002. MIIO Arrive, Reactions.

February 27, 2990, Diboll, Federated Suns, Edgeward Combat Theatre, Draconis March

"Conflict is brought about due to miscommunication. A lack of ability to communicate with one another is why we are at war now." Huu Theberge's voice filled the room from the recorded speech.

"Bullshit, everyone with even half an education knows basic Star League English."

"Our detractors will tell us that everyone knows English. Yet, is it truly communication if we cannot understand one another? Hiding behind words, unable to truly share meaning. This weakness is holding us back, preventing us from reaching our true potential. For it is only by moving to space, that we can become newtypes. It is only by becoming newtypes, that we can communicate with our minds, to share our inner thoughts, our greatest fears, our greatest desires. What conflict can there be when we understand one another on a level so deep that we share their very thoughts with our own? To reach this state, we must travel to the stars, to make them our homes!"

"Fuck'n hell, the lad is missing half a baguette isn't he? Understanding people is how wars get started, hello!?" The same voice as before cut in, his deep growl filled with sheer incomprehension. Likely a result of the laughter from the other two in the room.

Sitting in the room by Madeleine Theberge's side was Sahel Wildenberg, MI2, Analysis and Speculation. As they watched the latest of her son's… sermons, or perhaps, speeches? Not ranting. There was a distinct lack of frothing at the mouth and spittle flying all over the crowd. Madeleine could only shake her head in response to Sahel. Family friend… sort of. In the area, and couldn't help himself from dropping by. Never one to avoid a situation if he could make it worse, that was Sahel.

"Shut up and eat a pickled herring Sahel. At least he isn't killing people for sport or calling for the annihilation of all life, like some other cultists." She muttered irritably.

"Pickled herring? I've told you a million times, woman, I am Dutch! It is the filthy swedes and finns that eat .pickled herring!" His indignation was a balm to her soul as they both settled down to watch the rest of the sermon.

Perhaps it was her wilful disbelief that he would do such a thing, perhaps it was the firm belief that it was the whimsy of a child. But she had not been able to realise that this was the case, had not been able to determine just how greatly she had failed her son.

"We are children of Earth, this is true. But like all children, when we are ready to leave the embrace of the earth, to leave our childhood homes. What have we done? Instead of stepping into the greatness of space, to embed ourselves in the bosom of the universe, we instead found new Earths to make like our homes, never maturing, never growing!"

But. A voice in the back of her head whispered, could she have been able to change his mind? He had been set on this since he was 8, this story of his that had been fleshed out, only grew and grew until he was here now. Preaching to an enormous (for him) crowd. A packed room filled with roughly 100 people.

10 of which were Ministry of Intelligence, Information, and Operations (MIIO).

The difference between the Department of Military Intelligence and MIIO was that DMI was focused on external threats over all else. MIIO was focused on internal issues. The two had separate focuses and would rarely ever overlap… save for MI3, which often cooperated with MIIO's subdivision of Information-Gathering services.

"The very first virgin world we landed upon we renamed New Earth! We had not left our primitive states of mind. Even now, we have not evolved, we have not developed. Stagnating as a species. Content to evolve worlds to meet our standards, and yet failing to evolve ourselves. When the first succession war ended, there were no more colonies! We cut them down and in doing so, cut down the future! No more, I say! To become a new humanity, we must step fully into the stars, to live amongst the cosmic song of the universe. To evolve into newtypes, to become more, to reach the full potential that we were blessed with by the universe!" 

It was through this link that Madeleine had been able to get the Bureau of Internal Investigation involved. A subsidiary of MIIO, Madeleine had sent a message through MIIO-IGS which was picked up by MIIO-BII, and they had sent their own investigators to keep an eye on the situation. She also took back what she said about the ranting. He was looking rather worked up in the recording.

A cult was usually something MIIO would keep an eye on anyway.

A cult with grand designs to build a fusion reactor?

Well, that demanded boots on the ground, to make sure that they weren't planning on building some kind of fusion-bomb with the aim to kill millions of people in a murder-suicide of epic proportions.

Which was why she was here, now, with Sahel and Martin. Watching the recording before, the MIIO members came back from the same meeting in which this recording had taken place. They needed to talk about it.

"Anyone else and you would have shot them." Came the murmur from Sahel.

Madeleine shot a glare at him. "No I wouldn't. He's a Federated Suns citizen inside of the Federated Suns. We only deal with external threats."

"Right, and if he had been in the Draconis Combine, we would have used him to set up a self-destructing cult. If he was trying to get into the Federated Suns, we would have shot him on sight. Admit it, you've gotten soft." Sahel's voice was patronising.

Lieutenant Iceberg shoved an elbow into his gut.

"He's non-violent, non-insurrectional, non-dangerous. He is not a threat, son or not, he does not meet the eliminate on sight criteria." Her voice was cold.

Sahel wriggled his eyebrows at her.

"But it took you this long to report him to MIIO and DMI. Face it, you're not where you were."

Madeleine continued to glare at Sahel. Both of them veterans of MI6, the Rabid Foxes. The Terrorists of the Federated Suns. At any one time, there were 500 of them on active duty in the Inner Sphere. Committing whatever acts were necessary to keep the Federated Suns safe in the Inner Sphere. Focusing their operations in the Capellan Confederation and Draconis Combine with direct action operations.

Both had retired after their bodies were unable to keep up with the demands of combat operations. War fighting was a young man's game, unless you were a Mechwarrior, in which case you got to sit in a comfy chair and lord it over the peasants. Your command throne also meant you weren't tearing your tendons or spraining your joints like the mortals who had to walk on their own two legs.

After their service, the three had split ways, the surviving members of their team.

Madeleine to MI3, indulging her love of travel.

Sahel to MI2.

And behind them, Martin Blek to MI5 in a training role.

Also, an accredited fusion reactor engineer. For who better to sabotage fusion reactors than someone trained in their operation and design?

"I would be worried if she was the same as we were twenty years ago. I would ask where she managed to exercise enough to stay fit, how she's keeping her edge. Is she hunting civilians for sport, I would ask myself. It is a good thing, then, that she is a little softer, no?" Martin spoke, his voice filled with humour.

"And it's a good thing you were in the next system over huh? Coincidence maybe?" Asked Sahal with a grin.

"Of course not, him being there was the entire reason I sent out the message. Who better to know how a fusion reactor will fail than someone who spent their time rigging them to do so?" Madeleine said, a grin on her face. Sahel, frowning at her rejoinder.

"Ah, mon cheri, I am glad you were the one who sent the message. If you hadn't I would ask if we were still friends. Am I not the godfather of your son? Such a momentous event, for him to come to the attention of MI Command, only the greatest no?"

"Yes. Everyone wants to come to Military Intelligence attention, naturally. Anyway, back to the topic. The design that they've set out in front of you. Will it work?" Madeleine tapped her foot, interested in the answer, unbearably so. Was he insane, or was he a genius? There was a thin line between the two, as any Federated Suns citizen knew.

Sahel interrupted, as he always did, the ass, "of course it won't work. None of it looks like something that anyone sane could manage. The entire design uses hydrogen, for Christ's sake. What kind of fusion engine does that?"

"One that is designed from first principles. I can see how it can work", Martin continued, unfazed as he was by years of Sahel… being Sahel, "The reaction chamber with its magnetic core does look like it could work. It's similar to standard designs. Where it differs is the containment shielding and the reaction materials. I can see the rough idea from my training, but I must ask if there have been any prototypes before this point. There is too much unknown for me to make a judgement."

Madeleine shook her head.

"He's been apparently working on it while at boot camp and on militia deployment, only rough sketches. If you're wondering why I hadn't reported it further, this is why. It's the first practical demonstration he's shown that aren't just sketch drawings." She directed their attention at the photographs of the sketches and writings her son had created. MIIO had pulled them out, taken their photos, and put them back in the exact places they had started out.

Not a single speck of dust out of place. Even though Huu had been there in the room with them, they prided themselves on their professionalism and skills. The situation had been explained to him (Madeleine, uncle Martin, and creepy weird Sahel's roles were still secret), and Huu had been enthusiastic about cooperation. Perhaps he thought of them as potential converts.

The copies were spread out across the table, the three could see the slow transition of ideas. From his writings at 8, scribbled in unsteady handwriting. Of how he had spoken of the tyranny of Earth, spread across the stars. Increasingly verbose and sophisticated as Earth was translated to planetary governments in general. A demonstration of his increasing maturity and understanding of stellar-politics. Throughout one thread reverberated, a desire to uplift mankind into the stars. Blinkers that focused his vision, no matter how outlandish his conclusions were.

Of technological concepts of crude IndustrialMechs, the words 'Mobile Suit' scribbled on them in the same childish hand. Lacking any weapons and human in shape, described as 'the future'. Over time, these too evolved. Made real through sophisticated and scaled drawings of their interiors, specifications, materials, tolerances and more. Enough for Madeleine to think they were production drawings and not flights of fancy, such was the level of detail and precision.

This Gelgoog on canvas so large it had to be hidden under his bed. One she avoided searching... because young men hid certain things under their beds, she understood. The canvas had painted in loving detailed, unit numbers, battle scarring, floating through space with a molten hole through its stomach. The cockpit location she recognised from other drawings (why was it there?), cored. Floating amidst a vast grave in space filled with multiple other designs, unknown ships, themselves also wrecks. Two conflicting design, a war of some kind.

It had been titled 'Death of a Dream'.

All of these had been seen as childish fancies. Unknown to Madeleine, he had started to hide the technical drawings from her eyes. She hadn't known just how much he had done, how far he had taken this. The research papers he had written, the small scale experiments he had conducted at the local machine shops. MIIO had cast hundreds of interviews in the last few weeks, all to learn more about this potential… child genius, or grown lunatic.

Bringing Huu in to raise 'concerns' that had rapidly escalated as he had shown considerable enthusiasm about sharing his data, his research. Walking them through it, the Contolism cultists being so cooperative it was actually worrying. The entire time explaining how his reactor would lead to a peaceful future for all. Explaining how he had done his research, drawn his designs in secret.

The small trips he had gone out with to meet his 'friends', instead spending time at machine shops, blacksmiths and more. Working to earn money, and spending time on their machines when not in use. All to test materials research, or to submit scientific papers with his part-time work through the HPG station.

How had she not known about the depths of his obsession?

The tens of thousands of hours he must have spent on this over the course of 9 years. Perhaps Sahel was right, perhaps she was going soft to not have noticed this.

"Don't hurt yourself over this, cheri. While you may be one of us, you are also a mother. You would not be so if you did not have your blind spots." Martin reassured her, hand on her shoulder.

"I am a mother, but I am also a soldier of the realm. I can't afford to have blind spots! Missing all of this isn't just a blindspot!" She growled.

"Correction, you are an agent of MI3. You're retired remember." Her friend reminded her.

"Yes, you got soft. Happens to all women… some men." Sahel added the last part… almost as an afterthought. He was also… a sort of friend. After spending years in the same unit. Committing the acts of terrorism as they had. As abrasive as he was, he was still counted as a… friend. If only because flinging shit at a wall will cause it to stick. All tempered with the knowledge, that if she had met him anywhere but the MI4 Covert Action pipeline, she would have kicked his teeth in, the misogynistic bastard.

"Right, let's wrap this up. MIIO will want to chat with Madeleine again about our junior cult leader. Charismatic bastard, isn't he? Makes me want to go to space and prance with the space whales."

The cult leader's mother rolled her eyes, yes, we all know he's an illegitimate child. It's not new knowledge.

"Wrap what up? We're already here." A knock and a fourth voice interjected from the other side of the room.

The three ex-rabid foxes, warned by the knock, didn't react violently. Instead, they turned baleful gazes on the interloper. As she walked in, a smile on her face, the three DMI agents consciously relaxed themselves from their ready poses.

"Hi guys, Agent Morrison, MIIO. I just arrived today. Just got put in charge of this whole show. I understand Ms Theberge is the one who called this in? Gotta say, whoever is running signals on Diboll better have a good fucking excuse for missing this. 23,572 messages from a single individual. Sure, they're from multiple accounts, but that's not an excuse. All of them relating to Contolism, Mobile Suits, plastic model kits, or New Kyoto female idol groups. What can I say, the boy's got a fetish and is loyal to it." The words spewed from her mouth as Morrison shook their hands, handing them folders and sitting down. Motioning for them to do the same.

"Anyway! Back to my point, whoever ran signals is going to get my boot up their assholes, so deep that it will poke where the diagnostic lights don't shine. They'll need a colonoscopy to get it out once I'm done. Because this? This should have been picked up years ago. Hundreds of messages whenever he lands in a new system. Just spewing out, from the same dropship a DMI agent is travelling on. Or from the same spaceport that a DMI agent has landed on. Or from the same, fucking hotel room that a DMI agent is staying in. All a little nonsensical, childish even at the beginning, but since we've got a practical result out of it, actual research data going back years. MIIO should have picked up on this within a year, not after 6. Something fuckey is going on here, and I'm not looking forward to reporting this up the chain. Anything to add, you Dimmies?" Morrison finally took a breath, the sucking sound of saliva being sucked back out of her mouth filling the room. The off handed insult bouncing off them with the experience of long practice.

"How exactly did he hide the more technical drawings… or the experiments?" Madeleine asked, how did she miss all of this, she wanted to ask instead.

"Asked him, interviewed him. Said he was doing it because he didn't want to worry you. Said you being a single mother had enough problems without him adding to it. Good kid you got there, if not for the… whole, uh, cult thing he's got going on. The fusion reactor design might balance that out, culty at night, scientist by day." The short, sharp reply was like a knife in her heart.

"Shiiit, he thought your sneaky installing of modems and routers was you scrounging for work? Does he know only rich people get to travel on jumpships? Are you sure this kid's smart, sounds like a dumb-" Sahel was cut off as Martin smacked him upside the head.

"Such are the costs of our duty to the realm. I ask if you have a child of your own… or if you have never had the chance." The engineer continued, voice placid.

"Fuck off Martin. Some of us have work to do. Just saying, the kid should have picked up on it."

"And I ask, if one grows up experiencing something, do we not question it? Consider it as normal? Are you truly one to ask this question?" Martin had a warning note in his voice now.

Morrison interjected, if only to bring down the tension. "Anyway, we've brought our fusion engineers along to double-check Agent Blek's work. We've had a look at the designs… but half of it is so alien we have no idea if it will work or not. Our designs use Kearny-Fuchida Hyperspace Principles, these Hydrogen based designs are going in an entirely different direction. Might as well be alien from what our experts tell me. At this point, we've just got to go forward with what we've got. We've secured an isolated plot to build the prototype. MIIO is footing the bill for this one, giving out rebates to the kids, on the condition we have observers and technicians on site. Should this work out, the Assistant Deputy Director will be alerted, and we'll escalate to the Regional Operation Director, and from them to the First Prince."

On one hand, Madeleine was glad that her son's actions would benefit the Suns, even if by accident on his crusade to the stars.

On the other, she was worried about the implications of an enormous increase in audience size for his crusade to the stars.

+Break+

March 12, 2990, Diboll, Federated Suns, Edgeward Combat Theatre, Draconis March

System, how many research points do I need to research the Leo.

Huu asked of the Academic System. He needed a work Mobile Suit while he was building points for a full building sized Minovsky Reactor, then the Mobile Suit sized Minovsky Ultracompact Reactor and then, finally, the Zaku 1. Much easier to get the workhorse (according to the technology tree) Mobile Suit for cheap, instead of the millions he needed for a Zaku 1.

++ Host needs 12,928 Research Points. +

He let out a harsh sigh.

What's the best way to cut that price down System? If I want to build the colonies, I need to have some kind of industrial Mobile Suit that's protected. Especially in this hellscape of a purgatory, where opening an electronics shop might get you attacked. The original open-faced Mobile Workers that were part of the 'Wing' tech-tree weren't practical in light of this. He needed armour, no matter how light.

++ Host is reminded that Host can complete independent research tasks to uncover principles independently of System. Host will earn research points and automatically unlock completed research. ++

I know that System. I mean, what is the most efficient way to do that! Like, go for material science first and then electronics, or something else

++ System recommends completing the Tallgeese first in the technology tree. Alternatively, Hose can complete System assigned mission. Current timer at ~6 years, 189 days of non-completion~. ++

But it's not like anyone can use it System. It has 15gs of acceleration, even my Gelgoog didn't have that much thruster capability! How many test pilots did the designers go through before deciding to mothball it? And exactly how was he meant to publish on a scientific journal if none of the journals were accepting his submissions? Sure it gave 100,000 points… but if he couldn't publish, he wouldn't get the points would he!?

++ 8 pilots were killed in testing Host! System recommends Host find alternative test pilot for first test. System recommends Host continue trying. Perseverance is a very human trait, System approves. ++

…

Right, that's why he was willing to bypass the Tallgeese. He needed a valid and working machine. So that those that had placed their trust in him, would have validation of their belief. He couldn't just waste time on something that would kill every one of its non-enhanced pilots! Imagine it now, presenting it to Archduke Sandoval and finding out he had turned his organs to mush on the first trial run… ugh.

So, if he broke it down, 12,928 points was… 12,928 comments online. One point, per mildly informative comment.

Or 3,232 deeply informative comments with citations and lack of insults towards the other user's intelligence at 4 points each.

Or 2,155 informative essays submitted onto an academic focused forum for 6 points each.

Those were, of course, rough numbers. The number of views was not high… because there weren't that many people on Diboll to begin with. Not to mention, the forums he posted on would find themselves maxed in terms of eyeballs on his post in a matter of days anyway

He had no idea what the numbers would look like if he submitted to an actual scientific journal… and it was accepted. Eyes across the entire Federated Suns would see his writings. Not just his individual scientific research and experiment results (which had formed the majority of his research points until now), but also his writings on the human condition and Contolism. Imagine if millions could read his writings, how many would decide to join him in space? With such a perfect... system of thought, who wouldn't want to join? Besides his mother... and uncle Martin... and old man George next door... and the rest of the people in his neighborhood... of course.

Seriously, no idea at all.

He couldn't move to New Avalon or a capital world either, his followers were here! And, of course, his mother. She had worked herself to the bone to provide for him as a child. He couldn't just leave, family was just as important as his dream. For mankind was to become family in the future as they all became newtypes. If he abandoned his family here, what did it say about him?

And so, Huu grimly resolved himself to working with what he had. He would continue researching, continue writing, continue developing. Eventually, all would come to Diboll, and he wouldn't need to leave. He could provide for his mother at the same time as he provided for all of mankind! Double, no, quadruple the rewards for the same amount of effort!

Because only through work and effort, could the dream of Contolism be achieved.

But, if he worked towards the Tallgeese… what kind of an impact would that have on developing the Leo? It wasn't like he knew, he was raised in Zeon, ask him about the Zaku II and the Zaku I, and he could tell you everything. About something for an entirely different universe? How the hell could he tell you anything?

++ Tallgeese development will reduce cost of Leo to 0. Leo is a down-teched development from the Tallgeese. ++

…

Really? Wow… that's uh. That would be useful? Yeah. He should do that. Why the hell was the most impressive design first in the technology tree? Wasn't this like… the opposite of how things were meant to be? Who even did that? It's utterly stupid game design, wait. No, this wasn't World of Battlemechs.

This was real life.

How much to develop the Tallgeese again, System?

++ 8,261 Research Points. Host. 3,261 if Ultracompact Fusion Reactor test is successful. ++

That's right, 5000 research points for a successful prototype test. Concrete numbers for prototypes, variable numbers for publications.

Yes. His thoughts would be vindicated... and he would achieve the remaining 3,261 research points in a matter of hours once the news broke out. He was sure of it, his old research papers were still contained on the computer at home after all! And in a hole he had dug in the backyard... just in case.

It all depended on this upcoming test. All of his work in the last nine years, all of it for this singular moment. This spark of ignition on the bonfire he had prepared. To begin the spread of Contolism on a wider stage. The technology would serve as a means of raising funds, yes. But it would also be a concrete means by which to give him a voice, they would need to listen to the creator of the Ultracompact Fusion Reactor, and then the first Mobile Suits of the universe.

After all, he could build a colony, but what would be the point if none were willing to leave their worlds, behind? If none knew of his message, that there was the option to leave in the first place? To reject the press of gravity on their souls and take another step forward in the path of evolution. They needed to know before they could accept!

Yes.

This was the first step on the stairs to space.

Before him on video was the reactor. The design purchased with Research Points on the suggestion of the System. How else would he supply the Minovsky Reactors with the fuel they needed, the System had asked him.

After MIIO had provided the funding, the final, rare parts had been sourced. Their conditions were not onerous, for it would provide authenticity to the test. He would accept harsher terms if it meant he could spread the message of Contolism far and wide

All were standing two kilometres away from the sheltered reactor, the control console before him active.

"Test range is clear. Ultracompact Fusion Reactor test is live!" The Battlemechs and AFVs on the holographic map were patrolling the region, and for good reason. This represented a change of truly monumental proportions, all precautions must be taken to keep it safe.

For his dream would be vindicated this day!

Proving that it was real, physical, something that could be grasped with both hands! Proof to his followers, his brothers and sisters in mind.

"Activating the Ultracompact Fusion Reactor." His voice left his lips, sounding distant. As if it were from a great distance away.

And so it did. The hydrogen gas canister attached by a robotic arm. The system accepting the charge. A small burst of ignition from the initial release, enough to activate a small portion of the reactor, that then proceeded to roar to life. Devouring the fuel and creating Helium. The energy release enough to prove the validity of his design.

Yes

The beauty of the Ultracompact Fusion Reactor was that it could alter the power output depending on its settings and fuel. It was easy to create, cheap to source materials for, and could be spread throughout the poor regions in the Suns. The better their lives were, the more they would wish to join him in space, where their lives would be even better! Living through the next stage of human evolution.

The beauty of this situation was that Contolism had a source of funds. He had a source of legitimacy. Now, his papers wouldn't be rejected for having no basis. Was his reactor not a proof perfect case study? Let us see them deny him now! Read throughout the Suns, he would be reaping the research points to reach the Leo to build his colonies. And then the Minovsky Reactors, so he could be joined again with his beloved Gelgoog

Soon he would spread his message throughout the Inner Sphere, to all of human space.

He would be able to develop and build the Leo, Aries, and Tragos Mobile Suits. Perfect for industrial work. Designs that were also useless in this Inner Sphere, at 7 tons for the Leo alone, it was even lighter than a Locust. With armour made of titanium, and an inability to internally mount weapons. It was useless as a combat suit in this age of total, brutal war. Anyone who used one would be ineffective at best on the battlefield. Which meant his designs could only be used for what he intended them for, industrial purposes. With hydraulics instead of myomers, it wasn't compatible with any war machines of the known universe. Lighter than most IndustrialMech designs, it couldn't be refitted with modern designs for war. It was why he was so focused on the Leo, the perfect ambassador for his message of peace.

Mankind would join him in the stars, and peace would follow. Not in his lifetime perhaps, but once all of humanity were newtypes, telepathic, sharing an intimate connection beyond that which any human had ever experienced?

War would be a thing of the past.

For all would be enlightened.

Yes, thought Huu, things were coming up aces!

+Break+

March 28, 2990, New Avalon, Federated Suns, Coreward Combat Theatre, Crucis March

First Prince Andrew looked at the missive that had arrived per his hat as leader of MIIO.

"New Fusion Reactor Design. Undetectable by standard fusion reactor sensor systems. No KF Reaction detected. Recommend pursuing development. Designs 1000x cheaper than KF Fusion Reactors. Lacking defensive shielding and safeguards. Recommend pursuing development. Potential of undetectable (by KF sensors) tanks, battlemechs, Dropship and ASF possible. Recommend pursuing development. Request public reinforcement and support from AFFS, DMI, and MIIO elements. Situation high priority, Kearny-Fuchida mind present."

Reading it aloud, he looked at his nine year old son, Ian Davion.

"What do you think?" He asked

"Useful?"

"Yes. I do think that would be the case." It looked like he had a few calls to make, a mind on the same level as the men who created the first Fusion reactor… and discovered the possibility of Jumpship travel centuries before their time?

That was one mind that must be protected. Especially given how many had died over the course of the Succession Wars.

He would be interested in meeting such an individual, that was for certain.

Indeed, he would be very very interested indeed. Cheap fusion reactors... wouldn't that mean cheap Battlemechs? His father had died breaking the Mech Cabal, yes... but they still existed in spirit if not physical form. Mechwarriors who were given rights as Knights, landed nobles. Who, in turn, fought reforms with their whole being, often to the detriment of the Federated Suns. For their interests came first.

But cheap Battlemechs he could churn out by the thousand if these numbers were correct? What Mechwarrior Cabal? They would be drowned by his professional Battlemech forces, any attempt to oppose the First Prince would see them annihilated. What had happened to his father would never happen again, sparing his children and descendants. In one fell swoop, he had the potential to break the back of the Mechwarrior interest groups in the Federated Suns.

Yes... he would be very interested indeed in meeting this young man.