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Alternate Universe: After the 4th Succession Wars
What is things went differently after the War of 39?
by Nate Snitko |
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January 6th, 3040
New Avalon, Federated Commonwealth
Quintus Allard finished his report on the garrisoning of the few newly acquired worlds from what was now known as the war of 3039. He looked up from the datapad to see Hanse Davion, his liege, and friend, cradling his forehead in his hands wearily. The war had not gone as planned.
"You all right Hanse?" he asked, tentatively. Hanse wasn't known for his lack of temperament, but the he wasn't known for failures either.
"I'm fine. I STILL can't figure out how he beat me," Hanse replied, "We KILLED them during the 4th Succession war. He CAN'T have pulled his military together that quickly!"
Quintus kept trying to console him. "It's not as bad as you're making it out Hanse, you DID take several key worlds from the old Dieron district. Most people would hardly consider that 'failure'."
"Oh come on Quint. Let's be honest," the Prince scoffed, "The new Kanrei got the better of me. We should have taken Luthien, especially with the help of the old LCAF units. Even with the Combine suddenly coming up with all those old Star-League 'mechs."
"True. I wonder where he got those anyway?" Quintus said, "Ahh well, you've got other problems now."
"True enough," the Prince replied, "Duke Sandoval's been screaming bloody murder at being taken off the offensive. The entire Draconis March is worried that the new Commonwealth has lost it's military might."
Quintus smiled. "Then maybe we should show them otherwise."
Hanse sat bolt upright at the comment. He looked Quintus straight in the eye and began to grin as well. "You old dog, you've got an idea don't you?"
Quintus' grin grew even wider. "I might. You know that little project you cordoned off half of Kathil for?" Hanse nodded, and Quintus continued. "Well, it's ready for it's shakedown cruise."
Hanse Davion's previously sullen demeanor disappeared like fog before the morning sun. "The Prosperity? She's finished?" Quintus simply nodded his head in assent. "Ha!" the Prince crowed, "That's it! They want military might? Let's see them deny the first WarShip produced since the first Succession war!"
* * * * *
February 14th, 3040
Kathil Shipyards
Kathil, Federated Commonwealth
She was ugly. VERY ugly. A massive, poorly-designed chunk of metal, propelled by a fusion drive, moving slowly out of the clutches of the Kathil shipyards, the Prosperity was not much of a sight to behold. Despite this, she was, perhaps, the most important military development since the advent of the Battlemech. She was the first Warship to be produced by any of the Successor States since the First Succession war.
To be sure, classifying her as a WarShip wasn't saying much. She was small, barely the size of an older Star League era corvette. She was slow, barely producing enough thrust to make her faster than the average JumpShip. She was undergunned, with only a few capital-scale weapons to enforce her will upon other ships. With that said, she was now the most powerful space-borne vessel in the Successor States. And she made New Avalon News Service correspondent Ariana Christendon's heart swell with pride.
We're winning! she thought to herself. We're finally crawling out of the Dark Ages! She turned around to make sure that her crew was setting up the Tri-D equipment correctly as she stood on the observation deck of the Kathil Shipyards, Inc. orbital platform, along with other, hand-picked correspondents from throughout the Inner Sphere. Everyone seemed excited, even the ComStar News Bureau reporters, who had set their ultra-high-tech equipment up hours ago, and had been filming ever since.
The final Tri-D node snapped into place on top of it's tripod, and the cameraman signaled that they were ready to begin. The LED mounted on the primary module counted down to zero, and Ariana began her carefully rehearsed commentary on the event.
"Thanks Jay," she said, leading in from what would be an introduction by the lead anchorman, "I'm standing here on the Observation Deck here at Kathil Shipyard's orbital headquarters. Behind me, one of the greatest achievements of any Successor State since the fall of the Star League is just exiting it's dry dock. The WarShip prosperity, which you can see behind me, has just recently finished completion.
"The Prosperity is the first of it's kind, and the first WarShip ever to see production since the fall of the Star League. It is to be a test bed of new technologies for the Federated Commonwealth. First, though, the vessel will be taking her shakedown cruise, a goodwill tour of the Draconis March. She is expected to arrive at the newly liberated world of Breed in late March, as a treat for the troops who are now garrisoning that planet.
"Sister ships, such as the Stability, are to roll out of the dry docks later this year and early next year, as the Federated Commonwealth once again reminds us all of the new dawn of humanity that recovered technology will bring us all. From Kathil Shipyards, this is Ariana Christendon. Back to you Jay."
* * * * *
February 16th, 3040
Hilton Head Island
Terra
Most members of the First Circuit were simply amazed that Myndo Waterley didn't let loose into a murderous rage. There, in the holotank set in the middle of the chamber, floated the greatest technological feat presented to the public in centuries. And it didn't belong to ComStar.
"Precentor ROM, why did I not know about this before hand?" she asked in an unsettlingly even voice.
The head of ROM was a VERY unhappy man. his only solace was the truth, thin protection against the storm of Waterley's anger.
"Quite simply, Primus, because it was kept from us. No communications relating to the existence of this vessel passed through our HPGs, and we were led to believe that the area declared 'off limits' around Kathil was building a new class of transport JumpShip. We were led to believe the area was cordoned off after the last attack came close to destroying the shipyards."
"That is NOT a new class of Transport JumpShip Precentor." was the flat, monotone reply, more frightening than any tirade could have been."
"No, Primus, it is not. I apologize for my mishandling of the incident." came the hopeful apology. The Precentor made a note to get his affairs in order in case he should suffer an "accident" over this.
Primus Waterly simply stared daggers at him, and then regarded the rest of the First Circuit. "This session is adjourned. Precentor ROM, ,I am MOST disappointed in you. You WILL act to prevent future oversights. You will have a summary of the vessel's capabilities to the Precentor Martial by this after noon." She then stood up, and walked towards he private office just off the chamber.
Once inside, she began shaking with rage. How DARE they? she thought to herself, How DARE they violate the monopoly of ComStar! She sat at her desk, accessed her personal console, and began looking through her files.
She's kept these since making the rank of Precentor, long before the position of Primus would ever be attained. They contained case scenarios and strategies she believed would open her way to uniting the Inner Sphere under the banner of ComStar. None of them predicted something such as this.
She reached the bottom of her database, and opened her last-ditch scenario, "Operation: Scorpion", whereby she would use a combination of the widely-underestimated Com Guards and a shutdown of HPG services to secure the Inner Sphere. This would no longer be satisfactory. She needed a new plan.
She sat for a minute, attempting to calm herself. She thought about what ComStar could do to secure its place as the center of a new Star League. She reached over to the intercom, and paged her secretary.
"Adept?"
"Yes Primus?"
"Contact Precentor Martial Focht and relay that I wish him to begin performing training exercises with the bulk of the Com Guard forces. Let him know that these are to start immediately."
"Yes Primus."
And with that, she began to plan a new operation : Operation - Ragnarok.
* * * * *
March 3rd, 3040
Northeast Regional Training Facility (Arctic)
Siberia, Terra
Adept Zeta Martin Atwater clung to his restraints as hard as he could as the Highlander dropped back to earth. The tiny jump seat he sat in, behind the command chair of the 'mech dug into his haunches hard as 90 tons of assault battlemech hit the ground. He was NOT having fun. Up front, the Demi-Precentor was undoubtedly wearing a grin on his face at the thought of his passenger's discomfort.
As the Highlander landed, a pair of 'mechs popped out from behind a stand of trees, both wearing Lyran colors. One, a Bombardier, snapped off a quick double salvo of missiles, all of which passed harmlessly overhead, and then abruptly broke right to clear the firing arcs of the second one, a Crab, which strobed out a pair of 10 cm lasers. The Bombardier, much faster than the slow Highlander, moved at full speed to return to the cover of the tree line.
Both of the Crab's lasers connected, and, had this been a live-fire situation, would have melted almost a ton of armor from the Highlander's torso. As it was, the Demi-Precentor's battle computer registered the hits against simulated armor, and kept a tally for later use.
The Demi-Precentor returned fire when he reached a range of about 300 meters, cutting loose with a volley from his own long-ranged missile launcher, which sent out a dense cloud of smoke rockets that impacted all over the opposing Crab. Seeing the missiles hit, he triggered a shot from his gauss rifle. Martin heard a loud "whungg" from the right side of the 'mech as the weapon threw a practice round out of the barrel at a speed in excess of mach 2. The projectile streaked towards the enemy Crab, where it cracked off a simulated half-ton of armor.
"Hah!" shouted the piloting Demi-Precentor, "There! I TOLD you the magnets were out of line!"
Merely wishing that this trip were over, and not wanting to lengthen this experience any further, Martin simply answered with a noncommittal grunt and watched as the Demi-Precentor closed in on the damaged Crab, which had fallen from the damage it had taken. The Demi-Precentor triggered a second blast from his Gauss rifle, and then sent a half-dozen short-ranged missiles at the Crab, following up with a trio of 5 cm medium lasers. The lasers stripped protection from the left side, the missiles impacted all over the lower half of the 'mech, and the Gauss rifle shot connected solidly on the backward-canted lower leg of the machine, causing it's battle computer to register the loss of a leg. The machine tumbled, unable to remain standing.
The pilot crowed in victory. Martin merely shook his head. How could anyone actually ENJOY this? He gingerly rubbed where the straps of his harness had dug into his shoulders just a moment before, cursing the pilot who had forced him to ride along, simply to confirm a problem with the weaponry.
Martin looked out at the fallen Crab . This is insane, he thought to himself, when are we ever going to have to fight like this? We're ComStar, for Blake's sake. The only reason we HAVE 'mechs is to protect HPGs, right? He thought so, but then this exercise had taken on a decidedly offensive role. That worried him.
Just as he was beginning to think about the ramifications of it, he suddenly found himself rocked from the side, as the Bombardier returned to avenge it's comrade. Wishing this were over, Martin braced himself for the kidney-jarring liftoff that came as the Highlander swung back into the battle. |
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