[drakensis]

Guest Quarters, Hilton Head Island
North America, Terra
20 August 3028

If this was heaven, Hanse Adriaan Davion had no complaints.

He hadn't been sure which way he was going in the afterlife. As much as he had tried, with help from his friends, to do the right thing... he was the ruler of billions. His decisions over the years had all too often meant a choice that he could only hope was the lesser of two evils.

He'd fought battles and wars. He had started some of them, which must weigh heavily upon one's final judgement.

And yet, here he was, reliving the best day of his life.

Melissa had been as beautiful as he remembered, far more than a beaten-up old warlord like him deserved. He'd almost forgotten to give his vows, he was so busy drinking in the sight of her.

Seeing Maximilian Liao's face when the wedding gifts had been everything he remembered. It had been a real effort not to cackle like a madman as the Chancellor madly tried to gather up plates, screaming that they were military intelligence. If Hanse hadn't owed Justin that toast - and a thousand times more than that - he might have yielded to temptation.

Ardan looking so young. Morgan - Morgan Hasek-Davion, that was - with Kym Sorenson on his arm. Hanse had done the boy dirty there, but fortunately Kym was happy with his nephew and she made Morgan happy too. Hopefully Morgan would never learn that Kym had fallen for him while spying on him for Hanse. It was bad enough that his father had betrayed the Federation, without dealing with that.

Melissa in his arms again, though. That was the best thing.

Hanse had never thought he would find love again after losing Dana. He had feared that marrying Melissa would be more political than anything, it was one reason he had agreed so readily to give her options to decline once she was old enough.

He had been wrong, and never so glad of it.

And, a lecherous part of him rejoiced, while he was beaten-up, Hanse wasn't broken down. The last few years he remembered, they had lain together more often than enjoyed conjugal relations. And far more often than either, their duties had drawn them apart. Him on New Avalon or her on Tharkad - court moved between them as far as was possible but there was never enough time to just be themselves and set their crowns aside.

He had regrets, the First Prince admitted.

But not this day. Never their wedding day.

And yet...

Hanse tried to bury the suspicion. Tried to ignore it. Tried to lie to himself.

There was one fly in the ointment when it came to this day, or rather of the wedding night. Not in the original, but in this revisiting of it.

Melissa had come to his bed virginal. And while he had gently broken past that for her, as he had in the past, there was something different now.

The first time they had made love had been clumsy, imperfect, a matter of them learning each other's intimacies. He remembered that and treasured it as he did everything else of this precious day.

Tonight, though his wife had certainly had her first time, these mutual mistakes had not been there. He knew her as his wife of twenty four years... and Melissa had not only responded to that.

She acted as if she knew him too.

Something that she had not, on that long ago night.

Hanse reached around and cradled her head, running fingers through Melissa's thick blonde hair. He tried to work up the nerve...

And once more, his wife proved herself far braver and wiser than she ever gave herself credit for. "Hanse," she murmured. "Do you remember... Phelan?"

Of course he did.

Should not, on this night. But he did.

And so did Melissa.

"Salome's son?" he asked, keeping his answer as vague as her own. Enough that either could retreat if this tentative confidence was misplaced.

But his wife upped the ante. "And Morgan's."

"Phelan Ward Kell," he confirmed. And then... "What happened to him?"

"He became Khan of Clan Wolf!" Melissa told him, looking up, tears beginning to form. "That fool boy!"

So she remembered past what must have been his death. "I suppose that they recognise talent when they saw it." He tightened his arms around her as if she would be torn away from him now. "I'm sorry for leaving you alone."

Melissa pulled one arm free and punched him, though she was kind enough to aim for his ribcage and not below. "You should be. A stroke! Of all the stupid things, why didn't you talk to a doctor?"

"I honestly didn't expect it." So it had been a stroke.

"These things do not come out of nowhere!" his wife hissed.

Hanse drew her close and kissed her gently. "Regular health-checks," he promised once they parted. "We know now... and twenty-four years with you wasn't enough. I wanted to be with you and the children for much longer than that."

Melissa closed her eyes briefly, and her tone when she told him "So did I," was not a teenager's.

A chill went through Hanse. "Melissa, how long..."

"Three years," she admitted.

"Three years!" Hanse exploded, so loudly that they both looked towards the door for fear of security barging in.

"Three years?" he repeated himself. "My love, you wouldn't have been as old as I am! Am now, I mean."

She lowered her face to rest against his, looking as young as she was now. "I know."

"What happened."

"I don't know," Melissa admitted, an edge of frustration to her voice. "I was giving a speech, at the Frederick Steiner Memorial Library. Then... just... I woke up this morning. I don't recall... anything between."

Hanse rested his head back against the pillow, looking past his wife at the ceiling. She didn't know, but from what she was describing. "If you died, then..."

"Yes," she murmured. "It seems likely. And while I don't know any details, that is enough to guess."

Natural causes... for a Successor Lord. Violence.

Someone had killed his wife.

"Who?" Hanse hissed, anger rising within his chest.

"Hanse," Melissa sighed. "We're never going to solve a case when it hasn't happened yet! And won't now, since neither of us is an idiot!"

"But you must have suspicions. Sun-Tzu Liao?"

She visibly considered it. "Possible," the Archon-in-a-teenage body allowed cautiously. "He's not done anything too suspicious yet though. In fact, no one was making any moves of significance, but striking at me could have been their first."

"Victor wasn't there with you, was he?" That would be one hell of an opening move, Hanse thought. Kill the Archon and the First Prince with one stroke.

But she shook his head. "He was away with his Revenants. Being a soldier again..."

Hanse frowned and filed that away. He knew that Victor valued military service over other affairs of state, but that wasn't something that a ruler could... Then he sighed. "God. We will never see them again, will we?"

Now Melissa allowed tears to fall. Hanse felt close to it himself.

"I can't just replace them," she said at last. "I..."

"We can't not have children," he told her gently. "But you're right. They can never replace the... the elder siblings they will never know. Never know about."

His wife wiped her eyes. "Different names."

"Of course," Hanse agreed immediately. There was no shortage of options, after all. "And while we have lost much, there are other things. Your mother..."

Melissa looked pained. "I doubt we can save her, Hanse. We already tried everything."

"It's true that no one lives forever," he admitted. "But we can try. And at the least, from your side, it's ten more years with her. I can't... balance that against what we lost. But it isn't nothing, love."

Melissa nodded and rolled off him. Curled up against his side. "I can think of others we can save," she said slowly. "Mistakes to avoid."

Hanse felt his lips curl back. "So can I." Theodore Kurita would never know what hit him!

"But we should be cautious," his wife warned. "We do not know if anyone else is in our position."

He hadn't even considered that. If they weren't the only ones... "Good thinking." His mind raced, but Hanse forced himself to focus. "We should be... as you say, caution. We can afford to wait. If our enemies are moving then they will know the cards we have in play... which they would almost have to try to counter."

Melissa rested one arm across his chest. "Unless it's the Clans. We won't know about that for years."

"I know too little about them to predict that," he admitted. "Did you learn more?"

"Much more," she confirmed. "I hope we have time to prepare. Twenty years... even with this head start, it may not be enough."

"We'll do what we can," Hanse told her. "It will have to be enough. As for nearer possibilities, other than a few less than obvious matters, we can wait a month or two and see if anything suggests that we are not alone. It will give us time to plan..."

He felt his wife nod in agreement, and then she poked him - below the ribs, this time.

"What?" the Fox asked her, working an arm around her.

"You kept more than a few things from me," she warned him. "I had to pick up your secrets. I had to grow more in that time than I care to think."

"Melissa..." He paused. "No more secrets." That would be hard. By reflex, he still wanted to protect her, protect his family...

"You don't need to hide the ugly side of our rule from me," she told him, determinedly. "I may look like I'm just a girl again... but I'm not. You sheltered me too much. This time... we're true partners."

True partners. That was going to be a wrench... but Hanse was man enough to admit that she deserved it. That she was right. Inside her head, she'd been Archon as long now as he had been First Prince when they first wed. "You may need to remind me," he conceded. "But you're right, my Archon."

Melissa shivered. "Not yet," she said, and pulled herself closer against him. "But partner, with you and Mom. Maybe if I carry more of her load."

"I hope so," the man said sincerely, and not just because it would please his wife. Katrina's wisdom was something he would welcome. Even though she would probably never believe that they were going through this a second time. "And unless you think we can tell her this, you'll need to play more of a role in the Commonwealth now. We should make a list of things to do."

"That," his wife told him, "We can do tomorrow. We have a lot of dropship time ahead of us. And there is a more pressing need."

"Oh?"

Melissa's hand roamed down him. "It has been three years, Hanse."

More than that, given the requirements of the Clan War, but Hanse Davion was certainly not going to argue with that. His own hands began to wander and for a while their minds were very far away...

[lowrolling]

Great start and thanks for posting.  Glad to see another ride from you on the boards.  Melissa holding Hanse to account is going to be a good thing for both of them and possibly the Inner Sphere.

[nroe03742]

wish that there was a ngo in this verse that melissa nows that she can count on to do things with either the economy or with the military

[Daryk]

Magnificent!  The two of them doing a "Davion and Davion, Deceased" TOGETHER! 

[monbvol]

Oh my...

[Daryk]

Added to my index thread already!  And I hope Frederick Steiner is one of the ones they can save...  I'd really like to see Nelitha again... ;)

[Shadow_Wraith]

Oh! Awesome start!  I am looking forward to reading if other characters also went back in time and what possible different choices they will make. 

[PsihoKekec]

Hanse and Melissa together again, this is going to be good, together they can achieve so much that the Myndo's seething would reach levels that were inconceivable to the past generations. 

In the short term, they know all the enemy strategems for 4th SW and '39, for example false Death Commandos will likely fall find an ambush waiting for them, instead of Hanse running solo into fight. In the long term, they know each others strengths and weaknesses, with additional years of experience, they will make formidable team on the political scene.

And I trust drakensis to make this a compelling read even if it becomes FedCom wank.

[lowrolling]

Jaime Wolf's scam is now shot, that is for certain.

[drakensis]

Low Orbit, Jonathan
Sarna Commonality, Capellan Confederation
1 December 3028

Colonel Darrel McHenry wasn't sure who to expect aboard the Davion-owned dropship he was rendezvousing with. Marshal Gossiage of the Sixth Crucis Lancers, who was most likely in command of the invasion fleet surrounding his destination? Someone more senior? Or a smooth diplomat who lied as easily as they breathed.

He knew that since the invitation to meet with a senior representative of the Federated Suns had been made, there was quite a pool riding on the answer. He had put ten yuan down on Marshal Ardan Sortek, the First Prince's preferred troubleshooter. At worst he was out of pocket by the cost of a new coat...

His Leopard had docked belly to belly with the Intruder, mating airlocks, so he needed no vac-suit to cross the divide. In zero-gravity, he shoved off and entered the compartment with more thought for deciding who was going to meet him than what they had to say.

After all, the AFFS was here to invade Jonathan and his Second Kearny Highlanders were honorbound to defy them. And while there were two RCTs about to land, the Fifth Crucis had no 'mech regiment after losses some years ago. While it was still a formidable infantry and armor force, it was 'mechs that decided battles and the numbers were not as badly against him as they could be.

The Highlander Colonel's jaw almost sagged though as he saw the impossibility that was awaiting him. If anyone had bet on this, they were going to be rich.

"Welcome aboard, Colonel," Melissa Steiner-Davion greeted him warmly. "I've been looking forward to meeting you."

McHenry found his footing, mag-boots locking him to the deck, which was 180 degrees reversed from that of his own ride. He bowed gallantly over the princess' hand and then managed to shake the hand of her husband without more than a mild urge to punch the First Prince in the face.

From the look in Hanse Davion's eyes, he understood that temptation had been resisted. "The Northwind Highlanders have always been worthy adversaries," he told McHenry as they released their grip without a serious attempt to crush each other's fingers. "And Northwind was the world my wife first landed on when she visited the Federated Suns. We were both keen to meet you in person."

"Northwind is a lovely world," Melissa said with what appeared to be sincerity.  "Have you had the chance to visit, Colonel McHenry?"

"For a month," he said heavily... "As your ancestors have allowed, your highness," he added to the Davion. And she was right. Northwind was a lovely world.

The Fox smiled and gestured to some seats. "Perhaps you'll get the chane again," he offered as the trio took the available seats.

McHenry shrugged with forced nonchalance. "Not while we are at war." He tilted his head and - because he was no smooth diplomat - asked what was on his mind bluntly. "How are you both here?"

Davion's lips quirked. "One wedding night was not enough. You are a married man, I am sure you understand."

"Hanse, don't tease the man," the young woman beside him chided gently. Then she gave McHenry a steely look. "Your chancellor gave my husband a very good body-double some years ago. It allows us some absence from New Avalon without allowing others to know."

"You know I'll need to tell the Maskirovka that." the Highlander pointed out.

"Max knows what he did," the First Prince retorted, voice deep and dark for a moment. The colonel felt a chill, reminded that this was a very dangerous man.

Melissa shook her head slightly. "Your loyalties are your own to decide, Colonel. That is why we are here."

"Oh? Cutting to the meat of it?"

She smiled again, something that suited her well. He knew she wasn't out of her teens but she didn't act like it. "You seem like a man who appreciates directness."

"You're not wrong," McHenry agreed. "I'm listening."

Davion leant forwards. "Since the day he returned to Sian, Chancellor Liao has been begging his Kapteyn allies to aid him against us. Well, I say begging... more demanding as if they were his vassals." His lips curled. "I do not think he is the most diplomatic of men."

The Highlander frowned and folded his arms.

"Captain-General Marik is probably expending all his efforts keeping provinces bordering the Confederation from invading the Confederation as well," the First Prince continued. "But our intelligence has reported that Coordinator Kurita has been convinced that he should divert some forces from the currently ineffectual efforts to fight off the LCAF's invasion forces to aid the Chancellor, even if he does so indirectly."

McHenry shook his head. "Why are you telling me this, your highness? This is good news for the Confederation."

"Because," the young blonde said softly, "His first target is Northwind."

A chill went through McHenry, but he tried to hide it. "Then perhaps I will be seeing Northwind sooner than I expected."

"I am sure that Takashi Kurita would be more than happy to accept the services of the Northwind Highlanders," Davion agreed with inappropriate cheer. "As long as you are happy to be treated the way the Wolf Dragoons were."

That was a telling blow, the aging colonel admitted to himself. The breakdown of relations between House Kurita and the famous mercenary brigade was already entering legend. Reports suggested that the Dragoons had lost at least half their numbers fighting their way out of the Combine, but that they had cost Kurita far more than their own number in losses on the way. Further, it was a matter of record that Colonel Wolf had dared to dress the Coordinator down in person at the wedding of the couple in front of him.

"I would want rather better terms than that," he allowed judiciously.

"How would you feel about Northwind as your landholding?" the First Prince asked, suddenly serious. "You'd be bound under Federation laws, but you would have first call on all military installations there and full grant of all federal revenue from the world for as long as you served House Davion. I'd be happy to stipulate that any other services you're called on must leave at least one regiment to guard Northwind."

McHenry eyed him warily. "Subject to all the other stipulations of being a mercenary?" he asked. "You have a reputation for working your hirelings hard, your highness. And while House Kurita's idea of honor is more duplicitous than they pretend, I know for a fact you've played fast and loose with support in the past."

Melissa nodded. "It's true. Just as my own House has sometimes found that our mercenaries are not being paid as well as was promised. And apologies matter little when those who should have been representing us have allowed greed to outweigh duty... But can you honestly say that House Liao is without reproach in their own dealings?"

The question sounded innocent, but that just made it dig in more. The Northwind Highlanders had served the Capellan Confederation and its precursor states for centuries... but Chancellor Liao favored others, such as McCarron's Armored Cavalry, above the Highlanders. "It might be said that 'tis better the Diablo we know than the Fox we do not," he demurred.

"The Thirty-Sixth Dieron Regulars," the First Prince said softly. "The Fifth Sword of Light. The Genyosha."

McHenry saw Melissa's hand creep to her husband's for comfort at the last name, though it meant nothing to him. "I know the first two," he allowed. "What of them?"

"The Genyosha are led by Yorinaga Kurita," Davion told him steadily. "Yes, that Yorinaga."

The man who had slain his brother.

"As for the other two, you know they are loyal to House Kurita. The Thirty-Sixth are capable. And what else needs to be said about the Sword of Light."

The Highlander nodded grudgingly. The Sword of Light were the elite of the Draconis Combine's Mustered Soldiery, famed and feared in equal measure. "I say again, what of them?"

"Those are the forces detailed to take Northwind," Davion told him. "They will be there within a month, perhaps sooner. We are sending everything we can spare to stop them..."

"And there it is. You need us." McHenry nodded sagely. "That you cannot defend our home does not speak well of you, your highness."

"We are sending the Kell Hounds," Melissa told him, voice a little higher than it had been earlier. "All of them."

Her husband closed his hand around hers in reassurance. "Also Team Banzai. And there is an RCT already on station: the Fifth Deneb Light Cavalry."

McHenry considered that. The numbers seemed... even. The Kell Hounds were part of Yorinaga Kurita's legend, and the reverse. Them against these Genyosha... He couldn't quite measure the Fifth Deneb against the Sword of Light, but they should match the Dieron Regulars at least. As for Team Banzai, they were more scientists than warriors by all accounts.

"What is your point?" he asked.

"Colonel," Melissa said seriously. "We also believe that an ISF detachment has been assigned to the Fifth Sword of Light, authorised to provide him with special weapons if he believes they would be of use."

"'Special weapons'?" McHenry asked, a sick feeling forming in his stomach.

"Chemical in nature," she said seriously.

The Highlander took a deep breath. Such weapons had been used all too often in the First and Second Succession Wars. They had despoiled continents... sometimes entire worlds. Since then... not so much, which was a good thing. He took a hard look at Melissa. "You heard this from your husband?"

The young woman shook her head. "My own sources."'

From the Fox, he would not believe it. From this girl... McHenry did not believe she could deceive him. If she was right... "And what are you doing?" he grated.

"A team of specialists are on their way," the First Prince told him. "But they are containment, not a cure. We need more troops there - enough that it is clearly pointless to even try such a strategy."

"And you're not prepared to pull forces out of your invasion of the Confederation?"

"Northwind is not the only world where we are concerned about such threats," Melissa told him, Steiner-eyes steely. "We are doing everything we can to help Northwind... including reaching out to you."

"Aye..." McHenry allowed, mind distant.

The two royals watched him, saying nothing.

"I cannae speak for all the Highlanders," he warned, accent slipping out. "It will take more than even just the Colonels to do this."

Hanse nodded.

"And," McHenry added, looking at Melissa. "I ken you're playing us, your highness."

"I'm playing the tune," she admitted, unflinchingly. "But it's up to you bonnie Highlanders if you'll dance."

The Highlander laughed darkly. "Aye. There's that." With Northwind itself on the table... "I will send word to the others. But in the meanwhile..."

Hanse Davion nodded and then offered his hand. "You have twenty-four hours before we land," he told McHenry. "I believe your dropships and dependents are in the city of Dust Hill. By my orders, that city is off limits to the Lancers until we've heard your people's decision... or the New Year. If it takes that long, the point will be moot."

McHenry eyed the hand, then spat on his own. He held it out, not to the First Prince but to the princess. "Can you keep this fox out of the chickenhouse, your highness?"

Melissa spat in her palm and then took his hand. "Until the new year, Colonel. Even I cannot work miracles..."

On * Our * Wedding * Day

Canton River, New Canton
Tikonov Commonality, Capellan Confederation
15 December 3028

'Mechs reared like titans above the small Armored Personnel Carrier that served as Roberta Gathos' command vehicle. It was a visible indicator of relative importance.

Other regiments had 'mechs of their own, or specialist command vans full of communications equipment (Gathos could only dream of the famed Mobile HQ vehicles used by first rate commands). But the 7th Almach Footsoldiers weren't even part of a Regimental Combat Team, just a third-rate infantry regiment called on to fill gaps where more important units couldn't be spared.

Any of the Screaming Eagles' battlemechs could have destroyed her command group without significant effort or risk to themselves. The same was true of their prey, the First Battalion of the Fourth Confederation Reserve Cavalry. It was why the plan called for the Almach Footsoldiers to only support the mercenary battlemechs on New Canton.

In the thick jungles of the northern continent, it would be all too easy for the elusive Cavalry to doubleback and devastate the lightly equipped garrison troops. That was why most of Gathos' regiment were many kilometers back from where the Capellans had at last been brought to bear.

Objectively, they weren't even a full battalion. Not much more than half of that. But the wide river was too deep and fierce here for them to escape. The Cavalry, badly outnumbered, had a choice: surrender or make their deaths as expensive as possible.

In the latter case, a fragile APC had no business being here. In the latter, Gathos shouldn't be needed.

Except that orders said otherwise and now, with less than two dozen Capellans surrounded under the guns of more than half of the First Screaming Eagles regiment, Roberta Gathos was having to put her life on the line.

She'd done a lot of stupid things in her life, the colonel thought as she watched the towering battlemechs from the cupola of her ride. Sometimes she thought signing up for the AFFS was one of them. But taking on battlemechs unsupported? That would be something new.

Gathos really, really didn't want to do that.

Ahead, she saw the battle-scarred shape of Colonel Mathis' Enforcer. The mercenaries were not blessed with an abundance of heavier battlemechs, which made little to no difference here. The Enforcer was a decent match against most of the Capellan 'mechs, after all. Gathos hit the top of the APC for the driver's attention and ordered him through the intercom to pull up at the foot of the Enforcer.

Opson Mathis suited his 'mech well. It was a tough bruiser of a 'mech, able to fight above its weight class when necessary. Mathis was a fireplug of a man, limbs bared by mechwarrior's typical garb muscular and scarred from years of combat.

"Gathos?" he called in surprise. "You're rather close to the sharp end."

She braced herself on the edge of the cupola and heaved herself up, infantry boots finding footholds that were a pain if she got rattled around in combat but made entering and leaving the vehicle much easier. From there she scrambled down the sloped glacis towards the mercenary colonel.

"Duty calls," the infantrywoman answered once she was facing the mechwarrior. "Our MIIO liaison wants to debrief your prisoners as fast as possible."

"Yeah, well, I have my own ideas about handling them," Mathis retorted with a grin that wasn't reassuring.

Gathos could see that the captured CCAF mechwarriors were each near a different 'mech, probably their own. And  recovery company in the olive fatigues used by the Screaming Eagles were working on the cockpits.

Blake's blood, she thought. It's as bad as I was warned.

"They gave you quite a chase," the woman admitted, deciding against reminding the mercenary that his contract bound him to obey AFFS regulations in handling prisoners. She doubted that this hardened merc would be impressed by legal issues. "And the Secutors are doing the same down south."

"Cappies are not up for an honest fight," Mathis said with a nod. "Shoot and scoot, which has left too many of my mechwarriors down a ride... those that made it through their ambushes."

"That's why we want them interrogated. Anything we can find out that could help us pin them down can cut down the losses of your other regiment." The Second Screaming Eagles were chasing down the other half of the Capellan garrison, the Third Battalion of Trimaldi's Secutors. It said a great deal about Capellan military organization that even when they could find two battalions to defend a world, it was beyond them to at least call on the same regiment.

Mathis turned and spat. "I doubt they talk much. Not even the same regiment."

"True, but we're not going to pass up the chance. Soldiers do gossip, after all." She folded her arms. "Do you want the good news, Colonel? Or the bad news?"

The mercenary turned his attention fully upon her. "I'm fairly sure I'm in charge here, Colonel Gathos. On this dirtball, at least, given I have two regiments of 'mechs. So any orders would be from Granny Davion, am I right?"

Gathos didn't rise to the bait of the disparaging reference to Field Marshal Yvonne Davion. The aged officer was grandmotherly, but she was also the Prince's Champion and commanded all of the invasion of the Capellan Confederation. "A little higher than that, Colonel."

Mathis paused. "Direct from the First Prince. Well, excuse me for not genuflecting at the godly authority being reflected through you. Do you need a drink or something to celebrate the privilege?"

"I think I'm tough enough to manage. Good news or bad?" she reminded him.

"Let's start with the good," he decided. "The Fox will have one hell of a hook, so I may as well sniff the bait."

That was in line with the First Prince's reputation and the infantrywoman wouldn't have argued even if she wasn't so badly outgunned. "There was always concern that the defenders here would play this sort of long game. Tying down both your regiments with a third of their number is in line with normal Capellan defensive strategy. Running down the Cavalry so quickly puts you ahead of the curve."

"And?"

"Normally you would only receive a share of the salvage," Gathos reminded him, throat a little dry. "But the First Prince is offering you uncontested rights to all the salvaged, captured or surrendered 'mechs from the CRC battalion and the Secutor battalion down south as well."

The colonel wasn't the only one to react to that, and his sharp look was matched by several eavesdroppers. There was a shrill whistle and a couple of profanities - at the very least that meant adding two full companies of 'mechs to the Screaming Eagles, possibly the better part of two battalions. More than enough to replace all the losses suffered so far by than the mercenary and still grow the unit.

Mechs, for a mercenary force built around them, were life. Money was no assurance of being able to buy them.

"That," Mathis said, voice suddenly clipped, "Is one hell of a sweetener. What does the Fox want in exchange?"

Gathos looked him in the eye. "We have a brief interval before the Secutors learn that they're the only defenders left on world. Right now they're pulling towards the Blue Dragon Mountains. The First Prince wants you to make a suborbital hop and deploy between them and the mountains."

The mercenary frowned. "Landing where?"

"Dropping," she said flatly. "Those mountains are rugged as hell, colonel. If the Secutors managed to get into them, we could be digging for months to find them. We don't have a secured LZ - for that matter, there may not be anywhere that you could set down safely to begin with."

He shook his head. "C-bills to House bills I'll lose 'men and 'mechs doing that, Colonel."

"I don't doubt it," she agreed. "But if we can encircle the Secutors before they reach the mountains, then you don't lose those same mechwarriors and their 'mechs in a thousand little ambushes like the ones you've been through."

"They might be less willing to do that once I make examples of this sorry lot," he suggested.

Carrot had been tried and failed then. Gathos tried not to let it show. "That has been tried and failed, a thousand times on a thousand worlds, Colonel. We want them alive and we need them talking, but we need them alive and surrendered to show their comrades in the Secutors that we will accept and honor their surrender."

"Soft," he hissed, under his breath.

Roberta Gathos remembered she had a combat knife in her boot and could probably kill the merc before anyone responded. Of course, that response would kill her and have the Eagles turn rogue... most likely with the Mercenary Review Board taking their side.

"Pragmatic," she corrected him. "It's that or we're still here in 3030, trying to dig Capellan resistance out of every hole on this dirtball. I don't know about you, but I have better things to do."

For a moment she thought he'd refuse just to spite her, but then he laughed. "Alright. This is going to suck, but if it didn't I suppose the First Prick would send his own regulars in. But I'm not going anywhere without in writing that we get the salvage."

Gathos took the map-case hung across her back and removed the cap. The envelope with the contracted terms was somewhat rolled up but intact. "Signed, sealed and delivered."

Mathis ripped the envelope open with his thumb and checked the contents. "Verigraphed, no less. You'd make a hell of a ComStar acolyte, Colonel." Then he raised his voice. "Alright, boys and girls. Pack it up and prepare for a hard march back to our dropships. Colonel Gathos and her merry men will be taking care of the prisoners from here."

The mercenary mechwarriors and technicians dispersed back to their rides with remarkable efficiency and what Gathos thought was relief on most faces. It was pretty clear that they had known what their colonel had in mind, and that most didn't approve. On the other hand, they had been willing enough to obey. The Eagles were close-knit and cohesive, virtues under most circumstances.

Today, it had been a near disaster, and the infantrywoman was glad her Prince had foreseen the possibility. She just wished that it had been left to someone else to resolve.

[lowrolling]

Nicely done as always and thanks for posting.  It looks like Hanse has Melissa directing him on to properly use a broom and dustpan to clean up messes that were left uncorrected and this could bode well for the future FedCom if they have both a stronger and more stable relationship with their mercs and a lot less unneeded blood on their hands.

[Daryk]

Handling the Eagles like that should earn Gathos a star... ;)

[mikecj]

We'd better hope we don't get a Kurita (Deceased)!

[PsihoKekec]

Wouldn't want to be in the boots of infantry commander who needs to stop a mech regiment from doing war crimes.

[David CGB]

We'd better hope we don't get a Kurita (Deceased)!

It may not be that bad

[Daryk]

Even if we do, my money will stay on Hanse and Melissa FTW! :)

[Dave Talley]

Tag me in boys

[drakensis]

Tillerbee Jungle, Marduk
Draconis March, Federated Suns
5 January 3029

Sho-sho Karl Gramenov had prepared for this... confrontation with the same care he would have taken if he was getting ready to take his Wolverine into battle. He had been warned by more than one superior as he rose through the ranks that unless he was very lucky, the military forces of House Davion and House Steiner would rarely rise above third place among his opponents.

Supply and procurement. Local nobility convinced that their blue blood took precedence over actual military logic. District Regulars treating any regiment outside their own brigades, the Sword of Light and maybe the Proserpina Hussars as little more than a militia. The Draconis Combine Admiralty.

Those were just a few of the other enemies that Gramenov had faced across his career, but none have ever been more dangerous that the one he was about to fight.

"I am here to see Okina-san," he said in a neutral tone to the guards posted outside the tent. Drawn from one of the regiments assigned to support his battlemechs, but he was quite sure that given the choice between obeying his commands and those of the man inside, they would prioritise obeying Okina.

Gramenov knew it was hypocritical to blame them when he would have done the same. He was a general officer of the DCMS, but even he could not ignore the dictates of a man with no stated rank, only a task.

"Okina-san," one of the guards called, not taking his eyes off Garmenov. "The Sho-sho has arrived."

"Please admit him," a soft, almost girlish voice replied.

"I can manage," he didn't quite snarl when the guard began to open the tent flap, as if the officer had never seen a standard-issue headquarters tent before. He unfastened it and pushed inside, turning to close it behind him.

The only occupant sat behind a portable test stacked with a portable terminal and a considerable amount of documents. If there had been three or more men and desks, it could have been part of the Second Amphigean Light Assault Group's own staff facilities. "I am pleased you have visited, Sho-sho," Tarou Okina said, voice polite even though he did not look up from the file open in his hands. "I was about to request your attendance at your convenience."

Apparently satisfied, the ISF officer snapped the file closed and dropped it on the desk before rising and offering a bow at the exact angle appropriate to equals. "I can be sure, at least, that I am not making that request at an inopportune moment for your operations."

There was no really good time to be called in by the ISF, but Gramenov knew that Okina was, if not sincere, then at least aware that such a summons did need to be balanced against military necessity. Over the four years that Okina had been his ISF liaison, the man had been quite flexible about unavoidable delays in meeting when he deemed it necessary.

He also knew that while Okina was small and unremarkable in his unmarked fatigues, looking not very different from one of the brigade clerks, those delicate looking hands were callused by extensive martial arts training. On one all too memorable occasion, the liaison had disposed of a Davion infiltrator with his bare hands. And his fatigues had been unrumpled in the aftermath.

"Is there urgent business?" the Sho-sho asked, taking the seat across from Okina's desk without asking.

The ISF officer exhaled slightly. "I have been informed via HPG that there is a high probability of AFFS forces from the Crucis March being relocated to the Galtor region in the last four weeks. Estimated strength of perhaps a full Regimental Combat Team."

Gramenov felt the field-chair creak as he leant forwards suddenly. "I would say that the ISF's information is accurate."

"Later than I would have liked," Okina allowed. "I imagine that the message crossed with my own advising that the local militia had been reinforced by the Kestrel Crucis March Militia." He looked sympathetic. "Your recon lances have done excellent work in confirming the nature and number of our enemies here."

The Amphigean officer nodded in acceptance of the praise. "I will pass on your congratulations to them. Everything that can bolster morale is welcome at this point."

"Ah. I take it that progress has been... limited?"

Gramenov sighed. "The situation is not favorable to a quick victory."

Given the Amphigeans' quasi-mercenary nature, the Coordinator's recent distaste for hired soldiers put them in a difficult position. Officially, there was no disfavor, but there was a wariness to Gramenov's dealings with other DCMS officers over the last few months. Victory against the Dragon's enemies would have validated the LAG's loyalties, but he could not offer that right now.

Okina nodded slowly. "So an eventual victory is not in doubt?"

Gramenov made a face. "There are no absolutes in war, but if no further reinforcements arrive, then the CMM's forces will not be able to hold out forever. They are garrison units pulled out of soft postings inside the interior of the Suns. Bolstered by the remaining militia and entrenched in these damned swamps..." He regretted the curse immediately but what was said was said.

The ISF officer spread his hands. "I appreciate that a third of your battlemechs are detached to support the secondary forces securing the rest of this world. Your confidence in eventually overcoming this adversity is praiseworthy."

"I am sure that both of our superiors would prefer better news," Gramenov allowed.

"Naturally." Okina steepled his fingers. "I can inform you that the First Amphigean have not faced so much resistance upon Galtor. Unfortunately, insurgents continue to challenge the restored authority of House Kurita over the world, so there are limits to the available reinforcements."

There was no point even asking about support from Regulars. The Galedon District forces were entirely committed to avenging the humiliation of their Warlord by attacking worlds defended by the Wolf Dragoons. Benjamin District was under no such burden but the Warlord had committed his available reserves to fight the Lyrans on the far side of the District. "Even a regiment of conventional armor or infantry would help."

Okina arched his eyebrows politely. "I will be happy to endorse such a request," he observed. "I would hope that by the time that they arrive, subversive elements here will have been isolated and removed so that you can bring your full battlemech strength to bear."

Gramenov hoped he didn't look less than confident. Normally, the Panthers that made up the bulk of his regiment's battlemech forces would have been an excellent choice for fighting in the swamps around Marduk's greatest prize: the Norse-Storm battlemech factory. Unfortunately, the Amphigeans had modified most of their Panthers to remove the jump-jets and fit larger fusion reactors so that they could keep up with faster 'mechs on open grounded.

That had been done long ago and the resource cost of reversing it would prohibitive - the parts would need to be shipped from factories in Rasalhague, and it would require thousands of man-hours from a very limited pool of sufficiently trained and experienced technicians. As much as Gramenov didn't want to admit it, unmodified Panthers from another brigade might be a better choice... but it was would disgrace the LAG to admit that.

"That would be helpful," he confirmed. "Mechwarrior to mechwarrior, I have faith in my Amphigeans but the CMM have almost a full regiment, plus the militia, so having only two battalions available is ceding them more advantage. With our full numbers and additional hovercraft, the situation would be more favorable to taking the factory."

Okina pursed his lips. "We must assume that the Fox is aware that he is only buying time," he mused. "I shall remind my superiors that the Coordinator has prioritised depriving Davion of this world both for the glory of the Dragon and to honor our alliance with House Liao. If any further reinforcements are sent then it would be preferable that we know about them before they arrive."

"I understand that there are no more absolutes in the duties of our ISF comrades than there are in battle," Gramenov conceded. "I would be grateful for forewarning if it can be provided, but I am sure that if it cannot then it will not be for lack of effort."

That got a smile from the ISF officer that almost tempted the Amphigean to trust the spy a little. Almost. "And you may rest assured that the delays here are in no part a lack of effort from you or your warriors. While the Dragon has been offended by some mercenaries, my superiors have made it clear that for your regiment to take heavy losses to demonstrate you fidelity would not serve the Coordinator's wishes. And that is, of course, our highest duty."

"Of course." Gramenov bowed his head slightly in agreement. This conversation had gone very well.

Then Okina leant back in his chair. "Regrettably, the fact that Davion sent reinforcements here suggests that he had some advance information about the planning of this operation." He gave Gramenov a significant look. "I am currently satisfied that those officers cleared for the plans are low threats to security, but this raises the unfortunate possibility that someone not cleared for them managed to obtain access."

"I... see.."

The ISF officer smiled without any visible happiness. "I will be overseeing an investigation of the enlisted personnel who may have had opportunity to clandestinely compromise your security. It is to be hoped that we identify any such spies before your reinforcements arrive."

Gramenov didn't trust that he had hidden his horror at the idea of a witch-hunt through his staff for a spy who might need to exist. There was nothing he could say. The disruption that would be caused, the corrosive effect on morale: that didn't concern the ISF at all. Okina had the prospect of a Davion spy to find and Gramenov knew that he would no more pass it up than a zealous samurai would decline the chance to duel an AFFS officer.

Duty, masking a desire for glory. Perhaps that was the true greatest foe he faced as an officer of the Amphigean LAG.

On * Our * Wedding * Day

Castle Davion, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Suns
20 January 3029

Quintus Allard was far too professional to wince as Hanse passed sensitive data to Melissa across the breakfast table without a qualm. The young-old princess could still tell that he didn't like it, she'd been learning to identify hidden reactions like that since... well, she couldn't remember what it was like not to be looking for them. Growing up in the Triad did that to a girl and she wasn't entirely sure why Victor had been so slow about it.

He'd learn one day -

And there it was, that mental hiccup of remembering that her son would not get to grips with that part of being a ruler. Or, metaphysically, that he might be doing so in some separate universe that she'd never see.

The covert trip to Jonathan to negotiate with the Northwind Highlanders had been a wonderful chance at a honeymoon with Hanse, albeit one spent in cramped dropship quarters while being ferried through a quasi-command circuit of troopships and freighters supporting the operation. Other than that, and to an extent because Hanse had to catch up on what took place in his absence, they'd spent more time asleep next to each other than consciously in each other's company.

It had given Melissa time to think and to read. It was unfortunate that they didn't dare to talk to theoretical physicists about their experience (NAIS had researchers who might even take them seriously), but the political risk of being thought delusional was just too high.

"Bad news?" asked Morgan, seeing her face.

Hanse's nephew was better at reading people than he gave himself credit, she thought and looked at the paper again. Unlike the news from Northwind, which had been unexpectedly good, this was not surprising.

Yorinaga Kurita had co-operated with the Dieron Regulars to pin the Kell Hounds in the hopes that he could duel Morgan Kell again, while the Fifth Sword of Light maneuvered against both Team Banzai and the Deneb Light Cavalry. With Kell more focused on buying time than on satisfying Yorinaga's goals, that left the DCMS making less progress than they had liked and someone had grown impatient, employing the same ptomaine as she and Hanse remembered.

The difference was that this time the AFFS had been alert, the contamination was detected and a water ban imposed. Not everyone had paid attention and there had been losses, but thousands of soldiers and civilians had escaped the deaths that Melissa had heard of in her first life.

And later that same day, the Northwind Highlanders arrived at a pirate point over homeworld, their first contact with the defenders confirming that Melissa and Hanse's warning had been on the nose. And that the defenders were grimly determined that the DCMS forces would not be allowed to disengage and flee to their dropships.

Yorinaga Kurita had stood almost alone to defend the retreat of the Genyosha, wreaking havoc until Morgan gave him the duel that he wanted. Which had gone about as well as Melissa expected for the samurai although he had saved about half his regiment. In contrast the Fifth Sword of Light and the Thirty-Sixth Dieron Regulars had been torn to shreds - caught between the Team Banzai and the Deneb Light Cavalry on their heels and the four regiments of fresh and furious Northwind Highlanders who had cut them off from their dropships. Less than a tenth of either regiment had survived that gauntlet.

It would be morbidly amusing if Takashi Kurita, receiving reports of this, declared a ban on bagpipes as well as mercenaries, Melissa thought.

Back in the moment, she looked across the table at Morgan and handed the paper back to Hanse. "I'm sorry, Morgan. I have very bad news. Could you give us the room, Quintus? This is a family matter."

The spymaster looked to Hanse and whatever he saw must have made it clear that on this point, Melissa spoke for both of them. He drew back politely towards the door.

"Is it mom? No... it's dad, isn't it?" Morgan asked, gripping the breakfast table with his powerful hands. He looked very young to Melissa, although he was her elder by five years. Except he wasn't now, not really.

"Kym," Hanse began, but his nephew cut him off.

"You said family, Hanse. As far as I am concerned -"

"She is family," the First Prince completed the words. "I understand, Morgan."

"Tell me what has happened!"

"You're going to need some context," Melissa told him softly. "Your parents are both alive. It's... not that."

Morgan relaxed, but only slightly. "Tell me what happened," he repeated.

"We've long suspected that the Capellan ambassador on New Syrtis had flipped someone high up in your father's confidence," Hanse began, drawing Morgan's attention away from Melissa. "Unfortunately, given the... friction between us, Michael interpreted any investigation as an attack on his people. They are, after all, by definition, his trusted subordinates."

The younger Davion looked away. "I see. Or rather, I don't know where you're going with this." Kym Sorenson, sat next to him, reached over and took Morgan's hand comfortingly, a touch that lured him into relaxing his grip upon the table. Which was a relief, because however sturdy it might be, Melissa could have sworn it was beginning to creak.

"To prove it, we had to bait the agent out," Melissa's husband continued. "The Maskirova are well aware that an agent at the hand of the lord of the Capellan March is too valuable to risk betraying by acting openly on what they're learning. So we had to offer something so critical that they couldn't afford not to use it operationally. And with Operation Rat tearing through their territory..."

"You fed my father a lie," Morgan accepted. "I get it. But what went wrong?"

Hanse looked pained, sincerely pained. Not for what Michael had earned, but for how this would hurt the nephew he loved like a brother. "Nothing went wrong. The CCAF leapt at what they thought were lightly guarded supply bases and ran directly into AFFS regiments regrouping after our initial waves. The Capellans were badly outnumbered and only one of their task forces escaped."

Axton, which hadn't been part of the bait at all. Or at least that was what they wanted Maximilian Liao to think. Justin Xiang Allard must have added the world into Chancellor Liao's plan. Melissa wasn't in love with what Hanse had planned to deal with that, he was over-complicating things again... but that was a matter for another day.

She leant forwards. "Morgan, when MIIO let your father know the real situation, we hoped that he would be convinced of the reality of the situation, that one of his most trusted officers was a traitor. That he'd work with us to find them. Perhaps even that the spy would bolt or otherwise betray themself. At the very least, we could expel the Capellan ambassador for espionage."

"And?" Morgan asked, blue eyes wide with anticipation. Half at finding out at last what was so wrong, half at finding out how this elaborate trap had worked. Like his uncle, he loved it when a plan came together.

"The Capellan ambassador departed for a diplomatic jumpship back to the Confederation," Hanse said soberly. "And your father took his personal shuttle... and joined him."

"...no." There was something broken about that syllable from Morgan.

Kym put one arm around her lover's shoulder. "Breathe," she ordered, and he looked sideways at her and obeyed.

"It's possible that there is some other explanation," Hanse offered, although both he and Melissa knew that it was exactly what it looked like. "But the simplest explanation is that..."

"That my father is the traitor," Morgan admitted, with no less moral courage than Melissa would have expected in a man who had spent twenty years as their strong right hand in the future that they knew. "But my father hates the Capellans! What could they possibly have offered him?"

Hanse remained silent.

Melissa did the same.

Morgan knew the truth. That his father also hated and envied Hanse Davion. And the young lord was too intelligent not to realise where that led: that Michael Hasek-Davion had tried to play his enemies off against each other, only to get caught between two much more capable schemers.

"I... I need..." Morgan clasped onto Kym Sorenson's hands like a drowning man.

"With your father... missing, you are the acting head of House Hasek," Hanse told him.

Melissa hated this, but her husband was right. Duty was a lifeline to Davion men. It was a strength, but it had a nasty way of getting them killed. And Morgan was a Davion at heart.

The towering redhead nodded, mind seizing on this as something else to think about. "With their reserves shattered by these ambushes, they cannot stop us taking the Teng salient," he proposed. "My father's loyal troops need direction - I could give you half of the St Ives Commonality for your first wedding anniversary," he added with a weak smile at Melissa.

"I appreciate the thought," she told him. "But your father is not the only noble conducting private diplomacy. Candace Liao has offered to keep the St Ives Armored Cavalry out of the war if we leave her Commonality alone. I think you can see how valuable keeping those regiments sideline would be."

Morgan nodded sharply, already incorporating that into his ideas. "Yes, that's... if we can trust her, that's huge." And then he said something that sounded disturbingly like Hanse. "Let's test her resolve."

Hanse leant forward eagerly, "Tell me what you have in mind."

Melissa and Kym exchanged long-suffering looks as their men began to talk military planning, plates and cutlery becoming markers on the table, food forgotten.

[Daryk]

If they've figured out how to hold Marduk, that's huge! :)

[The Wobbly Guy]

They almost won the first time round... this time they're simply OPed, unless some other leaders return too.

Let's see: Teddy K died during the jihad, so he'll probably have even more knowledge of what might be in store than Mel. But say he returns just as the War of '39 is going for the worst since Hanse doesn't fall for the trick... what can he do?

Ulric K: He dies at the end of the Refusal War. He returns just as he loses the Trial of Refusal against the invasion. What will he do?

The joker in the pack: Myndo Waterly returns!

Edit: the premise of this fic is broadly similar to the outstanding webtoon Villainess Lives Twice, where the FL and ML both go back in time. Only the FL has her complete past memories at the start tho, while the ML and other select characters slowly gain memories of their 'other' lives. VLT is one of the best political maneuvering stories I've ever read, weaving together politics, religion, and economics as the FL inexorably pushes the ML towards the throne.
https://www.webtoons.com/en/romance/the-villainess-lives-again/list?title_no=9429

[lowrolling]

Great continuation and thanks for posting.  Nice touches by hanse and Melissa to try to keep changes to a bare minimum to avoid any unforeseen complications.

[Lupuseverto]

When he went to sleep he was Frederick  steiner, he wakes up as anastasius Fochs.

[drakensis]

the premise of this fic is broadly similar to the outstanding webtoon Villainess Lives Twice, where the FL and ML both go back in time. Only the FL has her complete past memories at the start tho, while the ML and other select characters slowly gain memories of their 'other' lives. VLT is one of the best political maneuvering stories I've ever read, weaving together politics, religion, and economics as the FL inexorably pushes the ML towards the throne.
https://www.webtoons.com/en/romance/the-villainess-lives-again/list?title_no=9429

I did enjoy that webtoon.

[Nikas_Zekeval]

Morgan seems to be coming off the bench more quickly this time around.  Also, Hanse was alot more upfront about what Michael was probably doing than the story he sold Morgan in canon.

Guess both are a function of Hanse knowing Morgan better, rather than having doubts which way he'd jump.

[PsihoKekec]

It's funny how critical intelligence always comes down to plates.

[AngryButler with a KNIFE!]

Hanse & Melissa need to pull some energy from Chris' fic (and the obvious from Becerra), by smugly walking up to Jamie Wolf, and asking how the weather is on Strana Mechty...

...and then continue walking on by as if they really had just commented on the weather somewhere. Meanwhile of course, about 30 different hidden bodyguards are taking holo-pics of Jamie's reaction from every conceivable angle that the couple can view privately later whenever they feel the need to laugh hysterically.

[drakensis]

Tamar City, Tamar
Tamar Pact, Lyran Commonwealth
18 February 3029

Duke Selwin III Kelswa waited for the ComStar acolyte delivering his mail to leave the room before opening it. The Archon's message had been transferred from one star to the next via radio transmission sent through a microscopic hyperspace portal generated by mechanisms that only the deeply private Order understood... although the duke knew he was not alone in thinking that either ComStar hid its agenda behind a veneer of religion, or had actually forgotten all the science behind Hyper Pulse Generators and were operating on rote understanding of black boxes that could not be replaced if they failed.

After all that use of some of the Star League's greatest technological accomplishments, the final stage of the journey involved the acolyte driving from the HPG station to the ducal palace in a ground car that used technology that dated back to... how old were internal combustion engines? A thousand years, at least.

Selwin took an ornamental letter opener from his desk and slit the envelope crisply. There were worlds, he knew, where grizzled ComStar acolytes might ride days by horse to deliver mail. Some of those worlds were under his governance, a minor source of shame.

The letter within was far longer than it needed to be, but there was considerately a summary on the first page.

The duke scanned the summary, frowned and then read it again before reaching for his intercom. "Have Morasha and Nicole called to my office please," he instructed, before setting the summary aside and started examining the full contents of the message.

A knock at the door heralded the arrival of his niece, wearing the uniform of the Kelswa Guards.

"Read this," Selwin instructed, passing her the summary. "Morasha should be here soon."

Nicole pursed her lips and accepted the page. Her expression grew more sour as she read, but when she opened her mouth, her uncle shook his head. "Wait for Morasha. No use repeating yourself."

It wasn't very much longer before the youngest member of House Kelswa arrived. "I'm sorry for the delay, father," she apologised. "Nicole. I was, uh, in a conversation it was hard to conclude."

"A summons from the duke should not need an excuse," Nicole critiqued.

"The impression of urgency can cause problems," replied Morasha. "How can I help, father?"

Selwin gestured to the summary. He was almost done with the letter. "Get caught up while I finish this."

His daughter took it and gave it her careful attention.

Once he was done reading, the duke dropped it on his desk in easy reach of both young women. "What's your impression?" he asked.

Both spoke at once, then Morasha politely gestured for her cousin to speak first.

"She does not respect you, uncle," Nicole accused. "Katrina thinks she is better than you."

Selwin managed not to smile to the bone-deep loyalty. "Isn't she? I rule a third of the Lyran Commonwealth, yet she is our Archon. I am an excellent tactician, yet she is one of the finest strategists since Kerensky herself. It is not a comment on my own qualities for her to be above me. What do you think, Morasha? Am I being disrespected?"

His daughter shook her head slightly. "This is not everything that you asked for, is it? A modification of your own proposal?"

Selwin felt a pang of disappointment that Morasha avoided the question. "Correct. I proposed the immediate reintegration of all worlds secured from House Kurita so far back into the Tamar Pact... well, those that had once been under our rule." He chuckled. "Margaret Aten would have complaints if I claimed worlds along her own border."

Morasha nodded. "Duchess Aten is one of Katrina's closest political allies, and a friend too. By granting both you and the Duchess of Skye authority over a number of worlds, it could be said that the Archon is merely being even-handed."

"Those who don't look at a map," snapped Nicole. "Look at the worlds she is asking uncle to take on! Do you see Weingarten? Moritz? The key worlds around Tamar itself and she doesn't trust House Kelswa to bring them back into the fold, instead focusing on nothing worlds."

"Five worlds are hardly a nothing," disagreed Morasha. "And she talks of others in the future."

"Both of you have good points," Selwin cut in before the disagreement could escalate to argument. "Nicole, bring out a map and mark out the area we are being given control over. Morasha..." He pushed the full letter to her. "Read the details."

Thus instructed, he watched Morasha reading for a moment, until Nicole found a folded star chart of the border area, still showing the worlds in question marked as being under Kuritan occupation. She laid it out on the map and then took tokens from a jar to identify those mentioned in the letter.

Selwin caught Morasha splitting her attention between the letter and the map and hid another sigh. He loved her, but he could have wished for a more studious heir. "What do you make of it?" he asked once Nicole was done.

"It's contiguous," his niece conceded grudgingly. The swathe of worlds ran from New Caledonia on the edge of the Inner Sphere, to Unzmarkt, deep inside Rasalhague District. "But these are poorer worlds."

Morasha frowned. "I think I see why." She walked to one of Selwin's book-cases and searched before producing a tome. Her father and cousin watched as she leafed through it. "Look," she said at last, laying the book flat on the map. "These are worlds that the Combine has held since the end of the Second Succession War."

Nicole snorted harshly. "She gives us the worst of it, again!"

"No," Selwin said firmly. "Katrina does not give us a challenge because she expects defeat, she does so because she has confidence in us."

"That is how she operates," Morasha agreed. "And while I didn't hear it from an official source, these worlds surround the Csesztreg salient and that is a priority region for the next wave of attacks."

The duke paused and looked at his daughter. "That is so, yes."

"How do you know that/?" Nicole asked her cousin suspiciously.

"I talk to people."

"Not official sources."

"I heard it officially," Selwin told his niece, "But where did you learn it Morasha? Do we have a security risk?"

"Not unless you think the Archon-Designate is a potential traitor," she said sweetly.

He nodded solemnly. "Take a look at the full letter, Nicole. Reading between the lines, the Archon expects us to establish not only proper government of these worlds but also a system to replicate as we advance deeper into the Combine. If the DCMS continues to shatter under our offensive, those few worlds could be the start of a swathe as deep as Radstadt or even Rasalhague."

"..." Nicole snatched the letter and started reading.

"Our administrators will need security," Morasha noted cautiously. "Does this mean the Grave Walkers will be leaving Tamar?"

"I think not," the duke assured her, shaking his head. "The Dragon is wounded, not dead. Even if they lose the last few worlds that could stage a full invasion, I cannot rule out a raid. However, with the mercenaries here I can spare some of the Kelswa Guard."

Nicole looked up eagerly.

"Yes, a chance for you to make your name," he confirmed. "Your company of 'mechs and a mercenary force of tanks that I have contracted will be the seeds of the military fist backing up our reclaiming worlds that have long been under the Kuritan heel. If the Archon scattered our efforts, we could not keep up, but here we will be focused, providing the Commonwealth with a bastion of loyal worlds on our flank. For all the distance between Tharkad and Tamar, we are not far from her thoughts."

They were pretty words, he thought. Now all he had to do was convince himself that they were true. Because he had tried to wrest worlds from the Kuritans before. If Katrina intended to push further, then she might be about to overstretch the Commonwealth's resources, opening the border to a devastating counterattack. And Tamar would be right in their path.

On * Our * Wedding * Day

Castle Davion, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Suns
4 March 3029

Melissa and Hanse had, long ago, back in the first year of their marriage (albeit that in this life they hadn't been married a full year yet) agreed never to go to bed angry with each other. When she saw Hanse laid out on their bed, arms by his side and body tensed as if he was on parade, Melissa guessed they wouldn't be going to sleep  soon.

Or doing any of the other fun things involving beds that often led them going to sleep exhausted.

She went to the dresser and started brushing out her hair. It didn't really need it, she'd brushed and combed it earlier while Hanse was in a late meeting, but it felt more honest than lying next to him while he wasn't ready for anything that that involved. "You're upset," she observed.

Hanse grunted acknowledgement.

"If it was something that happened in the meeting..."

"I'd be telling you about it," her husband admitted. "No. Everything is going well, or as well as can be expected. We need a bit longer to consolidate, before we can get back to kicking Capellan ass. Not just soldiers, we need jumpships to handle some commercial traffic... but it's not unexpected."

Melissa nodded. They'd known it was coming, worked together to tweak the planning for it. "So you're mad at me."

In the mirror, she saw him roll over to look at her. "I could never be mad at you," Hanse said, the sentiment sweet even if his voice was . "But I'm... I disagree with what you're planning."

She put down the hairbrush and turned to look at him. "You mean Uncle Frederick."

Her husband nodded wordlessly and Melissa took a deep breath. They had talked about this before, but evidently it had not been conclusive to Hanse's mind. And it wasn't just because he disagreed. He had been wary of her going to Jonathan, insisted on going with her... but he hadn't been this stubborn.

"Neither of us persuaded the other last time we talked about this," she pointed out. "Going over old ground isn't going to change that, so... why does this bother you so much more than any other time we've quarrelled?"

"We've never quarrelled, Melissa," Hanse protested. "We just... disagree."

"Not this vehemently."

He fell silent for a moment. "You're making opposition for yourself."

"If I fail," Melissa allowed cautiously, "Which is possible, then he might remain an opponent. Does this really make anything worse?"

"Showing your hand like this could let him fight back against your mother. She got rid of him very tidily last time, why do you want to change that?"

She looked at her husband and sighed. "Hanse, at the risk of quoting a Capellan at you, the truest victory is to turn an enemy into a friend. Not killing them."

"You're butchering that quote," he accused her lightly. "And Sun-Tzu wasn't a Capellan. He was Chinese... well, pre-Chinese if I recall anything about that period of history."

"That doesn't really counter my point," she told him, leaning forwards. Not enough to make her night-dress revealing, which would be cheating. "You would have cut a deal with Duke Hasek-Davion if he hadn't cut and run..."

"That's different."

"How?"

"Michael has no claim on the throne," Hanse argued. "He could have argued regency for Morgan, when he was younger, but Morgan would never follow his lead now. At most, he'd be an irritant in the Capellan March. Someone like Aldo Lestrade, who I note you have no intention of making any sort of compromise with. Frederick wants your mother's throne, and if - god forbid - he gets rid of her, he has an actual chance of taking it from you."

"Bestow a little confidence upon me, Hanse," she said with a laugh that masked a stab.

He noticed and winced. "I'm sorry. And I'm not saying he'd have a good chance. But he's just stupid enough to try anyway and he would be far more damaging than..."

"We are already dealing with Ryan Steiner as the heir to Alessandro Steiner's ambitions," Melissa pointed out. "I can't count offhand how many problems he caused. How is Frederick worse than Ryan?"

"Ryan is smart enough to know how much he can push. He's dangerous - or he will be. But he'll pick his moment, and he knows this isn't it. Frederick could just turn up on Tharkad, make or find a power vacuum and expect everything to work out," Hanse pointed out. "He's militarily credible, and a lot of people see him as representing the traditional Lyran strengths." He didn't laugh at those words, although Melissa knew some AFFS officers would have.

"That's what makes him valuable if this works," she pointed out. "If he reneges, or doesn't take the offer, we can still string him up for approaching Alessandro for support in a coup."

Hanse slapped the bedcovers beside himself. "If we don't change that by accident. Call it chaos theory or butterfly effect, but we can't expect everything to keep playing out the same way."

"I think I said the same about your Capellan gambit," Melissa pointed out a little tartly. "Which we still haven't seen the results of, admittedly. I know it's a gamble, Hanse."

"I cannot deny the charge of hypocrisy," her husband admitted. "But..."

She waited.

"But...?" she asked after it was clear Hanse wasn't going to reply.

Hanse looked away for a moment. "You'll need to return to the Commonwealth," he pointed out. "This isn't a message you can send by HPG. That means that if things go wrong, you'll be hundreds of light years from any help I can give you."

Melissa closed her eyes. It was sweet, it was loving, it was a little condescending. Hanse was like that, and she didn't hate that protective streak. "My love, if our experience tells us anything, you are more likely to find yourself in danger than I will."

"Things can change," he said awkwardly and she knew he was thinking of another woman. One who had been taken from him long before he met her. Almost before Melissa was walking and talking.

"Will any of those things change you charging into battle if New Avalon comes under attack again?" she asked. Intellectually, she knew that after-action reports and later evidence made it clear that the attack on NAIS hadn't been the real Death Commandos, but some much less capable force equipped to mimic them. Hanse had still charged alone into their rear and been severely outnumbered. He'd been wounded! It wouldn't have taken much of a change for him to die!

Hanse paused. "I know you want me to say that I won't... but..."

"But you won't lie to me?"

He shook his head and sighed. "You know, you're acting as if you're older than I am."

"You look it," she said and then regretted the words.

He laughed and some of the tension went out of both of them. "Melissa, how old do you look right now?"

She flushed. He lacked the white in his hair and some of the lines... but she was almost a child again. "You're handling this better than I am, Hanse."

"I have had a long time to get used to pretending," he denied. "Come here. I think we're done arguing."

Melissa stood up and walked obediently over to the bed, sitting down so that she could take his hand. "NAIS..."

"Objectively, you're right. But it's a Davion thing," he told her. "It can be taken too far... God knows, Ian wasn't the first of us to do that. But if we are not willing to bleed alongside those fighting for us then we are unworthy."

"A Davion thing..." she flopped down next to him.

"Frederick... it's a Steiner thing, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it is." She rolled over and kissed his brow. "This is a Steiner thing. It's the duty of a Steiner woman to recognise when their sons, brothers and uncles are erring, and to bring them back in line."

Her husband wrapped his arms around her. "I... I am tempted to promise you that I would stay in a bunker, but we both know I'd be lying."

Melissa kissed him again. "I wouldn't be disappointed if you were smarter about it! And I would absolutely appreciate your advice in how I do this. But we both have our bottom lines."

"I will fight and bleed to keep you safe," Hanse whispered. "And you will no doubt try to keep me in line."

She rewarded her husband with a kiss, and from there they put irreconcilable desires aside for the rest of the night.

[Daryk]

Very glad to see Melissa making a run at Frederick! :)

[lowrolling]

Great continuation and thanks for sharing.  Master stroke if successful.  The FedCom keeps a great mind and Comstar is denied an outlet to further power.  I like how this is going, both parties are just trying to make minor changes as they go.

[PsihoKekec]

Did Melissa ever learn who Anastasius is?