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Breaking the Veil (Commissioned NuBSG/BT crossover)

Jihad, the prequel.

Most of First Circut suddenly dropping dead is bound to raise some eyebrows within Comstar and IS intelligence organisations. And while factions within Comstar will bow to the rule of ROM, they will absolutely seethe at this usurpation and will seek to undermine Simms, including many who otherwise support his views. And while population at large views Comstar as benevolent organisation, intelligence services are not as trusting, though not yet aware of full extent of Comstar duplicity.
 
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This is a fun crossover. I wonder how the cylons react to a KF jump.
 
Chapter 18 New
Chapter 18

Date: December 5, 2998

Location: New Vandenburg zenith point, Taurian Concordat

"Remember people," Castor McCarron glanced around at the assembled officers of the unit. "We're not here acting like we're being paid for by the Confederation. Keep your comms chatter clear of any indication we are. The techs have already scrubbed any identifying marks from our arms and armor. As far as the Taurians are concerned, we are working for the Federated Suns."

"Objectives are to cause as much damage to the factory complexes here on New Vandenburg as possible. The Chancellor wants the Taurians focused on the Federated Suns and thinking that they did this," Archibald took over the briefing room for his brother. "I know we're rehashing things and that you all have your operational plans. But we want to make sure we're all on the same page."

The MAC had brought two of their five regiments to accomplish this task, and Castor was hopeful that the success would mean the Chancellor was willing to throw more money and funding their way.

"As it is, we're going to have fifteen days in the void before we reach the planet. Once we make landfall, we'll split up according to battalions and start hammering the Taurians where they're weak. Not that it'll be hard, they only have the Taurian Lancers as mainline defenders," Castor smiled cruelly. "The Lancers are green, they're not battle hardened or ready to face anything like what we're bringing to bear. We'll crush them, kill whoever VMI hired to guard their factories, loot, and then burn everything to the ground. Are there any questions that we didn't answer in previous briefings?"

The few people in the room with him shook their heads and the people listening in via comms replied in the negative.

"Alright then," Castor clapped his hands together. "We've got a job to do, and remember. Loot, then burn. Not the other way around."





Date: December 21, 2998

Location: New Vandenburg

They'd made landfall nearly uncontested. The Taurian's Tigress small craft were no match for Castor's aerospace assets. The Lancers had mobilized fairly quickly for a new unit, but they didn't have any real metal to them. Their 'mech battalions did have a decent amount of tanks in to assist, but the Taurians didn't have control of the air. So, the artillery and tanks they'd brought to bear shouldn't be much of a threat. Not in an open conflict like this.

Reaching the range of his autocannon and missiles, he grouped them together and hammered a Manticore that had just missed him with its PPC. The heavy tank didn't stop shooting, but it did stop moving as one of its treads seemed to fall off after one of his LRMs had detonated against it.

"Someone hit that tank for me," Castor ordered, turning his attention to the Archer he was overlooking the battlefield via a nearby hill. "I'll take the CO."

Castor knew he probably shouldn't be leading from the front like this. But there was something about taking your 'mech and forging a path through the inhospitable battlefields that felt like nothing else. A high that existed when you realized that you were in sole control of your own destiny, and nothing could stand in your way. Well, nothing except another Mechwarrior.

The enemy Mechwarrior wasn't bad. In fact, they were fairly good at getting a target lock and hitting him with at least a few missiles out of every volley. Problem was that being good at gunnery wasn't the same thing as being a good 'mechwarrior. Too bad this Taurian would never get to learn and come face Castor again.

An autocannon shell to the cockpit cracked the protective layer around the Archer's mechwarrior. The laser that followed caused the 'mech to drop as if it were a puppet that had just had the strings cut.

"2nd Bat, status report," Castor ordered as he pushed his battalion further into the forested hills.

"Wew're moving on the factory," Archie reported. "Company mercs are a tougher fight than the Lancers you're fighting are. I'm shifting up third company to break through this line so we can force them back."

"Copy that," Castor replied, knowing that his brother had everything handled. "I'll keep the militia and Lancers off your back."

Turning the comms channel back to the battalion he was leading, he looked for his next victim. A Scimitar danced across his view, and he narrowly missed with his fire, the hovercraft's autocannon pocketing against his armor as it sped away to avoid his Zeus's firepower.

"Speeder fucker, aren't ya," Castor chuckled as he elected to ignore the hovercraft in favor of hitting a Demolisher that was attempting to sneak up on him. "You aren't, though."

"This is Colonel James Norman of the Taurian Concordat, call off your dogs, we'll let you have the factories, just stop hitting civilians!"

Civilians? Castor raised an eyebrow inside of his 'mech. None of his people were even near the cities yet. What was Norman talking about?

The CO of MAC shrugged and just muted that channel. If one of his battalions decided to do some extracurricular activities to sell the Federated Suns unit then he didn't really care all that much. It wasn't like he was ever going to get hired by the Concordat. They couldn't afford him anyway.

"Castor, something's wrong here," Archie had bounced an encrypted channel off the satellite they'd left in orbit. "Defenders are fighting harder than ever, and I've seen a lot more ASF assets than we saw on the way in."

"Just stay the course," Castor ordered. "We'll have this done by the end of the week and can celebrate Christmas with the salvage!"






Buchannon did not like his orders, but he had them in hand, and was going to follow them to the letter. He'd been embedded into the Taurian Areospace assets shortly after the SLS Tripitz affair, and had slowly worked his way up to Squadron commander. Now, ROM had finally reached out and given him his instructions.

"Listen up!" He looked out over the squadron of nuggets. All of the veterans had been reassigned to the Warship program within the last few years. "The enemy unit has disregarded any rules of war and is going after civilian targets as a priority. With that in mind, we've been given authorization to draw from the stockpiles and put some warheads on foreheads. Jinx, Tag, you two have the best scores, you'll be carrying two apiece along with the two I've got on my bird. Remember, we want airburst, not collision with the ground. Radiation fades quicker that way. Now, mount up. We don't have a lot of time."

The way he'd instructed them over the last few months had left them with no reason to question his instructions as he peeled off to the side and spoke with some of the techs. They were a bit more questioning, but a flash of the authorization that had been forged by ROM quickly put to rest any of their hesitation. Five minutes later, six nukes had been attached to the hardpoints on three of their fighters.

"Watch out, nugs," Buchannon said as he moved his bird further up into the atmosphere to avoid any enemy fire. "Looks like they brought a lot of Triple A."

"Enemy craft moving on an intercept course," Jinx reported. "Heading three four five."

"I see them," Buchannon replied. "Maintain heading, Frag, Bob, you two peel off and head them off while we position for attack runs."

The enemy squadron was probably more experienced than the nuggets he'd just wasted against them. But Buchannon didn't have to care about whether he spent or wasted lives anymore.

"ETA to targets is two mikes," Tag said. "Sir, do we have authorization to drop the nukes?"

"Authorization's granted," Buchannon replied. "Just do your job and drop them on target."

Two minutes later, they were over the dropships and his nuggets dropped their payload before veering off and heading to intercept the enemy fighters that were still coming after them.

Buchannon's sensors chirped in alarm as the radiation spiked, but he turned them off as he armed his pair of nukes and waited.

One Heartbeat, two, three, in the distance, a portion of the city was engulfed in a mushroom cloud, the cobalt enhanced warhead would be scattering material all over the area. Now all that was left was to finish the job.

Plotting the direction, he set the nukes on a timer and edged his fighter into a nosedive. If he was right, the impact would kill him, if he was wrong, the nukes would. Either way, he would have accomplished Blake's will.







Date: December 22, 2998

Location: Sian, Capellan Confederation

"This," Maximilian gestured towards the image of mushroom clouds that adorned the screens behind him. "Is on every Comstar News Network station in the Inner Sphere. We know it wasn't the Taurians that nuked themselves this time. So, who dropped nukes on the Concordat? And why?"

"Chancellor," Chandra Ling began. "I burned some of our Maskirovka assets getting embedded intel out of TMI and into our hands as fast as possible. They think that either we did it, or that the Federated Suns did it. There were forged orders to utilize them against the MAC. Unfortunately, that isn't the part that concerns us. TMI is easily penetrated, though they have improved in OPSEC as no one was aware of the TCS Vandenburg until she appeared. That said, the Taurians are angry, and they're blaming both the Federated Suns and the Confederation."

"What of the McCarron's armored cavalry?" Max asked.

"The two regiments were unable to make it offworld," Chandra reported. "Their dropships were one of the things hit by nuclear weapons. The last reports we heard had them holding up in a seized town awaiting relief or negotiations with the Taurians. The McCarron brothers are brutal, but we do not believe they were privy to the weapons going off. If they are captured or surrender, it is likely they will give up the deniable operation through interrogation."

"Ensure that should they be captured, that they will not be able to do anything of that nature," Max ordered. "Burn what assets you must. Now, the Taurians cannot be swayed to push towards the Federated Suns as a primary target?"

"No," Chandra shook her head. "The civilian populace is clammoring for war against the Inner Sphere as a whole. As they do not have a solid grip on said populace, it is unlikely they will be able to ignore such things. Estimates are that by the end of the year, they will move into a full war setting, and by the end of five years, they will be ready to fight us or the Federated Suns to a standstill."






Date: December 26, 2998

Location: New Avalon, Federated Suns

"Please tell me that we are not responsible for this," First Prince Andrew Davion coughed into a handkerchief and frowned as he saw a few flecks of blood.

"I don't know," the head of DMI replied with a small shake of his head. "Neither I nor MIIO planned for any assets to terrorize the Concordat. While we have done things in the past to force them to act in one way or another, we don't even have nuclear weapons on standby for a strike such as this. TMI is not responsible for a false flag either. Even with their Operational Security improvements for certain projects, they're still lacking in many ways. We're still waiting on reports from certain embedded agents, but we believe that this was done by a fourth party. Someone not Capellan, Taurian, or one of us. The problem is, even though TMI, MASK, and we know that none of us had anything to do with it. Civilians aren't going to believe that. The Taurians are going to have to move to a war footing."

"Until we find this other party, we're going to have to shift more forces to the Concordat border," Andrew sighed. "With us having to shift said forces, the Combine may move to take advantage of us. So, I'll have Sandoval ready for any reprisals, and we'll work on propping up what aerospace industry we may have been lacking in. If we missed the Vandenburg, and everyone else did, too. What else might the Taurians be hiding behind a shield of 'incompetence'?

"We don't know," the MIIO head admitted.

"And that's what concerns me," Andrew said. "Let's start preparations for having to fight a Concordat on equal footing with the Capellans. I want plans in place on my desk by the New Year. Until then, gentlemen. Enjoy what's left of the holiday. If you can, anyway...."
 
Send the fleet to Sian and start orbital bombardment of military sites(not necessarily with nukes), that should be a sufficient amount of finding out.
Shame Comstar got away with this crap, hope the reveal of the warships would freak them out hard enough to start making mistakes.
 
ROM already knows about warships, this is their ploy to trick Taurians into unleashing these warships onto Inner Sphere, as part of Comstar plan knock humanity into stone age.
 
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Harsh. The Mac are never leaving there alive
 
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Chapter 19 New
Chapter 19

Date: January 2, 2999

Location: Taurus, Taurian Concordat

"Madame Protector, there are a lot of people who want to know what the response from the government will be regarding the recent unprovoked attacks on New Vandenburg," A pretty blonde sat across from the Protector in the news room. "The discharge of nuclear weapons has everyone justifiably concerned. Who was responsible, and will we be trying to hold them to account for such a catastrophe?"

Zarantha took a moment to steel herself and then replied."Julia, as you and all of our citizenry knows, I have tried to prevent the Concordat from launching into a war during the entirety of my term of service. I had intended to continue my campaigns of supporting the Far Lookers and other peacable organizations throughout the rest of my life. However, such attacks on our sovereign soil are unacceptable. We all remember the War of Terran Aggression, and the results of that. The worlds that now lie fallow and abandoned since we were forced into the fold of the Star League. As such, we are stopping any and all production of military assets for sale to foreign nations and mercenaries."

The protector paused, then continued. "We are not prepared to wage war at this moment. However, we will recover, and we will retaliate. As we speak, crews try to remove civilians and survivors from the rubble, the invaders trapped on New Vandenburg are under seige, and recalls to military service are being instituted across our nation. We are rebuilding the IInd, IVth, and VIth Corps," Zarantha's eyes took a savage turn as she looked at the camera. "We don't know who is responsible for this as of yet. But when we find you, we will have our vengeance."

"I see," Julia shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "There are some other questions the network and polls asked for. Do you have time to answer them?"

"I do," Zarantha nodded. "Ask away."

"The primary question that seems to dominate after this recent attack is what is to be done with the TCS Vandenburg?" Julia asked. "We were led to believe by your administration that she was nonfunctional."

"That is a bit of an exaggeration," Zarantha admitted. "Her weapons were not hard to repair, as they use much of what currently secures Taurus. However, it has been hundreds of years since the Concordat manufactured jumpships and Warships. That's something we aim to change, but that is years from being realized. For now, suffice it to say that we have something in store for any future attacks. For now, we need to rebuild and prepare for war. The TDF was stretched thin before this. Now? We have to shift to a complete war footing. This will not be an easy future. It has been generations since we truly attempted War. Isolation has long been our security as well as the knowledge that if either the Capellan Confederation or the Federated Suns struck at us, that we would be a suicide pill," Zaranthas sighed before there seemed to be a shift in her posture, spirit, and tone. "Unfortunately, that seems to no longer be the case. We have stagnated, and are not capable of fending off even a small group of elite mercenaries. A nation that cannot defend itself is a nation that will soon find itself manipulated and consumed by its neighbors. We are Taurians, once the greatest, most prosperous, and freeest nation in the Inner Sphere and Periphery. It took the combined efforts of all the nations to bring us to heel. We remember, and we long for those days again. But such cannot come if we allow ourselves to continue digging the grave that was prepared for us," The woman faced the camera, and all across Taurus, and later the rest of the Concordat found themselves caught in her fierce gaze. "All Taurians listen to me. Come Hell, or High waters, the Tide is turning, tragedy will lead to victory, and we will become resurgent again. It's a shame that it took disaster to wake us up. But now we are indeed awake, and now is the time to seize the opportunity."





"You weren't supposed to say any of that," one of Zarantha's advisors sighed. "We had a script, and now it's just gone. How are we supposed to maintain control of the populace now?"

"Control of the populace?" Zarantha glared. "My people. Your fucking fellow citizens and neighbors were struck and killed by an enemy nation. They are angry, and I am fucking furious. I have spent my entire life trying to do things the peaceful way. Keeping us as far away from the politics and endless violence of the Inner Sphere as possible. Now, that's not enough," the Protector slammed her hands on the nearby table. "The Concordat's marching to war, Andreas. If you've not the stomach for it, the door's that way," She jerked her thumb behind her. "So, either find your balls and start giving good advice again, or get the hell out of here," She looked around the table as the man at least was willing to leave the room. "Anyone else want to walk out, now?"

The rest of them shook their heads.

"Good," Zarantha stated. "I need the heads of all the major corporations, the Marshals, and our liaison from the Kobolians. I'm not expecting them to join us in a war here. But I need to know what we can purchase and what deals we can work out. We're going to need more ships. I want to know exactly what it's going to cost us."

"How do you want us divided, ma'am?" Brittany Marquis asked.

"Brittany, you and Reginald are in charge of the Corps rebuilding. Work out deals with our local manufacturers, any mercs that trace their origins back to the Concordat, etc. Rebuilding the military within a year is going to be a difficult task, and we're going to have a lot of green troops in the mix. If we can supplement with veteran mercs, we may be able to stem some of that. Jason, Brian, you two are going to be reaching out to the Outworlds Alliance and the Kobolians. I'm willing to pay good money for people who can train our pilots," Zarantha paused and closed her eyes for a second. "Peter, I want TMI purged. We've got leaks and breakages somewhere. I don't care if you have to gu tthe thing and start over from scratch, we're not going to allow it anymore. Bill, I need hard lines on our treasury. We're going to a war footing, and that means economic hardships are going to be coming. We need to see what those impacts are going to be as well as how to ease them where possible. Also, smaller companies like CTT, tell them the Concordat will foot the bill to bring the Quasit up to a full battlemech if they can get the production lines up to spec. Also, tell VMI that we're handing out the plans to the Talos again. It's not the best design for attack, but it'll be perfectly servicable in defense where the supply lines aren't stretched. Now, for the rest of you, find a place where you can help and plug yourself in. I'm not going to delegate everything, and you were all chosen because you can think independently. So, let's get to work, people!"







Date: March 3, 2999

Location: Alamo, Shared world

"There a reason you're moving everything to double shifts?" Doctor Russell asked Aramis.

"The Concordat was attacked," the Count sighed. "We just received word that the Protector has instructed the entirety of the industrial complex to shift to a war footing. Given we're close to getting the old factories here fully online, I'm pushing them a bit."

"While we can't go to war and help you out with military forces without authorization from our government," Russell shifted. "There are other ways we can offer assistance on a jointly administered colony like this one. So, what can we do to help?"

"Keep working on food growth," Aramis replied. "I'll probably also see if you can spin up some small-arms and body armor manufacturing. It's the sort of thing that seems small but adds up in a big way once you start shipping stuff. Also, it's a great opportunity for any of your people that are looking into getting into this sort of business. There's going to be a lot of money flowing through any world with the slightest amount of industry for the foreseeable future. I imagine both your and my people will try to capitalize on that."

"Indeed," Dr. Russell agreed. "I'll point some friends your way in the future for anything like that. Now, as I'm a student of history and served in the military, is there anything in the way of details that you can tell me?"

"I'm a bit more informed than the average individual here," Aramis sighed again. "So, I'll go through what I know. To start with, it seemed like a normal raid from mercs hired by one of the Inner Sphere nations," the Count sipped at his water. "Not common, but it happens more frequently than people think. Usually, there's a few small skirmishes. The Mercs claim to have satisfied their contracts, leave, and everyone's better off. This time, things went really wrong. One of our squadron leaders forged authorization to launch nukes at the merc dropships. Not the end of the world, but not something we like to use these days. If that was the end of it, we'd slap that guy on the wrist and cashier him out of the military. Unfortunately, that wasn't the end of it. While they were engaging the mercs, someone detonated a dirty bomb inside the densest population areas of the nearest city. Based on the radiological signatures we've recovered, it wasn't one of the ones that we build or use. But the Capellans and Davions use nukes that are similar to each others that it could have been either of them. To make matters worse, that squadron commander, his squadron managed to take out the dropships, but our sensor logs have him turning around to face the city instead of engaging, then firing his missiles into the other parts of the city."

"So, he went crazy?" Russell asked.

"We don't know," Aramis responded. "At this stage, we're still going through everything and trying to piece together exactly what happened. But regardless of what the actual truth is, our people are angry. If we don't find out who is responsible, they're going to decide for us, and then we'll be at war with that nation regardless of whether they were responsible or not."

"It certainly wouldn't be the first time that such a thing has happened," Russell pointed out. "We've had such things in our history as well. It's not isolated to you specifically."

"I'm well aware that history is fraught with such matters" Aramis acknowledged. "I was hoping that times would be different in my lifetime. Things were going well, we were eradicating the pirate menace with assistance from your government, we had begun rebuilding lost colonies. All that is going to be thrown away in the pursuit of another war. As if there were not enough of that going on in the galaxy. Still, I am a patriot, and I will do my part to ensure that we do not fail."

"May you be the voice of reason in the dark of the night," Russell raised his own glass of water. "Now, enough about the worries of the future. Let's go get a drink and see what mischief can be made before more serious matters find us!'







Date: April 3, 2999

Location: Taurian Concordat Naval Testing grounds

"Keep running those drills!" Space Master Aurelius ordered, his heavily refit Artemis-Class battlestar, the TCS-Rattlesnake, was still undergoing shakedown cruises, and his people needed training before they moved to join the rest of the fleet. "Remember, good, better, best."

Hanging above the door of each main section of the ship lay a poem. "Good better best, never let it rest, until your good is better, and your better, best." It was the words that both Space master Aurelius and the rest of the crew lived by. Damage control, simulated and real, weapons accuracy, the launching of their fighters and Tigress small craft, they were going to be the best. So, they drilled and worked on their craft. A quiet rage filling every crew members actions as they prepared for the war that was to come. The Rattlesnake, was the largest and most heavily armed ship in the new navy. When it came time to fight, they were going to prove the reason why their battleflag harkened to something from ancient Terra, the yellow flag with the snake becoming the center for their fight.

They had been tread on. Now it was time to strike.

Author's Note: We've got one more chapter and I'll have exhausted the backlog for this fic's commissioned words.
 
Chapter 20 New
Chapter 20

Date: March 16, 2999

Location: Taurus, Taurian Concordat

"Alright, people, listen up!" McCarthy began, looking around the meeting room with most of his senior staff officers and the higher NCOs. "I have bad news and I have good news. What do you want to hear first?"

"The bad news, Colonel," Brigadier Jackson answered for the Subalterns that were in charge of the two battalions. Give us the bad news first."

"You're not going to be Concordat Jaegers anymore," McCarthy began. "Unfortunately, the Protector and HIGHCOM have issued the strategic plan for us to follow. With that in mind, Second and Third Battalions are being transferred to the II Corps to reform the Hyades Guards and Cavalry. Jackson, you're being promoted to Colonel and are going along with Second Bat to reform the Hyades Guards. Anderson, congratulations, you've been promoted to Colonel and are going to be the CO of the Hyades Cavalry. It's been a pleasure working with the two of you, and I wish you luck in everything going forward," McCarthy saluted the two men who were going to share a rank with him.

"Subaltern Vickers, step forward," The infantryman looked surprised but did so. "You've been promoted to Brigadier, may you bring the same brevity, experience, and dedication as the new Executive Officer that you did as the infantry CO."

McCarthy gave everyone a second to clap and congratulate the people on the good news before continuing.

"Now, with the orders being given. The Concordat Jaegers face a bit of a dilemma. The Protector has ordered that we also expand and restructure into something similar to one of the Davion Regimental Combat teams. With that in mind, I'm splitting up First Battalion by the Company to form the core of the new second and third battalions as we go forward. The TDF has had a bunch of people decide to either reenlist, or to enlist and join up with the events of New Vandenburg. So, we have enough new recruits and funding that I expect us to be mostly equipped and trained up by the end of the year," McCarthy sighed. "I won't sugarcoat it, we'll be very green, but we'll be trained and ready for supporting and holding ground for any naval elements that push forward."

The colonel changed the slide behind him to the blank flag of the Concordat instead of the promotions listed previously.

"Now, regarding plans for retaliation or offensive action, I don't have any information at this time. However, if the public anger holds, then we know that we are going to strike at someone. The only questions left for HIGHCOM are where and who. Now, are there any questions from the rest of you?"

"Have we spoken to the Kobolians regarding this?" Now-Colonel Jackson asked. "I know they're providing us with Warships."

"They've requested to be left out of any conflict regarding the rest of the Inner Sphere for now," McCarthy replied. "Given how we would have liked to be left out of the Inne Sphere's struggles after the Age of War, I completely understand their position. Do I believe that it'll hold? No," he shook his head. "Eventually, they're going to get pushed to either support us fully, or stop supporting us. But for now, they're going to quietly be providing us with aid. Ships, ammo, weapons, they'll provide us with everything we can pay for. Now, their small arms do need work, but their factories can be retooled to produce the things that we need. It's just going to take time."

"What about logistics?" Anderson raised an important question. "I know we've got funding, but we'll still need to source spare parts for all of our 'mechs, ASF, etc. Also, how do the new Warships tie into our logistical chains? Are they going to make things easier or more difficult due to needing specialty parts?"

"Those are things that HIGHCOM has left to us to figure out as we form our new commands," McCarthy chuckled. "The II Corps is being given a free rein with funding as long as it's not mismanaged. We all have a year to beg, borrow, scrape, or 'acquire' everything we need to conduct warfare on the level that the rest of the Houses do. I know that since the War of Terran Aggression we've regressed. Well, now's the chance to swing the other direction. Prove that we still have what it takes to not only fight on the level that we used to, but that we can keep up and even win against foes that are 'superior' to us."

McCarthy paused and took a deep breath before continuing.

"Despite what the Protector and our brass like to pretend, the only reason we weren't conquered isn't anything to do with our military might. It's that it'd just take up more resources than the Capellans or Fedrats can afford right now. We've been just enough trouble that attacking us would give their more prominent enemies an advantage. But weak enough to not be a threat. That's not the case anymore. We have Warships, even if this attack didn't move us into a war footing, as soon as the bigger states discovered we'd begun retaking the void we'd have been made the primary focus of a campaign. I know I've said a lot today," the colonel swallowed. "But it's important for each of you to understand. We are responsible for shaping the culture of the military for the foreseeable future; and beyond that, the future of the nation. Each of your rebuilt units are going to be blank slates, with no traditions, no legacy beyond that which existed hundreds of years ago. It's up to you to decide what the future and legacy of the nation will be…"

Author's note: A smaller chapter as I get back into the swing of things. Wife is okay, and we're moved into a new house. Just get to spend the week unpacking now.
 
Chapter 21 New
Chapter 21

Date: May 9, 2999

Location: Atlanta, Terra

"Sir, step away from the windows," one of Allen's last two remaining guards dragged the man further back into the safehouse. "We don't know who is still loyal to you, or if ROM has taken over all of the HPGs by now. Either way, we're going to be dealing with surveilance that could pick you up and alert them to our presence."

"I just wanted to see what the city looked like," Allen protested. "We've been in here for months now. Surely they aren't looking for us!"

"Primus, I'm going to need you to listen very closely to me," one of the more veteran Comguards stood in front of the old man. "You are currently the most important man on Terra. If Simms managed a coup of this level and you're the only one that made it out, you're also the only one that can prevent whatever atrocity the Precentor ROM has planned."

"If Simms is compromised, then how can we trust anyone?" Allen asked.

"We can't trust anyone," the Comguard shrugged. "At best, you being alive leads to a Civil War between Comstar. At worst, Simms retains control while pinning this on all of the Successor States. Leading to us losing our neutrality and the rest of the Inner Sphere invading. Right now, I need you to focus on staying alive and helping us figure out how to get you access to the HPG system again. I'd rather us dissolve into an internal conflict than hand the keys of our technology to the rest of the Inner Sphere."

"We may not have a choice," Allen sighed. "We may need to appeal to one of the Successor States for aid, which will then give them a hold on us."

"Let's try other options first," the Comguard said. "I'd rather that be the last option instead of one of the first. Now, if we're going to do anything, then we need a plan. We can't be going into this half-assed, or we'll end up dead."

"We should start with any potential entrances or backdoors into the systems at Hilton Head," the second guard took a seat. "Then, we'll prerecord a message to spread through the HPG network. You're not going anywhere near any of the main systems."

"And what will I be doing in all of this?" Allen leaned back in his chair.

"You and Kyle are going to be heading out of the system," The older guard stated firmly. "I'm going to be infiltrating and planting the message, you're going to be deciding whether it's worth it to break the Holy Shroud or not."

"There are a few ways to get back into Hilton Head that are not documented for the standard acolytes and adepts," Allen began. "However, ROM will know most of them and will be monitoring them for any entry or activity."

"That part doesn't matter as much as you think," The veteran shrugged. "I just need to know where they are and how to get there. Kyle," he turned to the other guard. "Get a camera and book tickets offworld to Titan."

"You got it," Kyle nodded, picking up a coat and heading out the door.

"Now, I trust Kyle, but you can't tell people what you don't know," the veteran knelt down. "So, how do I get into the most fortified area on Terra without setting off the alarms?"





In the end, it wasn't any of the routes the Primus gave him that Isaiah ended up taking. Instead, he'd hit another safehouse and used some of the classified materials there to give himself a temporary new face and ID. It wouldn't do more than get him into the gates. But he didn't need more than that. The access codes the Primus had given him wouldn't have been changed yet.

So, he simply walked in through the gates like any other acolyte or adept. They'd moved away from the high-alert status they'd been in when ROM first began assassinating the First Circuit. Now, it seemed as if it were business as usual. ROM were typically very good at their jobs, and they'd have kept what really happened hidden. Trying to make it seem like accidents or random flukes that killed most of them.

Basically, most of them would never suspect a thing. Which is exactly what Isaiah wanted. If people assumed that things were normal, it meant he blended in better. Something that was proven when he handed over his ID and the guard scanned it, glanced up at the face, and waved him through the detector. When no weapons were detected, the guard just had him move on into the building.

From there, it was as easy as looking like he was where he belonged. Isaiah had memorized all of the layouts for the main floors a decade ago, something that came in handy now as he began to walk down the halls, noting the cameras and what blind spot existed before vanishing into one of them to remove the face he'd used, stashing both it and the acolyte robes into a locker before pulling the hood of his sneak suit over his face and touching the controls that would allow him to blend in.

This was when things began to slow down. Instead of the normal pace, he moved slowly, making his way down halls in a way that the cameras wouldn't pick up on. Eventually, he hit the ladder that led into the depths of Hilton Head. Where things were buried so long ago that not even the Primus or ROM knew what all was kept down there.

Thankfully, he didn't need to go all the way to the bottom, the systems he needed were located on one of the 'normal' floors. This was just the best way to move about unseen. What few cameras were in the emergency access points were less sensitive and his suit would be sufficient to fool them until he was in position.

Looking down, Isaiah sighed. Fifteen floors down a ladder was not going to be a fun time. It wasn't like he could bring a fast rope with him in addition to the equipment needed to tap into the HPG. So, with a grunt, he swung himself onto the ladder and began the long trek down into the depths of Hilton Head.





It took about an hour to climb down the ladder and to the floor Isaiah needed. Unfortunately, this wasn't one of the floors he had memorized, and while there were less people down here, security was heightened. So, he took it careful and slow. Any misstep here would mean mission failure.

Eventually, he found the power conduits and the room that provided access to that portion of the HPG and began to pull the heavy 'noteputer out of his pack. Plugging the device into the network from here, the Comguard began to type rapidly. This wasn't his specialty, no, that was the infiltration he'd just accomplished. Kyle was usually the one who did hte physical hacking. However, Isaiah had picked up enough over the years to accomplish this job.

Isaiah finished entering the access codes and then hesitated. If he hit enter here, then he was going to be cementing a likely civil war amidst Comstar. But if he didn't, then ROM would have the opportunity to do much worse.

The old Comguard had agreed with HOLY SHROUD. It made sense to him. Inner Sphere nations had wasted technology and its potential to commit mass atrocities. Forcing them to regress and (hopefully) be driven to the negotiating table and under Comstar's Banner would be the best outcome. At worst, they weren't able to hit eachother with orbital bombardment or similar.

But ROM had gone in and done the unthinkable. They'd not only struck at the Successor States and Periphery. No, they'd attacked their own. The former could be forgiven for zealotry. The latter could not.

With a heavy heart, Isaiah hit the enter key and left the 'noteputer behind. In twenty minutes, the HPG would transmit the message, and it'd spread throughout the network. Nothing could stop it now.

Moreover, the Primus was safe, and Isaiah didn't want to give any information to the enemy. So, he rushed back to the emergency access hatch and began to slide down the ladder. If he was going to go out, he was going to go out accomplishing a childhood dream.

Now that he was ignoring stealth, the Comguard moved much faster, hitting a level near the bottom of the shaft and climbing out to see rows of gleaming white 'mechs before him. They were supposed to be decommissioned entirely, but there were a few that the techs down ehre liked to keep functional for 'tests'.

Among them was a lone Atlas II. The prize of this part of the collection.

Isaiah climbed up the gantry and secreted himself into the cockpit as alarms began to go off. The lights in the area winked off, replaced by pale red emergency lighting, and the occasional flicker of something not quite on the visual spectrum.

It was standard procedure. You didn't turn the lights on for infiltrators, you turned the lights off and took advantage of the fact that any enemy that got this far would have exhausted all of their options and would be emitting some kind of heat and wouldn't have perfect night vision.

Unfortunately for them, Isaiah knew this, and he simply began going through the checks he'd practiced in the sims over and over again since joining Comstar as a Teenager. Finishing up, he pulled on the neurohelmet and grinned as the 'mech rumbled to life underneath him. Still, it would be ice cold until he opened fire. So, the Comguard toggled hte power off and waited, an emergency start wouldn't take long once he was discovered.

Two minutes passed, and eventually, the floor he was on began being searched. Flipping the 'mech on, he switched to infrared and pulled the triggers on the medium pulse lasers. The flashing beams melted the agents that were looking for him, and cleared a path to the elevator.

As Isaiah reached the surface, he accepted the fact that he was going to die here. This was going to be his resting place. At least before his oncoming death, he got to live up to his mother's ideals. Just this once, instead of being in the dark, he'd been a voice in the light.

The Elevator broke to the surface, and Isaiah began to move. Just because he ws certain he was going to die didn't mean he didn't want to live. His first target was the VTOLS the Comguards had scrambled to stop him.

His missile racks had half a ton of ammunition for both the short and longe range. So firing those was out of the question for now. His Autocannon and lasers didn't face such issues, and the spread of the LB-X hit the rotors and sent one of the VTOLs crashing to the ground.

Isaiah wasn't here to fight though, and began to head for the water, hoping that this would give him the opportunity to slip away unnoticed. The enemy 'mechs that finally decided to reach the surface disagreed, and they were much more talented than he was.

The PPCs from a Battlemaster and the Gauss rifle of an Excalibur rocked his Atlas II forward, nearly sending him sprawling on the ground. So, he turned to fight, his lasers and autocannon missing as he began to take more hits from a Griffin and a Hussar over the horizon.

Backing up to the shore while exchanging fire all the while, Isaiah stopped at the edge of a cliff. This was it. If his 'mech was compromised then he was going to die here. But if he stayed to fight, he was also dead and was going to be interrogated.

Steeling himself, Isaiah turned and fell off the cliff, his 'mech shimmering in and out of the enemy sensors all the while…
 
ComStar tearing itself apart this early is going to lead some very interesting butterflies. The Wolf Dragoons won't show up for several years -and when they do, they're going to find all sorts of interesting things.

An early Operation REVIVAL might just be on the list.
 

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