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    BattleTech: The Damocles Sanction: BattleTech, #114
    BattleTech: The Damocles Sanction: BattleTech, #114
    BattleTech: The Damocles Sanction: BattleTech, #114
    Ebook431 pages5 hours

    BattleTech: The Damocles Sanction: BattleTech, #114

    By Michael J. Ciaravella

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    • Leadership

    • Loyalty

    • Political Intrigue

    • War

    • Betrayal

    • Space Opera

    • Military Science Fiction

    • Big Bad

    • Chessmaster

    • Heroic Sacrifice

    • Dragon

    • Last Stand

    • Reluctant Ruler

    • Mentor

    • Hero's Journey

    • Military Strategy

    • Power Struggle

    • Politics

    • Loyalty & Betrayal

    • Science Fiction

    About this ebook

    TO REFORGE A NATION…

    The once-mighty Federated Suns has been weakened by years of conflict on both sides of its border. Its proud capitol, New Avalon, has been held by its mortal enemy, the Draconis Combine, for years, forcing First Prince Julian Davion to rule his fractious nation on the run. 

    But at long last, the time to liberate New Avalon from the Dragon is at hand. And despite very different opinions as to how they retake the Davion family's seat of power, Julian and his Prince's Champion, Field Marshal Erik Sandoval, must work together to free the planet, the first step to rebuilding their proud nation.
    Yet liberating New Avalon is only the first step. While the First Prince attempts to hold the marches together and the Prince's Champion battles Draconis Combine forces on nearby worlds, new threats lurk around every corner. Facing dangers both at home and abroad, both men must fight to preserve the Davion throne while ensuring their own rivalry doesn't spark a brand-new conflict—one that could tear the Federated Suns apart all over again…
     

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCatalyst Game Labs
    Release dateDec 29, 2022
    ISBN9798215115954
    BattleTech: The Damocles Sanction: BattleTech, #114

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      Book preview

      BattleTech - Michael J. Ciaravella

      PROLOGUE

      THE FL CONGLOMERATE BUILDING

      AVALON CITY

      NEW AVALON

      DRACONIS COMBINE

      5 JANUARY 3151

      Stephen, you’d better get a move on!

      Glancing at the small, golf-bag-shaped silver clock on the edge of his desk, Stephen Cartwright’s eyes widened in shock as he saw the time. Nodding to his coworker Tom, he quickly saved the file he’d been working on, grabbed his jacket, and scurried toward the elevator with the others.

      While Stephen would regularly work late into the night, especially at tax time, he had to be mindful of the curfew instituted by Gunji-no-Kanrei Matsuhari Toranaga, the Draconis Combine’s Deputy for Military Affairs, who had captured the planet of New Avalon nearly five years ago. While Stephen could walk around his neighborhood in the suburbs several kilometers from the city without even seeing the curled dragon emblem of the Combine, the Draconis Combine Mustered Soldiery was taking no chances with those who lived and worked within Avalon City itself. Combine infantry were posted at checkpoints and sent on roving patrols, and they enforced a rigid curfew from dusk onward. What was worse, the so-called Friendly Persuaders, the constabulary force put in place by the gunji-no-kanrei to oversee the population, had shown themselves less forgiving than the law enforcement they had replaced, and less constrained by the limits of the city itself.

      Luckily for Stephen, an accountant was considered a respectable sarariman position, which allowed him the freedom to stay out slightly after curfew, with the firm he worked for granting him a pass. He was a respected member of the community, and as long as he devoted himself to his work, the DCMS forces didn’t bother him. Leaving the covered garage, he nodded respectfully to the uniformed Friendly Persuader at the corner, who gave him permission to pass with a curt nod in return.

      As he pulled out into the street, farther down the block Stephen could see a group of people walking purposefully away from him, carrying what looked to be signs, but the distance was too great for him to read the writing. With a shrug, he turned in the opposite direction, and began heading home.

      Still, he admitted a certain level of concern on the drive, passing through at least three checkpoints just to depart the city. Only then did he light the single cigarette he enjoyed during his drive. He had just returned to working at the home office following the Christmas holiday, following the departure of some fellow workers. Stephen hadn’t asked, but office gossip said one of his coworkers had been caught with restricted items in his car, so Combine forces had taken him in for interrogation. Several others had quickly come down with sudden illnesses shortly after, afflictions that hadn’t allowed them to return to the office.

      Well, they have to do what’s right for them, Stephen thought, watching the city fade behind him in the rearview mirror. They might be content to just live off their savings for a while, but I need to make sure my family is provided for…

      Trade goods, especially luxury goods, had been scarce since the occupation began, and the Draconis Combine forces continued taking the lion’s share of anything valuable. To their credit, they hadn’t tried taking anything already in the hands of citizens, but Stephen believed this was only a practical measure; while people might be a little upset not to get the newest holovid or entertainment system because of scarcity, as long as their homes weren’t being actively robbed, the average citizen seemed willing to wait out the situation.

      While news from off-planet remained scarce, constrained by strict censorship on any information that might put the occupiers in a poor light, a recent surge of rumors claimed that the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns, under command of First Prince Julian Davion, had recently liberated several other Federated Suns worlds. No one on New Avalon, regardless of allegiance, could imagine the First Prince would abandon the conquered capital of his nation, that he would never seek to reclaim it.

      Until then, the people waited.

      To be fair, it was not the worst occupation the planet had been forced to bear. While Stephen had been too young to remember the Word of Blake Jihad, his grandfather had told him plenty of stories about what he’d endured before the AFFS forces had driven the Blakists from their world. It always made him smile to remember how his grandfather had waxed eloquently about how former First Prince Victor Steiner-Davion had helped create the Republic of the Sphere. To hear him tell it, Victor had personally raised up Devlin Stone from the rabble and built the Republic in the image of what the Federated Suns had once been, and he was stubbornly unwilling to hear any argument that may have contradicted his recollection of history.

      While Stephen had always though it had been simply an affectation, the Combine invasion of New Avalon had forced him to alter his thinking, making him wonder if his grandfather had secretly hoped that with the Republic maintaining the peace between the various nations, his descendants would never have to suffer such hardship.

      If only it were so…

      While Stephen had grown up in the peaceful times of the Republic, it hadn’t remained peaceful. First Gray Monday had devastated interstellar communications between worlds, then dozens of clashes arose between major powers, with everyone seemingly grabbing whatever they could for themselves. The plowshares were forged back into swords, and the Federated Suns was no exception from the madness, leading to the death of Harrison Davion, beloved First Prince of the Federated Suns. The brief reign of his unstable son, Caleb, had finally allowed the Draconis Combine the opportunity to strike at New Avalon, clutching it in the suffocating grip of the dragon’s talons.

      Pulling into the driveway, Stephen quickly put out the cigarette he had lit, careful to make sure there was no sign of it on him before entering the house. Cologne and mouthwash could only do so much, but it was the thought that counted. At the entrance to his ivy-covered red-brick home, he was reaching for the door handle when it swung inward, forcing him to take a step back in surprise.

      His wife, Linda, greeted him with a tremulous smile and a big hug as he stepped through the doorway. Smiling back at her, he gave her an additional squeeze before letting go. I’m glad you’re so happy to see me! What’s going on?

      You didn’t hear? she asked, nodding toward the living room.

      Michael, Stephen’s nine-year-old son, was seated in the center of the couch, his attention fixated on the living-room holovid set while his little sister Michelle Rose played in the crib on the far side of the room.

      Dad! Michael said, an excited smile crossing his face as he gestured to the holovid. Something’s going on in the city!

      Stephen turned to the screen, where it showed a live feed from downtown Avalon City. Crowds of people were swarming the streets, chanting and waving signs decrying the Combine occupation of the planet and reaffirming New Avalon as a Federated Suns world. Linda stepped up beside him, and he reached out to gently squeeze her hand, now understanding her concern. While the Combine occupation forces had ruled with a light hand to prevent just this sort of reaction from the citizenry, there was no way they would continue to allow it now.

      The footage switched back to the newsroom, where reporter Kasey Starr maintained a grave expression, but Stephen had no doubt of her excitement to be covering one of the biggest stories of her career.

      Ladies and gentlemen, that is downtown Avalon City, where crowds have clogged the thoroughfares. We are getting reports from many industrial parks and factories where workers have walked off the job, leaving vital industries shut down. While no violence has been seen yet, the DCMS forces are expected to respond to this peaceful protest. We go now to Abraham Tull at Achernar Heavy Industries for an update on the situation.

      The screen shifted to a middle-aged reporter Stephen vaguely recognized, but he seemed dressed casually for broadcast in a polo shirt and vest, almost as if he had come in from being on holiday.

      Thank you, Kasey. We are seeing a mass exodus from the Achernar Heavy Industries factory, where workers have apparently been deserting their posts all day. From what we are understand, they have been sneaking out over several hours while coworkers covered their shifts to keep their Combine overseers from noticing until it was too late to stop them. With the news of protests breaking out across Avalon City, however, the workers are now leaving en masse. Reports from other factories and vital industries claim the same thing is happening throughout the city.

      How are the Combine forces taking this, Abe?

      The initial reaction seems to be confusion, Tull replied, glancing over his shoulder where a line of DCMS soldiers blocked the exit, preventing what looked like a clamoring throng of workers inside from leaving. The camera zoomed in on the soldiers, showing threatening expressions behind brown-and-red riot helmets, with the lead officer yelling something inaudible.

      It appears they have sealed off the factory, but it is unknown how many workers managed to get out before the lockdown. It is estimated that up to a third of the entire staff has already left the building, including some of the vital employees needed for the heavy production lines. There’s no telling exactly how this will affect the production of some of the heavy military equipment in development here, or how quickly the lines will be back up and running.

      Starr nodded, her expression measured, but Stephen suspected she was secretly rejoicing. The free press had been greatly curtailed under the Toranaga regime, and only providing coverage favorable to the Combine allowed them to keep broadcasting. While Starr and the network were clearly walking a tightrope to get this breaking news to the citizenry without being shut down, Stephen wondered if there would be a new news team for the late-evening broadcast.

      Kasey continued speaking, glancing carefully between the notes in her hand and the teleprompter. Abe, is there any indication what spurred this on?

      "I have no definitive answer, but it is important to note that today is the birthday of First Prince Julian Davion. The First Prince has been vocal about his intent to return to New Avalon, and the people I’ve spoken to seem to believe this is the first action of a larger movement. While there’s been no official word from the gunji-no-kanrei or the palace about this so-called ‘Prince’s Protest,’ it seems this might—"

      The view shifted for a moment, and Kasey took the screen once more. We are cutting in with a breaking report from the Peace Gardens in Avalon City, which we now take you to live.

      The screen cut to a scene of thousands gathered in the former Davion Peace Gardens, renamed the Gardens of Silence in the Combine’s effort to eliminate any sign of New Avalon’s former ruling family. The gardens were anything but silent now, however, with Avalon City residents overflowing the streets. Stephen watched them swarm the park, the crowd far outnumbering the DCMS soldiers blocking off the streets that led farther into the city.

      For a spontaneous demonstration, some protestors seemed well prepared, holding up placards and holographic projections extolling the First Prince, with many of the messages informing the Combine occupiers that New Avalon was a House Davion world. The elderly stood beside the young in a showing of solidarity, and a clip of a woman who could have been Michael’s grandmother was handing out cookies and sharing a large water bottle.

      The crowd went to great lengths to be nonviolent, but even through the holovid, it was clear the scene was tense. The Combine soldiers had their weapons in hand, the barrels carefully not pointing at the protesters. Makeshift barricades in place around the park established a line the crowd was careful not to cross, but the protesters were pressed right up against them, arms and signs gesticulating over the barriers. However, Stephen noticed a gradual shift, as if some of the better-prepared protestors were moving to the forefront, putting some space between themselves and those swept up by the excitement of the moment. From the expressions on the two or three soldiers whose faces were visible, they had noticed it as well, and one twisted his jet-black tonfa in his gloved hands, clearly anticipating an escalation at any moment now.

      The screen split again, Starr’s expression now taut. "We are now getting an update from the palace. By order of Gunji-no-Kanrei Toranaga, an immediate curfew has been enacted for Avalon City. Any resident found in violation of the curfew is subject to arrest."

      The viewpoint in the Gardens shifted from the crowd to the streets behind the soldiers, where dark shapes moved forward, some overshadowing nearby buildings as they approached.

      No resident of New Avalon could mistake the looming shapes approaching, the setting sun silhouetting them in a bright-red haze.

      While Stephen was not up to date on Combine hardware, Michael was not. Jenner! he cried out, pointing to a group of ’Mechs striding forward menacingly. Firestarter!

      Stephen looked knowingly at his wife, and Linda said, It is time for dinner, young man. We can watch the holovid later.

      Michael’s protests were brief, and Stephen watched the screen a moment while reaching for the remote. Linda took his hand, and they watched the crowd momentarily rear back from the new threat but then surge forward to show their defiance the only way they knew how. The BattleMechs stopped, commanding the two thoroughfares that bordered the park, and everything settled into an uneasy stalemate.

      Stephen turned off the holovid, smiling at his wife while she picked up her daughter, little Michelle Rose, and they all headed to the kitchen. At the very least, they would have a nice dinner together.

      I should have plenty of time to find out what’s going on later, Stephen thought. I’ve got a funny feeling I’ll be working from home tomorrow…

      PART ONE

      CHAPTER

      ONE

      COMMAND BUNKER

      CLASSIFIED LOCATION

      ARGYLE

      FEDERATED SUNS

      3 APRIL 3151

      From his seat at the head of the large conference table, Julian Davion, First Prince of the Federated Suns, studied the large holographic display of his nation dominating the holotable, his fingers drumming a light tattoo on the tabletop. The doctors who had replaced his missing fingers with sophisticated prosthetics after the battle of New Syrtis told him that in time they might not even feel different than has flesh-and-blood digits. To be fair, the doctor had been right: there were times when he did not think of them—or his prosthetic leg—as any different than the parts he had been born with.

      This was not one of those times.

      Julian stopped his fingers with a conscious effort, and looked down at his hand, noting for not the first time the lines and wrinkles that made up the new topography of his skin. Looking into the mirror each morning, he had begun seeing the steady progress of gray in his hair and the added wrinkles he couldn’t in all honesty call laugh lines any longer. While he still worked daily to keep himself in the physical condition he desired for all his warriors, he was also very conscious of the effects that time, and the plight of his nation, had wrought upon him.

      The Federated Suns, one of the five Great Houses, had once been among the strongest nations in recorded history, one of two interstellar powers that had once united as the Federated Commonwealth before civil war had torn it apart nearly a century ago. Now beset by enemies, the Suns had shrunk, having lost dozens of worlds and its capital of New Avalon to the rapacious forces of House Kurita’s Draconis Combine, one of House Davion’s longstanding enemies.

      For a moment, Julian’s thoughts turned from the current plight of his nation, thinking back to how such a disaster could have occurred. While he hesitated to put blame in any particular place, he could not help focusing on his predecessor, Caleb Davion. The son of his mentor, the great Harrison Davion, Caleb had neither the wisdom nor the stability of his father, and his brief reign had only allowed the nation to be invaded by both the Draconis Combine and the Capellan Confederation, costing the Suns more ground in months than it had in centuries.

      The far door opened, dragging Julian’s thoughts back to the present as two of his advisors, having been cleared by security, entered the inner sanctum. It would suit far too many of his enemies if he were to suddenly find himself unguarded, and even in the secured precincts of his command center, the formalities of security measures were always observed.

      Thus was the reality of being the ruler of House Davion.

      The first visitor was a relative newcomer, tall, bearded, and dressed in a gray three-piece suit over a black dress shirt. With his salt-and-pepper hair and glasses, Dr. Sebastien Caeden could easily have been mistaken for the university professor he had once claimed to be, but Julian knew him to be one of the most powerful people in the nation. Caeden was the newly appointed Acting Minister of the Ministry of Intelligence, Information, and Operations, known as MIIO, and was thus one of Julian’s two principal spymasters, the other being Field Marshal Margot Zibler of the Department of Military Intelligence, or DMI. Seeing the First Prince, Caeden nodded respectfully, and then flashed a warm smile.

      Julian could not help but respond similarly, once again struck by the differences between Caeden and his predecessor. Gary Harding had been a consummate intelligence operative, reserved and taciturn, ever the silent advisor. No one would imagine Caeden—the Professor, as many knew him—was made from the same mold, but he had proven quite adept at stepping into Harding’s shoes. As a professor of political science at the New Avalon Institute of Science, and a remote member of MIIO’s Command Group, Caeden had been uniquely placed to receive intelligence vital to the liberation of New Avalon.

      Secret communications, smuggled in on what little independent JumpShip traffic was still allowed by the Combine, had assured elements of the populace that the First Prince had not forgotten them, and they had prepared for the day when there might be an opportunity to let the First Prince know he could strike.

      With New Avalon MIIO contingent working to gather intelligence about the Combine’s current military strength and dispositions, Caeden had always planned to bring this data to the First Prince’s mobile command center on Argyle when the time was right.

      Unfortunately, the plan had only partially succeeded. The Draconis Combine’s Internal Security Force had uncovered MIIO’s underground network and moved swiftly to take down as much of it as they could. The cell system MIIO had been using to compartmentalize the intel allowed Caeden to escape the Combine dragnet with the hard-earned data, but he had not heard from his contacts as he escaped the planet in the hold of an independent DropShip. With the death of Gary Harding a year ago, MIIO found itself in need of a new minister as they prepared for the liberation of New Avalon, and Caeden had been the logical choice.

      At Julian’s side, a counterpoint in all things, was Colonel Siobhan Sortek, his personal aide and counselor. Tall and lithe, she had dark hair and piercing green eyes that took in everything at once. With the workload he provided for her, Julian never knew how she found the time to sleep and stay in fighting trim, but he simply chalked it up to the abilities she had proven time and time again…or witchcraft, depending on his mood.

      Like her grandfather, Ardan Sortek, who had served First Prince Hanse Davion, Siobhan acted as Julian’s right hand in day-to-day operations, her keen mind keeping him abreast of any situations that needed his immediate attention. While acting as a minister without portfolio in the unique structure the Federated Suns government had maintained in exile since losing New Avalon, Siobhan was one of few Julian held in higher esteem, and despite her comparatively minor rank, she projected the authority necessary to get things done, knowing she had the First Prince’s complete support.

      Julian’s thoughts turned dark for a moment as he reflected on Ardan Sortek, the former Prince’s Champion. Ardan had been the best friend of the famous Hanse Davion, and had acted as his hand in all things, especially before Hanse’s wedding to Melissa Steiner of the Lyran Commonwealth and the birth of their children. At that time, the Prince’s Champion was the undisputed voice and hand of the First Prince, and no one would dream of questioning the title or its holder. When he eventually fell in the closing moments of the Federated Commonwealth Civil War, it had been in defense of Hanse’s son, First Prince Victor Steiner-Davion. If only all such Champions had been so well chosen, Julian mused.

      As if the thought made him appear, the doors opened again, and his own Prince’s Champion, Erik Sandoval-Groell, strode in, looking almost drab in comparison to Caeden’s monochrome academic wear and Sortek’s impeccably maintained Class A uniform. Having clearly come straight from the field, the tall, grim-faced warrior still wore a blue set of fatigues, and an errant strand of greying brown hair had slipped down over his forehead.

      Julian’s Champion had been chosen by Caleb during his short-lived reign. If he’d had his say, Siobhan would have filled the position, but the Privy Council had let him know they felt Erik Sandoval would be eminently suited for the job.

      Erik, a member of the distaff line of the Robinson Sandovals, had been sent to the Republic of the Sphere following Gray Monday to bring worlds of the troubled Republic back to the House Davion fold. When the Republic finally fractured, Erik had returned to the Federated Suns, gaining the favor of Prince Caleb and earning the position of Champion. After Caleb’s death, Erik had served as regent until Julian, who had been away from the Federated Suns, could return to his nation and claim the throne.

      While the First Prince could appoint whomever he liked to the position, Julian knew it was more politic to acquiesce to the Council’s recommendation, choosing unity while they planned their historic attempt to retake the capital. For some members of Julian’s military council, however, the day of Erik’s replacement couldn’t come soon enough.

      The Prince’s Champion had been in the employ of Duke Aaron Sandoval, a cousin and noted schemer, long before Caleb had elevated him. While there was no love lost for the mad Prince at the end, Julian’s inner circle remembered that Erik had only switched sides after Caleb’s downfall seemed certain. The price of his loyalty had been a seat at the table, and regardless of his somewhat questionable loyalties, he was still one of the finest commanders in the AFFS. As Prince’s Champion, he stood at Julian’s side and did his bidding.

      And while he respected Erik’s keen sense for military tactics and strategy, however, Julian and his Champion could not stop arguing. For months they had been working together on a plan to liberate New Avalon, code-named Operation Dawn, but the two had diametrically opposed theories on how to move their plans forward. While both were eager to regain control of New Avalon, Julian was focused on building an overwhelming force to take the planet in one fell swoop, while Erik chafed every day the Combine held the planet. Ever since Gunji-no-Kanrei Toranaga had first taken the planet, Erik had been ready to charge right in, eager to drive off the Combine’s warriors and raise the sword-and-sunburst flag of the Federated Suns on every flagpole again.

      Things had gotten so tense between them that Erik had decided to inspect the troops stationed on Argyle. His absence allowed Julian a moment of calm, which he realized he had desperately needed. Unfortunately, Caeden claimed newly arrived information might have an effect on Operation Dawn’s planning, which required recalling the Prince’s Champion to the command center.

      Erik stiffened to attention when he saw Julian, but the First Prince waved off the formality and gestured for everyone to sit. Thank you all for coming so quickly, he began. I apologize for the sudden summons, but Sebastien told me we have new intelligence coming from the invasion corridor, and I wanted us all to hear it at once.

      The only other occupant of the room, a young leftenant named Blakely, stepped up to Caeden, who gave him a small data drive the young officer plugged into his console. In an instant, a half-dozen planets on the map lit up.

      My Prince, I have been correlating our extant data with some new intel received from Field Marshal Zibler, and we have found some interesting data points—

      "Where is the field marshal? Erik interrupted, turning to Caeden. Shouldn’t we be waiting for her?"

      If Caeden was bothered by the statement, he didn’t show it. Zibler is working with the analysis division to get secondary confirmation. While I would have preferred her to present the data with me, its time-sensitive nature prompted us to move quickly.

      Julian nodded, gesturing for Caeden to continue. What have you found?

      We believe we are currently seeing a major redeployment of the DCMS forces in the Combine’s invasion corridor.

      Erik’s eyes narrowed. A prelude to a new attack?

      Not likely, Caeden replied carefully as he gestured to the display. We currently have reliable data that on two systems, Plymouth and Euclid, the garrisons are preparing for a partial redeployment accounting for nearly sixty percent of their combat capability. However, none of the other planets in the region, such as Gambier or Willowick, show any similar signs of troop movements.

      Julian leaned forward, watching the display carefully. Are you saying they’re pulling out?

      Caeden shrugged slightly as an expression of gentle disagreement. I do not believe they are pulling out, my Prince, so much as slimming down their liabilities.

      He nodded to Blakely, and the young officer zoomed in on the invasion corridor known as the Dragon’s Tongue, placing New Avalon on the lower left corner of the holoprojection. Upon capturing New Avalon, Caeden said, the Combine redeployed their forces to a handful of well-defended worlds: New Avalon, Coloma, Paulding, Willowick…

      Some of the systems they used as stepping-stones to New Avalon, Julian replied, seeing the pattern instantly. It makes sense for them to hold those worlds for their supply lines.

      Indeed. However, they did not expand their supply lines to neighboring worlds, no diversification whatsoever. They focused on just a small handful.

      A trap? Siobhan asked, glancing over at Caeden. Are they trying to make them tempting targets, so when we try to strike them, they can counterstrike quickly?

      That’s what we thought, Caeden responded. It would be an excellent plan, especially since the Prince’s Champion has recommended just such a set of strikes to cut Toranaga’s supply line to New Avalon.

      Erik nodded. By putting their eggs into a small number of baskets, and widely displaced ones at that, the seizure of any one of those worlds might cut off the supply chain to New Avalon, leaving it vulnerable.

      Yes, Caeden said. "Both Field Marshal Zibler and I agree that striking any of the surrounding planets before moving on New Avalon would be a sound strategic decision, but that would leave our forces exposed if it were a Combine trap. As such, we recommended holding off until we could marshal enough forces to counter such a threat. When we first received this new data, we thought it was more of the same…but now we’re wondering if we may be seeing internal Combine politics at play.

      Some of our analysts decided to look deeper into the occupation zone to see if there were any similar signs of redeployment, and we found them on Mansfield. There, however, we saw more common signs of troop rotation, with elements from two new green units being moved down the Tongue, while elements of the Eighth Sword of Light were readying for redeployment.

      Erik chose that moment to speak up, having been uncharacteristically quiet through the meeting so far. Do we know anything about these new units?

      No. In fact, they are brand-new units, with new commanders from the Pesht Military District.

      Siobhan turned to Julian with a smile of thinly veiled amusement. "Two green units from Pesht, replacing a veteran unit from New Samarkand? I’m sure the gunji-no-kanrei is enjoying that!"

      A changing of the guard, Julian replied, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. It might just be that Toranaga has fallen out of favor with the Coordinator.

      Perhaps, Caeden said. However, it might simply be Yori Kurita hedging her bets. Toranaga exceeded his mandate when he struck at New Avalon, and while it has raised his stock considerably in the Combine, his failure to bring the Federated Suns completely to heel as he had promised made the citizenry’s interest wane. Even more importantly, he is far from his traditional base of power, and he dare not leave New Avalon with his supply lines stretched so thin. He glanced around the table. "The other Warlords can’t openly act against him at the moment, due to his popularity and position as Kanrei, but some of our data shows they are prepared to act on any major changes that should occur."

      Julian nodded, understanding the Machiavellian maneuvering all too well. Seb, best guess: Do we think the Coordinator might be setting up Toranaga to take the fall?

      "I think it is better to say she is preparing for

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