[Arthur Corean - Age 28]
[Highway 4, on the road to Avalon City]
[Avalon City, New Avalon; Federated Suns]
[April 5th, 3025]
I couldn't stop myself from smiling as I watched my younger brother, Yuri, practically paste his face to the Ferroglas viewports as we cruised languidly toward the Upper District of New Avalon City. Even at 18 years old the man was still so much a boy in so many ways, and though this wasn't his first time on New Avalon he still had figurative stars in his eyes as he watched the artfully styled buildings, monorails, and large green spaces that Avalon City was known for pass us by.
We were traveling toward the Upper District, where New Avalon University and my apartment were located, and we were traveling in style.
The Lamborghini Typhon was a 10-ton monstrosity of a vehicle, built to the specifications of a goddamn Battlemech, with a powerful hydrogen fuel cell capable of getting the beast up to 150 kilometers per hour and three tons of Battlemech grade Starslab armor plating. Vacuum and NBC-rated, the van was the perfect blend of rugged durability and ludicrous luxury, with fancy wood grains, leather shock couches with mink-appointed safety harnesses and other super fancy things that I really didn't give a shit about.
What I did care about, however, was that the van was super fucking durable and it was more than luxurious enough for someone of my station to have; it even had an 11.5mm rotary cannon for Anti-Infantry purposes that could pop out of the top rear of the vehicle. It took a while to get the permits for the weapons package, but considering who I was and what I represented I was able to push it through with no problem, along with the permits for my fully armed bodyguard escort teams.
The van itself had enough room to hold myself, my brother, two of my personal aids, and a twelve-man security team that was made up of a smattering of retired AFFS Regular Infantry and a few Special Forces types whom I paid handsomely to train and supervise the expansion of my corporation's civilian security guards. They weren't exorbitantly expensive, but they weren't cheap either, but the money I saved with all of the pay cuts from myself and the other board members was more than enough to double the size of my company's defense forces without cutting into other budgets.
Now that I was in charge, I was going to make sure that me and mine were kept as safe as possible, and that included my workers and research staff. No fucking fake-DEST/fake-Death Commando team was going to merc my people or wreck my shit, no sir.
My mother and father had been quite content with the Mercedes luxury limo that they used to travel around with, but me? I knew that people were going to try and kill me whenever they got the chance, so yes, I made sure to spring for the up-armored vehicles that cost me as much as a Locust Battlemech did, and I bought four of them. The other three Typhon vans were sent toward other random locations that I traveled to on occasion, and the drivers and four-man team that accompanied them got to kick back and enjoy an easy day while playing decoy; most of them I knew just fired up their noteputers and caught up on their favorite books, while other used the time to study for whatever University coursework they were doing that I started subsidizing for my permanent employees.
Sure, the program was contractually tied to a mandatory minimum of service, pursuant to how much the company was subsidizing for the particular course of study. While 'corporate hopping' wasn't nearly as rare here as it was in my last life, where people switched companies whenever possible if it meant they could climb the ladder, it was a small price to pay to ensure that I kept my best performing junior employees loyal. Spending $10,000 Pounds to fund the higher education of my employees one-time meant that I wouldn't have to spend twice as much training new ones, and waiting the years necessary for them to accrue the same level of experience to match the man or woman that left for 'greener pastures'; it also kept them invested in the company that gave them an opportunity to better themselves and earn a higher wage.
"If you smudge the glass I'm going to make you clean it," I chuckled wryly, causing Yuri to jerk slightly and turn around in his seat, a sheepish grin on his face and an easily visible flush on his pale cheeks.
Ah, sorry. I sort of forgot myself," He scratched at the back of his head with a nervous laugh, his fingers mussing up his fluffy, untamed auburn locks.
The Corean family had an interesting range for our family genetics, and it showed in all of our mother's and father's children. Whereas Andrew, our dearly departed Mechwarrior middle brother, had all of the 'manly' genetics, Yuri had gotten all of the 'pretty boy' genetics, and I was nestled comfortably in between. On the feminine side, Yeathers was disgustingly 'cute', while Julia was shaping up to be the 'beauty', and the youngest, Amelia, while a bit too early to tell, was shaping up to be the happy middle in between like myself.
The few things we all shared were the flaming red hair and crystal blue eyes of our mother and father.
"Meh, don't mention it, little brother, I don't mind, truly. I'm just teasing," I shrugged diffidently, "It's been nearly a decade since you were last here on New Avalon, and when you came in last week it was the middle of the night... and I can't say that the travel to the Upper District isn't a visually stunning sight."
Pristine white ferrocrete, lots of colored Ferroglass, and interesting geometries were combined with wide asymmetrical roads and vibrant green spaces to make the city a beautiful and unique spectacle. It was both aesthetic and incredibly functional, with plenty of ways for traffic to maneuver around the city- both by vehicle and on foot- and if you looked carefully and squinted you could see the interesting bits that made this a capital city of a capital planet in the Battletech universe. Walls that had murals on them were tall and thick, easily able to conceal and protect a Battlemech. Buildings were 'stepped' in their elevations with reinforced rooftops that were designed with jump jet-capable Battlemechs in mind, and the open spaces tapered neatly into kill zones designed to funnel attacking forces into hails of artillery and LRM fire.
The entire city had been planned with being a defensive madhouse in mind, and with the advent of Battlemechs even centuries after its founding, Avalon City had been updated and upgraded to keep up with the changing times. It was a sprawling maze filled with choke points and underground tunnels large enough to accommodate whole battalions of 'Mechs and armored vehicles- just when you thought you had made progress out of one kill zone then the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns (AFFS) would pop out of a hidden tunnel and punish your backside.
It was funny because while the AFFS hungered for 'honorable and just' combat with their foes, the men and women were ready to sally forth and engage their enemies in open combat whenever the opportunity presented itself... they really weren't above some sneaky-ass shit if they could get away with it. However, I suppose you could say that about most of the Great Houses, except the Capellan Confederation- they're 'all schiesty, all the time'.
Though for the Federated Suns it came down to how they could frame such tactics with positive optics.
"So, Yuri, I was thinking..." I mused out loud as the luxury vehicle ate up the ground toward the city.
My younger brother perked up a bit, "Yes?"
"I was thinking that during the weekends we could work on getting you a civilian certification for Industrial 'Mechs through the company-"
His eyes widened almost comically as he gawped, "What!?"
"Well, I know that you gave up your slot for the Mechwarrior Academy at NAIS so that you could help me out," I crossed my arms over my chest, "It's something you've wanted very badly- to follow in Andrew's footsteps and join the AFFS. Yet... you gave it up for me. For the family."
His surprise gave way to the sudden somber shift in the conversation, and he fiddled with his hands, "Well, after Mother and Father died... it made me do a lot of thinking. About us. About the family."
"You've always put the family first, Arthur. You focused on your education and spent your whole childhood and teenage years ensuring that when you came of age you could help Father with Corean Enterprises," Yuri's blue eyes shifted to the side as he avoided looking directly at me, "It was your focus on the family business that allowed Andrew to follow his dreams and become a Mechwarrior... and if not for the accident then it would have allowed me to follow my own dreams too."
I cringed internally.
Please, little brother, don't equate my hyper-focus on my academics over everything else- including our family- to some sort of self-sacrifice.
I really couldn't bear it if my cowardicewas misinterpreted as something noble.
He inhaled slowly, his fists clenching before they relaxed, "We're not only nobility, but we're important industrialists. Our corporation provides millions of jobs across the Federated Suns, our factories produce important components for the AFFS, and that matters a whole lot more than the dreams of one boy."
"I've done some self-introspection over these past few months and... I've realized that I need to grow up. The crash of the Corean Majesty has left our whole family reeling from the loss, and you and Big Sis Yeathers are stepping up to the plate to keep our company and realm stable," He looked at me now, and if this were an anime his blue eyes would be blazing with magical power, "I am a man now, Arthur. A man of the Corean family. It's high time I stop trying to reach out for childish dreams of Battlemechs and Glory... and do my part to help you and the family."
He gave me a sad smile as his posture slouched once more, "Maybe if Mother and Father were still alive I'd have chased my dreams for a bit longer... maybe done a few tours of duty at the Capellan or Combine border and gained some merits of my own, and then returned to do my part. However, the reality of the situation is that they're gone now, and you and Yeathers need me to help however I can."
I leaned forward a touch, the carbon ribbon attached to the back of my safety harness- never knew when you might get hit with a road-side IED, fuck'n ComStar- sensed the voluntary motion and allowed me to reach out and put a hand on my brother's knee, "That's incredibly level-headed of you, Yuri."
I righted myself before crossing my arms, a proud smile on my face, "But make no mistake, you've got a few years of schooling before you can actually help, so why don't you let your Big Brother and Big Sister do our jobs for a little while longer, hmm? There is a reason why us older siblings were born first, you know?"
"It's so that we can look after those who come after us."
"It's so that we can look after those who come after us."
Yuri rolled his eyes as he blushed a touch, "I don't know where you heard that, but Andrew would always say it too..."
"And who do you think told him that?" I smirked before shaking my head.
If I could have reached his head I would have patted it.
"Regardless, Yuri, a man only goes to University for the first time once, and just because you are going to help me out in the near future doesn't mean that you'll have to give up on the AFFS and your Mechwarrior dreams forever."
My bishounen little brother's eyes regarded me keenly, a touch of suspicion, apprehension, and curiosity lacing his voice, "What do you mean by that?"
I shrugged my shoulders while tilting my head, "Whatever could I mean?"
He then began to pout. Rather fiercely at that, and I let out a laugh that shook my gut.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I won't yank your chain. Listen, the age requirements for Mechwarriors in the AFFS aren't nearly as strict as they are for say the Infantry or Armor. You can just ask Hendricks," I jerked my thumb toward the Captain of my Corporate Personal Security Detail, one of my former AFFS Special Forces boys, who nodded, "A lot of people who come into their own personal 'Mechs get them later in life, so there are provisions in place to make exceptions to the rules for them."
A typical Knightly House in the Federated Suns only had a single Battlemech that was passed down in the family, usually to the firstborn child if they showed good aptitude and Neural Helm compatibility. Despite being a part of the AFFS or attached to a House Guard the 'Mech, while serviced by AFFS or House Techs and maintained with their parts, the 'Mech still belonged to that family. So, say, after fifteen years of honorable service the Mechwarrior dies and the 'Mech is recovered and repaired, the second son or daughter, or the third, would be obligated to take up their relative's place. Such a thing would usually come in their early to late 30s, and sometimes they would be even older than that, but ensuring that Battlemech had a pilot and remained in action was important enough that the usual age restrictions for military service were waived as long as the pilot could pass the medical examinations.
"Give me ten years, Yuri," I held up ten fingers as I uncrossed my arms, "Give Corean Enterprises ten years of service and I'll ensure that by the time you're 32 years old, you'll have a brand new 'Mech- custom made by yours truly- and a spiffing new slot at the NAIS Mechwarrior school."
His jaw dropped open while I continued.
"To further help with that, I want you to get your Industrial 'Mech certification through the company. That will not only get your feet wet and used to working such a machine, but having those years of experience will make your exemption more attractive and reasonable when the ten years is up. I might have our beloved First Prince's ear, but he is a firm man- never one to sign off on anything that doesn't pass muster," I crossed my arms once more and stared my little brother down, "So make no mistake- you're going to have to work hard and earn that certification, Yuri. No one here will kiss your ass and tell you the sky is purple. Yeathers tells me you're good in the simulator, but the simulator isn't real life."
That having him get his Industrial 'Mech certification will help the company out as much as it helped him was better left unsaid.
Trying to find a qualified Mechwarrior who was willing to 'step down' to an Industrial 'Mech was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. They did indeed exist, but few Mechwarriors, even those who were dispossessed, were happy about not sitting astride a Draft Horse when they were used to a thoroughbred War Destrier.
Industrial 'Mechs were critical for the movement of machinery and supplies at our factories, and we were always shorthanded for qualified pilots. This was mainly due to the fact that I changed my father's rules allowing unqualified employees to pilot them, and while it meant that half of my Industrial fleet now sat untouched in the yard... the number of accidents costing millions of Pounds dropped down to near zero.
No more droppings of shipping containers onto critical components, no more smacking fragile apparatuses against the walls, no more gouging of support structures because the pilot misjudged the spacing and missed the guide rails.
It was great.
The loss in productivity certainly hurt, but the efficiency gains from having only qualified pilots and the lack of damages made us run in the black despite the shift.
To make up for this I implemented two programs:
The first was a requirement for all Mechwarriors in the Corean Self-Defense units to rotate in and out of the cockpits of Industrial 'Mechs. The new contracts required 8 hours of stick time per day for 60 days of service in a 365-day period. Of course, the primadonnas weren't happy about it, but given that they did little more than drill and visit the AFFS' firing ranges to shoot their autocannons and missiles while spending my money, they could deal because they got all of the Active Mechwarrior pay for none of the danger.
The second program was an Apprenticeship program for the training of new Industrial 'Mech pilots, and we drew from the pool of current employees who were nearing the end of their Service Contracts and had Neural Helm compatibility. Most of those employees would re-up their contracts because they either enjoyed their work or were content, but some would seek out employment elsewhere, and the loss of their experience was always a painful affair. So we started doing quarterly employee surveys with innocuous questions that gauged their happiness and satisfaction over a whole host of topics, from Job Safety to Pay, Benefits, and the like.
Those who were the most likely to leave the company at the end of their terms were offered the opportunity to attend a two-year Industrial 'Mech course run by either NAIS or NAU in conjunction with Corean Enterprises in exchange for a ten-year extension to their current contract. To date, we've made this offer to seventeen outstanding low-born employees who were thinking of moving to another company, and we've had seventeen successful retentions! In a year and a half to two years I'd be able to reactivate seventeen of our Powermans, Scavengers, and Loader Kings and put them back into service with qualified pilots who would hopefully be more inclined to stay once their new term was up.
Yuri would be taking an extended weekend course that would last his whole four years of University, but during that time he'd apprentice during the week and could, with supervision, fill one of those cockpits.
Then once he was out of University with his shiny new Industrial 'Mech certification he could hop in and out of the cockpit as needed. My hope was that he'd take a break from the office work on occasion to fill in when it was crunch time in the factories.
The fact that having an Industrial 'Mech certification and many years of experience working for Corean as a pilot would also make his acceptance into the AFFS more attractive even if he would, by then, be older than most of the usual pilots.
It would help him and it would help me. A win-win situation.
Yuri grinned, the teen's legs starting to bounce before he clapped, "Alright! I'll do it! I can do it!"
"You'll have to keep your grades up high, however," I looked at him intently, "I'm not expecting you to rank number one in your class, but if you want me to attend the weekend classes then I'm expecting you maintain Straight A's across the board, and just as Father said to me... if you drop into the B's then that class you dropped in? Yeah, the cost for that course is going to be deducted from your allowance."
He grimaced at the thought of losing his play money, but given he was getting an Industrialist's and a Noble's 'allowance' his payout each month was in the tens of thousands of Pounds. An extremely healthy sum of money to be sure, but given the high costs of living in the Upper Districts of Avalon City and the social obligations he'd be forced to attend with his peers in the noble and industrial scene... almost every Pence was needed.
I snapped my fingers, "Time management will become your most important asset, so I hope you've practiced that well. The I.M. weekend classes start at 0900 hours sharp and run until 1700 hours in the evening, so that means you need to be out of the door by 0730 and on your way back to Corean. Don't worry about transportation, a Typhon will be there to pick you up. However, do be mindful that your Security Detail isn't your maids; they will remind you if it is particularly important, but they aren't going to clean up after you or drag you about by the hand."
"Brother..." He looked affronted by the mere insinuation that he'd be irresponsible, but he was a teenager, a wealthy one at that.
Being irresponsible was in his job description.
I shook my head as I continued, "However, despite that tight schedule... if you plan your days out properly then there should be plenty of time for you to study, get your homework done, and maybe even go out and have some fun? Go on a pub crawl, responsibly, or take a fine dame out on a date, responsibly, or go to a rock show, responsibly."
"You said 'responsibly' three times!" He groused, the redheaded teen throwing his hands up.
"And it is worth repeating three times!" I chortled, "I didn't have to be responsible when I was your age because I was allergic to the common use of the word 'fun' and any of its synonyms. My fun was churning through my coursework as fast as possible so I could come back and pester the other eggheads into letting me help with their research, or bothering the 'Mech techs into letting me service the Industrial 'Mechs to further my education on 'Mech Engineering."
"Yeathers and Andrew did mention that you were a bit of a wet blanket," He bobbed his head from side to side as he muttered.
"Yup! The Holy Trinity of Booze, Boobs, and Booties? Not something I ever felt was worth bothering with, little brother," I tossed my head back and laughed lightly, a broad smile on my face, "The only warm caress I needed when I was your age was the static of a PPC on a test stand or the pleasing hum of a fusion engine going through its break-in phase at the factory."
"Truly, you were the best young noble an aide like myself could have ever asked for," Amanda Yu, one of my two personal aides- and the woman who was my maid during my schooling years- nodded with a pleasant smile on her face.
Mister Corean, we have arrived at the Simon Davion Memorial Plaza," My driver's voice spoke out over the intercom, the polarized Ferroglass window separating the two cabins becoming clear as he looked at us in the back, "I will be parking at the 22nd Street lot, and will await your call."
"Excellent, thank you Jordan," I nodded to Hendricks, "Let's do some shopping now, shall we?"
Just as Yeathers asked, we would spruce up my old apartment to make it more livable for someone who wasn'tme.
Of the twelve men in my personal security detail, eight of them wore plain clothes. Nicely tailored suits in the common New Avalon style with body armor underneath, sidearms, and compact submachine guns hidden underneath their coats. The other four wore full tactical gear that I had designed for them, with battle rifles, webbing, helmets, and armor plating; the lot on 22nd street was close enough that if shots were fired they could come running to extract us.
I was thankful that Hendricks was receptive to my paranoia, at least once I pointed out how ludicrously low the chances of a hydrogen seal blowing on what was essentially a factory-new Leopard was.
Federated-Boeing of Galax, like all Dropship manufacturers, had the strictest of quality control standards, and the crews my family employed were no less thorough. You sort of hadto be on top of your shit when your product was all about hurtling through space at extreme speeds and re-entering the atmosphere over and over again for centuries of operation. The hydrogen seals were checked, double-checked, and triple-checked because they were such a critical component- the only way they could have failed was if they had been faulty from the beginning... and after having some of our corporate counter-espionage folks and my MIIO attaches do some backtracking on the seals my employees had purchased for replacement?
Well, the distributor where the seals had originated went under years ago defaulted on their debts to ComStar, and their facilities were confiscated.
Hardly a smoking gun, as the ComStar reps cooperating with the Post-Crash Investigation had reported that the seals were 'factory new' and still in their packaging when they had been shipped, but it was enough for my Head of Security to take my warnings about the toaster worshippers seriously.
He was currently working with our H.R. department to sniff out any employee who had been affiliated with ComStar previously and the two of them put their heads together to come up with legally sound ways of not having to re-up their service contracts once they expired. Flaws with work ethic, rules violations, safety infractions, and others were to be systematically applied to anyone who might be a ComStar plant and we would gradually purge them over time while leaving a few possible plants in unimportant positions so they wouldn't get antsy and think we were doing it on purpose.
I was also working personally with our I.T. and InfoSec departments to reorganize and recode our information and data management systems to ensure that we didn't have any non-approved back doors- MIIO had theirs that we allowed because I trusted Hanse Davion and Quintus Allard to not abuse them... but already a few seemingly innocuous leaks had been plugged. Upgrading to the latest MIIO-approved hardware had done quite a lot for our info-sec, even if it cost me over $100 Million Pounds and six months' worth of headaches to make the move.
While Battletech's vacuum-tube-based computing was certainly heartier than the silicon chipsets of my past life, I will just have to say that upgrading existing infrastructure was a lot easier when you could just swap server racks.
"What do you think?" Yuri patted the all-black bedspread that was on display in the luxury mattress store.
It was a rather ordinary queen-sized bed with a modest- for our standards- six-piece bedroom set; two dressers, an armoire, two nightstands, and a chest that sat at the foot of the bed made it up. For a college student, even a noble, it was certainly functional, and with the walk-in closet, he would have plenty of space.
The apartment currently had my furniture, and what was in the Master bedroom was a simple twin bed, a high-quality one to be sure, a single nightstand, and a four-drawer dresser. Having spent my younger years there I never needed to entertain company, preferring to go to my fellow student's cribs for group projects and the like, and as for the single twin mattress? Well, I was young and on my grind, so thinking about needing extra space to romp around on was unthinkable... mainly because even at my oldest I was 19 years old and everyone else was in their mid-to-late twenties and either already married or engaged.
"You should skip the Queen and go straight for the King-sized bed. The Master Bedroom has plenty of space, and besides," I shrugged my shoulders before pointing to a different bedroom set further down the line, "I'd heard that sleeping in a bed with another person can get rather hot at times, so having the option to put some space between you and another body might be worth thinking about."
"What?" He spluttered a touch, his cheeks coloring as he looked around to see if anyone had been close enough to overhear, "Must you? First Yeathers and now you too? And-! And aren't you supposed to discourage me from making 'youthful mistakes'?"
"Condoms have come a long way since they were first introduced, so you're only making 'youthful mistakes' when you don't use them," I pinched his cheek lightly as I wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him into my side, "Besides, I want you to do what I couldn't do and live a little. Have some fun. Drink a few beers and bring a girl home. Just because I was a wet blanket with no sex drive doesn't mean you have to be. Don't think I haven't seen you ogling every beautiful lady that's crossed our path today."
"You were looking too," He huffed but didn't pull away, "And Yeathers gave me a mission of my own- said she wanted me to make sure you at least started looking for a wife."
"I am looking for a wife, but to be frank I'm waiting for the right person to come along, so when I find her I'll be sure to take her on all sorts of wonderous dates." I deflected easily with a small smile on my face.
Hanse Davion, get rescued already so you can find me a super sexy spy wife to guard my life... if you would be so kind.
"But, we're not talking about me, the sexless virgin! We're talking about you, the young man whose- according to my sources- already made it to second base!" I began dragging him over to the larger bedroom set that had elegant advertising cut-outs denoting it as a 'Davion King'-sized bed, "Why, with something like this you can have three beauties sharing your bed and never want for elbow room once the fun is over!"
A pair of middle-aged ladies in cottony sundresses tittered behind their hands as they passed us by, and Yuri groaned as he hid his face in his hands, "God above, why must you be like this?"
"Why? Because it's fun and you're being very cute; even the ladies think so," I squeezed his shoulder as I sent the two women a teasing, over-the-top wink, "More to the point, if you remember this embarrassment every time to try to talk to a girl maybe I won't ever have to worry about you making 'youthful mistakes'."
The glare he sent me from between his fingers was what one might generously call 'challenging'.
I looked around the 'cozy' three-bedroom apartment with no small sense of nostalgia, a smile on my face as I ran a hand over the marble island in the kitchen.
"I'd spent many nights sitting on a bar stool at this very island," I mused to myself out loud.
"With books of all sorts scattered about it and a half-eaten sandwich on a plate," Piped Amanda from the side, and I regarded her with a small smile.
"For everything that was taken out of this place, I for one am glad that he decided to keep this one small piece of my history," I patted the smooth black surface with my hand as I looked around the rest of the dining and living area from my vantage point.
The entirety of the interior had been stripped clean of all of my cheap Ikea furniture while we were out and about, the walls repainted from the warm burgundy that I had to an off-cream color, and the carpets replaced with something a bit more luxurious. I never saw the need to have soft carpets since I always wore house slippers- it was in my view that the only time feet should be bare was in bed, in the shower, or the bedroom during sex. The rest of the time?
At least wear some socks.
The two-person security team stayed at the apartment while we shopped to let in the day laborers who delivered the purchased goods, after inspecting them, of course, and because of that, by the time we arrived from our trip, the entire apartment was furnished and ready to be lived in. David Johnson and Sarah Wang were the two Level III security team members that would be responsible for ensuring my brother's safety, while Alex Wimble and Judith Fern were the butler/driver and maid who would see that the place was kept clean and orderly. The two ladies shared one room, while the two men shared the other; it might sound cramped, but you have to remember this was a 'small' apartment for the nobility who attended NAU; it was practically a tiny palace unto itself.
The security office, which was stuffed into a closet, had a feed patched into it that allowed every terminal in the apartment to look at the cameras everywhere in the building, and more than a few that my security installed personally and hardwired into the system; if someone thought cutting the feeds to the building would blind my staff then they would have another thing coming. Next to the security 'office' was the arms room that held no small amount of armor and ordnance; working in the Defense Industry and hand-in-hand with MIIO had no shortage of perks, so big guns and lots of grenades were in plentiful supply. The building was designed with city fighting in mind as well, so there was no shortage of well-hidden escape routes for defenders to flee and plenty of chokepoints where a few people could hold off a much larger attacking force.
The only ill feeling I had was that the Security Team for my little brother was too small with only two people, but no amount of money could convince anyone else in my detail to bother with guarding a teenage college student. This was odd because you'd think that having oodles of cash pushed in front of their noses would make it worth their while, but... Feddies gonna Feddie I suppose. My personal guard detail liked the prestige, pay, and the dangerof protecting me- one of the brightest minds in the Inner Sphere and certainly the smartest that has ever graced the Federated Suns. There was a certain amount of honor and clout that came with being a bodyguard for an HVT, a valuable currency that the professionals liked to bandy about whenever they attended their secretive yearly conferences (or whatever they do), and while my brother was valuable to me, he and I weren't in the same bracket of importance.
Hanse Davion certainly wouldn't find my brother a sexy super spy wife if asked, that's for sure.
I sighed.
Poor Yuri will just have to marry for love instead of politics, the poor bastard.
For his part, Yuri was grinning like a kid on Christmas morning as he waffled about the apartment, putting up nicknacks on the shelves, framed photographs of the family on every available surface, and trying to get the painting of our family's estate on Augusta perfectly level.
When he'd finished he flopped onto the couch in exhaustion, but there was an undeniably happy smile on his face as he surveyed his personal fief like a king... while likely suppressing the fact that he was sharing it with four other people.
"The Summer term starts in a few weeks," I spoke out, drawing his attention, "It runs from May through July, and I took the liberty of signing you up for some classes."
"So soon?" I asked quizzically, though it was readily apparent the teen was feeling a bit heartbroken because I had promised to spend a lot more time with him before the first term in August started.
I held up a hand, "I know, I know. Settle down, alright? Trust your big brother on this. Public Speaking, Accounting 101, Home Economics, Fed Lit 101, and Intro to Inner Sphere History 101 are the classes I signed you up for. I wanted you to get those out of the way now because... well... they're not exactly the sorts of classes that require a whole semester to take. They fit the same curriculum into three months that normally would take five, and with those classes out of the way that will free up your first semester for more electives and let you start working that business track you want."
My slippers scratched over the tile floor of the kitchen before fading away once I reached the carpet, and I let out a blissful sigh once my ass was firmly planted in the leather couch across the coffee table from my younger brother, "This... I should get one of these for my office."
Yeah, I should get one for the main office in the basement- the one where I do the majority of my work.
His expression morphed from disappointment to slight amusement, which made me glad, "The second reason is because I happen to know those professors, and they're a lot more lax during the Summer session than they are in the Winter or Spring semesters. Fun fact you might know about your brother, but there were two classes that I almost didn't make an 'A' in."
He snorted a bit and threw up an arm over the back of the couch, "You? I don't believe you."
"Yup, it's true," I gave him a sideways smile as I slouched, "Miss Lachland is a Professor in the NAU Literature department, and she teaches not only Fed Lit 101 and 102, but she also teaches the hell known as Public Speaking."
"Tsk," I clicked my tongue as memories surfaced that almost traumatized the 9-year-old me so many moons ago, "Old bitch didn't care that I needed a step-stool to see over the podium that we were supposed to speak at, nor did she care that I always presented my data from my speeches accurately... noooo~... the old cunt just docked me ten-points on my speeches if I ran over or under the allotted time, and continued to dock me five points for 'Presentation' until I started bringing my own damn step-stool to class on Speech Days."
"Hahahaha, n-no way," Yuri's blue eyes crinkled as he held a hand up in front of his mouth, "She docked you points because you were too short to be visible over the podium?"
"'Presentation is important, young man. If you're giving a speech then you must be visible to the populace at all times! Do you think Ian Davion, who was known to be a rather short First Prince, didn't have a stool with him whenever he gave a speech in front of the cameras?'" I pitched my voice high and made it all wispy to better mock the old bitch's sleepy voice.
My little brother's laughter subsided a bit as he shook his head, "And what was the other class?"
"Fed Suns Lit 101, taught by the same bitch. As to that particular story, she didn't take too kindly to my book reports about J. Castor's 'riveting novel' 'Where the JumpShips Sail', or Artus Stollen's biography of 'Vince Davion: A True Prince of the Federated Suns'," I shook my head, "The first story romanticizes the grooming of a young Jumpship spacer by a Noble Lady to be her personal side-piece, which I didn't want any part of, and the second heavily romanticized the life of Vince Davion the First, whose most notable feat was being the son of Alexander Simon Lucien Davion and dying in a jumpship accident."
Feeling once-thought-forgotten anger bubble up in my chest I took a deep breath, and held it for a ten count before releasing it, "The man was a know-nothing, do-nothing, good-for-nothing whose greatest accomplishment was flipping his GM Trembler tank and rolling it into a ditch while he was in Academy training. When he wasn't destroying military hardware doing stupid shit, he was out sleeping with everything that walked on two legs- man or woman, he didn't discriminate- while his wife waited for him at home cold and alone. The guy was a piece of shit but for somereason, Miss Lachland was just so enamored with the guy... God, she was aggravating. Told me I'd fail the paper if I didn't at least find something positive to say about the prick- it didn't even make any sense because the guy died before he was ever even made the First Prince!"
My rambling must have caught Yuri off guard because he sort of gaped at me, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish before he slowly ran a hand through his messy red hair, "Geeze... tell me how you really feel, why don't you?"
I shook my head before rolling my eyes, and I turned sideways and threw my legs over the arm of the couch, "Well, Yuri, if there was one thing I took seriously in my life, it was my academic performance."
"Yes, I know that all too well, Mister 'Graduate Tertiary School at the Tender Age of Nine and then Go to University Right After'," He returned my eye-roll with an eye-roll salvo of his own, yet there was still a glimmer of curiosity within his blue orbs as he looked at me, "So what did you do? Did you rewrite it to her exacting specification?"
"God no!" I laughed and thrust a finger at him, "I have integrity, little brother! I marched my happy ass straight to the Dean's office and gave him a piece of my mind! Told him that if there was objectively any 'good thing' that anyone could find about Vince Davion then I'd be happy to write about it, but since all of the legitimate literature that I could find on him had nothing but ill things to report about him and his proclivities my paper stood on its own merits. The book was a puff piece commissioned by Ian Davion, his son, to try and rewrite the history books to make his father not seem like a total slob of a man, and to this day no one has ever been able to corroborate any of the claims the book made- if anything the exact opposite is true."
Yuri looked like he was trying to hold back his laughter and incredulity, "And then?"
"And then?" I grinned, "I told the Dean we'd settle it with a competition. Myself and Miss Lachland would both write a paper no shorter than fifty pages and no longer than one hundred, to be held to the NAU's Doctoral-level quality standards, including full NAPA citations, and our papers would be presented to the Department of Lit's faculty blind- Writer A, me, and Writer B, her. The paper that would be chosen would determine who the winner was- if I won then my paper would stand as is and would be graded by the Dean on its merits, and if her's won, then I would re-write it based on the initial prompt and keep my personal analysis out of it."
The younger teen sat up in his chair, his eyebrows raised, "And I take it you won?"
"Fuck no!" I cursed vehemently as I swiped my arm through the air, "Academia is a cancer unto itself- the pricks protect each other! I can't proveit, but that bitch told her fellows what was happening I'm sure of it! She won, five-to-four, but the Dean, God bless his weary soul, still gave me an 'A' for my paper and effort, and then washed his hands of it."
"Hopefully it's been long enough for the old biddy to have Alzheimer's so she should forget all about the 'Corean' name when you show up to her class," I pouted as I crossed my arms over my chest, stewing in my own anger and grief, "If not then the shorter Summer class, with its abbreviated reading list, will not have that stupid-ass book on the docket, so you should be able to get an 'A' just fine with the rest of the drivel she'll want you to read."
My teen brother narrowed his eyes at me, "And if she does remember and decides to take her anger out on me? There are a lot of privileges you're giving me that are riding on me making Straight A's..."
"Then I'll read your papers myself, grade 'em myself, and if they're up to my standards then even if she decides to fuck you I'll give you a pass, but only her classes," I pointed at him with a small smirk on my lips, "I was in good with everyone else, so don't think that what will work for her will work for them."
"Fiiiinnneee~," He groused.
I got up off of the couch and walked around the coffee table, enfolding him in a big hug when he got up to meet me halfway, "Listen, I know it sucks, but getting the bullshit out of the way now will make University a lot more fun. Summer Classes every year in the first two years will knock out all of your Gen Ed. courses, and free up a lot more space for electives. Who knows, maybe you might have enough room for Battlemech 101 and 102 your senior year? Those were a damn hoot."
"Yeah, those do sound like fun," He murmured into my shoulder, "Though I wish we could have spent a bit more time together this summer..."
I pulled away from the hug and placed my hands on his shoulders, making sure to make direct eye contact, which was important in public speaking to let the listener know that the speaker was fully engaged (thank you, you old bitch), "That? Don't worry about it, Yuri. You would have just been hanging out at the offices most of the day anyway, or getting into trouble. Besides, the Summer classes end at 1500, so you'll be in a Typhon heading over to Corean by 1630 at the latest, and that's when you'll get to hang around in the labs with me."
I gave him a rakish grin as I squeezed him, "I've got so much cool shit to show you... but you'll have to sign some NDAs first. A lot of NDAs."
Yuri blinked, "Uh... paperwork? Isn't it a bit too soon for me to do any of that? I haven't even started business school yet."
Sorry, little brother, but you're not dodging this. Accept the pain. Embrace it. Only then will cool stuff be yours to see.
Wait. Since I'm the one sponsoring him and also the CEO of the Company that has to approve them... shit.
I'm going to have to do the paperwork too.
"So many fucking NDAs."
[Arthur Corean - Age 28]
[Corean Enterprises Headquarters - Head Science Officer's Personal Lab Complex]
[Avalon City, New Avalon; Federated Suns]
[December 10th, 3025]
When you live in the Battletech universe, one of the many things you're going to have to get used to is that massive underground structures are very much a thing.
Most like to attribute the love affair humanity had with large, subterranean construction to the advent of the Castle Brian concept, pioneered by then Director-General of the Terran Hegemony Brian Cameron, the concept of building shit underground went as far back as the early days of space exploration. If a drop shuttle could carry a digger from orbit to the surface, delivered by ye old Jumpships, then a digger was carried so that it could burrow beneath the surface of planets with hostile surface environments and colonization could begin. Brian Cameron just took what was already a proven concept and made it bigger, likely in honor of Texas.
Or some shit like that. The lore of Battletech was strange at times.
Regardless, even after having lived almost 30 years of my new life in this strange, wild, and hellish new universe, nothing ever quite prepared me for big, honk'n underground structures.
Like my own, personal laboratory.
Or, well, the one afforded to the Chief Science Officer of Corean Enterprises.
It also came with a nice fat budget for my own research, but that was afforded to practically every CSO that Corean has ever hired- I just so happened to pick it up once I finished my final Doctorate and the previous guy, Dr. Leonard Mint, retired a few months before my parents perished.
From the office to my personal kingdom I placed my hands on my hips, a smile on my face.
I had a whole football field's worth of space to put my stuff, a tight staff to work for me while I was away doing other things, and my lab coat was eye-searingly white and extra spiffy. What more could I ask for?
"Arthurrr~!" An amused, purring voice called out to me, and I spun around to see the handsome visage of a man that had been conspicuously absent for quite a few months, "You son of a bitch!"
I blinked, observing his posture and expressions, before crossing the distance and raising my arm to clasp his hand within my own, a loud 'clap' echoing throughout the office.
A grin tugged at my lips as our arms strained against one another; my arm was fairly strong but still weak since I was a scientist, but Hanse's arm quivered because he'd been rolled up in captivity for almost a year and drugged up to the gills the whole time. Deciding to steal the march on our 80s-era reunion, I applied a bit more force, "What? MIIO had you pushing too many pencils?"
His lips twitched, eyebrows furrowing as we both strained against each other, but he remained silent for a few moments as he tried to continue off the cuff, "You should make it easy on yourself..."
"Well, I never did know when to quit..." I grunted in response before 'throwing' the contest of strength and eased up, "Okay, okay..."
We both nodded at each other as our hands unclasped, and while Hanse poor hid his exertion, a few breaths coming out in heavy pants, my facade remained unbroken.
"It's good to have you back, Hanse," I gave Ardan the Asskisser a smirk as I wiped at a bead of sweat on my brow with my thumb, "And thank you for coming."
The resident dogsbody and Prince's Champion scowled at me, and Hanse looked between us with a bemused expression on his face, "Come now, Arthur, must you rile poor Ardan up all of the time? It's been more than a year since you last saw each other, would it kill either of you to at least be cordial?"
"When the man learns to show the barest amount of decency and respect, I will relax, my Prince," The Major's frown intensified.
"And I'd make a joke about 'sticks up asses' but I think I've worn that rug out a long time ago," I shrugged, "But we're not here for him, we're here for me."
"By God," Hanse clapped his hands together, a broad grin on his face, "Dare I say I missed your particular brand of sass, Arthur. My captives were a rather droll bunch."
"My Prince-!" Ardan the Boot Eater hissed, his eyes widening in shock.
"Relax, Ardan, truly," Hanse shook his head, "All it took was a single meeting for Arthur to suss out that I had been taken captive, and I'd bet good money that he's already likely figured it all out anyway. We can let the public have the sanitized story if I ever decide to release it, but the least we can do is let him hear the whole story- it was his letter that convinced Melissa Steiner to let you run about after all."
My smirk deepened as Ardan seethed in his impotence, and Hanse waved a hand, "Alright, Detective Corean. What do you think?"
I blinked at the sudden shift in tone but I rolled with it, crossing my arms over my chest as I leaned against the glass window, and to much to my enjoyment Hanse parked his ass onto my desk; something rather un-Princely, but when I wasn't trying to chase him out of my lab I did want him to have a place to lighten the hell up and unwind.
"Well, other than my details in the letter... I initially thought that you were busy doing some clandestine Stately work and had someone from MIIO take up your face a time to let you do what you needed to do. However, the more I sat with the fake Hanse the more I realized that A.) MIIO wouldn't have let him 'play' the role with how terrible his acting was, and B.) He... well, he let some things go through rather easily that I had expected to fight tooth and nail for. That and he listened to the whispered words of the courtiers around him far too often to be you, Hanse." I let my eyes rise up to the ceiling, "You take in information, parse it for yourself, and then make a decision- I don't think I've ever seen or heard of you just 'doing what you were told'. So naturally I felt some alarm about how your body double was handling business and decided to send a message to dear Ardan here so that he could see the matter handled most judiciously."
I bobbed my head as I looked at the red-faced officer, "If there is something Ardan dear wouldn't settle for it's anyone taking actions that would tarnish the name of his precious prince."
Hanse raised a hand, his expression a touch harder than I would have expected, and that hard expression was directed at me, "You didn't think to contact MIIO and raise to them your suspicions?"
I narrowed my eyes in return, "And who would I talk to, Hanse? The Director of MIIO, Quintus Allard? Realistically speaking, if there was anyone who would have approved your body double, it would have been him. Raising my concerns would have been barking up the wrong tree because if he felt satisfied with a potential body double's performance- and there wereMIIO agents in the room during our meeting of that I am certain, then what would my complaints have done? Other than me figuring out that you had a body double, of course, which realistically he of all people would know about."
I sniffed and shook my head, "No. Instead, I decided to handle this 'behind closed doors' so to speak by sending that letter to Ardan, trusting that he could handle business with you and the Director without anyone having their feelings hurt. I work with MIIO every day, and I'd hate to have someone decide to punish me for figuring out their poorly constructed ploy. MIIO isn't above petty games, Hanse, you know this."
That made him wince, the man bearing his teeth.
That I called it a 'poorly constructed ploy' while hammering over the fact that Quintus Allard himself had spent months in the company of Nisei-Hanse and yet never figured out the man was a fraud was the icing on the cake.
Yeah, you can try to suspect me if you'd like, so come at me. I can do this all day.
Besides, I have MIIO practically sitting in my lap- they have access to my every phone call, email, and business meeting. Rather hard to plot when everything you do is in open view of some of the most trusted Internal Security folks in the business; only SAFE from the Free Worlds League is better at handling internal matters... but they were a much meme'd upon joke in every other category.
So walking up and poking Quintus Allard in his nose and telling him how stupid his Double-Hanse ploy was turning out would have been a rather bold move Cotton, and I wasn't keen on seeing how that worked out. If Quintus himself didn't get pissy with me, then someone else in the department would have, and what MIIO Agents and Directors considered 'petty revenge' I considered 'company destroying'.
Why does no one talk about High Flyte Aerospace anymore?
Because no one wants to be the next High Flyte Aerospace.
What MIIO did to them on the down-low while practically advertising it to the rest of the industry was both a horror show and a thing of beauty at the same time.
"So considering how hissy Ardan is about the whole deal, and the fact that I haven't heard about the events being blasted across the Sphere by ComStar News I take it that what happened is more... hush hush then?" I pushed off the wall and began to pace a bit, as I was wont to do when I was 'thinking'; I told everyone it helped me order my thoughts, but it just gave me something to do and made other people think that I truly was a 'genius' with a rather notable personal tick... it just so happened that I faked it for so long now that it's actually become a reflex by this point, "I would be correct in assuming that by your... deteriorate personal condition and the previous comments that you were taken captive and held against your will?"
Hanse sucked on his teeth as he nodded in ascent.
"Then that means that the double's public absences coincided with his two retreats to the Summer Palace on Argyle? And before you ask, Ardan, I read the news, when I have the time," I rolled my eyes as the glorified gopher opened his mouth indignantly, "The First Prince can hardly visit a tea house in Avalon City without it being shouted from the rooftops, and the First Prince returning to his Summer Palace for a vacation? Loads of pictures, Ardan. The same with you, actually. Does the headline 'Prince's Champion Heroically Recovered from Stein's Folly! Taken to Tharkad for some Well Deserved Rest!'ring any bells? That was from the New Avalon Star. So yes, I knew where you were going and that's how I knew to send my letter to you."
The First Prince's lips trembled a little bit, which he hid with his hand, "Well, what you don't know is that I was indeed captured. Drugged and made pliable to ferret out my secrets so that the fake could be fed the information he needed to maintain his ruse. However, Ardan and his compatriots staged a daring rescue, arriving in the nick of time to help me avert what would have been an international disaster. And for that, I will be forever grateful... if I could name him my Champion once more I would for that alone."
I took no pleasure in seeing the beautifully handsome Sortek's face contort into something so disgustingly lovely at the genuine and heartfelt praise from the Prince.
"Well, now that my curiosity has been sated, why don't we move on to why we're actually here," Hanse slipped off of my desk and straightened up his back.
"Yes, I do have some excellent things to show you-"
"Yes, I am here for the neat little toys," Hanse nodded though his voice was a touch terse, "But I also want to know what you were thinking selling the FWL branches of Corean Enterprises. The sale caused the share price to drop quite a bit, and while my... double had been more than happy to tell them meaningless platitudes about it being for the 'Good' of the Federated Suns, I have my own questions."
"Well, I'll circle back to the beginning of this discussion: Firstly, I want to establish a baseline, and tell me if I'm sounding unreasonable. While I sussed out the double, I had no reason to believe that there was anything nefarious afoot, yes?" I held up a hand, and when Hanse nodded, following my logic, I continued, "And while I felt that your double was incredibly incompetent, I had no reason to believe that he wasn't acting in good faith. Fake Hanse approved the sale after hearing my reasoning, as did MIIO know and approve, and of course the Military Procurement Board? They knew and also approved. Every check and balance in the government, from the top down, knew and approved. So there is that."
"Secondly, the branch made money, which made our share prices look good, that I will not deny, but it was useless money. Money that I cannot spend to better my company here in the Federated Suns is useless to me. I think I made my thoughts clear on the matter with my many, many rants over the years of which you were both unwilling participants," The First Prince smiled wanly as Ardan Sortek's eyes grew a little glassy, likely from remembering the fiery brilliance of my hatred for a branch that tried to snipe researchers and company resources from the Main branch while offering little in return, "I am a son of the Federated Suns, and an ardent supporter of Hanse and his endeavors, of which are military excellence and economic stability and growth. Half of the millions of people we employed? We employed them in the Free Worlds League, and that was time, money, and effort spent to train those employees to construct products that were ultimately paid for by the taxpayers of the Federated Suns. So not only was there a moral and ethical imperative to put our people above theirs... there is also the issue of taxes."
"We were getting murdered on taxes by being an international corporation, and the FWL and the Federated Suns took their strips out of my backside every single quarter to the tune of billions," I leveled my gaze at Hanse, "Now I managed to extract a promise of a 10% flat tax on profits from the body double, as well as enrollment in the Defense Industry Enhancement initiative you rolled out well before your... disappearance."
I blinked a few times before working my jaw, "I would completely understand if you wished to renegotiate those terms, given that they are legally void because of the fake... however I made the decision to sell based on the savings and investments projected."
"That there is the rub," Hanse's hand came up and brushed along his jaw, his eyes tight, "There were a lot of agreements that the... doppelganger... made with lots of people, and while most of them I've been able to walk back because they weren't put to paper- mainly verbal agreements- your situation was notarized and immortalized within the bureaucracy. So that makes it much more difficult to try and renegotiate at this stage. Not that I wouldn't have given Corean some breaks for becoming a fully-fledged Federated Suns corporation but... let's be honest, 10% flat on profits? That's exceptionally generous. I could have swung 15% on revenue..."
Ardan's face scrunched up as though he'd bitten into a lemon, "And if we didvoid the contract you signed based on legalities then we'd have to admit that the Prince was taken in the first place, which would-"
"-Be a black eye that the Federated Suns could not afford at this juncture," Hanse finished up for him quickly, an apologetic smile on his face, "However, thankfully you included a clause so that the tax breaks did have a Sunset period on them, so... for the next twenty years enjoy your 10% flat tax! After that, however, they're going to go up to something that wouldn't have the other corporations banging down my doors. We can discuss the finer details at a later date, but what I wanted to get across is that the tax breaks and Corean's enrollment in the infrastructure programs will remain in place."
"Alright, excellent. More than excellent, even," I suppressed a burp, sort of gross really but things just happen sometimes, and let out a sigh of relief, "Well, like I said, I would have understood the situation, and it wasn't like I didn't have fall-back options if it didn't pan out, but I'm glad to hear that Hanse Davion is such a generous soul that he'd even honor the agreements of a man who kidnapped him, pumped him for information, and impersonated him."
The First Prince busted out into laughter, the man folding over with his hands resting on his knees, "Hahahahahaha! Goodness! Have that written as the epitaph on my headstone, Ardan- 'Hanse Davion, a most generous soul indeed'!"
The Prince's Champion looked as though he didn't know what to do, but after a few more moments of unrestrained emotion the man straightened up, wiping away a tear from his eye as his smile dimmed, "Sorry you had to see that, Arthur, but it's just... with everything that's happened, I really needed a good laugh. The irony of it all is just now catching up to me, it seems."
"While I can't claim to know exactly the indignities you suffered, Hanse... just know that you don't need to worry about a thing, not when it comes to small stuff such as this," I crossed my arms over my chest and shrugged, "If you want to tell me about it down the road you can. I am not the most empathetic person, but I'm hardly an unfeeling stump; we can toss back a few drinks sometime and bitch out loud to no one in particular if that helps you feel any better."
The First Prince inhaled sharply, the man seemingly discarding the idea out of hand before he paused visibly, his expression changing as he mulled the idea over, "I suppose that... maybe I'll pencil in a date for us to do just that."
"There is therapy, you know?" I replied with a slight Taurian drawl, my eyebrow arched and my voice unimpressed, "The Federated Suns has an extensive mental health program that you funded when you became the Prince. Maybe you should think about using it yourself? It certainly couldn't hurt, in any case."
His lips quirked up as he rested his fists on his hips, "I'll take it under advisement, but for now? I want to see some of the toys that you've been hyping up."
I inhaled deeply as I unfolded my arms and furiously rubbed my hands together, "Alright then, my Prince. Prepare to have your socks knocked off!"