However you looked at it, Milton Hawkings was the real genius. Not me, not the various scientists we had assembled, the brightest minds in the Inner Sphere. All of us eggheads could put together the weirdest and strangest devices ever conceived, but it was Milton who managed to steer our efforts in the most productive direction.

He could have been such a brilliant scientist, but we all agreed it was a very good thing he decided to be an economist instead.

-GUTting It Out, or ‘How We Found the Secrets of the Universe’, Lorik

 

Clayton Family Estate, Taurus,

Taurian Concordat, Periphery

13^th August 3068

 

“Ian, we really need your help.” Janice Calderon said as Ian pushed her wheelchair through the garden. “I suspect matters will soon reach a breaking point, and when that happens…”

Ian shook his head for the umpteenth time. “No. I only came back to have a look. Nothing more.” They passed under several tall trees, the shady foliage shielding them from the afternoon sun.

Janice twisted her head around to pin him with a stony gaze. “Ian, you have this obligation. It’s not something you can just walk away from easily.”

“I can, and I have. Look, I have next to no credibility, not after what I did when I ran away.” Ian pointed out. “You have Baron Kithrong. Get him to lead.”

“It’s not the same.” Janice sighed. “The Baron is a powerful man, but he doesn’t have the Calderon name, and he’s stuck on the outskirts of the Concordat. He can’t move to the political and administrative center because he has responsibilities in his holdings, and we can’t even be sure he isn’t looking out for himself in the first place.”

Ian tried another tack. “Then what is so wrong about Shraplen?”

“He’s making us too dependent on the Capellans for too little gain.“ Janice frowned. “In the past decade, we’ve lost more than two regiments getting involved in the Inner Sphere. That wouldn’t be so bad if we had gotten something really useful, but instead the technology and assistance we had received from the Liaos was, in monetary terms, less than what some mercenary units had received.”

“Shraplen was the leader of Macleod’s Land. He’s not stupid.”

Janice scoffed, “Sure, he’s not that stupid. We received lower priority than the Magistracy because Shraplen thought membership in the Star League was a better idea, and look where that got us.”

The Star League was dissolved at the end of 3067 due to its demonstrated ineffectiveness, but also scuttling the Concordat’s ability for better trade agreements with the rest of the Inner Sphere. As a result, many Taurians were getting fed up of Sharplen’s promises of a better future by the alliance with the Liaos and Canopans. Why, many of them were asking, couldn’t they obtain the technology themselves?

In fact, the Word of Blake had been a greater help to the Concordat than its Trinity Alliance neighbors in recent months, producing many new designs and upgrading their factories, seemingly for little in return.

Ian, who had worked with and against the Blakists in the Chaos March, was certain that there was something up. The Word of Blake always had a reason for its actions, and while he never did buy into the religious fanatic portrait, he had seen enough to know to watch one’s back when dealing with them.

“Things are not really that bad.” He insisted.

“Oh yeah? The worlds around Baron Kithrong’s holdings are in minor revolt, while events in the core worlds are slowly spinning out of control as the people demand an end to the alliance. I’ve never thought I’ll see the day when Taurians might shoot at one another, but it seems more likely if something isn’t done soon.”

“I thought we made an agreement, which is why we’re still in the Trinity Alliance.”

Janice nodded. “Yes, but that agreement is chafing on the people, and we’re getting the short end. In other words, we should renegotiate it. But Shraplen simply refuses to admit he made a mistake, and our recent buildup along the Federated Suns border, raising taxes, ignoring pirate raids doesn’t help either. I swear he’s getting as paranoid as Daddy. But worst of it is that he’s ignoring all other claims to the Protectorship. And the Calderon name is still very much respected here, Ian.”

Ian help up a hand. “So let me try to get this straight. Shraplen is getting it on the PR side because of his actions. But have the people any options as to who to replace him?”

Janice said in frustration, “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! The people need an alternative, and you’re it! Because Erik’s too young, we can’t trust Kithrong, and nobody else is suitable!”

Ian rolled his eyes. “Just because I’m around and convenient doesn’t mean I’m the only option.”

“There might be more, but right now, you’re our best bet.” Janice looked up at Ian. “I’m not forcing you to make a decision yet, but for the sake of our people, you had better soon. And that’s why the reception tonight is so important. You’ll need to see for yourself how bad things are.”

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” Ian insisted. “Dammit, I came back to have a look, not to get mixed up in politics. I’ll go to the reception, but I’m still going to stay out of it.”

“You’re stubborn.” Janice chided.

Ian riposted easily. “So are you.”

That provoked a laugh from Janice. “Runs in the family!” She stopped laughing after a while. “Have you thought about who to bring with you? You’ll need an escort.” Ian swore he saw a devilish glare in his sister’s eyes at that moment.

When he did not reply after a while, Janice pressed on. “Nobody knows who you are yet, but we can hardly keep that a secret, can we? It’s important that you look the part of a successful man, and a successful man must always have a beautiful woman beside him. I think you already have that part quite settled.”

Ian started. “Wait a minute, you’re not suggesting…”

She smiled. “Miss Mattlov certainly looks attractive enough, and she seems to like you. If we could only get her to dress up…”

Ian was incredulous. “Do you have any idea what you’re talking about? This is a bred-for-war trueborn soldier of the clans we’re talking about! She’s never been in such a social situation, and she has utterly no idea of our social mores. It’ll be all too easy for somebody to make a mistake around her and end up beaten up, or even worse, dead.”

Janice laughed. “Don’t be silly. That won’t happen.”

“How can you be sure? How many of those people at the reception tonight have actually met a clanner before? There’re few things in the Inner Sphere more prickly than a clanner. It takes very little to get them angry.”

“Ian, you’re over-exaggerating.” Janice shot Ian a sharp glance. “I’ve talked to her in the past few days, and she seems normal enough to me.”

“She’s just trying to be polite. When she snaps, and I’m pretty sure she’s going to snap soon, I don’t want to be anywhere around her.”

“What is it between you and her anyway? Is she your subordinate, your officer, an enemy, or something else?”

Ian groaned inwardly. It was something he tried not to think about. Even now, her status was extremely undefined. Heck, she didn’t even have a rank with the MIB! He wondered if it was a deliberate oversight on his part. He didn’t want to look deeper.

He admitted, “I don’t know myself. But still…”

“In any case, she is the perfect choice. Or would you want me to select one of the many eligible ladies from Samantha?” Janice’s eyes twinkled with mischief.

Ian shuddered, then threw up his hands in resignation.  “Okay, I give up. I’ll take her along. But,” he leaned down to Janice’s level to look at her, “that’s provided somebody can actually convince her to get dressed up.”

Janice grinned. “That won’t be a problem.”

 

Daniela frowned in puzzlement as she found herself swarmed by a veritable horde of servants. ‘Swarmed’ really was the right word to use here, as they were all over her just like Elementals on a mech.

She had been in her room trying to decide what to wear for the reception Ian told her they wee going to that night, before the servants had suddenly charged into her room, and firmly pressed her into the chair before the mirror.

She had thought it was an attack, but her attackers came armed with strange smelling bottles, rack after rack of clothes, boxes of shoes, and an assortment of cases with brushes and long thin sticks. She realized that whatever it was, it was not an attack.

Daniela tried to use a hand to swat away a pink fluffy thing near her face, but her hand was grabbed by another servant, who started applying some type of colored liquid on her fingernails.

One girl was saying, “Your skin is so smooth! How do you manage to keep it that way? This powder will make it absolutely glow!”

Another girl said, “Your face looks so natural! I bet you’ve never put on makeup before, right? A bit here, and a bit there, and you’ll knock all the men out!”

Daniela felt claustrophobic for a moment as she was assailed on all sides by the servants, chattering away at her and with one another. For the first time in her life, she felt really helpless. They worked on her hair, her skin, with strange liquids. For Kerensky’s sake, they were even working on her eyelashes! It finally dawned on her that this might actually be some esoteric form of torture.

Out of a corner of her eye, she spied Benny Greaves peeking in through the door.

“Lieutenant Greaves, help!” She shouted, only for Benny to yelp and run away with a scared expression on his face as he saw somebody approach from one end of the corridor. The servants did not pause in the slightest in their efforts.

Then she saw Janice Calderon enter the room in her wheelchair, pushed along by a female servant.

“Help me!” Daniela implored the much older woman. “Get them off me!”

Janice blinked for a few seconds. “What do you mean?” She said as her wheelchair came up beside Daniela’s torture chair.

“This… this torture!”

Janice blinked a few more times, before understanding came to her. She laughed, “Oh, I see. Miss Mattlov, this is not torture!”

“Then what is it?” Daniela asked frightfully as she heard a whirring sound behind her. She turned for an instant to see a device shaped like a gun aimed at her head, before another servant spun her head to face the mirror again.

“That device behind you is a hairdryer, while these servants are helping you to makeup. After that, we’ll find a nice attire for you, and then they’ll make some more adjustments. Girl, not many people have this sort of privilege!” Janice waved a hand, and suddenly all the servants dropped their tasks and left the room in an instant. The last one out closed the door. The hubbub in the room ceased, leaving the two a moment alone.

“What is makeup?” Daniela asked, calmer now that the ‘torture’ had stopped.

“It’s the action of putting cosmetics and scents.”

“Why is it necessary? All this… fuss over nothing.”

“Ah, but it is not ‘over nothing’. Image for a woman is very important, Daniela. By making yourself look better, you’ll make a better impression on other people, and that’ll help you make friends.”

Daniela stiffened slightly at the woman’s casual use of contractions. While she was more or less used to their use nowadays, she still could not help an involuntary reaction. She also wondered at Janice’s explanation.

She asked, “Why would I want to make friends here, Janice?”

Janice seemed to be a bit taken back by her question, “Because having more friends is a good thing. To be honest, it’s more for Ian’s sake than for yours.”

“Because he might get caught up in a civil war, and needs all the allies he could find?”

Janice raised an eyebrow, “How did you know?”

Daniela said, “I have been listening to the reports on the media. There seems to be a great deal of resistance to this Protector Grover’s rule.” She felt Grover did not merit a bloodname. “And it is growing by the day. The Commander is a Calderon, and the descendent of a former ruler, so naturally he has a right to the Protectorship. More importantly, he is here on this planet, the capital of your nation. It was easy to put two and two together.”

Janice smiled appreciatively. “Yes, you are correct, save for one thing. Ian has not decided if he wants to claim the Protectorship. I hoped the reception tonight will change his mind.”

Daniela bit her lips for a moment. “Commander Calderon does not change his mind easily.”

“I know. But I think he will once he sees what is going on.” Janice frowned. “Why do you insist on calling him Commander?”

Daniela felt the question strange, as was the change in subject. “Because he is my superior officer.”

Janice shook her head. “We’re not in a military situation. There’s no need for that sort of formality.”

Daniela looked puzzled. “Then what should I call him?”

“Just Ian, for starters.” Janice sighed ruefully. “That boy also should have enough sense to correct you. He never was very good at communicating with the opposite sex.”

Daniela looked down at her hands, trying hard not to show her own frustration at getting Ian to really talk to her. The last few days had been idyllic, and she had spent a lot of time with Ian, over meals and long walks in the gardens. But they kept dancing around each other, shying away from expressing their mutual attraction, instead focusing on their usual topics of tactics, mechs, and war stories.

It had taken her some effort to suppress the ill feelings she realized she still harbored from her clan upbringing. For example, every clan child learnt about how the entire fall of the Star League started on New Vandenburg, which was largely considered by many Taurians to be their emotional capital with its bloody history against the their Star League oppressors. Needless to say, it had been an eye-opening experience.

Janice reached out to pat her on one hand. “I know, I know. You have feelings for him, don’t you?”

I do not know. What are these feelings inside me? Daniela said, “I am not sure.” She fixed a determined look on her face. “But as his subordinate, it is my duty to assist him in whatever I can. If it requires me to undergo this… makeup, then I shall do so.”

Janice rolled her eyes. “Never mind. I’ll call in the servants. You’ll find yourself a new woman in a short while.” She patted Daniela’s hand again reassuringly. “Trust me.”

 

Ian Calderon shuffled his feet nervously as he stood near the entrance doors of the mansion, waiting for Daniela to join him. Ian wore a stylish white suit and tie combination, picked out by Janice to emphasize his built and presence. Benny Greaves waited beside him, dressed in a black chauffeur suit.

Benny would serve as their driver, something which Ian had tried to argue Benny out of, but the warrior ultimately insisted on. Ian had relented in the end. Having fought with Benny on Einstein, he had utmost trust in the small man’s ability and loyalty.

The two made small talk as they waited, discussing the weather and what topics might come up at the reception, and also what they could do for an escape plan if matters turned ugly, especially with Daniela around.

The sound of heels on a wooden surface made Ian look up instinctively. His jaw hit the ground.

Coming down the stairs was a vision of pure beauty. The woman wore a strapless red gown, with slits along her legs to show off their length. Her hair was tied up in a coif that glittered with jewels, reflecting the room’s lights.

Then she suddenly stumbled on the steps. She managed to grab hold of the staircase railings in time, but the action ruined the perfect scene. “Curse these stravag shoes!” She yelled, which brought Ian out of his daze.

He realized, quite belatedly, that it was Daniela Mattlov in the gown. I can’t believe it. What did Janice do? He swallowed hard as a sinking feeling came over him. How do I prevent a bloodbath when every man at the reception hits on her?

Benny Greaves coughed loudly, loud enough to draw Ian’s attention away from Daniela. “I’ll get the car, boss.”

Ian walked up the steps to where Daniela was massaging an ankle. “Daniela, are you all right?”

She looked up, with an annoyed expression on her face. “I will be fine… Ian. Why did Janice insist that I wear these ‘high heels’?”

Woah! Ian was surprised. She called me by name!

“It’s a tradition.” He said as he helped her up, then offered up an arm for support, which she accepted. He guided her down the stairs and out the doors, just in time to see Benny pull up in the porch with their transport, a black hovercar. Benny hopped out, and opened the passenger doors for Ian and Daniela.

Ian entered first, then Daniela. He saw a wry grin on Benny’s face as the Lieutenant ran his eyes over Daniela as she entered after him. Benny looked at Ian once, and gave him a wink. It obviously meant, “Good luck”.

“I don’t suppose Janice told you what you were getting into, huh?” Ian asked as the car started moving.

“Neg. She only told me that you needed my help, and that it necessitated my attire.”

Ian suppressed a groan. Is Janice trying to get me into trouble on purpose?

“What are you thinking about?” Daniela’s question brought him back to the conversation.

“I was thinking of possible problems at the reception. There’s a lot going on here that might take you a while to understand. Basically, you know I’m here to look for business partners, but it’s entirely possible matters might take different turn.”

“Because of who you are?”

Ian nodded. “Yes. I want you to be careful and patient. Think of this as the bidding before a battle. Do not mention Einstein, and try not to overplay your identity as a clan warrior.”

He coughed self-consciously into a hand. “Also, you might realize that what you’re wearing now makes you very, very attractive. This isn’t the clans, and there’s every chance some of the men there will be too drunk to see any sense.” He sighed. “In any case, watch yourself. If anything goes wrong, don’t look for me. Go straight for Benny, and get back to the mansion.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Is trouble likely?”

I hope not. Ian said, “I don’t know. This is new ground for me too.” He glanced out the window at the moonlit farms passing by. “Give me a mech and a battlefield, instead of the backstabbing and saber talk of the boardroom. I can cut and deal with the best of them, but…”

“You do not like it,” she said firmly, “You are a warrior. Deal with them like one.”

He chuckled softly. “If everything was as easy as it is in the clans. Just try as hard as you can, and not start any incidents, okay?” She nodded, which reassured him.

It was not a long ride. After twenty minutes, the hovercar reached the Protector’s residence, where the reception was held.

The reception was supposed to be an affair only for the top nobles and businessmen in the Taurian Concordat, a sort of semi-formal meeting where they could gather to discuss issues and make deals while having a buffet. Ian had been invited by Janice, and he had the invitation letter in his pocket. Quite obviously, nobody knew his identity yet.

Until he was announced upon his entry, of course.

There were butterflies in his stomach as they passed through several security checkpoints before Benny pulled up at the front porch. An usher opened the door for Daniela to step out. The gape on the young usher’s face the instant he saw Daniela was priceless.

Ian followed Daniela out, and he snapped his fingers once in front of the dazed usher, who was shocked out of his funk. The embarrassed usher quickly closed the car door, while Ian and Daniela walked to the doors.

As they walked up the steps, Ian could remember images from his past, when his father was still Protector, when he was still happy, when his father was still sane. Images of him waving to his father as Thomas left for work, of him greeting his father happily every evening.

Of him running away in the rain, a distraught Janice in her wheelchair on the steps, while curses from his furious father thundered in the house.

After so many years, he was back. Can I face up to the demons of my youth? He wondered.

“Are you all right?” Daniela asked him.

Ian took in a deep breath to clear his mind, then let out a long sigh. “Yes, I’m fine,” he said, “Let’s go in.”

A servant greeted them as they walked through the doors, took Ian’s invitation letter, then led them along several corridors before they were handed off to a minor official in charge of protocol. There weren’t a lot of guests in front of them, and it was soon their turn to be announced.

The official took a look at the invitation letter, and asked, “How would you like to be addressed, sir?”

He doesn’t know because there are no names stated on the letter, Ian thought. He smiled darkly as he replied, “Baron Ian Calderon.” As a scion of the Calderon family, Baron was the default title given to him. He held out another letter, one written by Janice herself, that verified his identity.

It had been a difficult decision for him to decide if he should keep a low profile, but he figured that the truth would be revealed sooner or later, and doing it on his own terms, at this event, was preferable to somebody else finding out about it later. He had told himself, nothing to hide, right?

The official looked up from his writing pad with a shock, and took a long look at Janice’s letter. He had an incredulous expression on his face, but gamely recovered his composure. “Very well, sir,” he said, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary “And your companion?”

Daniela answered for herself, “Daniela Mattlov.”

She didn’t state her rank. Not that I gave her any, Ian kicked himself mentally for that oversight. Having a rank in front of her name would have been so much better.

The protocol officer nodded as they passed him. Just as Ian walked past him, the official suddenly leaned forward and spoke into Ian’s ear. “It’s good to have you back, young sir.”

Ian turned to look at the official in surprise, then he saw the man nod again solemnly.

He resumed his walk, with Daniela’s hand on his arm, as the official announced, “I present Baron Ian Calderon and Miss Daniela Mattlov!”

The slight buzz in the room from a dozen conversations instantly disappeared as they all turned to look at Ian and Daniela in shock at hearing the Calderon name. My grand entrance, Ian thought wryly.

He walked in, keeping his stride strong and confident, conscious of the eyes on him for his identity, and the eyes on Daniela for her sheer beauty. He fixed his eyes on the far side of the room, where he could see Protector Grover Shraplen. The older man with balding hair in a noble’s attire, standing next to several white-clad Word of Blake officials, stared back, and Ian felt the temperature in the room rise several notches from the tension.

He walked up to a table, and picked up a glass of wine. He raised it in a silent toast to Shraplen, and threw his head back, draining it in a single swallow. Shraplen nodded almost imperceptibly, and the tension in the room defused as people started talking again.

Ian was very sure that he was the hot topic of the moment. He had thought over his entry very carefully, knowing the likely effect of his name. By toasting Shraplen, he had served notice of his peaceful intentions to put Shraplen at ease, which should hopefully keep him from being embroiled in any partisan politics.

Of course, his very presence would probably be enough of a magnet to those opposed to Sharplen, no matter how much he protested. I can’t think of this. Better get to my real mission, getting some industrialist to invest and provide economic opportunities for the MIB. Now, who do I talk to? He looked around, trying to get a handle on likely candidates.

Ian could distinguish between the various people in the room almost solely by their attire. Nobles wore expensive ballroom attire, while businessmen were in normal suits. Military officers provided a contrast in their blue colored dress uniforms. He could discreet glances thrown his way every now and then, with almost as many thrown at Daniela as well.

Daniela tugged on his arm. “Somebody’s coming,” she said.

Ian turned to see a smiling man in a gray suit approach him, accompanied by a woman in a military uniform.

The man immediately stuck out a hand, “I’m Milton Hawkings, pleased to meet you.” He gestured to the woman beside him, “And this is Subaltern Jenna Doe, of the Red Chasseurs.” The woman bowed in greeting.

Ian gripped Hawkings’ hand firmly, “Colonel Ian Calderon of the Mercs in Black, and this is Daniela Mattlov, my assistant.”

Milton smiled. “Not Baron now, eh?”

“No. I could have put down both my titles, but I had to pick one for the sake of brevity. I though Baron would make more of an, ah, impact.”

Hawkings raised an eyebrow, “Quite an impact, if that was what you had wanted.”

Subaltern Doe chipped in, “For a moment I thought there was going to a fight. More the pity there wasn’t. I’d have liked to see Grover get his ass handed to him for once.”

“I’m not sure I understand, Subaltern.” Ian asked warily.

“Grover’s putting us on damn too many alerts for absolutely no reason,” Jena shook her head angrily, “and pirates are taking advantage on the borders.”

“You’re a member of the Red Chasseurs, right?” Ian asked. “I thought your unit is supposed to be out in the New Colony Region?”

Jenna nodded. “Yes and no. My battalion is rotated out to Taurus for rest and refitting. With so many units watching the oh-so dangerous Davions, we’re just about the only ones left to deal with bandits and the like.”

“Pirate hunting solahma,” Daniela scoffed, “hardly tasks fitting for real warriors, quiaff?”

The subaltern frowned, ”Neg. It is a worthy task. Protecting the weaker castes is only right and proper.”

To Ian’s growing consternation, Daniela shot back, “Tasks right and proper for dezgra and chalcas. After all, their opponents are certainly such stravag scum.”

Jenna replied, “Stravag does not mean they are less capable. I have faced them in many battles, and I am not any unblooded warrior! You do not seem like a warrior yourself, dressed up like a doll!”

Ian was about to cut into the heated exchange when Milton asked quizzedly, “Huh? What does ‘unblooded’ mean? Strafe? Sola… something? Jenna, I’m completely lost about your military lingo.”

Ian added, “I didn’t know the Taurian Concordat took in clan bondsmen. Unless I’m missing something?” He raised an eyebrow in query.

Jenna’ frown faded away to be replaced by bewilderment. Her hands began to shake slightly. A worried Milton quickly stood beside her to offer his support.

“I don’t understand.” She looked down at the floor. “What came over me?”

“You were clan.” Daniela stated firmly. “Which clan were you from?”

Jenna looked up with slight panic. “I don’t know. I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“She’s doesn’t know she was.” Milton elaborated, “She was an amnesiac found wandering alone in the starport about 9 years ago, without any explicit memory that she could recall. She was taken in by the authorities, but there wasn’t any records on her at all. So she was given the name of Jenna Doe. Typical hospital misnomer.” He smiled ruefully.

His words seemed to have focused Jenna, who continued, “I was taken in by a military couple. My adoptive father was a tank commander, and he sponsored me when it was my turn to serve in the defense force. I never knew why, but it all felt so familiar.”

“Sure it did.” Milton deadpanned. “Jenna was so good that she broke her instructor’s arm on her very first day. They waived the rest of her training after she started posting unbelievable scores on the mech simulators. Now she’s the Concordat’s best mechwarrior.”

“I know what I can do, but I had no idea why. I cannot remember my past. All I can do is to face the future,” she said determinedly. “Miss Mattlov, your speech was very similar to how I sounded when the hospital taped down my responses years ago. If you are a clanner, then it follows that I’m probably one too.”

“Wait a minute, didn’t the Smoke Jaguars get wiped out around nine years ago?” Ian made a quick count, “Yup, that probably explains it.”

Milton’s eyes bugged out for an instant. “You might be right. We never thought of that. That would explain an awful lot.”

Ian looked carefully at the businessman. The concern he was showing for Jenna Doe was, he was quite sure, more than that from an ordinary friend. In a way, he thought Milton reminded him of, well, himself.

“Come with me, Subaltern,” Daniela said, “I will try to jog your memory. Ian, you had better get down to your real purpose here.”

“Is it some girl thing I’m not aware of?” Ian asked.

“Neg,” Daniela replied, “it is a clan thing. Unless you had clan training yourself, quineg?”

“Nope.” Ian sighed. “Alright, Daniela, since you seem eager to help. I’ll talk a while longer to Mister Hawkings here. Go do… whatever you need to do.”

As the two women walked off, Ian found himself staring at Daniela’s shapely posterior. I hope she remembers what I told her in the car when some fool approaches her. He tore his eyes away to look back at Milton.

“So,” Ian said, “what is it exactly that you do, Mister Hawkings?” He already knew, but it was always better to hear it from the man himself.

“Call me Milton.” He smiled. “I’m the CEO and owner of Hawkings Consortium. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

“Yes, who hasn’t?” Ian grinned. He had heard of the up and coming corporation that had grown aggressively over the past five years, shoving its way into the forefront of the Taurian Concordat economy with a variety of civilian manufacturing products that had proven to be wildly successful.

But most important to Ian was the fact that Hawkings had began producing military equipment by diversifying from its civilian products. Tanks from cars, military software from gaming software, and explosives from chemical plants. Everything from a civilian manufacturing base could be converted to military usage. Hawkings had seemed shrewd enough to recognize the vast profits from the military industry, and done exactly that.

It was a major stroke of luck for him to run into Milton Hawkings at the very beginning. Ian had already picked out the most likely people to talk to about the joint venture program, and Hawkings was on the top of his list.

And he suspected Hawkings also knew who he was already. Why else would the guy approach him so quickly after his entrance?

Milton was saying, “Yes, everybody has heard of my company. Guess it’s not difficult to miss us when we’re on the air every ten minutes with a commercial for our products.”

“If I’m not mistaken, your company recently decided to get into the military production business, right?”

Hawkings smiled, and it seemed to be the smile of a wolf to Ian, “Let’s get to the point, Colonel. I think I know what you want. Let me say what I know about you first.”

“Several months back, there was a massive expedition to the Periphery in the vicinity of the Marian Hegemony with dozens of merc units, including you, in search of lostech from the Star League. Then a few months later, you arrived on Outreach, in command of a brand new merc unit and lots of recovered tech for sale. Am I correct so far?”

Ian nodded for him to continue. No point revealing the presence of aliens. That had been one of the little factoids even the houses, with their spies, had covered up quite nicely. Nobody wanted to generate mass hysteria for aliens long dead.

Hawkings continued, “Now, everybody has heard of rumors concerning the existence of Star League manufacturing bases in the Deep Periphery. While most of these were rumors, there’s often a hidden grain of truth. And if I’m right, you’ve stumbled on one of those grains.”

Again, Ian did not add anything. It was probably a bad idea to reveal that the manufacturing base on Einstein was not even human in origin. If they could only understand how exactly to operate the machines, which Pascal Thome was having fits with, from last he heard.

“While you have the hardware, it’s useless without a labor force and an organization to operate them. You could have linked up with one of the other corporations in the Inner Sphere like General Motors, Nissan, Blackwell, Aldis, but you didn’t, because you felt your bargaining power couldn’t match up to theirs in any negotiation.”

Ian nodded, impressed by Milton’s analysis. The only problem Milton had neglected to mention was that many of those corporations had firm, centuries-old ties to the Houses in one way or another, something which he wanted to avoid.

“So to look for other companies with about equal parity as your unit, you came here to the Periphery to look for a business partner. You chose the Taurian Concordat because we have one of the most highly educated populace, even compared to the Inner Sphere, and because you still harbored strong sentiments about the nation you could have ruled.”

Ian could have done without the last bit, but the whole thing was more or less true. He finally spoke, “And since you have figured what I’m here for, I suppose I don’t have to convince you about what we’ve found, right?”

Milton laughed, “If you have indeed found a Star League manufacturing base with advanced technology,” Ian tried not to wince at the falsehood, “then this would be a business opportunity beyond comparison! Let me be the first to offer my company as a business partner, that is, if you’re willing.”

“We did find a lot of abandoned factories on the lostech world, and they’re in good shape.” Ian started walking towards a food table. “You’re right in that we don’t have the labor to crank stuff out, and that I came here to look for exactly that. Now my question to you is, what exactly can your company, and you, bring to the partnership?” Ian swiped a croissant stuffed with caviar from the table, and bit into it.

“A fair question. I think our track record speaks for itself. My people are extremely competent, and we’ve gotten this far by seizing every opportunity that came our way, with innovative products and consumer friendly ideas. I can guarantee huge profits for you and your men if you hook up with my company.”

“And everything depends on the bottom line.” Ian agreed, as he chewed a small mouthful. “But aren’t you putting too much stock into what I’m saying?”

Milton laughed, “The facts speak for themselves. Besides, there’ll be a lot to do. What I want is a verbal commitment first.”

“No problem. A verbal commitment. Now, tell me about yourself. You seem a bit young for somebody who’s steering a megacorp.”

Milton frowned, “Actually, I’m over thirty already.”

Ian laughed. “And most CEOs are in their late forties! Sorry, but you didn’t answer my question.”

“Okay,” Milton smiled, “I’m really just taking over from my parents, who built up the company from the ground up. It was up to me because, well, not even the director’s board understood many of the concepts that allowed us to be so successful.”

“Concepts?” Ian prompted for elaboration. “Care to explain?”

“Just the theories my parents discovered, or should I say, recovered from the molding textbooks my father found in the attic when he was moving house years ago. Turns out those were actually lostech of a sort, economic theories, business policies, and human resource management. My father was just an economics undergraduate at the time, and he quickly realized just how much theory had been lost. Unfortunately, when he wanted to release them to the university, his learn-by-rote professors didn’t believe him. My father got fed up, and dropped out of school along with my mom, who was his classmate. They got into a business venture with some relatives, and the rest was history.”

“But those theories, they were important, weren’t they?”

“Yes, they were,” Milton nodded, “With them, my parents could predict with some accuracy the consequences of any policy change, and how they could best take advantage of them.”

“My father was so successful that when your brother Jeffrey took over, he appointed him as his Treasury Director in charge of the Exchequer. It’s just too bad the Protector Shraplen got somebody else to be director when he took over.”

Ian picked up on the slight tinge of anger. “I take it you didn’t like it?”

“My father worked hard, and he was good at his job. The prosperity of the past few years was the result of his efforts, because his economic policies took time to have an effect. But you can see how bad the past four years had been. The economy isn’t growing as fast as it was, especially since we’re supposed to have ‘help’ from the Capellans. Trade is down with the Federated Suns, at a time when they need as many imports to help them recover, and we have plenty to export to them. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

Milton let out a long suffering sigh, “I hope you won’t be offended if I say that I don’t like Grover Shraplen very much right now. And about half the people in this room share my opinion.”

“They’re entitled to it,” Ian shrugged nonchalantly. He certainly wasn’t about to get involved, not if he could help it.

Milton looked up as if he saw someone approaching them from behind. “And I think I have monopolized your time enough for tonight,” he handed Ian a namecard,” here’s my contact details. Call me tomorrow. Good night.” He walked off, presumably to look for the women.

Finishing up the last of his food, Ian turned around slowly to see Grover Sharplen, accompanied by two men, one in a Capellan military uniform, and the other in white colored Word of Blake robes. With a bit of a surprise, Ian realized he knew those two men.

“Good evening, Baron.” Grover said, though Ian could tell easily that the man wasn’t pleased at all by his own sudden appearance. “How do you find the food tonight?”

“It is most excellent, my Lord.” Ian nodded courteously.

“Ah, let me introduce my two companions, both representatives from the Concordat’s closest allies. This is…”

“It’s been a while, Xie.” Ian cut in, offering his hand to the blond Capellan. “How’s the leg?”

Xie Xun, former of the CCAF, and now ambassador to the Taurian Concordat, shook the offered hand, and smiled in genuine pleasure. “Ah, Ian, my leg is fine. I have finally gotten used to the artificial replacement.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come in time during that last battle on Caph,” Ian said apologetically.

Xie waved off Ian’s comment. “Not your fault. The very fact that I’m still alive and in largely one piece is due to your unit.”

Ian turned to the Word of Blake Precentor next, “And you, Roger, how have you been?”

Roger Mills replied, “I’ve been very well. Obviously, you can see that I’ve been promoted.” He added smugly. “I didn’t know you were a Calderon. Quite a surprise.”

“I didn’t know you were already acquainted with them, Baron,” Grover said.

“I met them in the Chaos March.” Ian explained. “Sometimes I was trying to kill them. Sometimes I was trying to help them.”

“Hah!” Xie laughed. “You could try to kill me, but you could never beat me in a duel!”

“Yeah,” Ian grimaced as he remembered some of the battles he had against the warrior nicknamed the “Golden Lion” for his blond mane, “but that was quite long ago. I think I’ll have improved quite a bit since then. At least, I was able to beat Roger when my contract took me up against him.” He grinned.

The black haired Mills rolled his eyes. “Please don’t remind me. I almost got demoted whenever I lost.”

“I am surprised to see that none of you bear each other any real animosity.” Grover remarked. “I had thought all of you would be angry at each other.”

Mills smiled, “My Lord, when you’ve been in the Chaos March, you realize that factions and loyalties fall by the wayside, and that the only person you could trust is an honorable man, even if he might be your enemy. All three of us are men of honor. Yes, we might try to kill each other on the field of battle, but we also accept the fact that it’s the bloody nature of the times we live in that forces us to do so. Outside of the battlefield, beyond the contract, we are acquaintances, and perhaps, even friends.”

“So, Baron Calderon, why are you back here?” Grover asked.

Ian had been waiting for this question all night. Grover Shraplen was obviously trying to be polite, but Ian wasn’t fooled. It was a challenge, plain and simple. And Ian hoped, one easily answered. “It’s nothing, really. I came back on some business for my merc unit. The Mercs in Black. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

Grover’s face changed immediately on hearing the name. It went from slightly antagonizing to straight out concerned. “The unit which is currently selling lostech to the Houses?”

“Yes, that’s my unit,” Ian said, “I have not heard of any offers from the Concordat, which is surprising.”

”We’re still trying to negotiate a suitable price,” said Grover, which looked like backpedaling to Ian. “Perhaps you might be willing to lower the price…”

“Sorry, my Lord, but that is not my decision. In any case, I would be leaving once I had settled my business here. It’ll not take too long, I hope.”

“Baron Calderon, I’ll be frank with you.” Grover stated firmly, “If you are here for business, fine. But if you are here to disrupt the Taurian Concordat, then you had better be careful. Also, I think you should avoid people like Milton Hawkings and his ilk.”

Well, well, Ian thought, so Hawkings has shown his opposition to Shraplen. Perhaps Milton Hawkings has his own agenda when he wanted to talk with me. I had better watch my step. One wrong move might send Grover after me.

“Thank you for your advice, my Lord,” Ian answered carefully, “but who I associate with is my own concern, not yours. I would not dare dream of hurting the Taurian people.” If Grover took any indication of Ian’s use of the word ‘people’ instead of ‘Concordat’, he didn’t show it.

“I’m glad to hear that,” agreed Grover, a bit too heartily, “But you must agree with me, and not those idiots like Hawkings, that the Davions are to blame for all our troubles for the past few years. I fear that with their civil war over, they’ll soon turn their warmongering eyes on us.”

Ian felt like laughing at Shraplen’s stupidity, but he clamped it back. “Sorry sir, but that is just not possible right now, not with their military in shreds! The Taurian Concordat has absolutely no need to fear the Federated Suns! Not when there are enough problems to deal with here.”

“Problems like that rebellious Kithrong,” said Shraplen vehemently. “But you can never discount the Davions. They have ever been our bane, taking our worlds and killing our people…”

“That was hundreds of years ago, Protector,” Ian said quietly. “That’s all in the past. They’re no threat now.”

“That’s easy for you to say, young man,” Shraplen shook his head, “Why is it that I’m the only who sees the problem? Why can’t the Taurian people? This is all for their own good!”

Those words sent slight chills up Ian’s back as Grover continued to rant. God, maybe Janice did have a point. Grover’s losing it. He sounded just like Father. If he keeps on like this…

Ian knew he might just be forced into actions that he did not want at all.

 

Precentor Roger Mills observed the conversation quietly even as he slipped away for some more food. He kept a closer eye on Ian than on Shraplen.

It was partly because he was sure Shraplen did not need ‘minding’, and also partly because Ian’s appearance was wholly unexpected, and he wanted to take another measure of the man. Not that they haven’t met, and fought, enough times during those halcyon days in the Chaos March.

Yes, ROM intelligence had indicated that Ian Dorlacen had traveled to Taurus for a business venture, and that he was staying at the Claytons, where Janice Calderon was also staying. But the fact that ROM did not know he was a Calderon, a son of Thomas Calderon, was a real surprise. ROM was supposed to be infallible. After so many years, why didn’t they know he was a Calderon?

Which made his appearance tonight as a Calderon extremely troubling to Mills. His mind raced as he pondered the possibilities, most of which he did not like.

If his guess was correct, Ian could be angling to take over the Protectorship, which would be, well, highly inconvenient to the Word of Blake, not after they had spent so much time cultivating Grover Shraplen, which helped a lot with the recent influx of Taurian produced mechs into the Word of Blake militia, as well as gaining control of 70% of the HPGs in the Concordat, ensuring a steady flow of monies into their coffers.

Roger never did know exactly what they did to Shraplen to get his help, since his predecessor didn’t tell him, but he was grateful all the same for the ease it brought to his job of transporting more troops into the Taurian Concordat to guard their facilities, currently almost an entire pre-Tukayyid Level V in strength now.

As a True Believer, he was more than a bit worried about the growing power of the Toyamas, which was permeating the Word of Blake command structure in many ways. His superior on Terra was a Toyama. Ditto for his second in command, and about half of the staff on Taurus. In many ways, the situation made him extremely uncomfortable, though he could not place his finger on what was wrong. After all, they were all committed to Blake’s vision, right?

Ian Calderon in his revealed persona, was a new variable, one that had the potential to upset their plans, whatever those plans might be. Worse, he was a highly competent variable, and the worst part of it was that Roger liked him. They had fought side by side before, and such ties of blood weren’t forgotten so easily. If he had to order Ian’s death, in the dark and not in open battle, Roger didn’t know if he could do it.

If Ian indeed wasn’t out to supplant Shraplen, as he had said himself, then there wouldn’t be a problem for anyone. But if he was, then some form of conflict between the two in the near future was going to be likely, with Roger placing his bets on Ian. And even if Ian wasn’t out for the throne, but Grover still pissed him off with some of his by-now customary foul ups, then Roger was sure Ian wouldn’t take it lying down either, which would still lead to conflict. Well, at least one out of three possible outcomes was favorable.

This is getting better by the minute, Roger thought sourly. For a moment, he wondered if he should have taken the offer to head up the anti-guerilla task force on Terra. But he remembered refusing that job when he realized he would have to take some very questionable actions if he was to be effective.

Nothing to do, he finally decided, except to see what might happen next, and react accordingly. If anything, his knowledge of Ian Calderon might even be crucial in the days ahead.

Very well Ian Calderon, thought Roger silently, let’s see if you can handle Taurus like you did the Chaos March, my friend. I, for one, do not savor the idea of opposing you.

 

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