Part 521: Carlos' Crusaders Campaign Vote 2

Campaign Update 2



“I don’t like this.”

Qiang Marcus rubbed his eyes, wigging his fingers beneath the thin transplex riot shield on his domed helmet. Marcus still thought the huge, bulbous things looked more comical than threatening, but he’d seen enough soldiers blackjacked by desperate criminals to appreciate the benefits. Security detail was never enjoyable and often uncomfortable but when the site they were securing was the blackened husk of ComStar’s primary office on Abadan this was shaping to be the most uncomfortable security detail of Marcus’s career. Everyone was on edge. The guards, the sallow, dark-eyed locals, and the officers who showed their discomfort by issuing conflicting orders.

“Shut up, Grouse,” Marcus grunted as his fingers wrapped once more around the stock of his laser rifle. Its presence was reassuring, even though he half expected the specter of Jerome Blake itself to come storming out of the charred rubble behind him. It hadn’t happened yet, but the way Grouse kept on you’d think he’d only been delayed because he meant to invite the ghosts of Aleksandr Kerensky and Stefan Amaris along to help.

“I’m telling you, Tartan. This ain’t going to end well. The red birds, ComStar, Abadan, none of it. Did you hear the Prefectorate Guard was ordered out? The whole operation’s being handed to that creep “Xuan Wu.” I’m telling you, the gods are displeased and the Confederation’s going to be punished for our temerity.”

“You’re forgetting we have Sun Wu on our side now,” Marcus countered. Grouse had earned his nickname for his constant complaining. He’d been beaten and bruised for it but after two decades he was now the best boxer in the company. He’d never stopped grumbling even once, as a veteran he’d earned the right. Marcus was just in no mood today. He’d just managed to get out the “If” that started his full retort when the deadman’s switch under the HPG failed to receive the hourly all-clear from the admin building or the back-up all-clear from the small training facility ComStar had been permitted to build on Abadan’s second continent.

If knowledge of it would have been any consolation to Marcus, the “relatively small” ten megaton warhead under the HPG’s primary receiver was more than powerful enough to vaporize him instantaneously.



****************************************



Duncan Marik moved another unit in the vast expanse of his war room’s holotank and signaled for the computer to run another series of simulations. Another run, another Capellan breakthrough. This time in only three months. So far, the best-case scenario had cost him a half-dozen worlds. His only son—his only child—was alive. He was alive and held just out of Duncan’s reach.

How many planets was Carlos worth? It was the kind of harsh arithmetic he expected the likes of the devils Hanse Davion and Takashi Kurita would have had no problems with. He know what Janos Marik’s answer would have been: not one. Not one world was worth the life of an heir, even if that heir was a blood relation. He would have left his own sons to die in a situation like this, and simply found another heir from the extended family and groomed them instead. Janos always maintained that historically, the best heirs were the ones groomed for the job, rather than the ones born to it. Duncan wouldn’t have been Janos’s first choice, he knew that, but with Duggan and Thomas killed in the same bombing that claimed Janos Marik’s life, the task had fallen upon him all the same.

Duncan was no Hanse Davion, no Takashi Kurita, and he was certainly no Janos Marik. He had no forces to spare and there were no mercenary forces close enough that he trusted to do the job. The Lyran Commonwealth was buying up Mercenaries in droves to fight off the very same invaders who’d recently swept (relatively peacefully) through the Free Worlds League. Duncan wouldn’t have trusted the un-hired dregs on Galatea to tie his boots. Janos Marik had always maintained that the moment the Captain-General of the League showed weakness the League was doomed.

The old man had been wrong before. Duncan needed an asset that wouldn’t hurt the League’s ability to resist the outside help. He’d beg for help if he needed, but one way or another he was going to rescue his son.



Request Assistance From
A) ComStar
B) Stefan Amaris
C) The Red Corsair
D) Hanse Davion
E) The Clans