[Note: Here's the first chapter in my adaptation of the alternate post-4th
Succession War history of Battletech. It begins right after the end of the War
of 3039. Comments and suggestions are welcome.Quite obviously, it ain't done,
so bear with me. I'll TRY to get the next part up before Thanksgiving, but you
may have to wait until sometime next week.]

January 6th, 3040

New Avalon, Federated Commonwealth

Quintus Allard finished his report on the garrisoning of the few newly acquired
worlds from what was now known as the war of 3039. He looked up from the
datapad to see Hanse Davion, his liege, and friend, cradling his forehead in
his hands wearily. The war had not gone as planned.

"You all right Hanse?" he asked, tentatively. Hanse wasn't known for his lack
of temperament, but the he wasn't known for failures either.

"I'm fine. I STILL can't figure out how he beat me," Hanse replied, "We KILLED
them during the 4th Succession war. He CAN'T have pulled his military together
that quickly!"

Quintus kept trying to console him. "It's not as bad as you're making it out
Hanse, you DID take several key worlds from the old Dieron district. Most
people would
hardly consider that 'failure'."

"Oh come on Quint. Let's be honest," the Prince scoffed, "The new Kanrei got
the better of me. We should have taken Luthien, especially with the help of the
old
LCAF units. Even with the Combine suddenly coming up with all those old
Star-League 'mechs."

"True. I wonder where he got those anyway?" Quintus said, "Ahh well, you've got
other problems now."

"True enough," the Prince replied, "Duke Sandoval's been screaming bloody
murder at being taken off the offensive. The entire Draconis March is worried
that the
new Commonwealth has lost it's military might."

Quintus smiled. "The maybe we should show them otherwise."

Hanse sat bolt upright at the comment. He looked Quintus straight in the eye
and began to grin as well. "You old dog, you've got an idea don't you?"

Quintus' grin grew even wider. "I might. You know that little project you
cordoned off half of Kathil for?" Hanse nodded, and Quintus continued. "Well,
it's ready for
it's shakedown cruise."

Hanse Davion's previously sullen demeanor disappeared like fog before the
morning sun. "The Prosperity? She's finished?" Quintus simply nodded his head
in
assent. "Ha!" the Prince crowed, "That's it! They want military might? Let's
see them deny the first WarShip produced since the first Succession war!"

* * * * *

February 14th, 3040

Kathil Shipyards

Kathil, Federated Commonwealth

She was ugly. VERY ugly. A massive, poorly-designed chunk of metal, propelled
by a fusion drive, moving slowly out of the clutches of the Kathil shipyards,
the
Prosperity was not much of a sight to behold. Despite this, she was, perhaps,
the most important military development since the advent of the Battlemech. She
was
the first Warship to be produced by any of the Successor States since the First
Succession war.

To be sure, classifying her as a WarShip wasn't saying much. She was small,
barely the size of an older Star League era corvette. She was slow, barely
producing
enough thrust to make her faster than the average JumpShip. She was
undergunned, with only a few capital-scale weapons to enforce her will upon
other ships. With
that said, she was now the most powerful space-borne vessel in the Successor
States. And she made New Avalon News Service correspondent Ariana
Christendon's heart swell with pride.

We're winning! she thought to herself. We're finally crawling out of the Dark
Ages! She turned around to make sure that her crew was setting up the Tri-D
equipment correctly as she stood on the observation deck of the Kathil
Shipyards, Inc. orbital platform, along with other, hand-picked correspondents
from
throughout the Inner Sphere. Everyone seemed excited, even the ComStar News
Bureau reporters, who had set their ultra-high-tech equipment up hours ago, and
had been filming ever since.

The final Tri-D node snapped into place on top of it's tripod, and the
cameraman signaled that they were ready to begin. The LED mounted on the
primary module
counted down to zero, and Ariana began her carefully rehearsed commentary on
the event.

"Thanks Jay," she said, leading in from what would be an introduction by the
lead anchorman, "I'm standing here on the Observation Deck here at Kathil
Shipyard's
orbital headquarters. Behind me, one of the greatest achievements of any
Successor State since the fall of the Star League is just exiting it's dry
dock. The WarShip
prosperity, which you can see behind me, has just recently finished completion.

"The Prosperity is the first of it's kind, and the first WarShip ever to see
production since the fall of the Star League. It is to be a test bed of new
technologies for the
Federated Commonwealth. First, though, the vessel will be taking her shakedown
cruise, a goodwill tour of the Draconis March. She is expected to arrive at the
newly liberated world of Breed in late March, as a treat for the troops who are
now garrisoning that planet.

"Sister ships, such as the Stability, are to roll out of the dry docks later
this year and early next year, as the Federated Commonwealth once again reminds
us all of
the new dawn of humanity that recovered technology will bring us all. From
Kathil Shipyards, this is Ariana Christendon. Back to you Jay."

* * * * *

February 16th, 3040

Hilton Head Island

Terra

Most members of the First Circuit were simply amazed that Myndo Waterley didn't
let loose into a murderous rage. There, in the holotank set in the middle of
the
chamber, floated the greatest technological feat presented to the public in
centuries. And it didn't belong to ComStar.

"Precentor ROM, why did I not know about this before hand?" she asked in an
unsettlingly even voice.

The head of ROM was a VERY unhappy man. his only solace was the truth, thin
protection against the storm of Waterley's anger.

"Quite simply, Primus, because it was kept from us. No communications relating
to the existence of this vessel passed through our HPGs, and we were led to
believe
that the area declared 'off limits' around Kathil was building a new class of
transport JumpShip. We were led to believe the area was cordoned off after the
last
attack came close to destroying the shipyards."

"That is NOT a new class of Transport JumpShip Precentor." was the flat,
monotone reply, more frightening than any tirade could have been."

"No, Primus, it is not. I apologize for my mishandling of the incident." came
the hopeful apology. The Precentor made a note to get his affairs in order in
case he
should suffer an "accident" over this.

Primus Waterly simply stared daggers at him, and then regarded the rest of the
First Circuit. "This session is adjourned. Precentor ROM, ,I am MOST
disappointed
in you. You WILL act to prevent future oversights. You will have a summary of
the vessel's capabilities to the Precentor Martial by this after noon." She
then stood
up, and walked towards he private office just off the chamber.

Once inside, she began shaking with rage. How DARE they? she thought to
herself, How DARE they violate the monopoly of ComStar! She sat at her desk,
accessed her personal console, and began looking through her files.

She's kept these since making the rank of Precentor, long before the position
of Primus would ever be attained. They contained case scenarios and strategies
she
believed would open her way to uniting the Inner Sphere under the banner of
ComStar. None of them predicted something such as this.

She reached the bottom of her database, and opened her last-ditch scenario,
"Operation: Scorpion", whereby she would use a combination of the
widely-underestimated Com Guards and a shutdown of HPG services to secure the
Inner Sphere. This would no longer be satisfactory. She needed a new plan.

She sat for a minute, attempting to calm herself. She thought about what
ComStar could do to secure it's place as the center of a new Star League. She
reached over
to the intercom, and paged her secretary.

"Adept?"

"Yes Primus?"

"Contact Precentor Martial Focht and relay that I wish him to begin performing
training exercises with the bulk of the Com Guard forces. Let him know that
these
are to start immediately."

"Yes Primus."

And with that, she began to plan a new operation; Operation: Ragnarok.

* * * * *

March 3rd, 3040

Northeast Regional Training Facility (Arctic)

Siberia, Terra

Adept Zeta Martin Atwater clung to his restraints as hard as he could as the
Highlander dropped back to earth. The tiny jump seat he sat in, behind the
command
chair of the 'mech dug into his haunches hard as 90 tons of assault battlemech
hit the ground. He was NOT having fun. Up front, the Demi-Precentor was
undoubtedly wearing a gin on his face at the thought of his passenger's
discomfort.

As the Highlander landed, a pair of 'mechs popped out from behind a stand of
trees, both wearing Lyran colors. One, a Bombardier, snapped off a quick double
salvo of missiles, all of which passed harmlessly overhead, and the abruptly
broke right to clear the firing arcs of the second one, a Crab, which strobed
out a pair of
10 cm lasers. The Bombardier, much faster than the slow Highlander, moved at
full speed to return to the cover of the tree line.

Both of the Crab's lasers connected, and, had this been a live-fire situation,
would have melted almost a ton of armor from the Highlander's torso. As it was,
the
Demi-Precentor's battle computer registered the hits against simulated armor,
and kept a tally for later use.

The Demi-Precentor returned fire when he reached a range of about 300 meters,
cutting loose with a volley from his own long-ranged missile launcher, which
sent
out a dense cloud of smoke rockets that impacted all over the opposing Crab.
Seeing the missiles hit, the triggered a shot from his gauss rifle. Martin
heard a loud
"whungg" from the right side of the 'mech as the weapon threw a practice round
out of the barrel at a speed in excess of mach 2. The projectile streaked
towards the
enemy Crab, where it cracked off a simulated half-ton of armor.

"Hah!" shouted the piloting Demi-Precentor, "There! I TOLD you the magnets were
out of line!"

Merely wishing that this trip were over, and not wanting to lengthen this
experience any further, Martin simply answered with a noncommittal grunt and
watched as
the Demi-Precentor closed in on the damaged Crab, which had fallen from the
damage it had taken. The Demi-Precentor triggered a second blast from his Gauss
rifle, and then sent a half-dozen short-ranged missiles at the Crab, following
up with a trio of 5 cm medium lasers. The lasers stripped protection from the
left side,
the missiles impacted all over the lower half of the 'mech, and the Gauss rifle
shot connected solidly on the backward-canted lower leg of the machine, causing
it's
battle computer to register the loss of a leg. The machine tumbled, unable to
remain standing.

The pilot crowed in victory. Martin merely shook his head. How could anyone
actually ENJOY this? He gingerly rubbed where the straps of his harness had dug
into his shoulders just a moment before, cursing the pilot who had forced him
to ride along, simply to confirm a problem with the weaponry.

Martin looked out at the fallen Crab . This is insane, he thought to himself,
when are we ever going to have to fight like this? We're ComStar, for Blake's
sake.
The only reason we HAVE 'mechs is to protect HPGs, right? He thought so, but
then this exercise had taken on a decidedly offensive role. That worried him.

Just as he was beginning to think about the ramifications of it, he suddenly
found himself rocked from the side, as the Bombardier returned to avenge it's
comrade.
Wishing this were over, Martin braced himself for the kidney-jarring liftoff
that came as the Highlander swung back into the battle.