We began on Terra,
millions of years ago. Today, mankind stretches out among the stars
of the Milky Way, touching thousands of worlds, as far from our home
as Clan space, more than 2,000 light-years distant. Yet who are we,
really? What have we become in our relentless push outward and
onward? I’m Bertram Habeas, and tonight, let’s find the answers to
these and many other fascinating questions together, as we tour the
stars!
Volume XXV: Profit and Power—Birth of the Lyran
Commonwealth
Almost lost to the ages, an insignia flutters on a flagpole
before the Donegal Museum of Antiquities. Gray, with a lyre at its
center, three strings of gold cross this flag, crisp and clear,
catching the light from Donegal’s pale yellow sun. Even native
tourists to this place, seeing this banner for the first time,
wonder at its meaning, but it is plain to anyone who knows the
history of their realm—this flag was once the standard of the Lyran
Commonwealth.
Though today the Steiner fist, set against a field of striking
blue, is the recognized standard of the Lyran state, the
three-stringed Grecian lyre told of a more optimistic time, when the
leaders of three mercantile alliances joined forces to create the
nation whose name has become synonymous with economic stability. As
much for mutual profit as for mutual defense, the three leaders,
Thomas McQuiston of the Federation of Skye, Kevin Tamar of the Tamar
Pact, and Robert Marsden of the Protectorate of Donegal, met on the
Tamar world of Arcturus in 2339 to discuss a political and economic
merger.
Like all leaders who forged their realms during the period of
darkness after the Terran Alliance turned in on itself, all three
recognized the threats of a growing Draconis Combine on one front, a
resurgent Terran Hegemony on another, and the might of the Free
Worlds League on yet another. More than that, however, all three
claimed rulership over wealthy realms, any one of which would be a
tempting morsel for its neighbors. By uniting, they could at once
forge a greater defense against their neighbors, while lowering
restrictions on trade amongst one another, tripling their markets at
no cost in resources.
In 2341, after two years of negotiations, the Lyran Commonwealth
was born, named for the three-stringed Grecian lyre proposed by
Robert Marsden as a symbol of the three realms and their equal
standing as partners. It was to be ruled by nine archons—three from
each partner-state—with an Archon Basileus to be chosen as its
leader. Established with high-minded—even egalitarian—ideals, the
three leaders saw a future of hope and profit ahead of them.
However, even the best-laid plans can go astray, and for the
newborn Commonwealth, truer words could not be spoken. . . .
The first sign that something had gone terribly wrong
should have been, of course, the fact that the Lyran
Commonwealth existed only on paper for its first five years.
The three founders couldn’t even decide who the nine archons
would be, or how to effectively combine their economies.
Marsden, Tamar, and McQuiston were brilliant businessmen, but
their concepts for running an interstellar nation of some 100
billion people were hopelessly flawed. Although they built a
lovely capitol building on Arcturus, by the time the first
rulers of the Commonwealth had gathered in it the new nation
was in the grip of an economic upheaval and teetered on the
edge of ruin.
Though unable to lead, the nine archons quickly learned how
to profit, and the next decade displayed their avarice in the
face of crumbling prosperity among their subjects. Add to this
mix the growing threat of an aggressive Draconis Combine,
massing troops near the Tamar Pact border, and rumors that
Tamar would secede to sign a treaty with the Kuritas if things
didn’t improve, and it comes as little wonder that people
thought the Commonwealth was doomed. —Kevin Duelli, A
Cynic’s Guide to Politics, 3rd Edition, Dark Skye Press,
3090 |
Robert Marsden, often regarded by Lyran history books as “the
last of the nine archons who gave a damn” was an impatient man, yet
he stood by in the shadows of the government building on Arcturus
for close to thirty years before finally taking action. Some say
this delay was a sign of the same corruption that infected the other
archons, others paint a picture of eternal optimism—a hope that
everything would turn out right without extreme measures. Still
others wonder aloud if he hadn’t deliberately stayed his hand to
gather his evidence against the others and let the people of the
Commonwealth know how truly bad things could get. For whatever
reason, Marsden waited until 2375 before finally doing what someone
probably should have done a long time before. After touring the
realm, winning support among local leaders and gathering evidence on
his fellow archons, he announced to the Commonwealth that he was
crowning himself Archon Basileus, and publicized the worst excesses
of his fellow archons.
Moral outrage and the results of his backroom deals did the rest.
Fueled by a quarter century of failing economics and rampant
corruption, with promise of a new, stronger government that included
only one archon and an elected body of planetary representatives as
his council of advisors, the majority of the Lyran people rallied to
Marsden’s banner. By December of 2375, Robert Marsden was officially
recognized as the sole ruler of the Lyran state, and the other eight
archons were serving life terms in prison.
Making good on his promises, Archon Marsden submitted to all
Lyran member-worlds his Articles of Acceptance, allowing each world
to sign off on his new government. Because the laws outlining the
rights of individual worlds were so loose, most planetary leaders
signed on eagerly, though a few required more urging than others.
While a few remaining holdouts—notably Tamar and Skye, whose leaders
were among the eight archons sentenced to imprisonment—required
military action, Marsden’s plan for a strong, unified Lyran
Commonwealth was finally realized.
Over the next fifteen years, the Lyran economy not only
stabilized, but improved vastly, and Marsden focused his efforts
equally on consolidating his authority, stabilizing the financial
situation, building and improving trade with neighboring realms and
within his own borders, and building the Commonwealth military. The
Lyran Commonwealth quickly became known for its mercantilism, and
for having one of the best-equipped militaries of all the nations in
the Inner Sphere. Even so, events would soon unfold to teach the
Lyran people that money wasn’t everything. . . .
So, let’s see if this sounds familiar: It’s a time of
crisis. A beloved leader of the realm has died. His successor
publicly grieves, but soon announces to the gathered masses
that she will lead the state in the name of peace, then sends
her closest rival to fight a war, hoping he’ll get himself
killed. Who would I be talking about?
If you guessed Katherine Steiner-Davion, you’re only half
right.
No, I’m talking about the founder of the Steiner legacy
herself, Katherine Steiner (though she was known as Katherine
Marsden to her people at first). —Mikhail Brein,
Endless Loop: A Steiner History, Avalon Press, 3059.
|
The events that led to the foundation of House Steiner actually
began with the Commonwealth’s one Achilles’ heel: the general
incompetence of its military forces. A disastrous and unauthorized
assault on the Free Worlds League planet of Promised Land
demonstrated that simply having the best equipment doesn’t win a
war, and is alleged to have contributed to Robert Marsden’s death
from a coronary after public sentiment turned against the aging
Archon. In his place came his younger brother, Alistair Marsden.
As the Age of War began with the Capellan–Free Worlds border
disputes, and the eventual Combine invasion of the Commonwealth,
Alistair Marsden repeatedly found his military commanders ill suited
to the task of protecting the realm. The threat was so great, it had
forced Marsden to relocate the Lyran capital to Tharkad, lest it
fall to the Dragon. In fury and frustration, he eventually dismissed
his military commanders, and went off to lead from the front
personally.
It was while repelling a Combine assault that Alistair Marsden
was killed in action, leaving behind a grieving widow, Katherine
Marsden (nee Steiner) and a newborn son, also named Alistair. As a
woman whose beauty, intelligence, and eloquence had won over the
hearts of the Lyrans even before the death of her husband,
Katherine’s passionate eulogy of the lost Archon and her obvious
grief gained the people’s sympathy as well. When, just two months
later, the grieving widow proclaimed her name change back to
Steiner, and her intention to rule as Archon Basileus, with her son
as Archon-Designate, a shocked Commonwealth reacted with whispered
rumors, but surprisingly little opposition.
Katherine Steiner’s winning charm and keen intellect even helped
her win the support of the leaders of Tamar and Skye, rebellious
provinces since the days of Robert Marsden. She even made Timothy
Marsden, her late husband’s uncle and a contender for the throne,
her commanding general on the Free Worlds front. When Marsden died
in battle against House Marik, the last obstacle to the foundation
of House Steiner died with him.
Join us next time, for a closer look at the nature of House
Steiner and the rise of a nation known for its wealth and power even
today. I’m Bertram Habeas.