to treat Descartin more like an equal, and less like a poor relation.

At first, poor Descartin was clearly overwhelmed by his role, and the other officers had treated him badly, like a freebirth upstart who did not deserve to be there. For example, their trinary was always the one assigned to menial tasks like long range patrols, extra-vehicular defense on the hull of the warship and the like, while the other trinaries got the more glorious duties. It had taken Descartin every bit of his control and discipline to refrain from challenging the other officers to a Trial of Grievance.

Despite that, Descartin was able to keep the morale of the trinary up, aided by Star Commander Jeff. Descartin had come up with the idea of a weekly dinner session together, where all the members of the trinary would sit, eat, and discuss the problems they have, as well as possible solutions. Thankfully, the members of the trinary were all determined and well-motivated, and they even understood Descartin’s problems, and were willing to grant him the benefit of the doubt.

One effect of the dinner sessions had been closer relations between the warriors of the trinary, and as they jogged on the track, Deserk caught eye of Warrior Rossi, who was working out on a bench press. He did not bother to avert his gaze as he admired her firm and toned body.

“So, you have been coupling with Rossi.” Descartin said without preamble as they continued to jog at a leisurely pace. “What is it like?”

“Well, why do you not try it yourself?” Deserk grinned. It was well known in the trinary, indeed, in the entire cluster, that Star Captain had never coupled before. There was a running bet as to when he would succumb to the temptation, and Deserk had already placed a sizable wager on the issue.

Descartin grunted in reply to the question. Deserk pressed on. “If you are so curious about it, then just do it! There is no shortage of willing partners. We are young and virile warriors, and coupling in our spare time is an accepted part of our lives. You are the only one who obsesses over mech readouts and battle ROMs of the engagements against the filthy freebirths of the Inner Sphere in his free time.”

“Well, you have given my reasons for me, so there is little more I need to say.” Descartin started to speed up his pace. “Race you to the finish!” He shouted to Deserk.

Deserk already knew what Descartin was up to, and he kept up with Descartin almost all the way to the finish line before his lungs gave out. He came in half a step behind Descartin.

“Not bad… for someone who stays… in his room… all day.” Deserk wheezed out as he leaned over on a wall to catch his breath, his head resting on the ferroalloy. “I… still do not understand… why you insisted on jogging… when we should be building up our… muscular strength.” Deserk panted, pulling in oxygen into his straining lungs.

Descartin picked up a towel from a nearby rack, and said as he wiped off the sweat in his face, “Endurance.” He did not seem exhausted at all. “And you are tired because you talk too much.” He threw a towel over to Deserk, who caught it easily.

After wiping off some of his own sweat, Deserk straightened himself, and started to stretch his legs. He had managed to get back enough of his breath that he could talk more normally. “Endurance? We are not going for marathon races, quineg?”

“Neg. But there is a reason why I insist on everybody running at least 6 kilometers two times a week. And it has to do with the battles ahead.”

“I do not see why you have to be so worried about our endurance. Odds are likely that we will wipe out the freebirths after just a few minutes of action. Our mechs and our weapons are far superior to anything they have.”

Descartin shook his head and sighed heavily, as though exasperated at Deserk’s reasoning. “Neg. You see the battle ROMs. You see the Jaguars have their way with the defending mechs when they are brought to battle. You see them tear apart the weak freebirth mechs with ease. What you fail to see is the time between each battle, the amount of maneuvering that was required for them to bring their forces to bear. And each battle is taking longer and longer to resolve, while the Inner Sphere warriors adapt their tactics for prolonged hide and seek battles.”

Deserk shook his head, flinging droplets of sweat away from his hair with the motion. “Guerilla tactics can hardly stop us.”

“Neg.” Descartin agreed, as he copied Deserk’s stretching actions. “But these tactics slow us down, and we will have to remain on alert for longer periods of time in order to react to their attacks. That means longer hours in the cockpit. We have to be ready when the time comes.”

“Stop worrying so much!” Deserk chided. “You give the freebirths too much credit. Mark my words. We will steamroll them in the battles ahead.”

Descartin shook his head ruefully, still unwilling to concede the point. “Better to be prepared than not.”

“Ahhh, you are thinking of all this, because you aspire to high rank, quiaff?” Deserk asked. “Come on, admit it. All this hard work… Is it for your benefit or ours?”

“For everybody’s. Deserk, I have a feeling about this campaign. It will likely change us for all time, in ways we cannot even begin to guess. We have to be prepared for the worst, lest we are swept away by events.”

“I see you have been listening to the Oathmaster. Why do you persist in believing that disaster still lies ahead?”

Several months ago, Oathmaster Biccon Winters was said to have a vision, where she had predicted correctly that their clan would be activated long with Clans Steel Viper and Diamond Shark to take part in the return. She had further said that victories would not come easily, and that they would eventually succumb to defeat. What was more puzzling was that she claimed that Comstar, the one remaining fragment of the long lost Star League, would be the instrument of their downfall.

She had even attacked the military leader of Comstar, Anastasius Focht, when he had visited the True Vision. It had taken a Trial of Grievance by the saKhan to force her to accept Comstar’s presence, as well as their help.

Deserk still did not know what to think of Comstar, but he was pretty sure that any organization willing to aid them in the restoration of the Star League was on their side. Comstar was basically what was left of the Star League’s Ministry of Communications, which had spent the Succession Wars trying to keep humanity alive by using its hyper-pulse generators to maintain the communications network in the Inner Sphere, the nervous system of any interstellar civilization.

“It is not something I can explain.” Descartin stopped his stretching, and started walking for the pull up bar, with the towel hanging around his neck. “Just a feeling, that is all, not even a vision.”

Deserk followed to the bar, shaking his head. “Anyway, the command briefing in the evening should give us a clearer picture of what we are about to face. Beta Galaxy is already attacking Irece, if I am not mistaken, and we will be jumping tomorrow.”

“Aff.” Descartin reached up for the horizontal bar. “I can certainly hope for a target worthy of our skills.”

 

Ihara Family Estate, Avon System,

Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine

 

Chu-i Yoshino Ihara knelt down solemnly in front of the table, smoothing out the wrinkles in his uniform as he did so. Across him sat a thin but wiry man in a black formal suit.

“Konnichi-wa, Chu-i,” the man bowed deeply, “I am Agent Hyu Dong Ren from the ISF. I offer you my sincerest condolences for your recent loss.”

Yoshino returned the bow. His eyes were frigid chips of ice when his head came up. “Domo arigato, Agent Hyu.” The words and the look on his face were completely at odds with each other.

Agent Hyu wasn’t fazed by Yoshino’s anger. Or maybe he knew it wasn’t directed at him. Not specifically, anyway. He got down immediately to business. “As you know, I am here to report on the deaths of your parents in the Periphery, on Multan. Apparently, they were there on a commercial trip. However, a pirate band took that exact same moment to attack the world. They attacked the local spaceport, and killed all the people there. Your parents were among those killed.”

Yoshino glared. “Which pirate band was it?”

At this, the ISF agent seemed extremely reluctant, and he dragged out the words. “It was a new band… led by Vance Rezak, formerly of the DCMS. They call themselves the Band of the Damned.”

Yoshino hissed in disbelief, his anger giving way. “Iie. That is impossible. I knew Sho-sa Rezak. He would never do such a thing.”

Vance Rezak was one of the most honorable men Yoshino had ever known. He had even visited the family estates before, in his role as a important commander in the Pesht Military District, when Yoshino was just about to apply to the local garrison commander for sponsorship to the Sun-Zhang Mechwarrior Academy. Rezak had given him a lot of encouragement, and Yoshino had been greatly impressed by the attitude of the samurai mechwarrior.

“Sho-sa Rezak has forgotten his giri to the Dragon, and resorted to banditry to support his senseless vendetta against the Combine. His band is well armed, with at least the one Overlord dropship that transported his DCMS battalion, an Invader jumpship that we suspect originally belonged to the bandits, and at least two companies of mechs with another company of armor support.”

Yoshino was flabbergasted. “That much amount of hardware for a pirate band?”

“We are quite sure on this. But he is ronin, masterless, and we shall soon take care of him, the amount of mechs he has is irrelevant.”

Yoshino was not convinced, but he really wanted a piece of the band. “Any reason why he decided to turn pirate?”

Hyu seemed a bit uncomfortable at the question. “We do not know. He was sent on a pirate hunting mission. The next thing we knew, he had become their leader.”

Yoshino was sure there was more Hyu wasn’t telling him, but he also knew better than to provoke an ISF officer. Mere Chu-is, even those who are minor nobles with substantial estates, do not question the authority of the Internal Security Force, guided by the beguiling smile and deceiving hand of Subhash Indrahar.

“Can I take a place on the unit assigned to hunt the pirates?” Agent Hyu was there not only to inform him of the circumstance of his parents’ deaths, but also his next posting in the DCMS. It was highly irregular, but then again, irregular circumstances were the norm these days.

“Iie. You cannot.”

The answer was succinct and to the point. It was also disappointing, but Yoshino had other methods at his disposal. “So ka? As one of the Sun-Zhang’s top graduates, I think I can wrangle an assignment to the units on the Periphery.”

Hyu shook his head slowly. “The pirates will have to wait. The clans are returning.

Yoshino blanched at the shocking news. “The clans are back?”

Everybody in the Inner Sphere had by now heard of the fearsome invaders from the depths of space, wielding mechs and technology beyond anything the Inner Sphere had possessed. The ones attacking the Dragon, who called themselves the Smoke Jaguars, were utterly vicious and without mercy in battle. They had even razed an entire city to the ground with orbital bombardment. Yoshino had seen the aftermath of their attack, from a smuggled holovid of the wreckage of Edo on Turtle Bay.

Almost a year before, the clans suddenly halted all their attacks, and simply settled for garrisoning their gains. Analysts had suggested that the successful Federated Commonwealth counterattack on Twycross and the Genyosha’s defense of Wolcott had turned the tide of the campaign, but Yoshino found himself highly skeptical, since the clans still had more than enough troops to continue the campaign.

There were other reasons, and trying to find out those reasons was why Gunji-No-Kanrei Theodore Kurita had traveled with his family to Outreach, where Colonel Jaime Wolf of the mercenary unit Wolf Dragoons had called for a council of war. They had since returned to the Luthien, but the information they had obtained was still disseminating down the highly censored media of the Draconis Combine.

Hyu was dead serious as he spoke. “Hai. Reports have already come in of attacks on at least five worlds. I am not telling you anything you won’t hear on the news tonight anyway. All units will be placed on alert. Because of the situation, there are no jumpships available to transport you to the your original posting of the 5^th Sun Zhang Cadre on Altona. You will instead report to Tai-sa Vrock of the 2^nd Amphigean Light Assault Group tonight for your new posting.”

“Tonight? I still need to settle some matters.”

“Shikata ga nai. The situation is quite urgent, and we need every loyal son of the dragon squared away as soon as possible.” Hyu shrugged. “You will have all the time on-world, in your time off duty.”

But the 2^nd Amphigean LAG? Yoshino knew as well as any other officer of the DCMS that the Amphigean LAGs were descended from the Chain Gangs of mad Jinjiro Kurita’s reign, where he simply grabbed convicts from prisons and sent them into battle with rudimentary training. All members of the units were considered expendable and expected to further the goals of the Dragon at any cost, even their lives.

At first given the lightest mechs in the DCMS inventory and often the worst equipment, the Amphigean LAGs had since steadily improved their stock, but were still regarded poorly by the rest of the DCMS for their non-samurai mentality.

The “Light Assault Groups” moniker arose after the 2^nd regiment destroyed an entire heavy Steiner regiment in a series of relentless and brutal hit-and-run attacks. Nobody ever accused Jinjiro Kurita of poor strategy, even in his insanity.

Normally, any graduate would have reacted vehemently to the news that he was assigned to one of the LAGs, but then again, these were unusual circumstances. Yoshino could protest, but he also knew his duty to his nation outweighed his honor. Giri before meiyo. One of the basic tenets of bushido, the Way of the Samurai.

Such concepts had been drummed into him by his time in the Sun-Zhang Mechwarrior Academy on New Samarkand, one of the Inner Sphere’s finest training centers. Four years of some of the harshest training for a soldier had hardened Yoshino. He had known too many classmates who had committed seppuku when they were forced to drop out. He considered himself lucky and blessed to have graduated intact in mind(mostly), body, and soul. But that bit of good karma had been balanced out by the shocking news of his parent’s deaths when he had returned home for a furlough.

He had been looking to spending some time with his family, but that hope was gone now. The hearty laugh of his father, the soothing voice of his mother… all gone now. They were supposed to spend the rest of their lives in idyllic bliss, curse it! If anyone had to die, it should have been him, in glorious battle for his nation!

Yoshino felt a deep rage at the cruel hand fate had dealt him, but in this moment of crisis, everything else, even his own need for vengeance, had to take a back seat to the task of stopping the clans.

“Very well then, Agent Hyu. It looks like I have no choice but to do as you say.” Yoshino allowed a thin edge to creep into his voice. “But one day I will have my revenge on the killer of my parents, and no one, not even the Coordinator himself, will stop me.”

Vance Rezak, we shall have a reckoning when that day comes… Yoshino Ihara vowed to himself.

 

Warship True Vision,

Nadir Jump Point, Labrea System

Smoke Jaguar/Nova Cat Occupation Zone

 

Star Captain Descartin looked around him at the various officers of the clan in the lift. Many of them were elementals, which made for a very tight squeeze in the small space available. They clung to handholds at the sides of the lift in the absence of gravity.

There was Star Captain Santin West from the Nova Cat Lancers, Star Captain Denard Devereux from the 489^th Assault, and Star Colonel Kelly Hardo of the 4^th Nova Cat Guards. All bloodnamed warriors, all accomplished commanders.

As an unblooded warrior, Descartin felt more than a bit nervous in their presence.

Most of them had traveled over to the True Vision in shuttles from their own transport jumpships and warships for this briefing. Tensions were running high on board the ship as personnel tried to guess at the extent of the briefing that would be carried out. Having so many high ranking officers in one spot certainly indicated that something big was up.

As they waited for the excruciatingly slow lift to reach the level for the briefing room, Santin West said to him, “You are Star Captain Descartin.” It was not a question.

“Yes?” Descartin shuffled uneasily. Truth to tell, he was getting a bit weary of being tagged as a ristar, short for rising star, which brought with it a lot of pressure that he felt he could do without.

“I have heard good things about you from Star Colonel Nostra. He says you have great potential.”

Descartin had heard such words many times before, and the weight on his shoulders seemed to get heavier every time he heard them.

“Star Colonel, what my superior officer says does not count for much until I show what I can do in real battle. I have not performed as well as the other officers in simulations.”

“Ahh, but you did say that real battle is the only way to tell, quiaff? And so your true worth will only be revealed in battle, and not before.”

Descartin nodded. That made sense. But he still had his doubts. “Do you have any idea of what this briefing is about?” There was a feeling of being pulled upwards, as the lift decelerated.

West shook his head. “Neg. However, I believe that our questions will soon be answered by the Khan.” There was a chime, and the lift doors opened.

Kicking out against the walls of the lift with his legs, Descartin floated out into the corridor along with the other officers. They moved along the sides of the corridor, using the handholds to pull themselves along the passageway.

The briefing room was not far from the lift, and Descartin could see many other officers had already gathered in the room, perched around the various alcoves in the walls. A few were a bit disgruntled at the location of the briefing room, which was not located on the gravdeck, and thus necessitating the placement of alcoves and handholds for personnel to secure themselves during a briefing, instead of having them float about.

As they took up places near their respective commands, Descartin noticed that there was a woman in a white uniform standing near the holographic projector. She did not look like a clan warrior. Evidently, from the low buzz of conversation in the room, he was not the only one to have noticed this.

“Who is that?” Descartin asked Oasic Carns, gesturing to the woman in white.

Oasic grunted. “That is a Comstar precentor. She came with Khan Leroux from Courchevel.”

Descartin was about to ask for more details when Khan Severen Leroux swam into the front of the room, followed by saKhan Lucian Carns.

All the warriors of the clan came to attention as best as they could in microgravity. “At ease.” The Khan ordered.

Leroux nodded to the Comstar woman, who punched several keys on her console. A holographic projection of the interstellar map appeared, centered around their operational area. He gestured to the woman.

“This is Precentor Katrina Troth from Comstar. She will be assisting us in providing critical information about our next few objectives.” The woman nodded silently in greeting to the Nova Cats.

“A few weeks ago,” the Khan continued, “the Smoke Jaguars requested information on a particular target world from the ilKhan. They believed that by taking that one world, the warriors of the Draconis Combine would cease their resistance greatly.”

A dull hubbub rose in the room. Descartin was interested as well. What world could possibly produce such an effect on their enemies by its fall?

“That target is Luthien.” All conversation stopped immediately.

Descartin, like everybody else, was stunned by the news. Luthien, as the capital world of the Draconis Combine, will not be an easy world to conquer. The Black Pearl of the Inner Sphere would doubtless be defended to the death by the samurai of the Draconis Combine Mustered Soldiery.

Khan Leroux pointed to the holographic map with a finger, picking out Luthien. The world was magnified, showing the important cities of the world, as well as crucial geographical and system data beside it. “Yes, Luthien. However, to the disappointment of the Jaguars, the ilKhan has deemed it a target of such importance that it must be taken at all costs. Therefore, he has ordered that neither of our clans are allowed to bid for Luthien, and instead work together to capture it. It is worth that much.”

Leroux gave another signal, and Troth pressed another button, which sent more information scrolling down. Descartin saw that it was information on the world’s defenses.

“With Comstar’s help, we are able to know the exact composition of the DCMS defenses. They currently have 4 frontline regiments there in the form of the 1^st Sword of Light, the Second Legion of Vega, and the 1^st and 2^nd Genyosha. As many of you know, it was the Genyosha that defeated the Smoke Jaguars on Wolcott. They are foes to be respected.”

“In addition, they have one political regiment in the form of the Otomo, the Coordinator’s bodyguard regiment. This gives them a total of 5 elite units, in addition to whatever they can scrape up from their militia reserves, to oppose us. Accordingly, we will attack with a total of 5 Galaxies, three from the Smoke Jaguars, and two from us. Obviously, as you can all see for our side, Alpha and Delta have been chosen for this glorious task. I think the Jaguars needed to field three galaxies to match our two, judging from their pathetic performance earlier.” The room erupted with laughter at the jibe.

The image of Luthien shrank back into the map. “In order to carry out the assault, we must first establish a base nearby for logistical reasons. Avon is deemed the best choice.” The image of Avon appeared. To Descartin, it appeared lightly defended for a world so close to Luthien.

“First of all, we must get there first. In order to achieve maximum surprise, we shall travel through uninhabited systems. We shall jump into the DC-3405 system, recharge our jumpship batteries, then make a double jump to the Avon system.”

“Opposing forces consist of the 2^nd Amphigean Light Assault Group. It is a light regiment, but rated as a veteran unit. It will not be easy to corral them if they decide to use dezgra tactics.” Descartin agreed with the Khan’s assessment, unlike many of his fellow warriors, who scoffed at the thought of freebirths in light mechs posing any problem for them.

“The ilKhan has ordered that we cooperate with the Jaguars to take the world. Therefore, I will have one cluster each from Alpha and Delta Galaxies in the attack. Are there any questions before I commence bidding?”

There was a long silence as the officers looked hard at the data on Avon. Descartin noted the expansive plains on the world, with little forest cover, along with relatively 50% surface water coverage. He also realized that the 2^nd Amphigean did not have any aerospace cover at all. In addition to the stated mech regiment, there were also two regiments of militia infantry, barely worthy of mention. A mere Star of Omnimechs with anti-personnel weapons would be able wipe them out in minutes, not to mention the superiority of their elemental armored infantry if it ever came to a grunt fight.

The Khan looked around, and as the various officers leaned back into their alcoves, signifying that they have ended their assessments of the level of resistance, he spoke again.

“Trothkin, hear me. I hereby open bidding for the conquest of Avon, against the 2^nd Amphigean LAG, freebirth warriors all. The result of battles are decided by courage and steel, but in the end are still subject to the unknown fates, revealed to us by our visions. May your bids reveal your insight into the future, and may you achieve glory in bloodying your foes.”

Clan combat was a highly ritualized affair. In any action, sub-commanders will bid for the right to have their forces participate in the battle, as well as command responsibility, with the lowest bid being accepted. This method not only reduces the waste of warriors, but also forces each commander to the edge of their tactical ability to achieve victory.

Organization charts of the two galaxies appeared in the holobox, detailing each unit down to its respective stars.

“Each galaxy shall contribute one cluster. Galaxy Commanders, you shall judge the bidding by your Star Colonels. Bidding starts at one full cluster. The cutdown is two trinaries.” Cutdown referred to the minimum amount of troops needed to win an objective during bidding.

So Star Colonel Nostra will be bidding for this, Descartin thought. Hmmm… what are my chances?

Star Colonel Kothinur Gitras started first. His bid was conservative, with four trinaries. Star Colonel Thadeus Nostra was next, bidding three trinaries. Descartin looked at his communicator, which still showed a green light, indicating that his trinary was still in the bid.

Star Colonel Evelyn Morris calmly shaved off two stars of elementals, leaving her with one trinary of mechs, one of fighters, and one star of elementals.

Gitras did not seem too dismayed as he went all the way to the cutdown, bidding a trinary of mechs and one of elementals. Nostra seemed to glow with pleasure, as he went below the cutdown, with only three stars of mechs, a star of fighters, and a star of elementals.

The room exploded in shock at the audacious bid. Descartin could hardly believe it himself as he realized that his trinary provided two of the mech stars, pared down to two stars, with Star Commander Sazur’s Gamma Star removed from the bid. The remaining mech star was from one of the novas from Command Supernova, presumably Star Colonel Nostra’s command nova, and the elemental star.

The other two Star Colonels shook their heads, leaving the battle to Nostra. Descartin was slightly shell shocked as he looked around the room, with the other Star Captains staring at him.

Why me? He wondered. Maybe he was chosen because there was no other way to lower the bid other than to bid in a green commander in place of an experienced one.

“Well bargained and done, Star Colonel,” Khan Leroux said as he congratulated Thadeus. “An interesting bid, and I approve of your plan.” He turned towards Descartin, who was still trying to grasp the extent of his predicament. “Star Captain, your superior officer has honored you with this bid. I hope you are worthy of it.”

Descartin gulped audibly. “I will not fail the clan, my Khan.” Why does this sort of thing have to happen to me?

He certainly did not want to be the first Nova Cat to lose a battle with the Inner Sphere.