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033. The Steiners have a frank discussion.

George Steiner-Martin, of a minor Steiner household. 

Someone who really didn't have that great of an ambition to do anything or be anything. 

No, really.

He possessed the 'standard' Steiner traits, of course. 

A deep, abiding moral code that consisted of 'family first'... and a love of education.

Other than that, however, well... 

Give him a beer, a couch, and he could relax the day away.

He did, of course, fancy himself a bit of an artist. Which, in the Lyran Commonwealth, wasn't exactly the death sentence that many thought it might be. So, long as you were moderately capable, there would be a patron of the arts willing to chip some money your way. Housing and food was provided for all members of society, and it really wasn't so bad.

As long as you weren't on the Periphery worlds of course, they had been resource starved for quite some time. At least until Eggers Agriculture had established themselves in the region.

In any case, George liked to sing, air-music actually. Played with a series of bellows, using the different sound qualities of differently pressurised or rather, dense air to accompany a repeating harp soundtrack. His voice would be carried through a complex series of chambers, arranged in such a way that he might be unrecognisable at the end. A series of keys, like a piano to change it the other way, and one's music could be anything if they wished. 

The sensation was quite eerie, like being surrounded in fog, the sounds rising and falling in pitch, left or right. As if you were surrounded, unable to escape. The vocals changing at a moments notice from happy to mournful, a squeak to a dirge.

In his opinion, he was quite good at it.

Still, he had heard the music from Eggers Music and had made his way over to Blackjack to pursue his craft, as had so many other artists. 

Honestly, it was one of the best decisions he had ever made. The first decision of note had been being born a Steiner. 

Not that he had much to do with the decision, but the spermatozoa that he had been, must have thought 'that's my future mortgage paid for' when he had won the race. 

Anyway. 

The third best decision had been to move here to Blackjack III. The second being to take up air-music in the first place, which had led to him moving here.

All paths that led to Blackjack were best decisions, in other words.

Quite seriously, the environment, the atmosphere. 

It was the kind of thing that made a man feel... almost... in-touch with the universe. 

The entire Hex they lived in was one devoted to the arts. Not just for those who practised it, but quite seriously, devoted to it. The entire area was for them to do with as they wished, and so an enormous community of artists had colonised the area. Different genres perhaps, different mindsets, different values. They had coalesced into different groups and had taken over different sections. Creating, for themselves, communities where they could express themselves freely. 

They still needed to handle food and the like. The internal hydroponics bays provided the greens and nutrient paste if they weren't picky, but the cafeterias, 'neutral' territory were left uncolonised, there to feed the mass of not-so-starving artists. They also had to do basic things like stand guard or patrolling if they weren't paying rent, or just cleaning and miscellaneous duties. As per the housing agreement, they had all signed upon entering the Hex. Truly, the most starving artists of all were the ones doing the work.

In simple terms, they had congregated together to create some of the most cutting edge music, literature, painting, dance, and more in the last year... than the Commonwealth had experienced in centuries. All the greatest, most dedicated artistic minds gathered into one place would do that. 

He himself had published several pieces under Eggers Media umbrella. Himself receiving 90% of the profits generated by his music, Eggers Media taking the rather unique stance of allowing those they signed on to take most of the money. Enough to set them apart from EarCandy, enough to have most of the artists in the Hex to sign up to the Eggers Media label.

Not that he used money to pay his rent. The 'chores' as they were known were a good way to meditate through movement. To think, to reflect... and to always have a topic to write on. The boredom of marching and standing guard did that to you. Always find inspiration where you could get it, he had told the newbies as they came in. Always making time to drop by the newly colonised 'Art Cradles' as more and more artists accepted the Eggers Media travel subsidy to get to Blackjack.

Hell, George had taken the fourth best decision of his life to sign that offer. Signing up for what looked like a scam, a free trip to Blackjack III for the purpose of the arts. Subsidised by Eggers Media, paying for the entire, tens of thousands of Kroner trip.

Weaving himself around the different artistic experiments that more resembled fluorescent vomit, an unfortunate byproduct of being into Bop-R&B. 

The hanging paper mache figures of Hohiro Kurita being impaled by a pink unicorn was... well, it could have been anyone, actually. Possibly, the baby-metal fans. 

Continuing his journey down further, into the core of his own Section... of the Citypop Level. Each Section being divided into levels for different genres or expressions of their chosen mindset. 

Here the style was more urban, large windows over facades. Of softly glowing halogen lightbulbs. Feeling, in other words, like an inner city that could exist anywhere in the Commonwealth. The feeling of entering a city for the first time had been captured in the lights, the designs, the ambient music. 

To be Citypop was to create music of an 'urban pop' feel. Typically, resembling upbeat instrumentals, and a voice crooning a ballad. Yukika was their spiritual touchstone. Created in Japan in the 1970s, it evolved into Vaporwave and Future Funk. Yukika straddled that line, not of the original, but having adopted enough of its aesthetic to be 'modern'. Which, now in 2991 had been resurrected and developed yet further, carrying on her legacy. Of taking the originals and adapting it, making it theirs. 

As with all art, Citypop changed with the times. 

He hummed out a tune, one he felt would be good to publish in a few weeks, before arriving to his own personal hex. Well, personal... and belonging to several other members of the level, who usually slept here and not much else.

Inside, he met with the two individuals he had come back here for in the first place. Iris Steiner and Katrina Steiner. 

At the age of 18 Katrina had just graduated from the Nagelring, while Iris was well into her first year at the Blackjack School of Conflict. George meanwhile... had done his mandatory years and was now playing the cool uncle, the one that listened and did not judge. 

The moment he took a step into the room, he was in the middle of an argument of some kind. The first since Katrina had arrived and tried cajoling Iris about the issue that had been bothering her.

"Katrina, you need to tell Alessandro to confirm you as heir. If I become Archon, that means that Huu will be consort! He will be master of the Entourage. It means our children will likely inherit the throne. It could destroy the Commonwealth" Iris' emphatic voice came out of the room as the airlock unsealed itself. As every hex included, an environmental locking system ensured that even if this hex was breached with chemical weapons, it wouldn't be able to harm the hexes unless they were set to permanently open.

"And why exactly would that be a bad thing? He's currently approaching the top 100 most influential individuals in the Lyran Commonwealth. It has not even been two years since he started E.G.U. The Estates General consider him, and thus, you, to be among the best choices for the role. The Archon must always be the most powerful figure in the Commonwealth. You know this." Katrina Elizabeth Steiner, cousin many times removed, was speaking. Using her patented (from what he had seen in the last week), conversation skills to calm Iris down. 

"Binding him further to House Steiner by putting his heir on the throne is how many, an alliance has been cemented. He is as close to the Archonship as possible, but it will still rest with a member of house Steiner. His allergies are a problem, but his children shouldn't be a problem." Katrina's calm voice, not giving away her thoughts at all.

"It's a bad thing because he's going to finish the Third Succession War and start the Fourth if he gets near a position of power! You haven't seen the things that I have... his mother... his..." Iris stopped, paused, took a deep breath and let it out again.

"I've had many discussions with him, just sat down and talked about what we want for the future. What he's planning. He might not realise just how much of a warmonger he is, but he's cut from the same mold as his mother. He's a genuinely good person, a nice human being, empathetic on a level I could never aspire to be. Who cares... deeply, about the Commonwealth. Nearly every moment he's awake, he's trying to improve the Commonwealth in some way. But... he can't help himself. He'll try to improve living standards, and instead build a fortress. He'll try to design a protection force for planets without armies, and instead build a personal army. He starts a music company and the music is used to incite a general revolt. He just can't help himself." Iris sounded distraught at the thought of her (soon-to-be) betrothed rising to consort of the Archon.

"It's... it would not be a good thing for the Commonwealth if he was put in a position of governmental authority, or to have his mother near the levers of power. Even if they do not charge headlong into war, a child in the future, with their genetics..." She finished, looking genuinely worried.

"You need to take the Archonship, to make sure that he can't start another Succession War. I'm not even sure he will even realise he's done it by the time it starts." The younger cousin finally finished.

Katrina finally interrupted further conversation with a raised hand. A year older than her cousin, she held a sense of authority to her person.

Perhaps it was the years of training at the Nagelring, something George had never done. He had instead gone to the Coventry Academy, only for Mechwarriors, very exclusive. Wot Wot. 

"Before we do anything. I do need to see some evidence if this is that much of a concern." Her voice was still neutral, even if her eyes were slightly wider. They had been dancing around the topic for a while now, Iris clearly feeling uncomfortable about it. But, now that it was all in the air, things should be easier.

George didn't do anything, just moved in, sat on his cot and left his body posture open. If they wanted to chat, wanted a mediator, a curveball, a grenade, he was there for them, as it should be. Eyes taking in the room as he did so. Always something new, art, music sheets, bedding. An ever evolving creative space, just like the art they created. He would not trade it for anything.

"I do have a few recordings of Katherine von Eggers' Battle Roms on my personal server. We can stream them here, so you can see just what kind of person she is when it comes to battle. Remember that her genes, her predisposition, has been passed down. Also, remember that Huu is just like that, but because he's sickly, he focuses his blood thirst into design and production. He doesn't realise it, but every movement he makes, he's preparing for war in some way." Iris warned, voice artificially deep and foreboding as her hands moved to the computer, prodding at it to play the recording. 

George motioning quite expansively for the two to take a seat. On the... um. Crumpled bedding of his bed, or the dingy chair made of cargo restraining straps and an old ammunition box he had found from somewhere. Oh, and the floor... which was covered in paint splatters. Fucking... and who was going to clean that up? He was! It was oil paints as well. Uuugh, no wonder the smell had been horrific in the last week.

Dressed as they were in casual clothing, Katrina on her way to the 3rd Arcturan Lancers. The posting she had received just after graduating from the Nagelring, as an infantry officer, of all things.

Landing here on Blackjack to address her younger cousin's concerns. 

Iris meanwhile had gone with the fashion in vogue in the Commonwealth. A thin long sleeved shirt in plain colours, matched with a large vest of much brighter pigmentation. Wide at the shoulder, it continued straight, without any fold lines down to the waist, with several buckles across the front in bright silver. 

Looking, at least partially, like armour plating had been draped over her shoulders.

George didn't understand the latest style, perhaps there were others more well... versed in the intricacies of fashion evolution that could explain why this was the current style. He had been immersed in the faded fluorescent colours of Citypop. Of horizons and deep purples and violets. None of this... garish red stuff.

In any case, they had something to watch! 

"Firstly. This is Katherine von Eggers and her Lance defending against a company of Combine Battlemechs." 

The screen in his area of the communal room flickered on, Iris having successfully connected with it and activated the streaming protocols. 

Displayed was the frontal view of the Commando, in the distance was obvious the Battlemechs seriously outweighed her own. The weapons display had three weapons. A large laser and two small lasers, a modification to the Commando 1B. On the top right the yellowed Battlemech outlines showed her lance-mates weren't in the best of shape.

George was interested. 

Like every other individual in the Inner Sphere, he had spent a great deal of time theory crafting different Battlemech loadouts. 

This one emphasised long range... and extreme short range? Where were the middle ranged systems, like keeping the medium laser? 

Why go with two small lasers? 

The voice that boomed out of the Commando, much louder than the standard speakers... unless Iris had turned the volume all the way up to mess with them. Which, given the ambient noise of a Mech in operation. One he had long grown accustomed to, wasn't the case. Everything was the same, save for the speaker volume. External speakers then, that was just a little... extra... 

"I am Katherine von Eggers, of the world, Blackjack the Third. Ennobled by Giovanni Steiner, First of his Name. Archon of the Lyran Commonwealth, rightful heir of the Star League. Who among you will receive the honour of being the first to die to my hand on this day? Name yourself, so that I may carve your epitaph into the burning carcass of your Battlemechs."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his serious cousin frown in disapproval. George felt that Katherine von Eggers may be... just a little pompous. Which Katrina did not like very much at all.

Not having met her prior to this week, George felt he had a pretty good handle on her from their interactions. Someone who was very serious, who took her responsibilities seriously, and only truly relaxed with those close to her. Who would prefer it... greatly, if everyone else was as serious as her in carrying out their duties. George she had thought was a bit of a flake, but tolerated him as family. Extended family... but family.

He counted it a serious success that she had relaxed enough to show her facial expressions around himself and Iris.

That frown turned into open-mouthed shock as the Combine leader announced his name, Minari Tatsushi, piloting an Atlas. Whereupon the Commando began to sprint forward, the skill of Katherine von Eggers evident in just how she weaved in and out of fire, despite largely travelling in a straight line. The sight of weapons coming from behind demonstrated that she wasn't alone... but seriously, charging forward as if she were in an Assault was not what Katrina or himself had thought was going to happen.

Upon getting close, she hadn't started sticking to the Atlas and trying to wear it down, while staying out of its arc of fire. As was expected in a Light versus Assault battle. Allowing the Atlas to actually make use of its rear lasers.

No.

The Commando leapt on the knee, climbing its way up past the AC/20, onto the chest and right above the iconic skull. 

From there... from there, George couldn't help it as his jaw dropped open.

The Small lasers on the left arm spoke as it drove into the skull, the right arm's large laser doing the same as it took its turn. The process repeating as fist and laser slammed into the skull repeatedly until it collapsed inwards, killing the pilot and toppling the mech over. The dripping molten metal like the Atlas' blood pouring out of a head wound.

Katrina meanwhile hadn't regained her composure, Iris looked pained.

""I am Katherine von Eggers, of the world, Blackjack the Third. Ennobled by Giovanni Steiner, First of his Name. Archon of the Lyran Commonwealth, rightful heir of the Star League. Who among you will receive the honour of being the second to die to my hand on this day? Name yourself, so that I may carve your epitaph into the burning wreck of your Battlemech."

The words bellowed forth, the Combine pilots easing out of their shock and unleashing upon her. Not accepting a duel, not very honourable of them huh. Her small speech continued as she charged forth, as if expecting this turn of events. The word burning on her lips as she climbed the Dragon closest to her.

What followed was an execution. 

Not a massacre, for that implied wild, unrestrained killing.

No, Katherine, with assistance from her lance, personally killed each of the Combine Mechwarriors with only a disabled right arm to show for it. Executing them with precision and grace.

She then proceeded to complete her promise. Engraving upon the first of the fallen machines;

'Minari Tatsushi had the honour of being the first to die to Katherine von Eggers, first of her name, on the 27th day of February of 2975 year, on Skondia. They are honoured in being slain by Katherine von Eggers, first of her name.' 

"That's not a one off thing, she does this in every battle." Iris said, sounding fatigued. 

"She is perhaps... belligerent and self-aggrandising... admittedly with the skill to back it up. But I fail to see the bloodlust you mentioned." Katrina didn't hide the mild shock in her voice.

George felt the same. Seriously, what had he just seen? Was that a human in the cockpit? How did the mech move like that!? He had seen tap dancing Battlemechs, had seen them do ballet. But never had he seen one dispatch enemies four times its mass with such... adept ferociousness.

There was a sigh. 

"I have one more video to show you then. It's a record of her reacting to a boarding operation conducted by Free Worlds League personnel in orbit. She had just raided a supply depot and killed the planetary leadership in their Orion and Thunderbolts. In the same way that she just killed those Combine Mechwarriors." 

Katrina grimaced. For a graduate of the Nagelring... such a death would be shameful in the extreme. Allowing a light mech to single handedly crush in your Assault Mech cockpit with their fists? Their family would never be able to let it down.

As did George... for a different reason.

Infantry close quarters actions were never... clean. 

In zero gravity? Worse.

In a dropship where everything was as compact as possible? 

Nightmarish.

"If this is merely her being competent..."

"No. This is definitely her being competent, but it's much more than that." 

And so, the recording started. From multiple different camera perspectives, clearly some kind of editing post-battle. Entering from the left frame, Katherine von Eggers had withdrawn a two handed axe from the armoury in preparation of the hostile boarding action. One forward facing head, with a fang underneath to hook, and a spike at the top to stab. 

A brutal weapon that one wouldn't think would be used in space. Not when space suits were thick enough to ablate much of the cutting force such a weapon would contain.

Not to mention the danger of being shot as she tried to get close.

Or at least that was what he would have liked to say. 

A mournful whistling dirge echoed from her through. Impressive vocal work George wanted to say. To be able to vibrate the vocal cords to maintain that dirge while breathing in and out as seriously impressive, let alone while moving. He had wanted to say it because in the next minute he swallowed whatever words he was going to say. The camera changed and it showed a Katherine von Eggers grinning widely. The whistling from the gaps in her teeth and she breathed in and out. Said words disappeared as she made her way to the entrance, stepping to the side of the corridor, the sounds of hostile breachers on the other side of the airlock.

Unlocking the airlock, she struck.

Watching, bile coming up his throat, as the woman he had seen occasionally in the Hex, smiling and chatting as a planetary noble would... used the zero-gravity environment to bounce her way forward. Straight into the FWL marines as they tried to push through into the suddenly open dropship airlock. Intent on boarding the vessel and killing the then-Baroness-in-waiting. To rush the marines before they were even ready... and eviscerated them. Stabbing the first through his faceplate, swinging the axe left to slice the top of another's head off.

Using the butt of the axe to send herself diving down, dodging incoming fire to instead slice at knees, stabbing into guts, and tearing the beleaguered marines apart. Blood sprayed from cut arteries. Bile and other bodily fluids joining them as the mass of panicked human flesh struggled desperately in the face of the predator in their midst.

Their panicked screams and bellows as they tried to get a bead on her, those leaving themselves open shot dead by her crew mates standing further back.

In the end, after 5 minutes, 20 Marines and FWL 12 dropship crew members were dead as Katherine and four fellow boarders had shot, stabbed and hacked their way through the jumpship, to the enemy dropship. The corridors covered in a pink mist from the tiny droplets of blood that were now clumping together to form small globules.

In time there would be a much smaller number of small bloody globes, assuming they did not splash on fabric and stain.

Their attractive force to one another, like his eyes on Katherine's face in the last frame.

A grin on her face that spoke of unrepentant, almost innocent joy. A grin turning crimson as blood splashed against the teeth. The dirge finally ending as the last FWL crew member died, an axe spike through her skull.

"Huu doesn't quite understand his genetic legacy, but the idea that any Archon inherits her thirst for blood... it is not a good future for the Commonwealth. It would be like Claudius the Cruel all over again."

Katrina finally nodded.

"Yes... I can see why that would be a problem. However, Iris. There is the serious problem of what to award your betrothed with. He has played a role that would, in the Age of War, have earned him the title of Archon fully. To not reward him would go against the fundamental ideas of the Commonwealth. Merit earns one rewards, that often comes in the form of nobility or money. To refuse this, is to break the social contract that forms the foundation of the Commonwealth." Katrina spoke with gravitas, the kind that came with one destined to greater things.

"He needs something that will bind him, if just a little bit, so he can't put so much focus on going to war. He needs something that will eat up his time on civilian and cultural issues. Ones that can't be turned to war so easily. To be consort to the Archon... myself... would just be asking for trouble. He would be master of the Entourage in the Royal Court, his power would be immense. And our children... if they inherit their grandmother's and father's bloodlust. Heimdall might resurrect itself to... remove them from the succession." Iris looked pained. Refusing to capitulate on this one point. 

"They would be my children, and we Steiners do not give up on family. Without family, we are nothing."

"Why not just make him King?" George offered, hands raised in a 'what can you do?' gesture. Breaking up this impasse with some historical trivia. The best kind of trivia. Pointing at the poster of hereditary ancient German nobility he kept above his bed. It always did interest him how sometimes, the ancients just... did things better than they did in the here and now.

Katrina and Iris froze, eyes finally turning to the poster (that he had lovingly crafted and illustrated mind you.)

"King... König. Ruler of a Kingdom, underneath the Emperor, Kaiser... Yes. I can see this working. There is the Rasalhague Kingdom, yet they have no King as of yet. I will communicate this to Uncle Alessandro, and he will, no doubt... contact the Kingdom. Perhaps, they will be willing to accept the title. But if this were to happen... the Dukes of Skye, Donegal, Tamar, the Periphery... all will require their own titles to match. Hmmmm. Perhaps a reform of the nobility is in order if we are taking inspiration from ancient Germanic nobility. Expand on great grandmother Katherine Mardsen's reforms. König for kingdoms, Kurfürst for smaller electorates..." Katrina began to pace, her words flowing out as she did so. 

George hadn't known that she knew about ancient German history, his poster just had the titles on it. He himself had only known because he had thought it a little silly they had Baron, Graf, Landgrave, Duke... and Margrave. For a realm as large as the Commonwealth, with as many people as the Commonwealth... it was a just a tiny bit silly they only had 5 ranks in the Nobility. With Duke having different connotations and meanings based on the way it was acquired. 

Instead of... well... just having a different title. 

In any case, that was one problem headed off. 

He himself shivered at the idea of a descendent of Katherine von Eggers demonstrating that level of bloodlust... while being Archon. What kind of ruin would they bring to the Inner Sphere in their search for war? 

Those were heavy thoughts. Time for something lighter.

"Right, now that we're a little more relaxed, how about some relaxation? Some vids from Solaris were just express couriered in. Apparently it's a big enough deal that everyone is getting a copy from the HPG for free, or as close to it as possible." George beamed, happy that he hadn't had to really mediate, happy that things had turned out sort of well. Tolsand Warworks had paid a truly enormous sum to get this out to everyone with a set of eyeballs. Billions of C-Bills at the very least. He could at least do them the courtesy of watching it.

"Please, just put it on." Iris said, sounding emotionally drained as she sat down for the first time since entering the room. Drained but happy, she had gotten what she wanted.

Katrina absently following along as her mind whirled about in its skull.

George meanwhile had the vid on, showing an empty arena... with a lance of Medium Mechs in the centre. 

"Welcome! This is a simulated fight demonstrating Tolsand Warworks newest product line! The Armoured Exosuit! Using research prowess from Eggers General Utility, this new exosuit has been promised to wow me, the presenter... and more importantly, you! The crowd!"

A recorded cheer filled the room. 

"This is non-lethal folks, Tolsand want their prototypes back, and we don't want bits of brain all over the walls. Like what happens when mechs jump on infantry! Even exosuit infantry! But! But Tolsand has shown us miracles before, here's to a new Exo-miracle!" 

Another recorded cheer, this one even more obvious as the stands were quite obviously near empty. 

The lonely hawkers trying to sell their products to an uninterested crowd, waiting for a bigger fight later on.

Iris meanwhile, was muttering, "oh no. He's done it again."

From the gate entered... walking suits of armour.

Well. 

Bigger. Still the same rough size of a human of course, just a little bit taller from all the armour that they were clad in. 

Looking like ancient plate armour that one saw at the museum, with layered... no, lobstered (that was the right term!) armour pieces to allow for the arms to move. Stacked over each other, they slid under and over to ensure protection no matter the posture. Plates across the chest to provide protection for the neck and armpits, rings around the waist to allow them to bend over. Of the leg and waist plates, they had extra plating... or was that ammunition storage? Batteries? Interesting. External hydraulics (fetchingly primitive) with what looked like an internal myomer layout. The best of both worlds perhaps? 

George couldn't help but feel interested. 

All one needed was a surcoat and they would look like modern knights. Ready to go off and slay some dragons.

The only point of contention that these had been influenced by modernity was the thickness of the armour plates, the hydraulic harness on the exterior... and the engine on their backs. Slowly purring away, releasing small streams of smoke as it did so, clearly generating the power they needed to move.

Their helmets were a wide range of different styles from different ancient designs, ones with vertical slits, one with a single horizontal slit, one that was open faced and more. 

Their hands were free, a single machine-gun of some stripe attached to the left arm. The right holding a melee weapon. 

Some had spears, some had halberds, others with greatswords. A notable few held brutal looking axes. All were vibro-blades, the power cables that ran from their bladed heads or hilts to the exosuit's arm was enough of an indication of that. 

To the side he could see Katrina frowning. "What's wrong?" George asked, perhaps she would have some insights that he didn't. 

"The weapons do not make sense. Why are they holding melee weapons, when they could instead be using crew-served weapons? But. These are prototypes, it does make sense that they are not all they could be. But... it is interesting, I will have to keep an eye on this." Her eyes never left the screen as the exosuit infantry demonstrated that they did, indeed, have a full range of movement. Notably, none tried to hop in place like athletes from time immemorial.

"Didn't you watch their Warwork's Locust Rampage cousin? This is an exhibition match, they want to be as memorable as possible. How much more memorable can you get with weapons that were ancient before we even left Terra?

The announcer soon proved his point.

"Oooooh. What do we see here? Armoured knights? Against Battlemechs? Is this a David versus the dragon? Or was it Saint George versus Goliath? Odysseys versus the Gorgon? Perseus versus the Cyclops? Small man versus giant mech. But this is the modern era, infantry against mechs only work when you have big guns! Not swords! Not axes! What are you doing here, Tolsand!? I had hope for you!"

The announcer continued on in this vein for some time, at least until the exosuits started to move. The sensory equipment attached to the camera recorded their speed, 4.167 metres per second. Sprinting forth, the team of 54 representing two platoons of infantry in the Lyran Commonwealth, spread out in a net-like formation. The exosuits moved with surprising smoothness. Perhaps it was a combination of the hydraulics and the myomers working together that achieved the effect. 

The lead mech, a Hunchback seemed confused, turning back and forth, it's simulated lasers firing. Scoring simulated kills as the exosuits slowed to a walk. The other Battlemechs, a Centurion, a Gladiator and a Hermes. The flamer was doing the most damage, yet it was just one weapon, and the 54 hunters were spread out. Damage being done as they closed in, infantry kill after infantry kill. 

Yet... it wasn't enough. Herded together like cattle on a farm surrounded by sheep dogs. The Exosuits had the mechs back to back in the centre of the arena, without cover. Left to try and hold off a tide of tiny insects that were now moving in for the kill.

The simulated machine-guns on their arms were plinking away at the armour, until they closed in enough to climb... the gloves and feet must be magnetic, George realised.

The exosuits swarming the Battlemechs, their vibroblades cutting into joints, slamming into the cockpit, simulating four kills in just under two minutes. 

His eyes were wide. 

As were Katrina's.

Iris just had her face in her hands.

"He's done it again. In a few years, with the jumpships... the Commonwealth has everything it needs to end the Third Succession War... and start the Fourth. The Homeless in the Estates General will push for another war, the Estates General will be right behind them. " Iris muttered. 

"What is this about the Jumpships? They are primitives, no drop-collars from the rumours we've been hearing from Education. At least the first generation." George interjected. 

"That does not mean they do not work. Each is 200,000 tons. 22 light year range, has an internal bay that can hold most dropships during a jump. Is armoured, has its own weapon batteries, aerospace bays... it's like a very poorly armed and armoured warship. But when 20 of them at a time jump in convoys... carrying aerospace and dropships. When Primitive Bounty is planning on 100 in the first year at full production, 500 in the second... 1,000 in the third." Iris shook her head. "It doesn't matter if they are primitive designs, they have the numbers." 

Katrina took a step back in shock. Understanding dawning on her face. Even George understood the issue now.

Even if they did not wish for war... with such a force, the Estates General would agitate for one, seeing their superiority in number and technology as the 'solution' for victory. Unable to understand the cost that would come with such a conflict. 

"I understand now what you mean. But I can promise you this, there will not be a Fourth Succession War. Not if I'm Archon." Katrina stated firmly. 

"What can you do as you are now?" Iris asked, hope on her face.

"I am still heir. I will do what I can to I force a peace from my position. Sit on him, Iris, find him something productive... and less destructive to do in the meantime. I will see about getting Uncle Alessandro to give him the titles, give him something to chew on until I become Archon. I'll bring in Morgan and Arthur to think on the matter. If we're to save the Commonwealth from itself, we'll need all the help we can get."