Book 1 - Chapter Nineteen

Chapter 19: I'm a celebrity? Get me outta here!

So, there were no dive bars in Avalon City.

For that matter, there were no quiet corner pubs in Avalon City either.

Well I mean there surely were somewhere. But in my limited time exploring Avalon City back when I first arrived I hadn't found any, nor had I found any today. Plenty of drinking establishments that looked posh indeed (half of which were closed this early in the day and the other half looking packed with far too many 'respectable' looking people), but no places that suggested you could grab a booth, a drink, some chips and some time alone.

God I missed Google maps and smartphones right now. In some ways this future was awesome. In others...

There was a thread back on Spacebattles in the day where everyone had been arguing about where the hell our 'Jetsons' cars were. About how people in the 50's and 60's had imagined a future that wasn't even close to what had actually occurred. Someone, I couldn't remember who, had made the rather profound observation that everyone in the 50s and 60s had expected a revolution in energy technology as we entered the atomic age …

But instead of portable and dense sources of energy, we had instead gotten a revolution in information technology that very very few people had foreseen.

And although Battletech had cracked fusion 'Q' in the 2020s, it had mysteriously missed a lot of the steps in computer technology my world had gone down to end up in a very different place. And while you could handwave a lot of that from the perspective of a tabletop game, from the other side of the looking glass...

Sidney and Tex from Team Banzai had spent considerable time trawling through my old uni textbooks that had 'come through' with me, under my bed. But in the end, they had just ended up with even more questions than answers around how our timelines had so wildly diverged. There was no single 'for want of a nail' moment we could find, just a lot of different choices, personalities and seeming failures to look at alternatives. RISC computing had never really become a 'thing' and general purpose processors hadn't exploded onto the scene and set the PC revolution up. Combined with some (genuinely fascinating) breakthroughs in optical processing in the USSR in the 1970s that had seemingly directed R&D down wildly different paths…

Well, here we were.

By the time of the Age of War, computer technology had stagnated into a very different paradigm. Producing custom and highly specialized computer hardware for specific tasks and leveraging big mainframe-terminal models rather than local processing. To say nothing of building to a robustness completely absent from almost all commercial electronics from my time because the stagnation didn't lend itself to planned obsolescence paradigms.

Ultimately, it seemed necessity was not always the mother of invention. Not when FASA renditioned her to a black site just over the border and firmly denied they had ever heard of her.

Really, the only good thing to come out of a week of me saying 'What the fuck?' a lot reading history books was that a very excited Sideny and Tex had been released to head off to the University of Washington on Donegal with a blank cheque from Katrina Steiner. They had big plans to build teams to adapt scientific and engineering paradigms that my textbooks had laid out to both contemporary technology and in starting from scratch. They had even invited me to come with them … but I knew my limits and had long forgotten far too much of the coursework at university that might have actually been useful to their goals.

And being brutally honest, I just wasn't intellectually on their level.

Still if nothing else, their new project had meant that they had been hundreds of light years away when Kurita had smashed into what otherwise would have been their battalion -

I inhaled sharply through my nose and held my breath for a moment as I froze on the footpath I had been somewhat aimlessly wandering down. The sudden stab of the memory coming back far too clearly to me. Watching from a distance as Team Banzai's indicators had been overrun by hostile contacts, swiftly going from green, to red, to black on my tactical display, the chaos of battle and the -

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in and out, letting the memories go. Forcing the memories to go.

Man, I really needed a drink.

Really, I just needed time out from any public recognition, nobility games, military concerns or just responsibility in general to skulk (or sulk?) for a while. I hadn't planned on getting smashed to the point of passing out or anything stupid like that; I still had enough sense to know my limits and the danger of getting sloshed in public was something I was acutely aware of.

After all, the last thing anyone needed was me running half naked down the street screaming loudly to everyone I saw that the Toaster Worshipers were going to Holy Shroud our asses again or something…

But I had damn well earned a bloody drink and some time out on my own, hadn't I? Not to mention something other than hospital food…

Well if you have John, you ain't going to find it around here I thought as I glanced around, realizing that my mindless wandering hadn't even come close to getting me out of the high-class shopping areas of Avalon Cities CBD, which seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction I traveled. All of it was open and running a normal trading day in a kind of retail defiance of the recent Kuritan attack, with lots of foot traffic as I looked around ... and then I winced internally as I noticed a kid of about seven or eight years old staring at me. He was dressed in adorable children's clothes that made him look like he was wearing a mechwarriors cooling vest and he was tugging at his distracted mother's arm and pointing at me - but I quickly sidestepped into another arcade off the main road, cutting through it and cursing under my breath.

Crap. That was the third time I had been recognized. And by a kid this time!

The first time was by an enlisted AFFS crunchie in a CMM uniform who had snapped a salute to me as I passed him on the footpath. I had returned it on reflex, but no-one on New Avalon took any notice of soldiers saluting each other and like a good soldier on duty he didn't stop to chat as we strode past each other.

Well, I suppose even in civilian clothes the odds were high that a local AFFS soldier would know who I was.

The second time was by a young woman leading what I could only describe as a 'clique' of older high school aged women, all dressed in what even I recognized as staggeringly expensive clothes and designer accessories that only a bunch of aristocrats' daughters on the capital could (or would) casually flaunt. Plus shopping bags for more of the same they were carrying as they giggled along their merry way.

Clearly, the kids were taking full advantage of the last day of all schools being shut down due to the Combine attack to do a touch of shopping and as I passed them in the middle of a pedestrian crossing my eyes incidentally met those of their leader … and in that split second I saw the sudden recognition as her eyes as we passed …

I'd kept walking without breaking stride as the traffic started to move behind me, trapping them on the far side of the busy road for now - but felt a cold itch on the back of my neck as I heard someone yell the name 'Smith!' a couple of times. Trying to look as casual as I could and resisting the strong urge to break into a run or look over my shoulder, I rounded the next corner as I reached the end of the block, before crossing the road a short distance down and entering a large shopping center at a brisk walk. I took the first escalator up a level and from there I was able to look back over the street wondering if I was just being too damn paranoid - before letting loose a profanity under my breath as the clique reappeared from around the corner, coming to a halt from what must have been an impressive bit of sprinting carrying those bags and in those stilettos.

And all of them had 31st century equivalent of mobile phones out, with attached ads-on cameras active, scanning for me like a bunch of God's damned Exterminators…

I didn't wait around and chessed it with as much forced calm and 'brisk walking' as I dared through the shopping center to its far side to exit as far away from them as possible, turning south to head towards the Albion River district … and I had made it a block before that kid had just recognized me. But inside the gleaming marble arcade looked to be a rather upscale shopping store or department store. I took a second to think before my eyes settled onto one of the boutique shops inside and I took a deep breath.

Well, if it worked for Clark Kent…

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Sunglasses? Check.

Light blue work dress shirt? Check.

Sharp looking black business trousers? Check.

Light but highly fashionable jacket over the top? Check.

Massive paper trail that even SAFE would be able to follow? Check Check and you'd better believe Check!

I had been inside the store for about twenty minutes as I went from counter to counter to put a new outfit together. I mean, at first when I had entered, the sort of floor-walker type manager busy patrolling had intercepted me smoothly and not quite looked down his nose at me to ask me 'if I needed any assistance'. All done with that polite upper class exaggerated patience that screamed 'I think you're lost friend!' and that the only assistance I needed was polite instructions to the door.

I let it wash off me though and simply told the man that I was going to need a new business casual look to change into. He of course had with only the most brief of glances at my tracksuit, asked if I had a budget range in mind …

All of which made the look on his face when I handed over my Gold-Hill Platinum Star funds card and politely told him that I was happy to spend whatever was necessary even more priceless than the piece of plastic I had flashed.

Said card could only be issued by the Davion family of New Avalon and had a credit limit on the order of me being able to walk into Achernar BattleMechs and walk out an hour later with a receipt for a brand new Phoenix Hawk. Which meant A) I had enough money on me to buy out this entire store (and the building too if I wanted) and B) I was personallyconnected to the ruling family of the Federated Suns.

The speed at which the man switched gears was actually a little bit scary as every trace of barely tolerant disdain for me behind his faux upper class hauntiness vanished in a moment and he personally saw to getting everything I needed together as fast as possible.

Still, as sickeningly obsequious as he was I couldn't fault his speed or knowledge as in a whirlwind he took me around a half dozen counters to pick up everything I needed in very quick-smart time.

So, one change of clothes later PT Gear John Smith had vanished from the streets and the considerably more slick looking 'John Doe' was strolling his way, unconcerned, through the crowds. Fitting in perfectly, if I dared say so, with the middle-upper and lower-upper class people bustling about the shopping districts of Avalon City as I wound my way down towards the Albion River. No sign of a goon squad from MIIO. So either they hadn't localized me yet, weren't even looking for me yet … or were looking, had found me, but were staying covert far beyond my ability to spot them.

Testing that, I made my way in a zig-zag towards the waterfront, doubling back once or twice and otherwise tried to use what tricks I could think of to spot any tails … and I saw nothing.

Of course, if they were there, they were undeniably going to be far better than me at this game. And if so, probably regarding my efforts like Bravo Company in Generation Kill watching in disbelief as their embedded reporter 'ran in a Serpentine fashion' when crossing a street…

On the other hand, I doubt they would have bothered following me covertly. They would probably just pull up in an unmarked car, jumped out, presented their IDs and code words before 'inviting' me to ride with them to the Davion Palace where I was going to be yelled at by someone with a hell of a lot more braid on their uniform than mine. The thought of which made me wonder again about the wisdom of going theoretically UA on everyone, even if my paper trail should hopefully be a strong enough hint of where I was and what I was doing…

Pushing that thought aside on the grounds of 'if it happens it happens', I drifted down into the waterfront district of the city as midday approached. This part of the Albion River was definitely one of the big food strips of the city. There were dozens of restaurants ranging from the 'don't even bother calling for a table unless you're working for a noble' examples high above to much more family friendly middle-class restaurants spread under them and finally what amounted to upscale fast food restaurants just back from the long linear park along the waterfront itself. And you know, it had been far too long since I had just grabbed some food and sat in a part to decompress. And happily moving down one of the numerous cobblestone laneways under the terraces to the park, I entered into the sunshine and …

Huh. This was … different?

Directly in front of the large open plaza the laneway opened onto, this chunk of the riverbank park had been lightly fenced off by crowd barriers. Inside there were easily many thousands, perhaps ten thousand or more, people facing a temporary stage of some sort. On said stage, someone was giving a speech echoing across the area about … infrastructure spending?

That made me blink and walk forward in curiosity.

There were plenty of news holocams recording too and as the person finished his speech, some people in the crowd were loudly cheering and clapping and waving … political placards while others pointedly did not…and some others just glared.

Then it finally clicked. And fascinated, I worked my way across the plaza to the park's edge to see this up close..

The core legal rights of the people of the Federated Suns were enshrined by the 'Six Liberties of the Crucis Pact'. Even if to be brutally honest on some of the most remote worlds in skid row those ideals were noted more in their 'uneven' application, on most established worlds they were seen as the pillars of society and treated as such.

The first liberty was that every citizen of the Federation could own property and land. And given the de facto serfdom that existed on some planets in the Draconis Combine and Capellan Confederation? This was actually often thought of as the most important liberty by a lot of people in the Suns. The second was the right to privacy (which was in a never ending legal battle with MIIO but still fighting the good fight) while the Third was a right 'to own weapons'.

A right that went up to and included privately owned Battlemechs. Really put the NRA into perspective.

Of course, very few non-noble people could afford Battlemechs, had the opportunity to acquire one or even had the influence to get onto the waiting lists. To say nothing of the running costs of using one and maintaining it without access to military supply chains. The lucky few commoners that did get their hot hands on one almost always got at least a Knighthood from their Baron to become the founder of a Mechwarrior House. A position to help offset the upkeep of the mech over the long term so long as they promised to bring it to the use of their liege and/or the AFFS as necessary. For a lot of troops in the AFFS, the dream of being able to claim a Battlemech as a spoil of war was their 'winning the lottery' dream - and about as likely to happen frankly as winning said lottery. So in reality, the Third Right was mostly exercised by retiring AFFS soldiers to buy out their personal issue weapons. A practice especially popular on border worlds to ensure the general population could (and would) be a pain in the neck for any hostile occupation force.

The Fourth Liberty was the right to personal liberty. That meant quite a few things, but pretty much ensured there was no slavery or serfdom in the Suns and acknowledged the right to express yourself (including a more-or-less free press). All very important of course without any doubt and blended into the Fifth Liberty; the right to expect fair treatment which formed the foundation stone for the Federated Suns judicial system and set strict limits on what the nobility could do to the commoners under their purview. Small little things like preventing arrest without charge, imprisonment without a fair trial and ensuring there were rights of appeal and judicial review - even if, again, in practice this could vary greatly depending on how developed a planet was and how close to 'Lord Humongous' the local Duke was.

But possibly the most important liberty that ensured the others was the Sixth. That all people had the right to participate meaningfully in planetary government and decision making; hence what I was watching play out in front of me.

Over the centuries that 'meaningfully participate' had mostly codified into Local Government Authorities or LGAs that were elected to every Barony. They varied from planet to planet, but almost all of them were based on what I recognized as a modified Westminster system. With the Baron or Baroness serving as a sort of neutral chamber speaker, but otherwise remaining hands off and letting the people day-to-day run their towns, cities and regions on their own. Bigger worlds like New Avalon had larger political parties existing across Barony lines, most however were pretty insular to their local region and local concerns.

It was a slightly oddball hybrid system to me, but it worked surprisingly well on most planets as it turned out. Letting the people run their own affairs and execute their own policy decisions with a good level of agility, while the nobles stayed inside their own swim lanes looking after larger planetary and interplanetary issues alongside managing their own lands, industries and tenants.

That wasn't to say there wasn't friction now and again but genuine clashesbetween the elected Governments and the nobility were something smart nobles tried very hard to avoid by staying engaged and in partnership with the people. In part because clearly spelled out in the Fifth Liberty's extended wording was the unequivocal right of the people to petition for the removal of a noble if they were abrocating their people's liberties. An appeal that could be taken all the way up the chain to the First Prince if necessary.

Implicit in that was the (unofficial but widely accepted and celebrated) 'right' of the people to engage in various kinds of direct actions against any noble who was abrogating their liberties. Starting with things like strikes (which could be surprisingly effective in getting higher attention if they impacted strategic industries, especially if a skilled workforce simply couldn't be replaced) and going so far as to provide legal precedent for the violent overthrow of a noble under extreme situations.

Such uprisings were incredibly rare though. For the most part the nobility and elected Governments were competent enough at dealing with things locally. House Davion had historically made pointed examples of nobles who had decided that the 'proles' needed to be taught a lesson - more than once they had even done so with the Davion Brigade of Guards if they really needed to drive home how displeased New Avalon was. Yet other times an Arch-Duke or even the First Prince had ordered uprisings vigorously suppressed if it was determined that a rebellion or insurrection against a noble was unjustified. Sometimes even putting the region or even the entire planet under military law of the kind newly conquered worlds were put under until law and order was fully restored and the subversives fully rooted out by intelligence and police forces.

Apparently the Capellans were big fans of trying to astroturf uprisings in this fashion on worlds the Suns had taken from them, to destabilize a world for them to march back in.

Ergo, it was considered better for everyone to sit down and behave like adults lest the 'boss' come storming in, annoyed that you distracted him from his favorite game of 'Kick the Dragon' or 'Crush the Crappy'. Generally by the local Count or Duke stepping in to mediate a settlement everyone could live with.

Avalon City was probably the most boring and stable local government area in the Federated Suns. But it was also perhaps the most hotly contested, because the local Baron just so happened to be the First Prince of said Federated Suns. And while being a representative on an LCA on most worlds was considered a prestigious job for a commoner? Those in Avalon City had more access to the First Prince than most Dukes.

And everyone involved knew it.

I listened for probably close to half an hour to various candidates all standing for election to the LGA, plenty of people like me coming up to the edge to gawk for a time before moving on. Each of the speakers seemed limited to speeches of ten minutes or so and they were clearly being delivered more to the holocameras pointed at them than the crowd. To my mild surprise none of them seemed to be giving any attention to the recent Combine attack on the planet and concern (outside of almost all of them starting off with prayers or thoughts for the troops injured and killed in it though, clearly an expected thing to do) with focus on issues like housing affordability, health care and infrastructure spending on this or that project. Often with quite different approaches.

It was actually all rather surprising and refreshingly … normal. Without any star-empire shaking concerns or issues, just a question of if it was really a good idea to dig a tunnel under this part of the city or not.

And for some reason I found that quite … heartening? That away from the 'Game of Thrones' in the Inner Sphere, the populations of planets mostly just got on with their lives-

"And you sir, do you have an opinion on the candidate you will be supporting this election?"

I blinked. Then I blinked again. Then I glanced to the side to see a holocam with a bold AVALON-PRIME logo pointed right at me and a young fashionably dressed woman pointing a microphone at me in turn and clearly waiting for an answer.

I'm never going to get that drink, am I? I thought in silent angst...

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"I have to admit I'm actually impressed" Yvonne Davion said as the news report rolled.

Again.

Seriously, why was she playing it again?

"You handled yourself at least somewhat adroitly."

I reached up to massage the bridge of my nose to try and ease the headache that was threatening to start coming out at that statement.

"You do know this is his fault for releasing my picture to the general public don't you?" I pointed out after a moment but the Princes Champion just raised an eyebrow.

"If you don't want to be recognized for doing something genuinely heroic, don't do something genuinely heroic John" she dismissed my objection with the inflection of a grandmother chiding a grandchild for being so very silly and I bit back my first reply to protest the fact that I shouldn't have had to do something so very heroic if Hanse had not been a bloody idiot trying to go mano-a-mano with Kurita instead of staying in his damn secure command post where he belonged!

I got the feeling she heard my silent yelling anyway, but if so she said nothing as she turned back to the Vid in her office and smiled.

"I have to say, you do know how to turn a phrase - I wonder which movie this speech was from?" she observed and right on que I started to cringe my way deeper and deeper into my seat trying to futilely hide from the reality as I watched myself appear on the vid screen pontificating like an egomaniac.

On a planetary Vidcast. Which, almost certainly, had spread out of this solar system already.

The little interview with the anchor had initially been just a couple of questions about how I felt about the candidates or if I had any that I supported personally. The kind of questions a reporter would ask a couple of dozen times working the crowd and their producer would then pick the most promising and interesting couple from and throw them into a clip for the 6PM news.

But just as I felt sure she was about to smile at my non answers, thank me and move on to someone else, she glanced away and reached up to her ear, touching it lightly. Clearly, her producer who was watching the live feed had 'made' me, because a split second later her eyes had suddenly bulged and she had all but shoved her microphone at me like it was a weapon and she was holding me at gunpoint with a slightly wild look in her eyes.

It was the look of a young hungry reporter knowing she had just been handed her career-making moment and was going to seize it with all her available limbs.

"Lieutenant John Smith, hero of the Battle of New Avalon!" she said on the vid - loudly enough that a lot of people had turned and done a double take in my general direction, "do you have-"

"I'm afraid I have no comment on the military operations that took place on New Avalon" I had said and I couldn't help but wince a little.

Man, did I really sound like that? What a letdown that was. I sounded like a Periphery bogan…

My attempt to disengage with an "If you'll excuse me-" had been left on the cutting room floor as the picture shifted to the woman seemingly teleporting forward to cut me off between blinks.

"Of course - but can you offer any opinion on the proposals of Candidate Ross?" she had said, waving with her other arm at the stage and I again kicked myself for not simply saying 'No comment today I'm sorry, excuse me I must be going' and instead did something that everything every episode of Yes Minister had taught me not to do.

I took the bait.

The Champion killed the vid mercifully before I had to hear my speech -again- and before the anchors could start gushing again over my eloquence, no one knowing I had cheated outrageously by quoting yet another speech from the twentieth century.

Although the line about 'Freedom's sword cuts both ways' was something I had come up with on my own on the spot -I think- and I was actually slightly proud of.

Still. In the final analysis, I should have just kept my mouth shut.

"It's a good thing you shut him down when you did" Yvonne said as she turned away from the vid to face me, her old face looking surprisingly serious and making me sit up slightly straighter in the chair across from her, in her private office deep in the Fox's Den "We didn't see Ross making this play and he could have been a pain in the neck to deal with - but you did a rather fine job of destroying his campaign with that little speech without anyone having to lift a finger. I take it another twentieth century media plagiarism?"

"It was" I admitted. Damn you Aaron Sorkin... 

"But the point is that with that one speech you obliterated any chance of this man getting into power and trying to start serious action against the Federations press. Even if they would have lodged injunctions within an hour and certainly had any laws overturned by the courts after review, it would have given the damn fool far too prominent a platform and let him position himself as the most zeal filled loyalist on the planet and off it. So, that's another thing we have you to thank for."

I frowned at that praise. Ross Rothman (so I had been belatedly briefed in the last hour) was a Davion supremacist whose speech I had (thankfully) missed at the start of the event. It wasn't terribly surprising to find a hardcore Davion supporter on New Avalon of course, but Rothman took the adulation of the ruling house in the Suns to lunatic extremes. The leader of a new cross LCA political party called 'Rising Dawn', he wasn'thappy with Hanse Davion taking a Steiner for a wife and had grumbled at length on it to his inner circle, being someone whose best friends were utterly convinced House Davion was the only hope to take the Inner Sphere by force and restore the Star League with them at their head.

Having a hateboner for Melissa had been enough to put him much more squarely on MIIOs radar (which clearly meant MIIO had informants inside his inner circle), but he hid his disquiet of her from the general public quite well. My guess is that he and people like him would have been the core of that fucking insane 'Movement of Davion Purity' that had sprung up a long time in the future.

For now at least, Rising Dawn's focus was on supporting the 'righteous war' against the Confederation to its logical conclusion and knocking them out of the picture, trying to ride the huge popular wave it was generating after Hanse had come clean on Doppelganger. But rather than encouraging people to go and do something useful to support the war effort, they thought the best thing they could do would be to push Hanse Daivon to muzzle the press from any 'defeatist propaganda'. Loudly saying that the Government should use emergency laws to put censorship in place and lock up 'disruptive influences' on New Avalon to encourage patriotism and 'true' reporting.

This had left me mildly horrified when the reporter had given me the barebones version of this plan and triggered me into blasting the concept as something that would be far more at home in the Confederation or Combine than in a state opposing them…

"But surely one sound byte from me is hardly going to stop him. All I did was give my opinion on it…" I suggested, earning a scoffed roll of eyes from the Princes Champion.

"Smith, put aside your 'I'm not worthy' complex for a minute to look at this objectively like I pay you to" she didn't quite snap, turning her attention onto me for the first time in a way that made me sit up straighter in the (admittedly rather comfortable) hotseat. And despite the fact that I wasn't in uniform, I still felt very much like a junior officer being chewed out by someone who rather distinctly outranked me. "You are the Federations Hero of the hour. The man who saved the First Prince, killed the archenemy of the Davion family who had invaded New Avalon - and did it with considerably more drama and panache then we generally see on the battlefield. Events that Hanse has been milking for propaganda value for a week now, stirring the air of mystery about you that has the media banging on my door … and then you stand up in frontof the media to defend the media like that?"

It was as Yvonne Davion tilted her head to the roof and indulged in a rare burst of almost giddy laughter that it suddenly dawned upon me that the Princes Champion wasn't annoyed at me.

No it was far worse; the Grandmother of the AFFS and Hanse Davions XO found this whole thing hilarious.

"Well I'm glad you're entertained Ma'am '' I muttered, feeling a little embarrassed at this whole clusterfuck.

All I wanted was a damn drink away from all this for one damned day...

"When you get to my age and have to run around squaring circles for Hanse Davion, you tend to take what you can get John'' she shrugged as she returned her gaze to me. "And as entertaining as watching you stumble around Avalon City like a Gods damned rookie Mechwarrior half your age who survived their first fight was..." she said - and even the brief 'you have displeased me' look was enough to make it abundantly clear she was not happy with my decision making today and force an involuntary movement of my throat; "the fact is that your political profile is only going to increase from this point forward and this is as good a launch point as any. Accordingly, it's been decided that in the short term the best we can do for you is to keep you out of the public eye while giving you something of a crash course in the more functional side of Inner Sphere politics under an experienced tutor, who can try to bring you up to speed on the basics any noble should have known by eighteen."

"But I'm not a noble-" I started to object and then promptly closed my mouth at the look she was giving me that mixed exasperation, annoyance and authority in a way that I strongly suspected had broken far more powerful people than I.

"Smith. When you spend all day with the people at the highest level making political decisions and are going on public TV to slap down well-intentioned tyrants, you're playing in our sandbox so stop kicking sand in my face" she laid it out bluntly. "And Hanse, the Ladies Steiner and myself - among others - would rather you didn't embarrass us by making people think that we'd promoted a Periphery Pirate to rule a planet when the time comes."

Oh come on, my table manners weren't that bad … were they? Wait, was that why Melissa couldn't stop giggling when I was breaking my bread roll that night? For fucks sake…

"But chin up Lieutenant, we've decided that if you want some time away from New Avalon and the media spotlight, then that is the very least we can give you. Especially if you are feeling so overwhelmed right now that you feel the best thing to do is trying to go wandering off into the city without leaving so much as a message…"

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The first thing I saw as I walked into the lounge was Hanse Davion and Melissa Steiner kissing.

It was awkward. In that 'you want to look everywhere but here but there isn't really anything else to look at' kind of way. Back in the 21st century we all got around it by yanking out smartphones and looking utterly engrossed in some kind of important work…

Or cat video.

But as backwards engineering work on my iPhone and iPad were apparently still at the 'how the FUCK is this even possible' level, that was not an option I had. And unzipping my bag to pull out my clunky noteputer would have probably been a little too conspicuous.

So I just sort of stood there awkwardly in the corner of the Royal Lounge as Hanse Davion and Melissa Steiner stood at the door to the boarding ramp on the other side of the room and kissed each other. Then broke apart to talk a bit in a low volume I couldn't hear ... then kissed some more.

This kept looping for some time.

They were so sickeningly affectionate, part of me wanted to roll my eyes. But the greater part of me couldn't help but feel happy for the two of them. Clearly, as she had said to me back on Tharkad, Melissa wanted this marriage to work - and so did Hanse. Both of them did and as far more than a simple political match for a dynastic union. They wanted a partnership and they were making this a partnership at every level.

But now they were going to be wrenched apart - for at least a year, probably longer. It was a harsh truth that Hanse wouldn't be there when she gave birth to their child and I had little doubt that it was the reason the two of them were seemingly so reluctant to let go of each other right now. Demands of state meant that Hanse wouldn't be there to support Melissa and Melissa wouldn't have Hanse there to stand by her at this very personal moment for both of them and their family.

But rather than scream at the unfairness of the universe, the two simply made every last second count now in the little free time they had been able to scrape together in what had been a very busy day.

And a very somber one too.

Today had been the funeral service for those members of the AFFS killed in action defending New Avalon. Over three hundred coffins had been laid out down the nave of the great Notre Dame Cathedral in ranks of twelve - with many coffins I knew to be empty because the soldiers they represented hadn't left a body to recover.

The conventional and aerospace wings in particular had entire squadrons worth of empty boxes standing as mute testimony to what happened when your fighter disintegrated in low orbit or plowed into the ground at Mach 1.

The Coffins had been loaded onto a line of ceremonial converted APCs after the service, the 31st century equivalent of the gun carriage. Then when fully loaded, the convoy had set off. Slowly winding its way through Avalon City past respectful crowds until they had left and accelerated down a highway outside for the massive military cemetery in the foothills of the mountains to the west of the city.

Luckily I hadn't had to attend that part of the service and I had spent the afternoon packing silently, while Hanse, Morgan, Yvonne Davion, BB; pretty much everyone of note bar Melissa whose presence was still top secret, had concluded the ceremonies there. Laying to rest the first troops who had defended New Avalon from the invasion of a foreign power since the founding of the Federated Suns.

And now, several hours later as the sun dipped below the horizon and twilight appropriately fell across this part of the planet, I found myself here. Standing in the starport lounge as Hanse, who had just returned from the ceremonies still in his dress uniform, arrived just in time to say goodbye to his wife.

Not that the dropship would have dared launch without letting him say goodbye of course.

Glancing around I headed to the comfortable looking chair on the other side of the room from the gangway to give them as much space as possible, pulling out the copy of today's New Avalon Herald from the pile of publications on the little side table, wincing a little as I flipped again to page 4 … and the editorial praising me written by the owner of the paper.

The press hadn't wasted any time, that was for sure.

The 4th estate had been in a fight with Ross Rothman for more or less the entire 4th Succession War. He was still a bit of a fringe loon but, worryingly to some people, he had gathered enough of a fringe to be someone who couldn't simply be ignored.

And if he had somehow managed to gain an LGA seat, that would have given him far too visible a platform. Not to mention access to Hanse Davion himself.

Enter John Smith.

Unsurprisingly, the Press had wasted no time after my stupid damn speech waving me furiously like a war banner to support their position. The powers that be hadn't lifted a finger to discourage it either and almost overnight, the pain in the ass was rendered about as politically viable on New Avalon as Romano Liao…at least for now.

And I'm sure I'd just made another enemy there with the man. But honestly, compared to the enemies I already had? He'd keep.

Sighing, I flipped the paper closed and quite deliberately dropped it on the top of this months 'Sunburst' magazine; a more formal publication that had come out only a few days after the DCMS assault. Its front cover had that damn gunshot picture of Sovereign blowing up with bold text across it asking the question 'Who is John Smith?'.

Spoiler alert - they were waaaaay off the mark with their answers. And I couldn't help but wonder if Hanse had had these particular publications put in place to send me some kind of message…but buggered if I knew what it might be.

There was the sound of a hatch opening and I glanced up to just catch Melissa as she vanished through and up the gangway to the waiting dropship. Hanse watched her all the way up until I heard the distant sound of an airlock cycling on the far end, at which point he seemed to subtlety slump in on himself, staring up the ramp with a face full of very rare unguarded emotions. I politely glanced away from him until an eventual clearing of a throat drew me back to find Hanse waving me over.

"John!" Hanse Davion greeted me with a smile, gesturing to me to have a seat at the main coffee table and lounge, even as another gesture sent his bodyguards out of the room to leave us alone. "I'm sorry that the first time we've been able to really talk since you woke up is when you're about to leave" he apologized as we both took our seats, the Prince spinning around a secure briefcase he had on the table and starting the process of opening it. "So if you want to get any critiques of my decisions during the NAIS engagement off your chest, now is probably the only chance you'll get for a while."

I raised an eyebrow at that invitation as I settled into the soft chair - but he seemed entirely serious at the offer.

And it was tempting, don't get me wrong.

But I wasn't the kind of guy to kick a friend when he was down and so just let a bit of a huff of air out through my nose before speaking up.

"I'm sure Melissa -and Ardan- already made my concerns crystal clear" I said instead, surprising even myself with my tact. "But with that said … if one of my family members had been gunned down by the man, I can hardly say I wouldn't have been awfully tempted to do exactly what you did."

"Kind of you to say it, but I'm supposed to be smarter than that" Hanse surprised me by refusing to take the offered out. I saw Yorinagas challenge and the trap, but thought that I was fast and smart enough to turn it on him and so never bothered to look for the deeper trap. A part of me has dreamed for years of facing my brother's killer, unit to unit and man to man … and in every way that mattered, Yorinaga beatme" he admitted - and I could see how much that admission grated on him.

"And when Akira shot out my knee? I'll admit I thought it was all over. All I could think about as I crashed to the ground was Melissa and my child - and how she would have to tell them that the reason they never knew me was because I had broken my promise to her, out of sheer bloody hubris..."

His voice trailed off before his gaze turned back to me and his expression shifted to a small, tight smile, but one with something in it I couldn't place.

"And then, a rather booming voice decreed 'We will find another way!' and I watched - in no small amount of disbelief I must say - as you of all people crashed into Yorinaga seconds before your reactor detonated. And in that moment, when I thought you had given perhaps the only thing you had left to give me? To sacrifice your life to stop me moving my date of death forward twenty years?"

His voice trailed off into silence but his gaze remained fixed on me as the wry smile vanished, mutating to an intensely focused look that left me a little uncomfortable.

I cleared my throat.

"Luckily, that's why God invented the ejection seat-" I tried to be a bit glib, but Hanse cut me off.

"John…" Hanse said with a flat tone and expression, suggesting he was about to admonish me before he took a breath and let it out with a bit of a huff, leaving back into the lounge and regarding me …

"I've been a witness to many acts of courage in my service with the AFFS" he mulled after a moment. "Far too many of them have been the end result of people getting injured or dying protecting me. But you? You've always existed outside that bubble John. You are not the product, if you'll forgive my words, of the lifetime of indoctrination that comes from living inside the Federation - nor someone who has worked your way through the AFFS into the Royal Brigade with its selective pressures for fanaticism towards House Davion. You have perhaps the most unique perspective on me - on everyone - in the Galaxy. So, if you'll indulge me - and please don't take this in any way an insult to what you accomplished … why did you do something so incredibly risky to save my life?"

I let my eyes lift to the ceiling in contemplation for a time before meeting his waiting gaze.

"I wasn't lying to you back in your office on that first day abou how I wanted to make sure the Federated Commonwealth succeeded" I finally said. "And to do that, I needed you alive - that's what I was telling myself every time I did something incredibly stupid charging after you. But beyond that … I don't have very many friends, Hanse" I admitted, tactly leaving out the fact that after this battle, I lost a sizable number of them, pushing past the clenching that brought on. "And the thought of having to tell Melissa that I had failed to keep you alive…"

I trailed off at that, trying to not let it show just how much that horrible possibility had churned in my head through the fight, forcing a wry smile on my face.

"But honestly, at the moment? I didn't 'think'" I finally admitted the truth. "I just … acted. I saw Yorinaga was about to kill you and the only way I could stop him was by doing what I ultimately did."

Hanse took it all in calmly, running a hand on his chin thoughtfully as he regarded me with a penetrating look.

"Melissa is of the opinion that - somehow- she'd ordered you to keep me safe out there, before we deployed - and that you took that as an order driving you to a near suicidal conclusion" he said, his tone now more one delivering a statement than a question and I narrowed my eyes slightly.

"She was terrified that she might lose you, even if she would never show that to you because it might distract you from what you were about to get into" I replied somewhat bluntly, getting a slight widening of his eyes - but he didn't interrupt me. "It wasn't so much that she ordered me to do anything though as … well, as I could read it in the look she gave me. And I just couldn't stand the idea of letting her down by standing by as the father of her child got himself killed. But order me?"

I actually snorted a little at that, shaking my head firmly.

"No. She certainly didn't order me to throw myself atop Kurita and blow my reactor if that's what you mean."

Hanse processed that for a time.

"She at least seems to feel that it is the case" he finally pointed out and I fought the urge to roll my eyes (I think with only partial success) as it finally clicked why Melissa had been unavailable today when I went looking for her after the funeral. It was the first time I had had a chance to catch up directly since the battle, but her staff had made it clear she was busy in a way that said clearly to me she didn't want to see me ,even though we were going to be spending months together after today…

"It took the combined efforts of Kym Sorenson, Morgan and Yvonne to stop her charging right down to the NAIS when word came through that you had been found unconscious and were being rushed to medical" Hanse continued frankly. "I think … I honestly think that Melissa, for those minutes between your Mech blowing up and you being found, thought you had died. Sacrificed yourself to save my life. And honestly John? I can appreciate how that must have felt for her, because he only other time I've felt like that in my Mech watching yours blow up, was when Dana died,"

That admission brought my thought process to an abrupt stop like a tank locking its treads.

Hanse Davion never talked about Dana Stephenson.

Period.

As much as he clearly adored Melissa, no-one (least of all her) doubted that his first love would never fade from his memory … or that her death at Halstead Station in front of his eyes had forever changed Hanse Davion.

And for him to even talk about my actions in that context-

"So much of what you have done has gone unrewarded, but not unremarked" Hanse continued. "Even ignoring Helm and everything on that level, you've been an incredibly good friend to my family. And seeing you almost die like that…" his voice trailed off and for a brief moment he almost looked to be fighting to keep his composure.

Almost.

"So" he continued after the moment had passed. "I owe you my life - and the people of the Federated Suns owe you their future, even more than they already did. And I'll tell you bluntly, it both vexes and outright shames me that in order to even begin to reward you as you deserve given everything you have done even before this battle, you first had to go and take actions that, in-of-themselves, need to be seriously acknowledged and rewarded. Nonetheless, it is an opportunity and I intend to take full advantage of it."

I managed to rally enough to clear my throat once more. "Well, I don't think that is nec-"

"Don't even try to start that crap on me" Hanse said, cutting my objection off with a look that shut me up faster than a Darth Vader force choke. "Not unless, of course, you want me to tell Dean Davion to give back his Federated Suns Star?"

I barely bit back my first instinct which was to snap that 'that's different!' at him.

Because it was an obvious trap from the raised eyebrow all but daring me to say it!

DD on Sakhara -with far less to work with and probable death guaranteed one way or the other- had pulled his lance of cadets together brilliantly. They had suckered Yoreinga Kurita's bodyguards out of position just enough to give him a clear run from the side, launching into a Hatchetman swinging DFA attack that he had come agonizingly close to pulling it off. Kurita barely reacting in time to Alpha-Strike him in mid-air and deflect the attack.

DD's courage and thinking on his feet in a chaotic curbstomp of a battle just as bad as what Team Banzai and the Cadet battalion had gone through here absolutely deserved the medal he had been awarded (or would be awarded when he and the survivors finished recovering on Robinson and were transferred to New Avalon).

But my attack? Well, that was a completely different thing.

I mean sure it was an incredibly high risk charge at Yoreinga Kurita to take him out using my Mech as a walking talking nuke reactor and all that. But … that was still different.

Very different!

…

The silence lasted probably at least thirty awkward seconds, maybe even a minute before Hanse leaned forward in his seat, his arms resting on his legs as he regarded me very carefully.

"John, Have you ever heard of 'imposter syndrome'?"

"Um …no?" I admitted honestly, blinking as I found myself a little put off at the sudden change of topic. "Is it something to do with the Doppelganger thing?"

He shook his head lightly but didn't break his gaze.

"Not at all. No, it's something far more insidious I'm afraid. Consider a person who is being praised for great deeds or achievements that they clearly and objectively accomplished … but the person is convinced that they only did so through luck and chance. Irrespective of reality, that is how they feel. And as they are feted by many or their peers or even the wider community for their accomplishments, which again, are quite real? They become increasingly convinced they are simply an imposter who got incredibly lucky at the right place and right time."

He paused then, tilting his head slightly with a challenging raised eyebrow. "Sound familiar?"

I worked my jaw a little behind a closed mouth at the not terribly subtle implication.

"Perhaps a little, but I don't think I'm quite there yet," I said slightly stiffly, earning a ghost of a smirk as he now leaned back again into the plush chair.

"You? Oh no, I was talking about me John" he corrected, first making me annoyed as I realized he had tricked me out of the confession-

Then double taking as the conversation suddenly took a 90 degree turn as I processed what he had just said.

Him?!

"First time was back as a battalion commander, '' he continued past my somewhat shocked expression, his tone introspective and his gaze focusing on the other side of the room - or more specifically I supposed, into the past. "As I got into real combat, I found myself getting bombarded with praise from above and below, with everyone convinced I was some kind of tactical genius par excellence. People started to call me 'The Fox' as I kept winning in the most unorthodox ways - at least as everyone else saw it. But in my mind? I was convinced I was just making it up as I went. That when our battle plan fell apart, as it always did, I was just luckily making the right orders at the right time and somehow we came out victors. But even as I got more and more praise, I became increasingly sure that my luck was inevitably going to fail and one day, I'd give the wrong random orders. And a great many people who trusted me were going to be slaughtered."

I wasn't even trying to hide my surprise verging on shock at this whole revelation.

Hanse Davion was a man who had pretty much defined the word 'implacable' in Battletech. Had defined the phrase 'magnificent bastard' in Battletech. Evenmy outside-context-problem crashing into his life? After the initial impact, he had simply rolled with and turned my existence to his considerable advantage.

To hear him speak like this was…

"In the end it was Dana who managed to get through to me" he continued as I sat there, my jaw working silently at this revelation, his tone turning wistful. "She made me understand and accept that it wasn't luck - it was talent. That I had a natural skill at reading the chaos of a battlefield in motion. More than even much more experienced officers, I found I was able to anticipate and shape it to my will and I had to embrace that, not deny it. Then" he added with a bit of a laugh and shake of his head, "she loudly pointed out that I was a bloody idiot if I thought I could keep fighting the way I was, because my command style pushed right up into micro-management that couldn't possibly work beyond the Battalion level. And with her help, I learned to be a lot more conventional in my thinking where I needed to be … while also trusting my instincts to guide them as I needed to. Not an easy balance to maintain, but thanks to her, I eventually more or less figured it out."

"A good lesson for a future First Prince" I suggested carefully, still feeling a little wide eyed at Hanse Davions admission … but that tentative offering simply brought me a sardonic snort.

"You would think so … but no," he grimaced. "Because when I ascended to the Throne after Ian died, with everyone looking to me to lead the realm in the chaos? In all honesty, I felt like the biggest imposter in my life. Something that Michael" - and there was an edge on that name I had never heard that made me shiver as Hanse let it slip for just a heartbeat how deep his feelings towards his rat of a brother-in-law ran - "I found out later was doing his very best to encourage, in various ways. So when the updated intel about Halstead Station arrived later that year? I, like a young fool, did exactly what I had quietly criticized my big brother for and ran back to the sound of the guns. Leaving behind the job I felt like an imposter towards; choosing the one thing I had always been good at instead."

I kept my mouth firmly shut this time.

"Dana paid the price for me being somewhere I had no business being, doing something I had no business doing" he said quietly before now his gaze focused back on me and he took a deep clearing breath as he dragged himself back to the here and now.

"And since then, I've tried to live in a way that would have been the way she wanted me to live. Which means not dismissing who I am or what I can do for the Federated Suns as mere luck or flukes and listening to my instincts politically that have served me well for all these years. And right now those instincts are telling me that you know what you did on the battlefield was far beyond the call of duty. Far beyond the expectations set by people who have superior objectivity on these matters than you do. So, while I'm not asking you to be a raging egomaniac about it, I am asking you to show maturity and not cheapen the great efforts of other people by dismissing your own."

"How so?" I asked, slightly nonplussed by the man drilling past my reflexive denial over my actions, the steel in his gaze directed at me unyielding.

"Your humility around your accomplishments is refreshing John. Truely, compared to any number of the ego-cases I've met over the years" he noted. "But it is also problematic to the good order and morale of the AFFS if taken too far. Even setting aside your own feelings for a moment, you have set a highly visible benchmark to the officers and troops across the AFFS of what a soldier goes above and beyond the call on the battlefield - but only if it is acknowledged as such. Because" he added, his tone turning very serious, "if you go the other way? If you wave off what you did as 'nothing', especially with your profile? The only impact you will have is to denigrate the achievements of soldiers who should be rightfully acknowledged, just like Dean, will look at what they did, dismiss it as less than what you did and take exactly the wrong lesson away. And that is not just corosieve to morale, it is also downright dangerous to set expectations for courage at a suicidal level for the troops."

I bit my lip as I considered that statement, a little perturbed. The idea that people like Dean across the Federation being effectively diminished in their actions because they took their cue from medownplaying my actions?

That … was not something I had ever wanted.

Would ever want.

Men and women who had risked - and often lost - limb and life by screwing up their courage in the face of terrible and horrifying situations to tip the battle in our favor through some action above and beyond…

"Okay. Okay, I get it" I finally agreed, holding up my hands in a sort of surrender to the First Prince, huffing out a breath and shaking my head a little as I suddenly wondered exactly how I had gotten into this mess in the first place in my head. "It's been a long week. Don't expect me to start bragging like a damn Solaris Champion about it, but, I accept the point you're making of calibrating expectations. And I also accept" I added after a moment when it looked like he was about to speak, taking a deep breath and forcing myself to speak the truth, "that objectively I'm not in a position to judge my actions as a peer on the battlefield. Not compared to people like you, when I have a grand total of one battle under my belt. And so I'll have to trust you that whatever comes out of this will be … " I fished around for a word before deciding on "appropriate to the rest of the AFFS too."

"Excellent. I'm glad we got that sorted out" Hanse nodded as he reached into his briefcase and pulled out a folder, his mood going all-business again. "Ideally, to acknowledge your efforts I would start with a new Battlemech. While I am quiteaware of how you view a 'Mech - and that speech about having to be enough without one was brilliant I must say - the people of the Federation and the Inner Sphere will not see it that way. Replacing 'Sovereign' would be the absolute leastexpected of me after you sacrificed it to save my life - which, in turn, explains all of this" he said, handing over the first folder from his pile.

I accepted the offered folder cautiously and opened it, finding a sheaf of papers inside. All the kind of quality textured paper used on the most official documents with impressive seals embossed into them. The first of them being the logo of … huh.

Kaelon Industries.

Yes, it was a letter from Kallon Weapons Industries - no, from the CEO of Kallon directly to the First Prince. Lots of kudos to Hanse for defending his capital, his thanks for protecting the employees of Kallon stationed on New Avalon, bla bla bla … hang on-

Duke Roderick FaCrimeia wanted to give me a Battlemech?!

I stopped, focused and re-read it a bit more carefully …

Nope, that was exactly what it said.

Granted, my choice of a Jaggermech or Rifleman (which I would have made jokes about being punished with back on the tabletop) … but I was just being a 'Mech snob there; it was inarguably an absurdly generous offer.

Battlemechs were paid for years in advance with waiting lists stretching years beyond that - you didn't just call up an Amazon fulfillment center and have a war machine delivered to your door the next business day. Giving one to me on the fly meant a lot of people would be bumped back a slot on a list somewhere, probably each getting a few C-Bills off the price in compensation.

True, skim-reading through the lines it was clear enough that in return for a free shiny new Battlemech for the Hero of the Hour, they expected-without-explicitly-saying-it that I would accept delivery in front of as many cameras as they could arrange and not quite give a hearty endorsement of their fine machine. But flipping through the papers, it seemed that every major Mech manufacturer in the Federated Suns was offering their own premium wares to replace my obliterated ride in the same way. Independence Weaponry, General Motors, Achernar, Norse BattleMech Works?

"I don't suppose politely rejecting all the offers on the grounds that I don't need a Mech right now would actually work, would it?" I finally asked as I looked up and Hanse rolled his eyes - yes, he actually rolled his eyes - to the ceiling for a moment.

"You must be completely impossible to buy a Christmas present for" he muttered before shaking his head and returning his gaze back to me. "In any event, I just wanted you to understand clearly the wider expectations growing around you and your new profile. Because as it just so happens, you already have a new Battlemech. Bought and paid for and on the way from a friend of yours. So we'll release a statement that you are honored and humbled by the offers but that you have already had a Battlemech before their offers came in."

I blinked a little at that in confusion. Certainly there were any number of people I counted as a friend -or at least a colleague or 'friendly' superior- for whom getting me a Battlemech would be a relatively casual exercise of their power, even in this day and age.

But none of them were people that Hanse would feel the need to obfuscate around their identities like this...

"A … friend?" I prodded.

"Well, friendly perhaps" he shrugged, smirking a little. "It should get delivered to you en-route to Tharkad."

"Riiiiight..." I said in my best Doctor Evil way before closing the folder and handing it back, half convinced that whatever this was all about would have to be mostly for Hanse Davions personal amusement.

"And in any event, as vexing as it remains to just give you a pat on the head and tell you to have fun on your little trip, I'm content to wait until the end of the war and reward you with the other heroes, to let you slip out of the front pages for now. But make no mistake John, it is coming" he said, his tone clear that there was not going to be any escaping having a Sunburst pinned on me or something.

But I at least had the sense to just nod in agreement now.

"So I'm going with Melissa to keep out of the line of sight of the press for a while?" I redirected the conversation tactfully, to confirm the whole plan that had been arranged for me (not by me, but for me).

"Only in part. Mostly, she and I hope that working with her on the trip will start to give you a grounding in the things you'll need to know about the neo-feudal system on a day-to-day basis to be able to operate within it as a future peer. But yes, there should be a few other things coming up that will divert the press off you for a while presuming you can keep your head down. Mel and I recorded an interview with Avalon Prime the day before you woke up. It's under embargo until about the time your ship will jump out, but once it goes live you can expect interest in you to drop right off."

I nodded back in agreement. If there was anything that would suck the attention from me in an instant, it would be a Royal Pregnancy.

I mean, the revelation that the future Archon-Prince was on the way would be enough of a shockwave across both sides of the Commonwealth in of itself. But add to that the revelation that Melissa had been on New Avalon the whole time and had just left on her way back to Tharkad?

"And If we're on schedule, Micahel should be having his heroic death about when you reach-"

"Hang on, Michaels what?" I asked as I looked up sharply and refocused immediately on that statement, wondering if I had heard correctly.

Hanse could only possibly mean Micahel Hasek-Davion and the last I had heard from Morgan had been that he was still in secret DMI custody at a secure 'estate' about two hundred klicks from here.

Hanse simply tilted his head slightly as if in consideration for answering that (which was bullshit, he wouldn't have mentioned it if he didn't intend to tell me) before finally leaning back and gathering his hands in his lap, regarding me for a moment before nodding.

"He's going in with the 5th Syrtis Fusiliers to Sarna'' Hanse finally admitted and I felt my face turn incredulous, all other concerns pushed to the side as I took in that revelation.

"He's - Sarna?" I echoed stupidly and Hanse just nodded as I resisted the urge to ask him if he had lost his mind-

"No I haven't lost my mind," Hanse assured me, proving yet again I was pretty much an open book to the man as his own gaze now narrowed, but seemingly looking at something distant beyond the room's polished ferrocrete wall. "When we confronted him with the evidence and the implication we were still getting even more in - thanks to Count Vitios spilling - I offered him a straight choice. A veryconclusive high treason trial that would damage the Hasek family enormously, or, he could lead the 5th into Sarna and die a hero. In return, I'd spin his treason posthumously as just another part of RAT. A game the two of us played to feed false intelligence to Maximilian. But Micahel wanted to make a personal contribution now and so led his best men into the fight while Morgan 'minded the store' on New Sytris…"

"...and he tragically died to see it through, a great hero of the Federation" I finished the thought, feeling a little disquieted at the revelation, looking away as I bit my lip, wondering why the idea made me feel so...dirty?

I mean whatever reasons and motives Micahel originally held that had slowly led him down that slippery sunken cost slope called treason, Morgan himself had -

God I suddenly thought feeling a little disquieted as I glanced back at Hanse.

"Morgan…" I prodded carefully and something ugly - or perhaps pained? - flashed behind Hanse's eyes for an instant.

"He doesn't know, but he'll surely figure it out" Hanse admitted with a clear weight in his voice. "I let Micahel record a video-disk for Morgan that I promised I'd deliver to him unedited once he was gone. I shipped it off to Ardan, he'll hand it to Morgan at the appropriate time."

I felt a pang that I wouldn't be there for Morgan at such a moment in his life because I knew despite everything, he'd take it hard.

The rift between Morgan and Micahel had been there even before Morgan had been 'invited' by Hanse to New Avalon - and hell, it had probably been beyond repair by the time I had crash landed through hyperspace. It was a product of Michaels increasing paranoia over the years as he oscillated between seeing his son as either his pride and joy, or a pawn on his board in the treason game he played with Hanse - and Michael hadn't really tried to hide his growing resentment as the 'pawn' kept walking off its square to go and do its own thing.

Morgan himself had confided in me that he had never really understood where his fathers increasing distance and coldness came from until Hanse had brought him in on everything after my arrival. And whatever hope Morgan might have had for history to change course had crumbled the day Hanse had quietly told Morgan that his father had, just like in the original timeline, tried to flee to Sian after being 'sprung'.

Something inside Morgan had died that day. His innocence, or perhaps, his naivety?

By the time Michael had arrived on New Avalon, Morgan (after a couple of sleepless nights) had decided he needed to confront his father directly. Against Hanse's advice -but with his blessing- Morgan had done so. Because despite Morgan's - very - strong feelings of betrayal and anger for what his father had done … the truth was … Micahel Hasek-Davion was still his father.

Morgan had quietly told me later that week as he, Kym, Melissa and I had sat watching the sun set from one of Castle Davions numerous balconies that since their 'conversation' (which he had never talked about) he been unable to stop thinking about his father teaching him how to ride a bike when he was a child. The way he had gently encouraged him to keep getting back on as he fell off crying, telling him how proud he was when Morgan did keep at it and eventually with a few wobbles managed to get his bike moving in a straight line. His mind was haunted by the fierce pride and love the man had clearly held for his son. Morgan just revisited that memory over and over again as he tried to reconcile how things had come to this....

It made me feel oddly guilty for having such a 'normal' upbringing compared to the rest of the people in the room, frankly. My parents had been wonderful, loving, kind people who I missed terribly at times - and they hadn't been born into the Game of Thrones that was the Inner Sphere for each of these people where power tested them and tried to corrupt them every second of the day.

Exhaling, I turned back to face Hanse and dragged my attention back to the here and now, pushing past the personal issues to look at the big picture, coming to the obvious conclusion.

"You're pulling a Freddy Steiner" I observed flatly and Hanse nodded without the slightest hint of shame.

"He was the inspiration, yes" he conceded, "but I have no desire to waste the 5th senselessly either. Michael will be going in with the Crater Cobras and Screaming Eagles, plus an independent aerospace regiment to make sure it's not a sucide mission for the troops even if I'm not telling Michael about what is waiting for him. Archie isn't anyone to underestimate and he'll still see this as the best real chance he'll get to do damage to the AFFS. Micahel will be an irresistible target for Maximilian … especially after our joint gloating reaches Sian a week in advance of the attack."

"But what if Micahel manages to win a glorious victory and come back alive?" I asked with a frown, singling out what seemed to be a major flaw in the plan. Frederick Steiner had become a legend in-universe by leading the 10th Lyran Guards Battlemech Regiment in on a suicide mission agianst no less then five DCMS units, including the Genyosha (and I could give first hand testimony on how terrifying they were to face) under Theodore Kuritas personal command during the later phases of the Lyran campaign. Officially, it was a success, with the remains of the 10th being allowed to leave by Theodore after Frederick offered his life for theirs when they were cornered in the DCMS's burning supply depots. Freddy supposedly executed shortly afterwards by Theodore and dying a true hero of the Lyran Commonwealth.

Of course that wasn't the whole truth. Known only to a very select few, Freddy had been caught red handed plotting treason against Katrina and had been offered a choice of either a glorious death in her name to genuinely save the Lyran Commonwealth ... or a firing squad the next morning. And his attack had, frankly, been less successful than the propaganda films made out, (despite the genuine heroics the 10th had performed) in their attempts to stall Kurita. In truth, it had been the LOKI agents Katrina had secretly deployed on his jumpship who saved the entire Isle of Skye, but that was a far less compelling story, so the victory was Freddys.

Michael Hasek however …

He'd only be outnumbered 4:3 in Battlemechs and would have a significant number of supporting regiments with his RCT. Far from impossible odds, especially if Hanse was correcting the air power imbalance and the force stayed together.

And if he won, if he became the hero who had been ambushed by the hated Big MAC but picked up the gauntlet and managed to grind his way to victory...

Hanse Davions expression however, did not change at my question. Not one damn bit.

"He won't" he said simply and I felt a chill through my spine as Hanse told me without telling me that he had made very sure Michael was not going to make it off Sarna alive.

One way ... or the other.

"I've made it crystal clear what coming back alive would mean for him - and by extension, for Morgan" the Prince added after a moment, possibly off my reaction. "With what we have on him, including his full video confessions? He'd have no chance in any trial and he knows it, especially when it's made clear he was given the chance to die a hero to redeem himself and threw it away. A heroic death will cement the Capellan March behind Morgan. A public trial would only serve to destroy anything even remotely positive about his legacy, given the mood in the Capellan March right now."

I felt my face tighten again at that. The media 'blitz' ongoing through the Capellan March had been a hell of a surprise to me. Soft and hard manipulation and spinning at several layers and through multiple channels. It was something that had slowly felt increasingly familiar to me the more I looked into it; seeing a highly sophisticated multi-channel PR campaign that wouldn't have been out of place back on Earth. Incredibly well coordinated, professionally run and with a strong consistency of message; it was not the kind of battle I would have expected Hanse Davion to engage in against his Brother in law.

And it turned out … he hadn't.

The entire thing was Melissa's project.

Cute little Melissa 'Mel' Steiner (and despite knowing far better I still kept looking at her that way) was behind it all. Because I had forgotten that almost before she could walk Melsisa was being trained by Katrina Steiner in how to rule a Great House. And that she was hardly the kind of young woman to just sit around in her apartments all day knitting booties for her unborn child.

More than anything, I was annoyed at myself for underestimating her and still seeing her as 'the kid' more often than not.

Katherine Steiner-Davion, I knew full well, had more than once in her internal monologues noted that she had learned everything she knew about manipulating people at her mothers knees. And she had managed to take over the Federated Suns without so much as a shot fired using those skills! Now granted, The Bitch running political rings around Victor and his allies wasn't exactly an Olympic Gold Medal winning effort … but even so it was no mean feat.

Melissa however had used far more subtle methods than simply rigging public opinion polls. Going public with the Doppelganger, for example, had turned out to be her idea. Hanse had been reluctant to do so for a long time, thinking that it would make him look weak and reactive (and Maximilian strong and cunning), but Melissa had talked him around to the idea that it would only play to their advantage and Hanse had eventually bowed to his wifes instincts.

And almost overnight, the entire war had been redefined. Not just in the Federated Suns but also in the Lyran Commonwealth and even in the Free Worlds League. The Lyrans had been mixed in their reception to Davions wedding toast, mixing amusement and respect for his sheer audacity with confusion and dismay that he didn't give Melissa Dieron instead. The Combine and Confederation were screaming loudly (and ComStar News Network were re-broadcasting those clips non stop) on how it was the most unprovoked war crime yet from a man intent on seizing control of the entire Inner Sphere even if he had to wade in blood, yada yada yada.

Then Doppelganger had been exposed … and the game had shifted in an instant.

Now, no-one in the Suns was accusing Hanse of ignoring the threat of the Combine or engaging in a vanity exercise. The outraged fury directed at Maximilian unleashed by the revelation had mostly cooled … but only into an icy determination that showed no signs of diminishing. There was an almost grim will in the public to deal with the 'crazy Liaos' once and for all, no matter what it took and no matter the hardships the war was demanding economically of the Federated Suns. And there Melissa was doing magic too as she ran PR campaigns with the help of local Dukes and Counts she had swung on-side, with highly visible things to help the hardships the war had imposed on interstellar shipping. Things like local lotteries, nobles very publicly economizing and sharing from their own stores - especially with families of AFFS soldiers who had died in the war to date. Or opening up their massive estates lawns to be turned into 'victory gardens' to grow food on worlds that were tight on it. Not doing much in gross economic terms, but doing wonders to buff morale and a firm up a sense of solidarity with the troops on the front. Who also had far more embedded reporters than I remembered ever seeing in Battletech, sending reports back on this or that Liao horror uncovered…

In short; the Federated Suns had had enough of House Liaos shit and were determined to end them as a threat once and for all. But in the Capellan March especially, there was a feeling that after centuries of war there was finally a genuine, real chance for their mortal enemy to be eliminated, thanks to Hanse Davion.

And if Michael Hasek, in this environment had been exposed as having been working with Maximilian to supplant Hanse 'The Great' Davion with a fake puppet loyal to Maximilian Liao?

Given the mood, he'd probably have been lucky to make it off the planet before the mob got their hands on him and tore him limb from limb.

"Well, about Sarna..." I said to deliberately move off the topic, glancing around the room on instinct to confirm we were alone and Hanse narrowed his eyes, clearly catching my meaning.

"Quintus has a contingency in place" he said in an equally sotto voice, which spoke to how this was something beyond even forcing his Archduke to take a sucide mission to evade the hangman's noose and protect his legacy.

It was also a patently ridiculous act from both of us. This room was absolutely secure ... and yet all humans from birth to death always double checked when talking about the boogeyman.

"If they" - meaning ROM we both knew - "try to take action, they're waiting and have options to deal with it.

"They may not go for the same play - God knows I've spread enough ripples around" I warned and Hanse raised an eyebrow at me."

"Really John? That thought had not occurred to any of us" Hanse observed in a tone edging on sardonic.

I winced a little at that.

"Sorry" I said and he huffed in amusement, his attitude vanishing in a moment as he shook his head, an expression of regret passing across his face for a moment.

"No, that was unseemly of me. I know you're just being your usual fretting self worrying about every change you may have introduced into the timeline" Hanse dismissed it, turning to toss all the paperwork back that had been on the table back into the briefcase and secure it - missing me being unsure if I should feel as stung as I did.

Fretting? Really?

"So shut up, enjoy the road trip and listen to your wife as she tells me what to do?" I said instead, trying to keep the attitude out of my tone at the rebuke ... even as I wondered if he might just have a point?

"More or less" he agreed, catching my gaze and then his expression softened somewhat. "Look, leave the worrying to me John; that's what I'm paid to do. God knows you've earned the right to take some time off - even if randomly running out on the town was an atypically stupid way of going about it. The dice, so to speak, will land where they do. You've done the best you possibly can to load them for us, right now, just … just focus on the future beyond this war. You've given us more than enough of an edge to ride here. For now … far more important to me, to Katrina and to the FedCom is …Look, just ... keep an eye on Melissa for me John? She's pushing herself far too hard at the moment and you're one of the very few people she'll listen to."

"Isn't that your job now?" I didn't quite demand of him as he stood.

Hanse just offered me one of The Fox's trademark grins, patted me on the shoulder and strode towards the room's door, not bothering to answer the question with words. Just making it clear he was delegating. Great.

With a sigh, I stood, collecting my kit bag, heading for the docking tube. Next stop, Northwind