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Were they so desperate as that?

“You have nothing for us, then?” he asked, still looking for a way out from under the blade.

“Nothing helpful,” the first precentor replied. But he did reach into a fold in his robes, and draw out a data wafer. The thin circle of black silica was marked with the Greek letter rho, the insignia of ComStar’s supposedly defunct intelligence-gathering agency: ROM.

Hesitant to pick up the small wafer, Jonah watched as May set it on the edge of the low table. Héloïse eyed it warily as well, as if it might uncoil into a tiny, poisonous viper.

“What is it?” Jonah asked.

May shrugged, as if hesitant to say. Then: “Answers to some of your recent questions regarding Victor Steiner-Davion’s methods of investigation. The material he unearthed. And the resources he tapped in the process.”

“You say that as if Victor had something to hide,” Héloïse said.

“He did. Believe me, he did. And that something will come out in the next few days. Which is why we turn over the information to you now, before it leaks to the public in such a way that will only strengthen the Senate’s case.”

Jonah picked up the small data-storage device. It was cold and smooth to the touch. Not much larger than a quarter-stone coin and half as heavy, he knew it could contain gigabytes of data. Likely it did. He felt the looming presence of the sword’s edge, held up only by the thinnest of hairs.

“And if I orchestrate its release first?” he asked.

“As I said before: ‘It’s not going to be easy, what you have to do.’ You may be able to salvage something from this disaster, and give us all time to look for new options. Perhaps this summit of Inner Sphere leaders will bring about new ideas, new answers. Regardless, you’ve been a military man long enough to know that when war is inevitable—”

“It is always best to strike the first blow,” Jonah finished.

Which was when he felt certain he heard the thread of hair finally snap.

Run teleprompter:

Citizens and residents.

It is with heavy heart that I appear before you on this day,

To inform you of the drastic action deemed necessary

To restore order to our Republic and

To promote safety for the entire realm.

In this dark hour, as we face a two-front war,

and with the imminent arrival of many Inner Sphere leaders,

it is a time for us all to stand together.

But instead, we have shown ourselves divided.

This helps no one but our enemies

And those within our own borders who would profit from The Republic’s misfortune.

I can no longer allow the government to remain hostage to such men and women.

Which is why,

With great reluctance and after exhausting all reasonable efforts to restore the peace,

I have issued the following orders.

Today, by executive order, under the War Powers Act of 3082,

I have ordered the Senate disbanded.

The authority of any noble now extends no further than the boundary of dedicated fiefs.

Prefecture governors will continue to administer all laws of The Republic.

Legates and command-level officers remain under local dominion,

except where a world or governor refuses to acknowledge this action by word or deed.

Any attempt by a former senator to wield undue power or influence

will be met with the harshest penalties.

This state of emergency must and will persist

Until the danger to The Republic is past

And all people, citizen or resident, have had their chance to voice an opinion

on a new and better form of representation.

I sincerely regret the pain and the fear of uncertainty that this action will bring.

Let us all pray that a brighter future awaits us

on the other side of this terrible darkness.

COMRADES IN ARMS

On, on, you noble English,

Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!—

Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,

Have in these parts from morn till even fought,

And sheath’d their swords for lack of argument.

—Shakespeare’s King Henry V, Act III, Scene I

War is never so clean and neat as we would like it. As recruiting drives would lead you to believe. For every act of bravery you can find one of cowardice, and for every decorated hero a father, a son, who died ignominiously.

Why, then, are there always those who are so willing to call ‘Out swords, and to work!’?

—Tara Campbell, Countess Northwind, “A Response,” Terra, 11 April 3135

15

The exarch would think to abolish us? We, who have stood at the precipice and gazed into the abyss on behalf of mankind for century upon century? There is no greater lie than the one he thinks to unveil: That we are dispensable, and he is necessary. I say, we abolish him!

—Senator Therese Ptolomeny (Unilateralist, Park Place), Terra, 10 April 3135

Terra

Republic of the Sphere

11 April 3135

It was organized to look like a parade.

It began at Geneva’s DropPort, escorted by a paladin and a double column of armored vehicles leading the way through the streets. Aerospace fighters circled overhead, occasionally making low-level passes to distract and entertain the cautious crowds who turned out for the spectacle. Bright rainbow banners and green garlands of fresh boughs decorated the entire city. At main intersections, pennants with the House Davion crest stirred under a light breeze, the sword-and-sunburst insignia marking their route and supporting the illusion of a festive event.

A parade. Only days after the exarch of The Republic forcibly cleared Geneva’s Magnum Park and announced the dissolution of the Senate.

Right.

To Julian Davion’s trained eye—and likely to anyone with a little common sense—the “parade” was obviously a fortified guard. There were reactionary factions within The Republic’s government, its civilian population, the military ; there was no saying for certain what they might do. What they might try.

Julian had been allowed his Templar, repaired after the fighting on New Hessen and freshly painted in the red-and-gold parade colors of the Davion Guards. He stomped along behind an armored limousine, presumably standing guard over his uncle. But it was Harrison’s body double who waved to the curious as the military convoy wound its way through Geneva proper and finally gained the rural highway that twisted alongside the grand lake and (eventually) up into the nearby Alps. Here the body double, at least, could relax. Enjoy the limousine’s well-stocked bar and pantry.

Another sixty tense kilometers for Julian, to the chalet over Thonon-les-Baines that had been given over to the diplomatic party from the Federated Suns. The prince’s security team kept Harrison buttoned up in a Fox armored car the entire way. Julian insisted on the precaution. The Fox trailed at the end of the column, ready to run for safety at the first sign of trouble.

None came. Between David McKinnon’s Atlas and Julian’s Templar, and another thousand tons of rolling military might, any thoughts of taking the prince for an important political hostage must certainly have fallen by the wayside.