The death of Edward Calderon precipitated a crisis of succession for the Taurian Concordat. One by one the remaining heirs either dropped out of sight or were rendered incapable of ruling. This would have severe repercussions for the nation years later.

Even the eventual ascension of Grover Shraplen was not without its own flaws. The Taurian citizens were too used to seeing a Calderon as Protector, even when it was one as deficient as Thomas.

Shraplen’s regime had many problems, all of which slowly fanned the flames of civil disobedience among the populace, building up a powder keg liable to explode at any moment.

The arrival of Ian Calderon in 3068 would be the spark that would send the Taurian Concordat into outright civil war.

-The Taurian Civil War, Professor Michael Howard

 

Dropship Orwell’s Regret,

Inbound, Taurus,

Taurian Concordat

8^th August 3068

 

A soothing female voice came over the ship comms. “Attention, all passengers, we are now on final approach to Taurus. Please secure all your items and strap yourselves into your seats. We will be landing in five minutes. Local time at the Freedom spaceport is 1100 hrs. We hope you had a pleasant time traveling with Sierra Spacelines.”

Ian Dorlacen did as he was instructed, pulling the grav-secure belt clasp over his body, and snapping it into place into the seat receptacle. The pull on their bodies increased as the ship fell into the gravity well of the planet it was approaching, and so it was a safety requirement for all passengers to be securely strapped in for atmospheric re-entry. He saw Daniela Mattlov and Benny Greaves doing the same in the cabin they were staying in.

Their not-so-small cabin, Ian admitted to himself. He was used to the small functional accommodations in military dropships, even as the CO of the Arch Lancers. Their present first class room aboard the Union-class dropship, modified for passenger service, was certainly far different from the starkly utilitarian nature of most dropships.

It was slightly bigger than a two person hotel room, with three of the null-G net beds, along with a small fixed table, a wet bar fridge, a large holovids projector, and the mandatory seats for liftoff and landing. There was even a small sponge shower room with hot water! It was truly interstellar travel in style.

Forcing these thoughts out of his mind, Ian looked out a window to the blue planet below them.

Taurus.

Where he had been born, where he had spent his childhood, where he had countless quarrels with his overbearing, paranoid, sorry excuse for a father. Where he had abandoned his heritage, to become a mercenary amongst the stars.

He had feared he would never find the courage to return to his homeworld.

Ian smiled as he remembered Frank’s incredulous look as he had revealed his true name during the ceremony. Frank’s hands had been shaking, obviously considering whether to strangle his new elder brother, or to greet him with the respect due to a scion of a Greater Periphery House.

Descartin Winters did not react as vehemently as their youngest brother. In fact, he did not even fully realize the implications of Ian’s identity until Frank explained it to him. The clan warrior had been mildly impressed, but Ian had the impression that Des respected his warrior ability more than his heritage, which was usual for a clanner.

What was surprising was the way they had worked together in the few training exercises since the ceremony. Ian was not a superstitious man, but their teamwork had been impeccable. Some inner instinct had guided him during those exercises, telling him how to move in relation to Frank or Des for the best possible effect, which target to shoot at even before one of the others had even called it out, and even which part of the mech to target. The three of them working together had been unbeatable, even when heavily outnumbered.

Ian shook his head. It had been a messy two weeks of reorganizing, recruiting, and renegotiating before all three of them left the planet, coincidentally on the same day.

Frank had been confided to Ian his concern about Ian’s true motives for going to Taurus, and Ian had been forced to come clean with his real reasons, which Frank had accepted easily. It was a strong sign of trust by Frank, and Ian had been touched by Frank’s loyalty.

Frank had in turn told Ian of his personal reasons for going to New Avalon, which had Ian rolling about in laughter at the time. Ian had also accepted Franks’ explanation, and the mutual exchange of trust convinced Ian that he had done the right thing in swearing brotherhood with Frank.

Descartin was another matter. He was still distraught over Deserk’s death, but they slowly coaxed him back to life with training runs and briefings at Blackwell Industries on the latest technology. No clanner could resist the lure of war for long, and it was Frank’s firm belief that Des would be raring for battle when he returned from his errand to the Draconis Combine.

Whether he was willing to join their unit was another matter, though Ian had already decided that he would support any decision made by the elite mechwarrior. He had recognized in Des a kindred spirit, unwilling to bend to normal conventions, and the urge to wander around the galaxy.

They had uttered heartfelt farewells to one another at the Harlech Interplanetary Dropport, and Ian had been more than a bit sorry to part ways with his newfound brothers.

My brothers… Ian thought. He had many blood brothers, but they were all dead or missing. He had never been on really close terms with any of them, not even Felix with their shared sense of adventure. Instead, it was Janice who understood him best, and always willing to cover up for his mistakes.

Edward was the conscientious one, always willing to serve, willing to lead. His death had been a shock, and Ian remembered that as the breaking point for their father. He had been fully convinced that the bogeymen Davions were behind the accident, and he made no secret of his belief.

Then Janice came down with the Brisbane virus, and Ian had suddenly found himself as the next in line for succession.

Ian had never wanted to rule. He was impatient and reckless in his youth, always seeking a good scrap. His father had despaired of him ever gaining the skills and temperament for ruling an interstellar state, and that had been one of the reasons why Ian had ran away from home to join the Green Mountain Boys.

Felix had been next, and if Ian had thought himself unsuitable for rulership, Felix was even more so. Felix loved to explore, and he would often hop onto the next jumpship slated for a survey mission without permission. Ian was not surprised when he heard Felix had disappeared.

Then it had all boiled down to Jeffrey, their youngest brother. Jeffrey was a pragmatist first and foremost. Ian believed that he would have made an excellent Protector, and Jeffrey had proved his judgment right.

Until Jeffrey was killed on Detroit.

Ian had been in the Chaos March at the time, working for House Liao, and he had received the information as part of an intelligence update. The news had shocked him, and Ian had momentarily wrestled with the thought of returning to Taurus.

In the end, he had not, partly due to his fear of being rejected, but also because Grover Shraplen had stepped in to take over. Ian went on his way in the mercenary world, until fate brought Benny Greaves to him on Einstein.

From what Benny had told him, Grover Shraplen had began a heavy buildup of troops on the Federated Suns border, even pressing civilians into constructing and maintaining the defenses on the border worlds. Even Chancellor Liao had began advising the Protector to cut down on the mobilization, but to no avail.

Grover had certainly made a lot of unpopular decisions. From the agreement to help finance a new fighter factory in Magistracy space to his decision to enter the Star League while the Magistracy would receive the bulk of Capellan aid, each and every one of those moves had been mistakes.

The Taurians were builders and workers. Ian was curious at why the Protector had agreed to provide the funds for building a factory that was not even situated in Taurian space, all for the short term return of two production runs of fighters. In Ian’s mind, it would have so much better for them to finance the construction on Taurian worlds, where labor was well trained and plentiful, and the long term income would have been extremely useful.

The nomination for membership in the Star League was even worse. Ian had no real opinion on the merits of that now defunct body, but again, Grover had been seeking the short term advantage.

All too short, for the Star League had dissolved just under a year ago, with the Taurian Concordat being a member for just 3 years, with nothing to show for it. In contrast, the Magistracy of Canopus was enjoying increased production and higher levels of technology, which it had chosen instead of membership in the Star League.

The result of all that was growing resentment towards Shraplen, steadily growing by the day.

Of course, Shraplen might not even have any real motives for his choices at all, but was simply being stupid, a term which Ian was extremely reluctant to label on anybody who had managed to rise to such heights. Then again, the Peter Principle might be in effect.

On Benny’s advice, Ian was not returning as a Calderon seeking his birthright, but as a private and wealthy citizen looking for more opportunities to expand his business, which was not far from the truth.

Ian did want to find a company capable to working with the Men in Black, to provide the manpower for manning the manufacturing plants on Einstein. His choice of Taurus was sheer coincidence.

Or so he hoped to convince himself.

Daniela had been very much amused on the trip by the various facilities on the ship. If she had ever needed any first hand evidence of the decadence of the Inner Sphere, Orwell’s Regret gave her plenty of that.

Ian could not really figure out why she had insisted on tagging along with him, though he definitely did not mind having her by his side. Her courage and fierce intelligence were invaluable assets in any sticky situation. Of course, her sheer beauty did not hurt either.

Trying to keep her identity as a clanner secret had been easier than expected, but she would still tend to slip up at the most inappropriate of times, uttering quiaffs and quinegs and other clan terms when she really shouldn’t.

And her apparent disdain for the Periphery, especially the Taurian Concordat due to its role in the fall of the Star League, did not help matters any.

In any case, Ian had a sinking feeling in his stomach that they won’t be able to hide their identities as easily on Taurus.

He had gotten close to Daniela, and she did not seem to mind his company. He still did not know how to define their relationship, but he was willing to wait and see, without pushing the issue.

Daniela did not really understand, however, and the one time she asked him for coupling, he could only gargle out a ‘no’ before running away. Somehow, it felt wrong to him, though he could not place a finger on why he was being so cowardly.

Or maybe he just wasn’t ready for another relationship yet, after Karen’s death.

The capital city of Samantha could now be seen in the window, its tall buildings gleaming in the light of the system’s G3V class sun. The mess of concrete and ferroslab overlooked a vast plain, shining gold with the golden stalks of the wheat and barley farms on the flatland. Two large rivers passed near the city, their blue a beautiful contrast with the gold of the flatlands, and the white of the nearby glacial lake.

A low rumbling sound could be heard from the lower decks of the dropship, as the captain increased his engine thrust to slow their rate of descent to the spaceport. The vibration of the ship could be felt even through the thick cushioning of their seats.

They were scant meters away from the landing pad when the rumbling slowly subsided. Ian could see the control towers of the spaceport, as well as the distinctive shapes of several mechs on patrol and guard duty. He noted their insignia as that of the Taurian Guard.

“All passengers, we have landed at the Freedom spaceport. Again, please enjoy your stay on Taurus.”

Ian stood up from his seat, and stretched his muscles, before going to grab their luggage from their cases.

“Welcome home,” Ian told himself quietly.

 

Daniela Mattlov would have preferred to leave the dropship in the cockpit of her Warhawk, but Ian had insisted on keeping the mechs covered in their tarps, and that they are to maintain their guise as rich civilian businessmen.

She did not know if she should treat his instructions as an insult.

She was sure that Ian and Benny were hiding something from her, but she was unable to wean anything out from her commander or the short of stature but efficient Benny.

They were disembarking from the dropship through a long corridor lock instead of going outside the dropship to several waiting vehicles, which was the normal procedure on most planets. Daniela could not help but be impressed by the horizontal elevator now transporting them to the immigration counter. Such amenities would not be possible in the clans, because they would doubtless be considered wasteful.

Daniela looked at her luggage case, containing her sizable collection of civilian clothes, which Ian had insisted she wear instead of the combat jumpsuits she had worn since she was decanted from an iron womb. She had put up with dresses and skirts, tubes and spaghetti straps throughout the entire journey, foisted on her by Benny and Ian. If it had been up to her, she would have stuck with the plain jumpsuits.

She was currently wearing a blue blouse with a white skirt, setting off her shapely hips and her long legs. She was more than aware of her attractiveness to both men and women, and she suspected that it was only the constant close proximity of Ian that prevented a lot of the eligible men on the dropship from speaking to her. Spheroids were so strange in this regard. She did not remember Ian slapping a “Hands off!” sign on her.

On the other hand, she was beginning to wish that he had. Ian had been extremely polite to her, more than was required for a warrior to his bondwoman, to the extent she thought she could qualify as the most well treated bondman in history.

Nevertheless, Ian was always slightly… twitchy around her, as though he was constantly struggling to say something to her other than their regular discussions about clan life, politics, combat tactics, and the relative merits or demerits of various mechs.

For her part, Daniela was getting more than a bit frustrated at her lack of sexual activity, which was a staple of life for most clan warriors when they were not engaged in combat and had no other way to work off their energy. It had been, she estimated, at least 6 months since she had coupled with anybody, and she beginning to think she might have to resort to a long stick for her needs.

Asking any male on the ship was out of the question, since none of them were clan, few of them were warriors, and were likely to take matters the wrong way. To her disgust, she had even asked Benny, but the mechwarrior had been terrified by the very question itself. She had tried Ian, but he had simply blushed a bright red, mumbled several incoherent words in reply, and slinked off as fast as his legs could carry him, leaving her all the more aggravated.

It was made worse when she considered the role she was supposed to be playing, that of a rich businessman’s girlfriend. Apparently, that role did not extend to the bedroom.

Still, she had come to know Ian quite well, and she now regarded him as a true friend instead of just the elite enemy warrior that she had first met and fought on Einstein.

Daniela glanced sideways at Ian, who looked every bit the part of the rich merchant. He wore a blue jacket over a white colored shirt, and dark blue pants, complementing her own attire. Benny was dressed completely in black, as befits his role as a bodyguard, albeit a small sized one.

Ian had a tight expression on his face, and seemed to be getting tenser the closer they got to the security counter.

“Relax, boss. Our passes are perfectly legit.” Benny said they stepped off the horizontal elevator, pushing a large trolley with their luggage.

“Maybe Ian is worried about our mechs.” Daniela guessed. They had brought their mechs along on the dropship, explaining it away as private property. Ian’s modified Awesome, Daniela’s Warhawk, and Benny’s Dire Wolf sat in the cargo bay of the dropship, which had been one of the few capable of transporting both passengers and mechs, although it was at high cost.

“Yeah, I am worried about our mechs, but that’s about the least of our worries.” Ian said as they entered the queue for immigration and security.

“Then what are you worried about?” Daniela asked. “We are not wearing any weapons, so I can hardly see how there could be any trouble with security.”

Ian shook his head. “It’s a bit hard to explain…”

Benny cut in, “Boss, it’s been a long time. Nobody will recognize you.”

Hmmm… what did that mean? Daniela thought. “Benny, what do you mean by that?”

Ian and Benny exchanged glances before Ian spoke first. “I grew up on this world.” And he left it at that.

Somehow, Daniela was sure that there was more to that than either man was willing to tell her, so she held her peace, and opted for observing the people and facilities around her.

She was quite surprised at her first real look at a Periphery world, even one as developed as Taurus. The freebirths were well dressed, and even if the equipment and technology in the spaceport looked a bit out of date, their cleanliness lent them an air of newness and sophistication.

Several air curtain doors with counters at every door separated them from the arrival hall. They passed through the checkpoints with ease, the spaceport personnel hardly giving them a second look as they stamped their passes and sent them on their ay to the next counter.

Daniela could hear Ian’s sigh of relief as they passed through the final checkpoint and into the arrival hall.

“Where to next?” She asked.

“We get transportation.” Benny replied as he walked over to a car rental counter. He walked away moments later with a set of keys.

“I arranged for this when we jumped insystem at the nadir point.” Ian explained. “Lead the way, Benny.”

They were soon in an open air hovercar moving on the wide streets from the spaceport, the cool air blowing in their faces.

“It’s great to travel in style!” Benny whooped in joy as he barreled down the highway towards the outskirts of Samantha. Ian sat quietly in the shotgun seat, staring at the scenery.

”Where are we going?” Daniela asked over the wind rushing over them. “Shouldn’t we go to the city to look for accommodation?”

“Nope, that has already been taken care of. Right, Ian?”

“Hmm?” A distracted Ian replied, before he recovered. “Uh yes. We already have lodgings available.”

“I would very much appreciate it if you tell me first, sir.” Daniela grumbled. She felt more than a bit naked traveling without her mech nearby.

Their mechs were currently being processed by the spaceport security, and Ian had already assured her that the deadly war machines would be transported safely to a warehouse near the city as soon as possible.

Barely an hour had passed when the hovercar slowed down as it neared a large estate. A large mansion stood amidst a field of tall trees, which in turn slowly gave way to abundant farmland. An arch hung over the road leading to the mansion, engraved with an ancient heraldic sign.

Benny slowly steered the car into the front porch of the mansion, and Daniela could see several red clad servants hurrying out from the doors of the large building. A fountain decorated the front porch, and Benny circled it to the door where the entourage of servants awaited them.

Standing in front of them was a average looking man with gray hair and a beard. He wore a pair of metal spectacles, lending him an aristocratic air.

Benny stopped in front of the man.

The man bowed as Ian stepped out of the car. “Welcome, Ian Calderon, to my humble abode. I am Baron David Clayton.”

What the… Daniela, who was leaving the hovercar herself, stopped in mid action as soon as she heard the words. She looked at Ian, who was walking towards the Baron. Ian shook the man’s hand.

“Thank you, Baron Clayton,” Ian said, “I trust nobody else knows of this meeting?”

“Nobody else knows, sire,” the Baron confirmed as he released the handshake. “The others are waiting for you upstairs. Captain Greaves can leave the hovercar and your luggage to my servants. Please, all of you,” he gestured to Ian, Daniela and Benny, “follow me.”

Daniela stared hard at Ian as they followed the Baron into the mansion. Ian wore a grim expression, as though he was going to attend an execution. She did not understand why, but she did realize now who Ian was.

Her studies of the Taurian Concordat while they were in transit had told her of the problems with succession in the Periphery state. Ian had been mentioned as the name of one of the heirs to the Protectorship, and Daniela wanted to hit herself for missing such an obvious clue.

If anything, she was feeling more confused than ever. If Ian was a Calderon, one of those corrupt and greedy member of the houses which had led the Star League to ruin, then what about her first hand experience of his bravery and skill? And why did he even run away from his home in the first place to be mercenary?

Why did he choose to return now, of all times?

And what did that portend for their relationship, as nebulous as it was?

They were quickly shown to a large room. Baron Clayton opened the door, and they walked in.

 

Ian could feel Daniela’s eyes boring into his back as he entered the room. There were about ten people in it, but the one who came to his attention immediately was the aging woman in a wheelchair.

He could not hold back the tears in his eyes any longer as he stumbled as if in a dream towards his sister.

Janice Calderon raised her head with visible effort, and her smile, though weak, was filled with warmth and love for her younger brother.

Ian knelt in front of her wheelchair, his tears now flowing uninhibited from his eyes, his strong hands clasping the atrophied ones of his sister. He could barely control the emotions in his voice as he whispered, “Janice, I’m home.”

 

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