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

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Myndo looked around at the other precentors’ faces. They all wonder at this change on my part. Are they stupid, or are they just so used to opposing me that no argument I make seems logical to them? “You are correct, on a basic level, Precentor Sian. However, my desire to see Hanse Davion twist slowly in the wind does not blind me to the obvious problems with this missive. It is bound for an interdicted nation-state.”

  Precentor Tharkad brushed his left hand through his blond hair. “You know as well as I that we can vote to make an exception.” He glanced at the other precentors. “In fact, as I recall, we need only a two-thirds majority to allow this message to pass. Your argument over the verigraph’s legality is invalid.”

  She bowed her head. “I understand our regulations, Precentor Tharkad, but I appreciate your reminder. I would like to point out that the message was given to our station chief by an interdicted agent. Alexi Malenkov is a Davion agent. The verigraph passed from him to us. It is tainted and, therefore, cannot be delivered.”

  The flesh around the Primus’s eyes tightened. “Do not play these childish games, Precentor Dieron. The message came from Xiang.”

  “Oh?” Myndo met the Primus’s hard stare openly. “And if I were to send a child to a store to purchase wine in my name, do you think the shopkeeper would oblige him? No. Of course not.” She turned toward the precentors. “We have no way of knowing if that message came from Xiang, or if it really is being sent by Alexi Malenkov to his master on New Avalon.”

  “This is outrageous!” Precentor Sian appealed to the Primus. “Honorable One, please remind Precentor Dieron that we are dealing with reality here, not some fantasy world. Justin Xiang created a verigraph, not a holovid, not a written message. He spoke with my aide via visiphone, and our trace verified the call. He said he was sending Alexi Malenkov down with a verigraph.”

  Before the Primus could grant Villius Tejh’s request, Myndo spoke in a loud and clear voice. “Do not make your case on the basis of lies, Precentor Sian.” Her accusation shocked the other precentors, but she paid them no attention. “The transcript of the conversation, as you provided it, proves you incorrect. In the conversation, Xiang says, ‘I’ve already sent Alexi Malenkov down with the verigraph. He should be there in half an hour.’”

  Huthrin Vandel frowned deeply. “What earthly difference does that make? The important thing is that Xiang told our people Alexi Malenkov was carrying the message for him.”

  Myndo opened her hands. “That statement makes all the difference, Precentor New Avalon. The transcript marks the time of that line in the conversation as occurring at 6:30 p.m., standard time. That means Malenkov should have arrived at our station at 7:00 or 7:15, at the latest. He arrived at 9:00 p.m. What was he doing for that hour and three-quarters?”

  The Primus tucked his hands into the sleeves of his tan robe. “You cannot mean to suggest Alexi Malenkov forged a new verigraph, can you?” The look of contempt on his face matched the derision in his voice.

  “It is not impossible.” She realized the second she’d spoken that the Primus had provoked a thoughtless outburst, and she rushed to shore it up. “There are rumors that say the NAIS has successfully managed to dissect verigraphs and put them back together.”

  The Precentor of New Avalon laughed heartily. “You must forgive me, but that is utterly ridiculous. The New Avalon Institute of Science has developed no such technology recently, and even if they had, it would make no difference. There is no way they could have gotten so complicated a device to an agent in the field, especially not to a mole like Alexi Malenkov.”

  Myndo fixed him with a razored stare. “I was unaware we had agents in the NAIS that could confirm or deny this wild assertion of yours, Precentor. Are you certain you wish to live or die on that pronouncement?”

  Vandel pulled himself up to his full height. “I think, Precentor Dieron, that you grossly overstate the case. I stand by my explanation because I know it to be fact.” His voice ripped back at her. “You, on the other hand, argue vapor and fairy tales.”

  Myndo started to reply, but the Primus raised his hand to stop her. “We know well your opinions on this subject, Precentor Dieron. Precentor Sian, do you think there was a chance that Malenkov could have forged or tampered with Xiang’s verigraph to communicate information to the Federated Suns?”

  “Forgery, no. There is no way he could have forged a message. This is, after all, a verigraph.” The small man hesitated as he pondered the second half of the question. “As for tampering with it, that could be possible. My people reported he was nervous, but we assumed that was because he is a Davion agent. Face it. Having us refuse to take the message from him because of his true allegiance could have destroyed him.”

  The Primus smiled easily, his sallow flesh gathering in flat wrinkles around the corners of his mouth. “Then the solution is simple. Duplicate the verigraph and send the duplicate. If Malenkov did something to it—like injecting a chemical dye that would react to another chemical—our scanning and duplication process will not pick it up. A duplicate should take care of your concerns, shouldn’t it, Precentor Dieron?”

  “Should it?” Myndo balled her fists in frustration. “We don’t know the genesis of this message. What if Malenkov suggested it to Xiang? What if he advised Xiang on the wording? What if he did forge a new message?”

  The Primus smiled deprecatingly. “What if Malenkov had General Kerensky return and bring him a Star League-vintage verigraph forging machine?”

  Myndo fumed inwardly. You bastard! You back them just to take a cut at me. Very well. You’ve outmaneuvered me this time, but not again. “I acquiesce, Primus, and bow to your superior wisdom. You are correct. This message can do no harm—unless, of course, Malenkov did manage the impossible. As impossible as someone smuggling weapons onto our island at last year’s wedding, perhaps?”

  Her reminder of the previous summer’s security fiasco stung all present, but Myndo realized that it also galvanized their opposition to her. She did not allow defeat to show on her face, however. I will remember this, all of you. If the impossible has occurred, I will not let up until it has destroyed every one of you.

  Chapter 32

  NEW AVALON

  CRUCIS MARCH

  FEDERATED SUNS

  6 AUGUST 3029

  The fear that had coiled like a snake about to strike now sunk its fangs into Hanse Davion. “Say that again, Quintus. They’re going to hit Kathil?”

  The spymaster nodded grimly. Color had drained from his face, leaving it half a shade darker than his white hair. The verigraph he held in his hand trembled, as did the older man’s lower lip. “He buried it well inside this note. This one paragraph is not remarkable in context, but it contains all the key words. ‘A bird without wings cannot fly, but what need have we of clipping wings if we scale the cliff and fire the nest? Before this is ended, Father, I wish I could see your face one more time. We have come far, you and I, and are now just opposite sides of the same coin.’” The old man looked up from the message in his hand. “It sounds so like Justin.”

  Hanse sank back into his leather chair. “Kathil. Has Max gone completely over the edge? If he destroys the factories at Kathil, he’ll be strangling mankind’s travel between the stars.”

  Quintus looked up. “Forgive me, Highness, but the code word for factories did not appear in the message. A reference to eggs would have indicated an involvement with the factories. I have to interpret ‘fire the nest’ to mean they will hit the generators or subassembly facilities on the world itself. That would slow us down without destroying a most precious resource.”

  Hanse frowned deeply. “What could they use to hit Kathil?”

  An angry anxious expression congealed on Quintus’s face. “I have to believe they’ll use the best they have left. I know where McCarron’s Armored Cavalry is, so it’s not going to be them. The units will probably come from Sian, and that would have to mean House Imarra troops or the Death Commandos.”

  H
anse slammed his right fist against the top of his desk. “And we still only have militia protecting the world?”

  Quintus nodded ruefully. “If Liao has been able to set up a command circuit directed at Kathil, they could be there next week. Our own force scheduled to show up there is without transport. Ever since we stripped some ships off to our rotation circuits to carry Melissa back to the Commonwealth, we’ve got nothing close enough to get them there.”

  Hanse sat and stared at his balled fists, letting the silence hang heavily in the air. The ambitions of a petty Lyran noble makes him do one thing, and that creates the potential for disaster here in the Federated Suns. The desire for little personal victories inspires this raid on Kathil, but it also got ComStar to pass this important message on to us without realizing its importance.

  Hanse swallowed hard. “Well, my friend, we’d best find any troops in the area that we can deliver posthaste. And we better pray they can stop Liao’s raiders, because otherwise we’ll lose everything we’ve won this past year and then some.”

  Rays from the setting sun lanced through the tall windows of Hanse Davion’s office, stretching the Prince’s shadow so it touched the doors to his office. The Prince, his face shadowed, looked up as Quintus Allard escorted Kym Sorenson into the room. “Thank you for coming on such short notice, Lady Sorenson.”

  She curtsied, then blushed. Her long blond hair was gathered back, and she wore faded trousers and an oversized shirt emblazoned with the crest of the Davion Heavy Guards. “Forgive my appearance, Highness. I came as soon as the Minister called me, I…”

  Hanse forced a smile and raised a hand to forestall her explanation. “No need to apologize. This is a situation that calls for a swift response, not protocol or ceremony.” Hanse hesitated for a moment, searching through the different ways he had thought to ask his question. He rejected all his previous ideas and waved her toward a chair. “Please, Kym, be seated.”

  She stiffened. “Highness, if this is about Morgan, I think I should remain standing.” She tugged nervously on the ends of her shirt, pulling it tight at the shoulders.

  Realizing the reason for her anxiety, the Prince said quickly, “Nothing has happened to Morgan, Kym. He’s fine.” The Prince looked beyond her toward the closed doors and Quintus Allard. “In fact, he’s waiting to speak with me as soon as I have spoken with you, though he does not know you are here.”

  Relief flooded her pretty face, bringing back animation and color. “Thank you, Highness.”

  Don’t thank me yet. Your feelings for him are obvious. How have they affected your mission? “There is no easy way for me to ask you this, Kym, so forgive my clumsy approach.” He looked into her blue eyes. “Can Morgan be trusted with troops in the Capellan March?”

  It pleased the Prince that she met his gaze without flinching. “Highness, if you have another subject who is more loyal and trustworthy than Morgan Hasek-Davion, you are unique and blessed among the rulers of the Successor States.” Kym stopped as emotion choked her, and she turned slightly away.

  Hanse granted her the time to recover. Wiping away tears with the sleeve of her shirt, she turned back. “Forgive me.”

  “Nothing to forgive, Kym.”

  She smiled weakly, took in a deep breath and calmed herself. “In my opinion, Prince Hanse, you have nothing to fear from entrusting troops to Morgan.”

  Hanse narrowed his eyes. “He’s not had contacts with dissidents in the Capellan March? He’s not anxious to take his father’s place as their leader? The death of the Fifth Syrtis Fusiliers affected him deeply…”

  Anger flashed in Kym’s eyes, but she stopped herself before letting it form into words. “Highness, you have no idea the conflicts Morgan has fought within himself over the years. His father’s death hurt him deeply. The loss saddened him because he loved his father, and also because he realized his father was foolish and disloyal. Ultimately, Morgan accepted responsibility for his father’s death because he believed he had not worked hard enough to bring the two of you back together.”

  Hanse shook his head. “There is no way he could have healed that rift.”

  “I know that,” Kym said, “but Morgan doesn’t see it that way. He’s constantly struggling to atone for his father’s mistakes and to prove himself worthy of the honor of being named your heir. The destruction of the Fifth Syrtis hurt him because it was another link lost with his father. More importantly, though, he knew that had he been commanding that force, he would have crushed McCarron’s Armored Cavalry. It tore him up to think an idiot like Hartstone would embarrass you so.”

  Kym half-turned so she could see both men. “You have asked if Morgan has communicated with Capellan March dissidents. He has.” She ignored the shocked looks on the two men’s faces. “He’s told them to go to hell. After his father’s death, Count Anton Vitios pledged his personal support to Morgan. Morgan’s reply was short and succinct: ‘The Capellan March is now and forever shall be a loyal part of the Federated Suns. If you want to shed your blood on the altar of separatism, you’ll find my hand on the knife.’”

  Hanse saw the smile on Quintus Allard’s face and it mirrored his own. “Your words, your tone, your eyes tell me that what you say is the truth.” Hanse’s smile grew as he felt a heavy weight falling away from his heart. “I’ve always hoped what you’ve said about Morgan was true, but I feared he might be his father’s son in more than blood.” Hanse crossed to Kym and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Thank you. I owe you a debt I can never repay you.’”

  Her gaze searched his face for a moment. “There is something you can do for me.”

  “Name it.”

  Kym glanced at Quintus. “I will continue to work for you in the NAIS until the war is ended. After that, I will terminate my service with the MIIO.” She looked up into Hanse’s ice blue eyes. “Never tell Morgan I spied on him for you. I love him too much to see him hurt that way.”

  Hanse smiled and enfolded her in a hug. “Neither one of us wants him hurt, Kym. Your secret is safe.”

  Pulling back, she smiled, then glanced down as tears rolled from her eyes. “When does he ship out?”

  So quick, so smart. Your departure from the MIIO will be a great loss. Hanse brushed her tears away. “You’ll have tonight…some of it, at least.” He put an arm over her shoulders and gave her a squeeze as he directed her to the side door of his office. “From here, you can leave the palace without Morgan seeing you.”

  Kym opened the door, then turned to the Prince again. “Morgan will do whatever you ask of him, or die trying. I hope this is worth it.”

  Hanse nodded solemnly. “It is. If he falls, the Federated Suns falls with him.”

  Chapter 33

  NEW AVALON

  CRUCIS MARCH

  FEDERATED SUNS

  6 AUGUST 3029

  Hanse Davion accepted Morgan Hasek-Davion’s proffered hand gladly. He met and matched his nephew’s firm grip and pumped his arm strongly. He sensed in Morgan the ability and strength to crush his hand, but felt no concern. From what Kym just said, Morgan would strike off the offending limb before harming me.

  Hanse waved Morgan to a chair. “Please, Morgan, be seated. I must speak with you about something urgent.”

  Morgan sat down, his long red-gold hair falling over the shoulders of his olive-drab jumpsuit. The fabric pulled taut over his massive chest, revealing the outline of a cooling vest underneath. He did not relax, but sat forward on the edge of the chair, following Hanse’s pacing with restless green eyes.

  Feet shoulder-width apart, Hanse clasped his hands at the small of his back, then turned to face Morgan. “I have a confession to make to you. Sixteen years ago, my brother Ian died in a war with House Kurita. Perhaps he was foolish to place himself in such jeopardy, but that was his right as the Prince of the Federated Suns. Right or wrong, his action left him vulnerable, and when he died, it placed me on the throne…”

  Morgan shook his head almost imperceptibly. “You don’t have to do
this, Hanse.”

  Yes I do, Morgan. As much for me as for you. As Hanse forced himself to smile, Morgan settled back in his chair. Hanse glanced at Quintus and bade him sit as well.

  “Before that, I had never given much thought to ruling the Federated Suns because I was not raised for that job. I studied to be a military man, and I discovered, soon enough, that tactics and strategy mean little in the political arena. My brother’s last heartbeat moved me from the world of battles waged in the open to a realm where you often don’t see the attack until it’s too late.”

  The Prince smiled at his nephew. “I never much liked your father, but I respected the hell out of his ability to create alliances and form power coalitions. When he and I struggled over who would actually sit on Ian’s throne, I think my lack of guile threw him off. He spent so much time and energy looking for my hidden attacks that he let my frontal assaults weaken him. The only political lesson I had ever learned was that you can’t fight a dead man, so I used the image of my brother’s trust in me to keep a Davion on the throne.

  “Over the years, I’ve learned more about politics, and the paranoia that made your father vulnerable began to infect me, too. I looked at you and took all the myriad signs of your loyalty and friendship for a façade hiding a possible plot for my downfall. I should have realized sooner, much sooner, that in you I was seeing the image of myself before Ian’s death. I’m sorry it took so long for me to see.”

  Morgan looked down at his hands. “All I’ve ever wanted was to be a friend you could trust.”

  Hanse swallowed against the lump in his throat. “I know. For the record, I realize now that it wasn’t my fear of your following in your father’s footsteps that prevented me from giving you a combat assignment in this war. Nor was I afraid of what might happen were you captured or killed by Liao forces.” He looked into Morgan’s eyes. “The truth is, I couldn’t bear the idea of losing such a close friend.”