"My dear Michael," it began—with a lie. "Had it been solely up to me, I would have apprised you of this information much earlier. As well you know, I value your wisdom and devoted service as the guardian of the Capellan March. However, other forces have prevented me from sharing this joyous news with you before now."
Michael snorted derisively. You pretend to blame the security precautions of your own Quintus Allard or the Lyran Commonwealth’s Simon Johnson for this unspeakable breach of faith, but you do not fool me, Hanse. You are not known as the Fox for your slavish devotion to the wishes of subordinates. No, Hanse, I see your shadow hand behind all of this.
The Duke slid from his desktop and crossed the room to stare out the arched window. Any other time, the view he had of the New Syrtis Spaceport would have calmed him, because it was such a strong reminder of how much power he did wield. He studied the dozen egg-shaped DropShips squatting on the tarmac. Their cargo ports stood open for loading, with service personnel hurrying about to fill the ships' empty bellies before New Syrtis's unpredictable weather could close the scheduled launch window.
In and around the DropShips marched BattleMechs on sentry duty. Ten meters tall and humanoid in configuration, the heavily armored war machines moved steadily around the spaceport's perimeter. Though the Duke was too distant to hear the thunder of their heavy tread, he accurately conjured up the sound from memory. Each step raised a thick, red cloud of dust, but Michael saw it as a bloodmist.
I am the master of all this. I command those ships. My orders dispatch them to rendezvous with JumpShips, and my orders send those JumpShips hopping thirty light years at a burst to carry out my whims. And I command the BattleMechs of a dozen Regimental Combat Teams. Ishould be invincible.He glanced down at the note. How is it that this piece of paper can destroy me?
He forced himself to continue reading. "Ordinary though the situation is, it will come as a shock. Yes, Michael, my years of bachelorhood come to an end next August. In Melissa Arthur Steiner, I have found a woman who is all that I have been looking for."
Michael's fingernails scratched across the window's casement as his right hand slowly tightened into a fist. You speak of your bride as though she is secondary to the whole situation. You call her a woman, but she‘ll reach her majority barely six months before your wedding. Yet, I must agree that you speak true in saying she is all you have been seeking. She is the link that forges an alliance between your Federated Suns and the Lyran Commonwealth. You'd have married her as a babe in bed if her mother Katrina would have stood for it, or you would have wed Katrina herself were she capable of bearing you an heir.
A purple stormcloud roiled overhead, cutting off the soft golden glow of New Syrtis's nearest star. It robbed the angular landscape of its bright scarlet, bathing it in a deep maroon whose color reminded Michael of dried blood. Lightning spikes stabbed down into the earth with terrible power, forcing even the Battle-Mechs to retreat before the storm's fury.
Michael returned to his desk as the storm started the wind howling like a kalacinewaiting its turn at a slaughterhouse. "I'm sure, Michael, that you see the political benefits of this marriage. With the Lyran Commonwealth tied more tightly to us, we will box in the Draconis Combine. This means, as you have long requested, that I will be able to shift some of my military resources to your Capellan March. Together, we can strengthen your domain so that the covetous Capellans will be persuaded to look elsewhere."
Michael smashed his right fist into the desk and then, raising it to his mouth, sucked at his bruised knuckles. No, Hanse, you'll not sink your military talons into my realm. No. You seek to be Brutus to my Julius Caesar. You cloak your attempt to oust me with words of friendly intent, but I see beyond them. Once you have married Melissa Steiner, you will need fear no one.
Michael glanced at the shelves behind his desk. There, in rare leatherbound originals or holodisc editions, he had amassed an enviable collection of histories, some dating from the time even before the Star League. His bloody knuckles tasted salty-sweet, but he barely noticed it as his mind raced on.
It's all there, Hanse. Don't you think I know it? Man's history has always been the story of conquest by war. The advent of BattleMechs some six centuries ago did not change this basic fact, yet you have ignored it. You consider 'Mechs to be a necessary tool, yet you do not see these glorious war engines for what they truly are—the highest evolutionary state of mankind's drive for conquest. A warrior may not become one with his BattleMech— though that legend persists—but in his 'Mech, he can reach the pinnacle of his personal abilities.
Michael dropped his hand and pursed his lips. Hanse, you ignore this fact and force me to join you in playing at politics. How much do you know of my ties with Maximilian Liao? If you knew I'd visited him, you’d have stripped me of my office and settled it like a noose around my captive son Morgan's neck. You may have your suspicions about me, but you have no proof. Trust me, Hanse, you shall never have any.
Michael walked over to a map of the Successor States and let the fingers of his right hand trace the slender wedge that marked his Capellan March. My realm, larger even than the Capellan Confederation.I should be one of the five Successor Lords, but you ignore me and the claims of my blood, Hanse. You have forced me to deal with Maximilian Liao because you have refused to give me the forces I need to conquer him. Had I the troops, I could destroy him. Ah, but then, having proved to the entire Federated Suns my ability to lead, I would be able to take your place on the throne so that our people could have a proper leader at the helm of our nation.
The salty taste still lingered on the Duke's tongue as his eyes flicked over the other Great Houses pictured on the map. Already, Hanse, your hatchling alliance with the Lyran Commonwealth has drawn your three foes together. The Draconis Combine's leader, Takashi Kurita, has forced Janos Marik and Maximilian Liao to set aside their bickering so they may deal with you and House Steiner. Their alliance is not as strong as yours, for suspicion continues to undermine the ties between the Free Worlds League and the Capellans but their alliance is far from impotent.
Michael smiled slowly. But then, your rivals do not know your alliance has fledged, do they? News of your impending marriage will galvanize them. They will bind together and they will come to crush you.Michael took a step back from the map. But how may I benefit from this turn of events?
The Duke of New Syrtis tapped his index finger against his chin. Studying his map, he saw how the borders of the Draconis Combine and the Free Worlds League were poised like the jaws of some fierce hunting animal to snap the life from the Lyran Commonwealth, Davion's ally. As his thoughts raced, he slowly nodded to himself.
Yes, I must inform Liao of your betrothal. I will continue to forward the information you send me on strengths and positions of your troops, and I will continue to undervalue the strength of my own troops in the same reports. I will convince Liao that the Lyran Commonwealth could fall to a combined strike by Houses Marik and Kurita.
Liao, that little viper, will agree to this because it means that Marik will shift troops to the Lyran border, giving him a chance to recover some of the worlds his Confederation lost to the Free Worlds League over the past century. Liao, so confident that he knows my own strength, will pull forces from my border to launch an attack on his enemy.