Scavenged Restoration 47 (Patreon)

Commissioned by RoyalTwinFangs

Scavenged Restoration

Chapter 47

-VB-

Ceasefire. 

After they occupied seven systems and destroyed over five battlemech regiments and so many more infantry and armored regiments…

Ceasefire.

It rankled a few of the colonels in charge of the offensive that the chancellor called off the invasion because their enemies had a coup and sued for peace. 

When Colonel Icarra Sung learned about this, he had half-tempted to summarily execute those colonels and lesser officers for treason against the chancellor. 

It was the chancellor who prepared them for the Davion invasion. It was the chancellor who brought them lostech back into the fold and granted them victory against the Anduriens. It was the chancellor who lifted a warship into Capellan service once more.

Who were these generals who had achieved so little?

But he kept himself back.

The chancellor had been clear on many things, and not executing officers for speaking their minds, respectfully, was not acceptable in his eyes. And so that was what Sung did. He didn’t execute them for speaking their minds and thoughts about the campaign. 

What he did do, however, was … work with the Maskirovka. 

Yes, the damn spies. 

He … disliked them. They were, after all, one of the people who made the chancellor’s life hell when he had been the heir. The fact that they now aligned with the chancellor didn’t wash this away in Sung’s eyes. In fact, it made them untrustworthy. Men and women who were so quick to change their minds and thoughts could be similarly persuaded to change their thoughts and allegiance, no? 

But there was a job to be done, and he cooperated with the Maskirovka to determine if any of the CCAF officers in the Canopus Campaign were planning anything else. 

And some were. 

A few of the bastards had been planning on fabricating an attack on themselves so that they can go back on the offensive while blaming the Canopians. It was a flagrant disregard of the confederation and the chancellor. 

They were traitors.

---

Brixtana, despite their best effort, had not been put under total occupation at the time of the ceasefire, only the third and fourth largest cities on the planet as well as just one of the six continents. The CCAF regiments sent here, the Hampton’s Hessens and the 2nd St. Ives Lancers, had been too reliant on the citizen hopefuls. Or rather, they allowed themselves to lose a whole regiment of Firebees. That kind of incompetence should have been recalled and dismissed, but the ceasefire had arrived. 

He looked down at his monitor and saw the stream of placement confirmations. Good. 

Colonel Fletcher knew that this was risky. If anyone even whispered that they circumvented the chancellor’s orders, then they and their families might be executed. However, if he allowed himself to go along with the ceasefire, then he would be recalled after the war, discharged, and even lose his family’s nobility for his incompetence. He couldn’t allow that to happen.

So the war had to continue. 

“Good,” he muttered before opening up comms to his unit.

He couldn’t trust all of the 2nd St. Ives Lancers. Most would not understand his desperation. Or the foolhardy nature of what he was trying to do. And weren’t stupid enough to be fooled into thinking that this was what the confederation needed. 

He looked arond from the inside of his Victor’s cockpit. There were eighteen mechs here, of which only ten bore proper Capellan colors. 

“Alright, soldiers. You know what all of your jobs are?” he asked as he looked around. 

A few of the uneducated citizen hopefuls had placed themselves inside Canopian colored and marked mechs. Of course, they would die in the ensuing fight, and he would… take care of their families. After all, they would not have earned any citizenship with how the war was coming to an end, but the recommendation of a noble would be enough to get them exactly that for their families. 

He received the affirmatives. 

“Good. Hopefuls, you know your job?”

He again received affirmatives from dead men walking. 

“Very well. To your positions, then.”

But just as the mechs began to move, the dark forest around them rumbled. 

They rumbled with the footsteps of many mechs. And lights began to appear.

Fletcher whirled around. 

They were surrounded. 

He grimaced as CCAF mechs… no, Death Commandos began to appear all around them. 

“Colonel Fletcher,” the dry and scratchy voice of Colonel Icarra Sung drawled out as an Atlas walked out from behind the tall trees and a pair of Hunchbacks that had cleared the way out of the forest first. “How odd meeting you out here. In a forest. By yourself and a few men. When there are no combat or planned future combat.” The Atlas minutely raised its AC/10. “Or… perhaps… have you been scheming?”

Fletcher felt rage roaring up from within him. 

“Why are you here…?” he hissed out. “You should be on the main continent, holding your position!” 

“Oh, I was,” the Death Commando commander hummed. “But then I heard a little birdie tell me that there were some … very discontent officers.” Then the tone changed. “Officers, who are supposed to dutifully carry out the orders of the chancellors… discontent?!” he snapped at the end like the crack of a whip. “And look what we have here! Boys, please shine a light on those … odd … mechs.”

Fletcher looked around and saw at least three dozen lights being shined his way. 

Ah. 

They brought at least three mech companies. 

And they were of heavier tonnage as well. 

His shoulders drooped. 

Not only was he incompetent, he was caught actively disobeying the chancellor, either collaborating with the enemy or scheming against the one and only leader of the confederation. 

“Now, Colonel Fletcher, are those Canopian colors I see?” 

He didn’t answer. 

What was the point?

“Men, power down your mechs,” he ordered out loud as he did exactly that. “They know nothing, Sung. I’m the one who told them to do this.”

“Oh?” 

“Yes.”

“... Brave of you to assume that I care.”

“Did the chancellor not declare that all mechwarriors should conserve their lives and that of their allies?”

“YOU DO NOT GET TO SAY THAT AFTER YOUR INCOMPENTCE!” Sung roared out, making everyone flinch at his abrupt and wrathful shout. “How many green mechwarriors did you get killed out there?! How many future citizens did you burn for a scrap of land on a meaningless world?!”

“... Too many,” he muttered. 

He opened the hatch of his Victor and stepped out. 

Then he pulled his service pistol out. 

And pointed it to his own forehead. 

Sung snarled. “You son of a bi-!” 

-VB-

Dissent… happened.

As I looked over the report from Colonel Sung, I let out a sigh. 

The Capellan Confederation was not a monolith of ethnic Sino-Russo authoritarian communism. The common people had their concerns, the nobles had their concerns, and the leaders had their concerns. It was obvious why Colonel Fletcher had done what he did, but I was also thankful that he had intentionally limited the involvement to as few people as possible. 

A few similar incidents happened here and there across the Canopian front. Surprisingly, most of it was initiated by who I could only call the old guard. It wasn’t that they weren’t loyal but it was the very idea that there was a ceasefire that drove them to do it. Between the unending wars of the Third Succession War and then the grueling and volcanic blood letting of the Fourth Succession War, the old guard had lost their place. Their way of life and tactic had no place in this new confederation. 

Ceasefire while we were winning was one such thing. 

All outsiders were evil.

All outsiders want us dead. 

All outsiders want to erase our identity. 

All outsiders were evil.

It’s what the Capellans taught each other and their children… and they weren’t wrong. Had it been against the Davions or Steiners, I would have ignored such incidents as long as it didn’t break the wider truce and ceasefire. 

“Drop the noble rank of his family by one grade,” I instructed the administrator who had waited for my orders. “No other punishments.”

“... Celestial Wisdom, would that be truly enough?” the administrator asked hesitantly. That she asked at all was something praiseworthy, considering that people still hesitated to ask questions. “The now nameless man had committed treason. Went against your order.”

“Yes,” I replied. “It is true that the nameless man had committed treason. However, that is his sin, not that of his family. His family did not participate in his treason nor support it. His family mech has been confiscated and now they will lose their rank. What noble rank are they?”

“They hold the title of Barons of Assomet, a small continent on Tantara in St. Ives Commonality, Celestial Wisdom.”

“Then they are now mere lords and ladies. They will have to work to maintain that lordship now, and even if they retain the deeds to the continent, they are now barred from claiming many rights afforded to barons. Rights that mere lords and ladies do not have. And with the confiscation of the Victor assault mech, they will be - how do the youngsters say it these days? - ah, yes, grinding themselves just to keep their titles. No, that is enough punishment as far as I am concerned.” Then I paused as I signed off on what I just ordered and handed the dataslate to her. “However, if new information arises from the investigation and they did support his treasonous actions, then the Maskirovka will take care of them.”

The administrator bowed, took the slate, and backpedaled out of my giant office. 

The ornate and golden leafed ornate doors slid close with a click after she left. 

I leaned back into my seat. I allowed myself to feel the warm sunlight on my back and head.

Then after a while, I leaned back forward with my back straight and got back to work.

If I was going to integrate some of the Canopian worlds, then I needed the administration to be ready to accept them. This meant rotating loyal personnel from Capellan worlds to Canopian worlds, stationing extra strength garrison, smoothing local-confederate relations, preventing the nobility from muscling in, and the rest of the details of ruling. 

Which included plans about using those worlds for exploration and colonization. 

-VB-

Countess Allison Mambalay of New Abilene worked frantically to pull up whatever resource she had at her disposal for the defense of New Abilene. 

Just because there was a ceasefire did not mean that peace would reign afterward. For all she knew, the new magistrix might decide to just fuck it and throw the magistracy back into the war. She could see that happening if the Capellan chancellor demanded the full scope of medical technologies Canopus held dearly to their bosom. 

Because that and the entertainment tourism were the only things economically sustaining the magistracy. If that advantage were to disappear, then why would anyone visit Canopus, which was at the edge of the Inner Sphere? Why not just visit the local whores and casinos instead? 

It was for this reason that she continued to prep her world… even at the cost of other worlds like Addasar. She drafted new soldiers from the terrified populace, had her soldiers train them, and fortified every single important bits of land.

And she intended to keep doing it.

Until this happened. 

“The new magistrix wants me to … what?” 

Allison stared at the MAF officer standing in front of her. 

“She has ordered you to join her on her journey to Sian for the peace deal negotiation,” the officer replied without hiding anything. 

Allison stared at her before leaning back into her chair. 

“But why? I am just the governor of the province,” she said out loud. 

The officer shook her head. “I do not know what thoughts the magistrix has, countess. I am merely here to relay the orders.” 

She gulped. 

She wasn’t sure if this was a good thing for her, but … orders were orders. Because from the look of things, the new magistrix (the former heir Emma Centrella) had the full backing of the military that her mother apparently did not have. 

“And when does she need me to be there on Sian?”

“Ma’am, the order from the magistrix was ‘to bring the countess to me as soon as possible, no delays.’”

A pause. 

“My superiors have decided that this means you will be joining on our departure from New Abilene V next week.”

Her eyes widened. 

“The 3rd Canopian Fusiliers are leaving?” she asked, aghast. 

They were the vast majority of mech defenders! 

“Yes, countess,” she replied. “It seems… it seems that the magistrix intends on obtaining peace at any cost.”

Allison’s heart sank at those words. 

“The colonel expects you and a maximum of ten retinue and their baggage on Saturday 10:00 a.m. sharp. Please don’t be late, countess. May I be excused?”

“Y-You may.”

The officer saluted and left.

And Allison felt like throwing up.

-VB-

A/N:

New Abilene Province. 

Made it the fuck up.