Scavenged Restoration 57 (Patreon)

Commissioned by RoyalTwinFangs

Scavenged Restoration

Chapter 57

-VB-

The entire nation stood still as the news arrived. 

The Canopian concubine of the chancellor, Countess Allison Mambalay, had gone into labor. 

The news spread faster than most news would. Before the end of the first hour, Terra heard it. By the end of the second hour of the countess’s labor, Luthien heard it. Within that first hour, both the Tharkad and New Avalon courts began to discuss the implication of a successful heir succeeding the Capellan throne while House Marik and the Chrysanthemum Throne in Luthien wondered what shift there would be within the chancellor. 

Childbirth always brought change to both parents, after all, and they wondered if the brutally pragmatic chancellor would stay the same. 

Or more importantly, if it was possible to sway the chancellor through his firstborn. 

Or, perhaps, there was a possibility of even killing the newborn to test the chancellor’s mettle. 

Oh, the sweet prince. 

A man who suffered for the sake of his people. A ruler who loved his people so much that he rotted for a decade in silence. 

How glorious would it be to break a man like that?

How great would it be for their nations if the Capellans lost the final support keeping them afloat?

Or… why not poison the chancellor’s reality to the point that he becomes the confederation's own worst enemy? 

After all, it wouldn't be hard to disguise an assassin as a Capellan.

But that was not something that would happen right now. 

No.

The entire Inner Sphere and even the Periphery held their breath as they awaited the news of the chancellor’s firstborn.

And everyone spoke their own prayers for their own futures. 

-VB-

Hanse Davion was not one of the many who prayed for misfortune to fall upon the chancellor. 

In fact, as a father himself, he found it hard to do that. 

Sure, many other fathers who’s lost their sons and daughters to the confederation certainly will, but just as he didn’t wish ill-will upon Theodore Kurita’s children for now, he also didn’t wish the same. And the Kuritans had killed his brother. 

“Why?” he muttered to himself while looking down at Victor. 

Named for what he represented but what his father failed to bring forth, Victor was a light in his life just like Melissa was. Their daughter, Andrea, named after her late uncle, and their youngest, Catherine, named after her grandmother, were also shining lights in his life. 

Why didn’t he hate William for threatening it all? 

He took a deep breath and let it out. 

Because Hanse knew that, at the end of the day, William had done everything in his power to not attack him. Everything William had done was in the name of survival, not domination. That everything he’d done, has done, and will do was in the name of his people’s survival. 

And that, more than anything, hurt Hanse deeply. It cut so deep because he, who along with the rest of the Great Houses, have been vying for dominance, got thrashed by someone who was merely looking to survive. 

Still did to this day in ways that he didn’t understand but knew was happening anyways. 

Considering the kinds of intel wins that the Maskirovka won against the Federated Suns and the Lyan Commonwealth, William could have possibly caused some deaths. Probably did, too, but if there was one consistency that was visible to Hanse and his Inner circle as well as Katrina and her inner circle, then it was the fact that ever since William took power, assassination attempts on both of their lives - and that of their close family - had fallen in number.

Assassinations still continued, targeting military officers, logistics, overly outspoken celebrities, and the like.

But never at him and his family. 

Was it under William’s order? Was it some kind of new trick? 

Regardless, it left him uneasy. 

He hated it. 

But it was also why he wouldn’t curse William. Not for becoming a father. 

-VB-

Takashi Kurita stared down at the blank paper in front of him. 

His ally was becoming a father. The man who dug up some of the worst secrets of the Chrysanthemum Throne was finally becoming a father. 

But now, Takashi wasn’t sure what he would send as a gift. 

Sending one of the Combine’s iconic battlemechs wouldn’t send the right message. If anything, it might upset the chancellor. 

Perhaps he could send some of the FedSuns prisoners the Combine still had? That might prove more useful, but sending prisoners to celebrate the chancellor’s firstborn might not be fitting. 

“Son.”

Theodore paused in whatever he had been writing and looked up. “Yes, father?”

This was one of the rare times that they were in the same room in these trying times. 

“What do you believe would be a good gift for the Capellan chancellor?” he asked as he stroked his new growing moustache. 

Because Takashi Kurita was not one to send gifts, he wasn’t quite sure what to do here.

His son blinked before leaning back. 

“The chancellor always seems to know everything that happens in the Inner Sphere,” Theodore spoke after a while. “He knew the invasions that were coming from all directions. His Maskirovka agents are … apt at their job.”

“More than our ISF?”

“They are different in my opinion, father,” he shook his head. “Our ISF focuses on infiltration, suppression, and assassination,” he said frankly. “The Maskirovka are similar, yes, but that’s because both are intelligence agencies. It is my opinion that the Maskirovka, at least under Chancellor William, specialize in strategic information acquisition on a theater level abroad and information suppression at home.” 

“... I see,” he hummed. This was in line with what Indrahar reported. “So perhaps they will appreciate some education from our ISF on dissident suppression?” 

“Unlikely, father. If anything, they are better at it than we are because they have even less dissidents than we do and a cultural incentive to report on their own neighbors.”

“So?”

“If I were to send a gift for the birth of the chancellor’s firstborn, then I would not think about the chancellor but what the child and its mother need. While we are technologically behind the Capellans, we have a larger industrial capacity. Perhaps we can offer a trade deal with the Capellans to improve their worlds closer to Terra so that they can focus on their newly acquired periphery provinces.”

“Ah, yes,” Takashi muttered. “Their Aurigan and New Abilene Commonalities.”

It made for quite the news across the Inner Sphere not just in how easily the Chancellor reversed the numerical losses he suffered during the Fourth Succession War but in how smoothly he did it. There were now talks in Luthien’s halls about looking toward the Outworlds Alliance or the Coreward Periphery.

After all, pirates had to be easier to eradicate than the Fedrats! 

And the Outworlds Alliance, well, those pacificistic idiots wouldn’t fight back too hard if he gave them some semi-autonomous rights. 

“... It seems to me that I do not have the right mindset for this,” Takashi shook his head. He could admit this because they were in private. “If you have the time, Theodore, then send a gift to the chancellor on my behalf.”

With that, he stood up and left the room, leaving the calligraphy paper blank.

Because when one faced a problem they could not solve by themselves, it was best to delegate. 

Besides, it would do well for Theodore to build up even more relations with the Capellan chancellor for his future reign as the Coordinator. 

-VB-

Waiting for the result was hell. 

I waited just outside her operating room where the best doctors and midwives from across Sian worked to ensure the safe delivery of my first child and Allison’s health. 

But my legs wanted to bounce while I waited. 

I wanted to pace. 

My body felt alive not with energy but with fear and desperation.

Were they going to safe? Were they going to be okay? 

Even with Star League era medicine, childbirths can still kill mothers. It was a small chance but it could happen. What was I going to do if Allison died? 

“Chancellor.”

I didn’t quite freeze and managed to look up smoothly. 

“Aunt Ling,” he greeted softly as the elderly Maskirovka director sat down next to him. 

“You need to stop thinking about the what-if’s,” she spoke gently and softly. “Remember who you are. You are not just a father but also the chancellor. Balance the roles, if you must, but even in this… you must not allow yourself to be swayed.”

I wanted to shout at her. Yell at her. 

But my decades of ingrained education, noble upbringing, and self-discipline instead told me to do as she said. 

I straightened my back from the forward hunch I’ve been in and took in a deep breath. “The Maskirovka Director should not be telling the chancellor on what he should or ought to do with his life.”

“Good, then don’t put me in that position as your aunt.”

I snorted, even as my heart stuttered with worry and fear. 

“Do you not trust your people? Did you not pick out these doctors and midwives based on their experience and accomplishments? Do you not trust your own judgement?”

“My judgement has nothing to do with my emotions. I am above it.”

“... Fair enough, chancellor,” she chuckled. “Then let us do the jobs you’ve given us. Your worry leads us to believe we are not worthy of the task you’ve given us.”

“... I get it,” I hissed out. “Even if it feels like a total fabrication right now.”

“If it is a fabrication, then you are a very good actor,” she laughed. 

“... thanks for distracting me.”

“Of course. Don’t you know that misdirection is part of my job description?”

I snorted at her joke.

I -.

Ding.

I froze.

I looked up and straight ahead. 

The procedure room’s light had gone off.

And suddenly, my heart was pounding again. 

After a few moments, the doors creaked open slowly and a tired midwife in scrubs came out. 

That…

That was a lot of blood. 

I slowly stood up.

The tired midwife, a woman with bags under her eyes after fourteen hours, looked up and saw me.

“Ah. Chancellor.”

Please.

Please don’t.

Then she smiled. 

“It’s a healthy girl!” 

My heart lurched.

Then I fainted.