Or so he thought then.

“Has Prefect Tao sent new word regarding the problems on Menkar or on Wei?” These two worlds were the hardest hit with pro-Capellan demonstrations and borderline uprisings.

Governor Lu Pohl nodded. “He has. And a number of other worlds, besides. Lord Governor Hidic did not deign to transfer the holographic message to us, though I expect him to bring it so that we may all watch in his presence. But we have the gist. Gerald?”

Tsung passed over his noteputer. “I expect you will get more detailed intelligence than we normally see. The Governor appreciates being kept completely informed.”

“Of course,” Ruskoff promised.

Unless Tao ordered him to withhold data from the Governor, he was obligated to report at her desired level of detail. The military generally worried about things other than a turf war being fought between planetary and prefecture leaders… especially when it came to real war.

“Is this confirmed?” he asked.

“We see no reason not to assume so,” Gerald Tsung said evenly. He stepped smoothly into the conversation as Governor Lu Pohl rose and glided gracefully to a sideboard to pour herself a glass of plum wine. “We expect general dissatisfaction to rise by thirty percent once the news breaks. Increases in vandalism, protests, and labor strikes.”

Anna Lu Pohl returned to her chair and the conversation carrying her small aperitif of rich, dark liquid. “Ijori Dè Guāng activity will likely double in the short term, trying to capitalize on events.”

Damned if they wouldn’t, Ruskoff knew. “With your approval, I can increase the military presence around Chang-an and our larger cities. Soldiers on the streets might discourage civil unrest as well.”

“They might also engender a great deal more resentment among the pro-Capellan population,” Tsung warned.

Governor Lu Pohl considered the arguments, then gave her Planetary Legate a simple nod.

Ruskoff rose, noteputer still in hand. He didn’t have time to await Marion Hidic’s arrival. Best to start things moving right away. This was going to place a great deal of pressure on his troops, their families, and the entire world of Liao. As if they needed any more. He glanced over the noteputer screen once again, reading down the list of worlds. Wei. Palos. Foot Fall. Shipka. They had done it.

The Capellan Confederation had invaded The Republic.

Yiling (Chang-an)

Qinghai Province, Liao

30 May 3134

Rain stormed down from a dark unruly sky, pounding the Conservatory campus with the fury of the Confederation unleashed. Under the covered park, where he and his friends often took their lunch in bad weather, Evan Kurst sat on one corner of a cement-formed picnic table, elbows resting on knees and feet on the bench. He stared out into the gray curtain, trying to picture what was happening on worlds light-years away: BattleMechs on the march, cities in flames.

The Capellan ensign with its fist and sword hoisted once again above the capital on Wei.

“I’m tellin’ you, it’s happening.” David Parks stuffed half a burrito into his mouth, talking around the food. “Tracy Fox already got her letter offering early graduation and an immediate position with the Principes Guard.”

That was the latest buzz, of course. Call ups. Advancement. Heightened training schedules. With the fall of Wei and a second assault wave already hitting Foochow and Menkar, everyone was certain that the border fighting would impact the Conservatory with dramatic results.

Evan glanced down at Jenna, who huddled between his feet and Mark Lo. She did not look convinced. “Tracy is top of her class. Early graduation was bound to be offered.” She smiled with bitchy sweetness. “Elemental blood will out.”

A popular turn of phrase, and not always complimentary. Infantrymen descended from Elementals, genetically bred warriors introduced by the Clans, almost always did better than their naturally evolved cousins.

David winced as the barb struck, since his own claim to Elemental bloodlines had done nothing more than mark him for jibes from his friends. “Yeah, but the Principes? Not the Triarii Protectors? I hear the Guard took heavy losses on Palos, which is why they are looking at direct recruitment.” Sitting on the far side of the table, he had to reach across to slap Lo on the shoulder. “Back me up, Mark.”

Mark Lo sipped a grape-colored power drink. He had weight training right after their shared lunch and rarely ate anything heavier than a creatine-laced shake. “I think David might be right.” Though he couldn’t refrain from adding, “This time.”

David ignored the addendum. “And the fact that she made it off world at all—you know it’s her campaign work for Marion Hidic.”

“Now that’s ridiculous.” Mark jumped back in fast. “Political leanings have nothing to do with military postings.”

“You keep telling yourself that. But when was the last time any student who signed up for Capellan History and Culture was posted anywhere but to the local militia? Oh, that’s right, you don’t take that class, do you?”

Neither did David, but only because he hoped for an off-world assignment himself. Evan felt a slight stir in his gut, though, as his and Jenna’s next hour put them both in Professor Rogers’s auditorium for Capellan History and Culture.

It was popular mythology that any Conservatory cadet who signed up for CH&C was automatically pigeonholed as anti-Republic and would be blacklisted from any fair military placement. Likewise, being civic-minded enough to support a legitimate political campaign showed what a good Republic citizen you were—or would be—and boosted you along your career path. Discrimination, certainly, of the very kind The Republic claimed it stood against. But who was going to hold the military responsible?

“The Conservatory only started offering the course again thanks to the efforts of Ezekiel Crow.” Jenna sounded thoughtful. She forked up the last few bites from her bento bowl. “I wonder if the course is tainted more than ever now.”

“Not you, too,” Mark said. “Whatever happened to Crow on Northwind and on Terra, what he accomplished here was a good thing.”

Evan wasn’t so sanguine. They were referring to the campus uprising of 3128, when a strong minority in the cadet corps and regular student body took control of the Conservatory in protest of discriminatory campus policies. Most of those protestors believed that Capellan culture should be celebrated, and taught, as it had in the years following the Conservatory’s founding. Those privileges had been suspended after the Confederation assault of 3111, the Night of Screams (or the Massacre of Liao, if you accepted Republic propaganda). In its place had come classes on citizenship and moral philosophy.

3128 stirred up a lot of mixed feelings. The Legate fired on student positions, and had been on the verge of launching a full assault when the Paladin Ezekiel Crow arrived. Crow talked the students into ending their violent standoff. His compromise on behalf of the standing authority was to allow true Capellan history, unvarnished and fully credited, to be taught, and that the students be given more liberal rights to assembly. Legate Kang resigned two months later and the people had celebrated the Paladin’s idea of justice.