BattleTech Legends: Patriots and Tyrants by Loren L. Coleman

Author:Loren L. Coleman [Coleman, Loren L.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Catalyst Game Labs
Published: 2010-05-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Deschuttes, Mogyorod

Melissia Theater

Lyran Alliance

8 December 3062

How strange the uniform felt. It was one Victor knew well from the history of his people, but had never worn until now. The green cotton jacket was heavily starched and razor-creased, the collar and cuffs trimmed in the gold brocade of a command officer. Matching stirrup-trousers. Roweless spurs on his boots, a Davion tradition signifying his position as a MechWarrior. And instead of the full cape, standard since 3042, he wore a half-chest breastplate of golden bronze in a sunburst pattern around his left shoulder.

It was the full military dress of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns. A uniform last worn—officially—during the rule of his father and before the creation of the Armed Forces of the Federated Commonwealth.

“Not quite the uniform I’m used to,” Victor admitted.

Lyran-raised and a graduate of one of the most prestigious Lyran military academies, he felt displaced wearing this uniform. Conspicuously absent were almost every decoration, award, or ribbon to which he was entitled. Only the rank badge of field marshal and the original crest of the Federated Suns graced the uniform.

“A necessity,” Jerry Cranston argued again for the benefit of Countess Drake and Demi-Precentor Shakov, who were also present in the broadcast studio. “A revolution needs a legitimate identity, and Katherine is too well entrenched in the Alliance for you to raise a Lyran standard.”

Victor looked at Omi, who stepped forward and gently drew him aside. The men gave way as she claimed Victor.

“You must do this,” she said in a low voice. “Your people need you.”

He nodded, knowing how much courage it took for her to say the words. “It seems we are always having these conversations, Omi-san. How often have we been separated by the needs of our people? Outreach. Tharkad. Luthien. So many times.” The list of worlds where he and Omi had said goodbye, in person or through vids, just now seemed endless.

Omi smiled at him, her eyes calm as a clear blue sky. “And how often has our reunion been all the more joyful? I will be waiting, Victor. Always. Tonight, I will be waiting at the estate.”

“You’re not staying?” He had assumed she would wait in the wings while he recorded his statement. His people had commandeered the local broadcasting station for the fateful announcement. Everyone was here. Almost.

“Isis is alone at the mansion,” Omi reminded him. “And when you finish here, you will be locked away for most of the night with your advisors.”

“I’ll be back before midnight,” he promised. She was right, but it was still difficult to let her go.

“That would be good, Victor-san. We have some matters to discuss, you and I. Important matters. Personal. Perhaps…” Omi hugged herself. “Victor, I would never intrude on the memory of your brother, but perhaps I know something that can ease the pain.” She smiled then, a mysterious smile. “Though I do not promise not to complicate your life immensely.”

Was Omi suggesting that they take their union to a new

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