Collection 45 (Patreon)

Collection

Chapter 45

-VB-

Ian Davion

New Avalon, Federated Suns

3004 November 10

“Jesus Christ.”

The rumors of warship and images of it had been one thing, but the holovid of a larger warship - the largest one ever recorded, in fact, according to Hanse, his brother who used to make model warships in his teens - laying waste to a moon’s surface cinched it. 

Whatever crisis the Capellans were going through was also a danger to the Federated Suns, but he also recognized the danger for what it was: a silent dragon that had been rudely woken up by someone trying to steal gold from its hoard. 

The solution to such a danger was simple: keep himself and his people away from the danger at all cost. 

The problem? 

“Someone is going to do something stupid,” Hanse said to the side with the same certainty that a Locust will lose to an Atlas. “Ian, you have to make a statement about this as soon as possible.”

“I agree,” Matilda Davion, the Prince’s Champion, agreed from Hanse’s left. 

Ian stared at them from across the table and gestured to the holovid. “You realize I want to go and meet the bastard who’s fucking over the Liaos, right?” he asked rhetorically. Then he sighed. “I know, I know. I should say something, but I also have generals and nobles prodding me about getting our hands on a warship. As if we have anything that can stand up to this,” he wildly gestured to the image of the warship that was at least ten times longer than the largest dropship the entire Federated Suns - not just the AFFS but the entire nation - had. 

“Tell them to shove it,” Count Nicholas Truston, the Minister of Information, Intelligence, and Operations, replied bluntly. For a man in charge of the military intelligence of the Federated Suns, the count could be extremely blunt when he wanted to be. Like with everyone else at the table except perhaps one, such bluntness came from his military service rather than as a civilian or bureaucratic appointment. “This is a kind of a threat that we cannot afford to anger, not when they are right at our border.” 

Ian grimaced. 

This was also true. The Victoria system was just two jumps away at most from the Capellan-FedSuns borders. If someone important from the Federated Suns upset the now angry giant kicking up the Capellan ant nest, then they would be close enough to retaliate. And they could not have that happen, because such attacks will prevent an amicable and working relationship from forming for decades.

He sat there, replaying the video of a giant warship - it was bigger than a battleship, so should he call it a dreadnought? - bombarded the moon’s surface. Watched the surface turn into a sea of lava. 

“Fifteen minutes to reduce an area the size of Cadbury Island into that,” Hanse muttered but it was loud enough for Ian to hear his brother. “That’s a lot more firepower than even a battleship.” Cadbury Island was the island on New Avalon that sat across the Strait of St. Michael from New Avalon City itself. 

“How much more powerful, Hanse?” he asked the resident expert because, well, a warship model collecting prince was the best expert the entire Federated Suns had at hand.

Hanse grimaced. “It takes a squadron of battleships hours to devastate a city like New Avalon,” he replied. “And that’s because there’s enough bunkers and reinforced structures that can withstand a hit or two from a battleship’s guns. But the giant we’re seeing here did that and heated the surface enough to turn it all into lava in fifteen minutes without using nuclear weapons.”

“They may as well use nuclear weapons,” Duke Maia de Januse, the Director of the Department of Military Intelligence, commented dryly. “What’s our arsenal’s largest yield?” she asked. 

“250 gigatons, the Forbidden Sun,” Hanse replied almost instantly. 

Ah.

Ian remembered learning about that. It was considered one of the direst of weapons in the FedSuns’ arsenal. To be used only when the capital itself was in danger. 

Because if it was ever used on a habitable planet, then it would turn the world into a wasteland forever. 

“What we are seeing is not on par with it,” Hanse replied. “But it comes close. I couldn’t tell you how close it is because I obviously haven’t seen the Forbidden Sun’s field tests, definitely not,” he added with a somber grin. “But it would be close.”

“See? May as well have used nukes,” Duke de Januse gestured. “Which means that we now have a ‘rogue’ state with their hands on some of the worst weapons of mass destruction on our hands. It is no longer about whether or not they have the most powerful weapon but the fact that we could be targeted at any time.”

“Then we don’t give them a reason to target us,” Hanse interjected. “We set up an embassy with them.”

“... Are you kidding me?” Ian asked incredulously. 

“We know that the Arlaoskas Fleet loitered around the rimward periphery for months, if not close to a year,” his brother reasoned. “But we didn’t hear anything about them, their capabilities, and their warships until the Capellans invaded a periphery state that the Fleet considered their ally. Then all we have to do is communicate with them. Let them know our position, maintain that clear line of communication, and keep our rivals from getting their hands on the Fleet. Because if push comes to shove, we can throw half a dozen Forbidden Suns to neutralize that giant. What I’m worried about is their ability to mass produce corvettes and frigates.”

Ian grimaced. 

That was something that the DMI agents in the Fleet-occupied systems reported. Each and every single system put under occupation by the Arlaoskas Fleet experienced three significant changes. 

The first was the aforementioned corvettes and frigates. They were warships, capable of both interstellar and intrastellar FTL that wasn’t a KF Drive jump. The current tally was at least sixty-five warships. 

Sixty-five warships.

That was enough warships to form a warship squadron, something none of the Successor States could claim to even come close to. Mostly because no one had warships anymore. 

As far as the entire Inner Sphere was concerned, the Arlaoskas Fleet was the new superpower. 

Which was why angering them was a suicide move and because of the second change seen in the Fleet-occupied systems.

Jumpships. 

The Arlaoskas Fleet did not respect the unwritten accord about jumpships’ sanctity. If the jumpship flew the Capellan flag, then it was getting blown up. If it was transporting Capellan goods, then it was getting seized. 

Any jumpship that appeared in the occupied systems came under near-intrusive scrutiny and some kind of high tech scans that the DMI agents couldn’t find any detail on, only that there was a ray of light involved. 

Finally, the third change. 

The supposed “FTL Communication Buoys.” 

It was how the DMI agents were able to send their data to New Avalon without alerting anyone on the ground by visiting the HPG Stations in the occupied systems. Even radio messages, if they were strong enough, could be transmitted, though the distance from origin to initial comm buoy and then from the target comm buoy to destination needed to be taken into account if one wanted the message to be coherent when received. 

Because that’s what they had done! 

The Arlaoskas Fleet had set up a comm buoy within the New Avalon System. The warship that the fleet had parked in the edge of the system no longer blasted out on all channels but rather let the comm buoy do it. Then after leaving behind another comm buoy, the warship just left. 

That second comm buoy was currently being dissected by the best scientists and engineers New Avalon had on hand. 

Their actions also made something else clear. 

The Arlaoskas Fleet was not only a technologically advanced “faction,” but also one who had a grudge against ComStar. 

Which was fair. The “fleetmaster” made his international debut with the holovid showing him in combat with the ComGuard. 

Ian also suspected that the cunning fleetmaster had warships in the capital systems of all other successor states except maybe Sian and doing the same thing he did here in the New Avalon system. 

Show off a warship, broadcast a bunch of information about the war, build a FTL comm buoy, build a second for study, and then leave. 

It would not only undermine ComStar but also slowly render them obsolete. 

Because the thing about the FTL comm buoy that he understood so far from reports? 

It wasn’t an HPG station. It didn’t operate on the same principle. 

Which also meant that, by definition, it was not under the purview of the treaties that gave ComStar control over the Inner Sphere’s communication network. 

“And who will we send as our ambassador?” Hanse asked. 

“We should send a woman.”

Everyone turned to the so far quiet member of the meeting: Yvonne Davion, the director of the Analysis and Speculation Department of the DMI and the daughter of Champion Matilda Davion.

“Why do you say that, director?” her mother asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Fleetmaster Edward Arlaoskas is currently known to not have a companion. If the amiable diplomat we send hits it off with him, then good. We will have someone biased in favor of the Federated Suns. If not, then nothing happens and we have an experienced diplomat working in an embassy within the Fleet’s control. Regardless of the outcome, we will have achieved something out of this crisis the Capellans brought unto themselves.” 

Ian looked at Hanse, and his brother looked back at him. They then had a very simple if brief conversation with only raised eyebrows, frowns, and head shaking.

Do you know someone?

No. Do you?

No..

They looked back at Yvonne. 

“Do you have someone in mind?”

“I do, in fact.”

-VB-

A/N: I don’t, in fact. 

This is where you, my dear supporters from Patreon and Ko-Fi, come in.

You get to vote not with polls but with what kind of image I’ll produce with AI image generator. I will use six most used descriptions in your comments (i.e. “blonde,” “Hermione Granger,” “big breasts,” and “tall” would be four descriptions while “blonde and big breasted Hermione Granger” would be three.)

So vote with your voice. Or fingers on the keyboard. 

I will eagerly await just who you might have chosen to become a MC’s first wife.

(Author retains the right to reject intentionally ugly-made characters.)