Warrior: Coupé (The Warrior Trilogy, Book Three): BattleTech Legends, #59

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Karla reached out and grabbed Clovis by the shoulder, spinning him around to face her. “You can’t leave us! What sort of man would desert thirty children…” Her voice trailed off as she read the anguish twisting over Clovis’s features. “Oh, God, Clovis. I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…”

  Clovis clenched his jaw and waved away her concern. “You’re right, no man would abandon thirty children. No man would have found himself in this predicament. A real man would have led everyone to safety far away from here. Being only half a man, I ushered everyone into this rathole, and now the cat sits up there, waiting for us to come to it.”

  He looked into her azure eyes. “You don’t know how, before all of this, I wished for some way to show you what sort of person I really am. I used to fantasize rescuing you from a dangerous situation… Yes, even trapped in this body, I can dream of being a knight in shining armor.” Clovis snorted derisively at the image. “Then this happens and the opportunity I wished for let us both see what I truly am. The word pitiful seems so appropriate.”

  Karla stared at Clovis silently. “Clovis, I don’t see you as pitiful…”

  “Save it!” he snarled angrily, jerking a thumb back toward his own chest. “I know what I am, and I know how everyone sees me. I’m an oddity. I’m a court jester, I’m a freak of nature that people befriend just to prove how open-minded they are, but they never want to get close. They don’t care because I’m not a real person. I’m a resource, but in this situation, I’m not very useful. Face it. You’d never have spoken to me if you hadn’t wanted me for your class.”

  Karla slapped Clovis hard across the face. “Clovis Holstein, I will not be spoken to in that tone or with those words! You insult me, and you insult all those who are your friends.”

  She pressed her right hand against Clovis’s livid cheek to stroke away the sting. “You think people only see you as small, but that’s not true. Maybe they’re more aware of your physical proportions at first, but that changes after a while. I’ve got dark hair and light eyes and I always think people find me strange because of that unusual combination. You’ve got no monopoly on such feelings.”

  She frowned heavily. “How can you say no one cares about you or wants to be a true friend? I remember seeing you at the community dance a month ago. I envied how you got along so easily with everyone. You, Dan Allard, and Cat Wilson laughed and carried on like three close friends, and it certainly didn’t look as though your friends were just politely tolerating you.”

  Clovis looked down at his feet. “Perhaps I do have some friends, but that’s beside the point. You wouldn’t have gone to the dance with me.”

  Karla narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t ask me, did you?”

  Clovis’s look challenged her. “Would it have made any difference if I did?”

  She sighed. “I won’t lie to you, Clovis. You don’t fit the image of my dream man.”

  The dwarf shook his head. “And Thor does?”

  Karla Bremen moistened her lips. “Clovis, I’m not a teenage girl looking for a date for the big dance. Yes, at one time, Thor closely matched what I wanted, but I’ve changed since creating that image. There are some things more important to me than looks.” She glanced back over her shoulder to the room where the children lay huddled together. “The care and feeling you’ve shown over the past couple of days have touched me. You have strength, you have heart, and as much courage as anyone who ever strapped himself into a ’Mech.”

  Clovis studied her face. “Are you saying there’s a chance for me in your life?”

  Karla nodded. “It’s not a contest with me as the prize. It’s working together to see if we have what it takes to form a lasting partnership. I make no promises, other than to be honest with you, and you’ll have to accept that. If we’re to have a relationship, it will have to grow of its own accord.”

  Clovis smiled as the tension between them eased. “Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst, as they say at the fights on Solaris.”

  Karla laughed sincerely. “A wise idea. You’ve no idea how awful is my cooking nor how voracious is my appetite for truly bad holovids.”

  “I’ll take my chances.” Clovis looked back toward the room containing the children. “You’d best get back to them. I still have to go up there and see what is going on.”

  She hesitated, then said softly, “Be careful, Clovis.”

  Slinging a satchel full of electronics repair tools over his shoulder, Clovis laughed lightly and headed toward the shaft leading upward. “Take heart, fair damsel. Beset by the Dragon we may be, but no knight in shining armor would ever leave a lady in peril.”

  During the long climb up toward the surface, Clovis forced himself to concentrate on the mission at hand. Can’t be dreaming about what might or might not be, Clovis. Rung by rusty rung, he ascended to a sub-basement level of the ’Mech bay. Crawling through shadowy access passages, Clovis headed deep into the facility the Kell Hounds had used as their temporary base.

  Finally, in a water pipe tunnel just north of the east–west sewer line, he found what he had been seeking. A meter beyond the wall that separated Morgan Kell’s private office from the room he used for staff meetings, Clovis felt a slender fiber-optic cable running along a water pipe.

  Bingo! Though I griped about spending five hours down in these stinking tunnels, now I’m glad Morgan wanted an independent visiphone line running out of his office. Groping around in his tool kit, Clovis located the small headset and cable tapper he’d used to check the connections when putting in the line.

  He clipped the optical collar to the line and tightened it down until he heard a dial tone in his earpiece. On the alphanumeric keypad dangling from the optical collar, he carefully typed in “COMSTAR,” then adjusted the microphone before his mouth. He turned up its volume fairly high.

  A gentle voice of indeterminate sex filled his ear. “ComStar, Lyons south. The Peace of Blake be with you.”

  Clovis kept his voice to a low whisper. “I have a message for Morgan Kell.”

  The ComStar technician’s reply was firm but friendly. “Colonel Kell, in compliance with an order from Duke Aldo Lestrade, has left the world. I can put you in touch with his contact person here, a Clovis Holstein?”

  “I am Clovis Holstein. I need to get a message to the Kell Hounds. New Freedom has been occupied by a company from the Third Dieron Regulars. I need to tell Morgan.”

  Clovis heard the gentle tapping of fingers on a keyboard. A computer beeped and the tech’s voice again came on the line. “I do not have a current location for Morgan Kell.”

  Clovis thought for half a second. “They should be at Alphecca, at one of the jump points.”

  “That’s not what my computer shows, Mr. Holstein.”

  Clovis frowned. The heat from the hot water pipe filled the narrow tunnel with a stifling warmth. Sweat poured from his forehead and stung his eyes. “All right, then they should be at Ryde.”

  The tech clucked lightly. “I show that they have not reported in to collect their messages. Do you want to send this message to Ryde?”

  “Yes.”

  “Splendid.” The click of computer keys again played through the line. “With our next transmission, the message should get there by the first of next week.”

  “You don’t understand,” Clovis whispered frantically. “This is an emergency. The message has to go out now.”

  “That will be expensive, Mr. Holstein. How will you pay for the priority transmission?”

  “How am I going to…” Clovis growled with exasperation, then blurted, “Charge it to the Third Dieron Regulars.”

  “Very well. Initiating a call back on your line to get verification. Just a moment!”

  “No!” Clovis heard a series of melodic notes, then a harsh ring from the room above him. A voice echoed in stereo from the earpiece and above him. “Moshi moshi?”

  Clovis ripped the optical collar from the phone line, then scurried on through the hot tunnel. Here’s one t
ime my size is an advantage. Above him, in the world of men, an alarm sounded and the pounding of heavy footsteps drummed over the floor.

  Almost instantly, Clovis realized two things. They will catch me. I’ve got to head away from the children. Karla’s smiling face came unbidden into his mind and softened his second realization. When they catch me, they’ll kill me. May my death keep you safe, Karla Bremen…

  A shaft of light stabbed down into the tunnel as someone ripped away one of the access panels to the crawlspace. Clovis filled his hand with the Foxfire and shielded his eyes against the light with his left hand. Two booted feet dropped down into the tunnel, then the legs attached to them bent as the Combine soldier sank to his knees.

  Clovis pointed the gun at the man’s stomach and pulled the trigger. Using the soldier’s screaming as cover, Clovis turned into a cross passage. He traveled east along it, then headed back north at the next opportunity. He slid quickly through the tunnels and before he knew it, reached the outer wall and passed through it.

  The dwarf cracked the external accessway’s wooden doors and smiled. Hot damn! Time didn’t make any difference down in that hole, but here… Outside night had fallen, and for the first time, Clovis dared hope he might make good his escape.

  Cautiously, he pushed the door open enough for him to slip out. He pressed it down noiselessly, then hunkered down in the building’s shadow. He scoured the surrounding landscape for any sign of movement, but saw nothing. I wish they’d shut that damned alarm off. I’d prefer to trust my ears to my eyes in this darkness.

  Clovis set off toward the hills ringing New Freedom’s north side. He moved a short distance, then dropped into a crouch and waited. When confident he had not been seen or heard, he moved again a short distance. His back pressed to the rough bark on an evergreen tree, Clovis allowed himself a smile. Keep this up, and I’ll hit the first hillside in no time.

  Swirling out of the blackness, an ISF commando dropped from above him. The warrior slapped the Foxfire from Clovis’s hand, then drew his katana in a single deft motion. He pressed the sword’s point against Clovis’s throat. “Congratulations. By getting this far, you have eluded many who are your betters. I knew I would find you out here.”

  ISF. They’re as bad as Loki. They killed so many people at our Styx base. Clovis glanced over toward the Foxfire.

  The commando’s low, mocking laugh stopped him. “You are mine now, little man. I’ll take you back to our headquarters and we’ll see what sort of treasures you hide in that dull package.” He slid the sword back into its scabbard, but his harsh cackle sliced at Clovis’s spirit.

  Clovis shivered as his self-image collapsed in on itself. I am done. They will break me, and I will give up all I know. I have failed everyone… The commando’s ridicule cored through the last of the dwarf’s self-respect. I fooled myself into believing I was a man, but I should have known better. Blood will out… Clovis nodded in submission to his captor.

  Suddenly, the Combine guard’s laughter died. Lit by the scarlet beam of a ’Mech’s medium laser, he burst into flame.

  Chapter 14

  LYONS

  ISLE OF SKYE

  LYRAN COMMONWEALTH

  15 MAY 3029

  Dan Allard growled a harsh message into his radio as he watched the ISF commando become a torch. “Better move in, Colonel. I just tipped our hand.” Dan dropped his Wolfhound to one knee and used the ’Mech’s steel left hand to scoop up Clovis. “I’ve got Clovis, but I’ve attracted some notice.”

  The flickering muzzle flashes from the heavy machine gun emplacement on the hangar’s roof pinpointed the most obvious of the enemy oppositions. Dan’s auxiliary monitor noted the impacts of heavy slugs against the Wolfhound’s hand, but he knew nothing would get through to hurt Clovis. As long as I don’t clench my fist, friend, you’re safe as a babe in his mother’s arms.

  Dan swung the Wolfhound’s right arm around and extended it toward the gunners. The arm had no hand, and from the speed of their reaction, the Combine soldiers did not take long to realize why that was. Dan guided the large laser’s targeting crosshairs onto their position, then sent a bloody stream of coherent light pulsing into the machine gun nest.

  Kilojoules of energy fused sandbags into glass with a gentle caress and liquefied the machine gun in an instant. The heat touched off a series of explosions as machine gun ammo cooked off. The gunners, who had jumped clear of their position, avoided the laser’s fury, but could not escape the chaotic hail of bullets shooting from the gun emplacement.

  A new element joined the wailing alarm that Clovis had caused to be sounded. A sharp keening that built to an ear-shattering crescendo then dropped to an inaudible level wove through the sirens. Dan narrowed his eyes and reopened his radio channel. “’Mech-raid siren just clicked on, Morgan. They know I’m here and they’re scrambling.” Dan looked up at the darkened airstrip beyond the ’Mech bay. “Looks like they’re getting air cover up.”

  Two Sholagar light fighters moved down the runway. The disc-winged aircraft began to pick up speed when something burned its way onto Dan’s holographic display from above. White lines stabbed down into the lead Sholagar’s right wing and sliced through it like a table saw. Half the wing dropped off to slide along the runway on a bed of red and orange sparks.

  The damaged aerofighter, still getting full thrust from the engine mounted in its left wing, spun around and into the flight path of the second fighter. Without sufficient speed, the second pilot could not take off. He did get the nose of his ship up as he tried to pull away from his crippled wingman, but the tail of his Sholagar slammed into the deck and disintegrated. The second fighter came down on top of the first, and both exploded with the brilliance of a supernova.

  Dan heard the voice of Major Seamus Fitzpatrick, commander of the regiment’s air battalion, crackle through the static generated by the explosion. “Good shooting, Lieutenant Kirk. We’ll keep them grounded, Colonel.”

  Morgan Kell’s reply came back edged with anger and vibrating with emotion. “Seamus, nothing leaves here. Dan, is Clovis on line?”

  Dan frowned, reacting to the sound of Morgan’s voice. “No. I’ve not gotten him inside yet.”

  “Good.” Morgan hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “Final orders, people. O’Cieran and his ground troops confirmed what we all feared. That dug-up spot we passed is a mass grave. No compromise—no ’Mech from this company leaves New Freedom operational.”

  Dan let Morgan’s orders echo through his mind as he raised the Wolfhound’s left hand to its left shoulder. He punched a couple of buttons on the command console near his right hand, and a hatch on the Wolfhound’s neck opened. Dan glanced over at it as Clovis stepped through and pulled the hatch shut behind him.

  Dan jerked a thumb at the area behind his command couch. “Get yourself a cooling vest from in there and a headset. You can jack into the comm network.” Clovis, pale and sweating, nodded wordlessly. He seemed so unlike himself. Does he know about the others already? Dan wondered.

  Clovis pulled the oversized cooling vest on as tightly as he could and snapped the power cord into a jack on the right side of the Wolfhound’s command couch. He settled the communications headset into place and plugged the jack into a socket beneath the command console. Adjusting the microphone, he smiled weakly. “Thanks for saving my worthless hide.”

  The traces of self-pity in Clovis’s voice made Dan uneasy. Hiding for two days in an overrun base must have done something to him. Dan forced some levity into his own voice. “Hey, what are friends for? I’m just glad you lured him out of the tree.” Dan’s gaze flicked toward an area back to the right of the command couch. “We have company. Strap into that jump seat, Clovis. The ride will get bumpy from here on.”

  A Kurita Clint stalked out from behind the ’Mech bay. It raised the autocannon that was its right hand, but before the pilot could pull the trigger, Dan hit two switches on the Wolfhound’s command console. Two spotlights mounted slig
htly below the Wolfhound’s head flashed to life, giving the Kurita pilot a good look at the ’Mech he faced.

  Humanoid in body configuration, the Wolfhound scanned just like all other light ’Mechs on magscan or IR. Visually, however, the Wolfhound was a fearsome sight. The head had been designed to look like a wolf’s, from jutting muzzle to high, pointed ears. Standing tall and lean, the fierce ’Mech might have been the avatar of some ancient war god.

  Dan swung the Wolfhound’s large laser around and triggered it at the same moment the Clint pilot fired his autocannon. Shocked by the Wolfhound’s appearance, or by the fact that he’d never seen a ’Mech of that design before, the Kurita pilot’s shot blasted wide to Dan’s left, tearing great divots from the hillside behind him. The Wolfhound’s large laser burned through the armor over the Clint’s left breast. In a flash of incandescent fire, the laser’s beam consumed one of the Clint’s medium lasers.

  The Clint pilot corrected his aim and fired the autocannon a second time. Depleted uranium projectiles blasted armor from the Wolfhound’s left breast. The Wolfhound rocked back slightly as the slugs slammed into its chest, but none of them breached its armored skin. The Clint’s remaining medium laser, mounted in the center of its chest, slashed its ruby beam across the Wolfhound’s left thigh. Armor dropped away in molten ropes, but only revealed more armor plating beneath what the beam had destroyed.

  Dan laughed aloud. “That’s right, you bastard. This ’Mech is more than you can handle.” Dropping the targeting crosshairs for all his weapons onto the Clint’s outline, he glanced at Clovis. “It’s gonna get hot!” He hit the triggers for everything.

  One of the three medium lasers mounted on the Wolfhound’s torso carved a jagged scar along the armor on the Clint’s right flank, but that damage went virtually unnoticed by either shooter or target. The Wolfhound’s large laser vaporized the armor on the Clint’s right arm and melted the autocannon’s muzzle. The medium laser in the center of the Wolfhound’s chest sliced like a scalpel up through the myomer muscles controlling the arm, leaving their flayed ends dangling from the ’Mech’s useless limb. The Wolfhound’s third torso-mounted medium laser cored in through the Clint’s armpit and melted more of the ’Mech’s internal structure. Warped by the right arm’s dead weight, the ’Mech’s skeleton twisted toward the ground, pulling the Clint off-balance.