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

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Myndo preempted his desire to follow up with a defense against her attack. “I have, in fact, begun a dialog with the Prince of the Federated Suns. We have reached an agreement, in principle, to lift the interdiction.”

  Ulthan Everson, the golden-haired precentor from Tharkad, leaned forward. “How now? You were the one who pressed so fervently for the interdiction. The Federated Suns has all but snapped up the Capellan Confederation, but the interdiction has slowed the pace of war considerably. Why are you going to lift the interdiction now?”

  Myndo folded her hands into the sleeves of her robe. “It’s rather plain, isn’t it? The Prince, after perhaps one more wave of attacks, will no longer pursue the war. The Free Worlds League is moving to snap up worlds if Liao shifts its forces to fight Davion’s invaders, but the Prince would never dream of letting Janos Marik steal worlds away from him for so little cost. Further, if he leaves part of the Confederation alive, it will force Marik to maintain troops on that border to face any Liao threat. These are fewer troops for Davion to worry about on his border with the Free Worlds League.

  “Lastly, Princess Melissa is pregnant. Hanse Davion will move to solidify his holdings so that his child will have a stable realm to govern. The Capellan Confederation, when the time is right, will be an excellent straw man against which to direct his people if divisions develop within the Federated Suns.”

  She surprised herself when she saw Precentor Tharkad nodding agreement with her arguments. Huthrin Vandel smiled and asked with his eyes to be recognized. “Precentor New Avalon?”

  The black-haired man nodded. “Thank you. Perhaps, Primus, you might mention what concessions you have exacted from Hanse Davion in return for lifting the interdiction.”

  Myndo kept herself from smiling. “Because the interdiction was initiated in response to an attack by House Davion troops on one of our stations, I have demanded and won an agreement to rebuild that station and to upgrade a number of stations, all at the expense of the Federated Suns.”

  She allowed the assembly a second or two of murmured comments before she dropped the larger bombshell. “I also have won from the Prince the right for ComStar to station armed forces, ’Mech forces, within the precincts of our stations!”

  The other precentors looked stunned, and Villius Tejh rubbed at his chest as if this time he were succumbing to a heart attack. Myndo raised her chin high. “Yes. We will station troops on every world where we have a station. At first, we will make do with mercenaries, but slowly, over the next ten or twenty years, we will bring our own, ‘newly trained’ troops into place at the stations. They will be there for self-protection, of course, but they will be there nonetheless. We will expand this policy from the Federated Suns into the other Successor States on a gradual basis. An attack on us in the future—real or created—will mean that an interdiction by ComStar is far more dangerous than it has ever been in the past.”

  Anger gathered on Tejh’s face like a thundercloud on the horizon. “Jerome Blake bade us to keep our strength hidden so that we could employ it when mankind had ripped itself apart. ‘We are the savior, not the warrior; we heal, we do not destroy,’ he said.”

  Myndo’s confident smile swallowed his protest whole. “And the aggressor we will not be. We will be a presence that can step in to end the depredations of local tyrants. We can repulse raids and respond to natural disasters. We will be seen as an active agent in protecting the weak and the helpless. In this way, we will train the new generations of people to look to us for salvation even before the dark times begin.”

  Myndo’s dark eyes narrowed. “Mark me. The technological decay Blake predicted will not occur because of Hanse Davion’s farsightedness. As technology grows, so grows the power it creates. As in the past, this power will bring moral corruption and another collapse. Instead of waiting for mankind to return to flint knives and bearskins, as Blake feared we would need to do, we need only wait for man’s lust for power to doom him.

  “ComStar, in our lifetimes, will be in a position to save mankind from itself—whether it wants salvation or not.”

  Epilogue

  SIAN

  SIAN COMMONALITY

  CAPELLAN CONFEDERATION

  15 DECEMBER 3029

  Despair washed over Romano Liao’s face as she entered the throne room and saw her father staring at the screen of the holovid viewer he’d ordered placed near the throne. The image’s back glow etched deep lines in her father’s haggard face and burned brassy hues into his newly whitened hair. His hands clutched the arms of the throne with the fierce desperation of a drowning man hanging on to a raft. Romano knew that in his battle with the yawning abyss of insanity, Maximilian Liao was losing.

  Losing badly. She quickly went to her father’s side to get him away from the electronic succubus that had drained him, but she made the mistake of glancing at the screen before trying to shut the machine off. The image seduced her as well.

  Hanse Davion, seated behind his desk, dressed conservatively in the dark blue uniform of the Davion Heavy Guards, smiled out at the viewers. The smile seemed genuine enough, with none of the Fox’s guile hiding behind those blue eyes.

  “And so, once again, Maximilian, I wish to thank you very much for taking such excellent care of my good friend, Justin Xiang Allard. I especially wish to express my gratitude for your having brought him to my wedding. That was an unexpected pleasure and a great boon to me. In case you were unaware, Justin has the guts of a laser rifle built into his left arm. A remarkable thing, really. He used it on the island to kill the assassin your daughter Romano had sent to kill his father. A good thing, too, or you would have been placed under an interdiction, and heaven only knows how that would have hurt your war effort.”

  Mortification ran through Romano like an electric shock. Unconsciously, her hand rose to her right cheek as she recalled Justin Xiang striking her for trying to kill his father. I should have known then that he was a traitor! Candace must have known all along and used him as her conduit to make an agreement with Hanse Davion. The St. Ives Compact…what a laugh!

  She stiffened as her father uttered a low moan. In the holovid, the Hanse Davion seated at the desk looked up as another man moved into the frame. “Did I do it well, my Prince?” he asked.

  The real Hanse Davion nodded beneficently and helped his double out of the chair. Seating himself, the Prince smiled coldly.

  “You’ve wondered all along, haven’t you, why I struck at you? He is the reason. Not because you tried to supplant me with him. No, that was an excellent stratagem, and one that nearly worked. For that, I salute you.”

  The Prince’s eyes flashed like arctic storms. “I went after you because you dared, in your attempt to get me, to destroy him. You robbed him of his face, of his memories, of his life. If you could do that, if you could steal from a person all that makes him an individual—claiming it is for the good of the state—there is no telling what other inhuman acts you could justify in your mind. For that, I had to break your power, and that is what I have done.”

  Hanse glanced out of the frame toward where his double had gone. “We will rebuild him and try to make him whole again. We will do the same with those of your people we have liberated. But for you, and your dreams of being the First Lord of a new Star League, there is no cure. Goodbye.”

  Anger flashed through Romano at her father’s first pathetic sob. She lashed out with her foot, exploding the holovid viewer in a green flash of flame. The disk Justin had left behind shot from the machine and rolled into the shadows along the wall. Spinning about, she raised her hand to slap her father out of his weeping, but in his helplessness, he touched even her.

  Her hand fell to her side. She mounted the steps to the throne itself and took her father by the elbow. She led him down the steps, then clapped her hands twice. Tsen Shang, his right arm out of the cast that had confined it while the shoulder joint replacement surgery had healed, entered the chamber. He was flanked by two Maskirovka guards.

&nb
sp; Shang bowed to her. “How may I be of service, Madam Chancellor?”

  Romano smiled at the title. “My father, as you can see, has eluded his nurses again. Please see to it that he is returned to his suite and that he does not get out again.” She hesitated for a second, then nodded. “They may restrain him if they feel they must.”

  Shang nodded. “I will instruct them to use discretion.” Leading Maximilian Liao away, Tsen Shang and his guards withdrew from the throne room.

  Romano turned and stared at the smoking ruins of the holovid viewer. So smug, so confident. You have lived up to your nickname of “the Fox,” Hanse Davion. This I can respect.

  She smiled cruelly. “Respect, but not forgive.”

  Romano Liao, Madam Chancellor of the Capellan Confederation, mounted the stairs to her throne. Seated there, alone in the shadowed, silent hall, she contemplated the dark and bloody future of her realm.

  And she smiled.

  Technical Readout

  About the Author

  Michael A. Stackpole is the multiple New York Times bestselling author of more than forty fantasy and science fiction novels. His best known books were written in the Star Wars® universe, including I, Jedi and the Rogue Squadron series, as well as the X-Wing graphic novel series. He has also written in the Conan, Pathfinder, BattleTech, Shadowrun, and World of Warcraft universes, among others.

  * * *

  Other honors include induction into the Academy Gaming Arts and Design Hall of Fame, a Parsec Award for “Best Podcast Short Story,” and a Topps’s selection as Best Star Wars® Comic Book Writer. He is the first author to sell work in Apple’s App Store, and he’s been an advocate for authors taking advantage of the digital revolution. Learn more about Michael and his work at www.stormwolf.com.

  LETHAL HERITAGE

  By Michael A. Stackpole

  Book One of the Blood of Kerensky Trilogy

  A DANGEROUS NEW ENEMY APPROACHES…

  * * *

  Two decades after the events that nearly brought the Successor States to the brink of war, the Great Houses now co-exist in an uneasy peace.

  But then, from out beyond the Periphery comes a new threat. A swift-moving military force of unknown origin.

  Nothing the Inner Sphere has can stop them. Their power, speed, and ferocity are unparalleled. Some of the finest warriors and ablest units have challenged them and been crushed. No force has faced them and won.

  They are the Clans! A military juggernaut whose sole reason for existence is battle. A race that selectively breeds itself for combat.

  Humanity’s only hope is an alliance of mortal enemies. The Federated Commonwealth and the Draconis Combine, interstellar empires at war for 300 years, must now stand side-by-side—or face certain destruction.

  OUTREACH

  TIKONOV FREE REPUBLIC

  16 AUGUST 3030

  The fiery-haired mercenary Natasha Kerensky walked into Colonel Jaime Wolf’s office without knocking or hesitation. She held the yellow sheet of paper out for his inspection, but he looked straight through it and her. Seated behind a cluttered desk, he leaned back in his chair and pressed his hands together, fingertip to fingertip. Only the rise and fall of his chest told her he was alive.

  She kept her voice soft and friendly—both of a volume and tone her troops would have sworn she could never manage—and placed the paper on his desk. “I thought you’d want to see this immediately, Jaime. It came in over Field Marshal Ardan Sortek’s signature. The Tikonov Republic has, at Prince Hanse Davion’s suggestion, given us free and clear title to Outreach.”

  The news brought animation back to Wolf’s face. Though a small man, he gave off an aura of strength and his presence was commanding. Still, long years of almost constant warfare had taken their toll. His once-black hair was shot through with white, while the lines around his eyes and creasing his forehead showed how heavy had been the weight of his burdens. The slump in his shoulders told that he knew more difficulties were in the offing, but the glint in his gray eyes left no doubt that he would face what he must.

  He gave the Black Widow a smile. “Yes, Natasha. Thank you. This is welcome news indeed.”

  Kerensky glanced out through the arched window near Wolf’s desk. “I thought we’d have had more trouble getting this world for our home. I assumed Hanse Davion would be determined to keep it once he heard we wanted it.”

  Wolf shrugged. “Davion is well aware that Outreach was once the Warrior World. He knows that the Star League’s Army used to hold their martial Olympics here and that not quite all of the useful equipment has been stripped from it in the three centuries since General Kerensky and his Star League troops left the Inner Sphere forever.”

  The dying sun burned highlights into Kerensky’s hair as she turned to face him. “Do you think Davion knows exactly how much equipment is left? He’d surely have asked Quintus Allard to send some of his damnable operatives here to see what we would be getting.”

  The leader of Wolf’s Dragoons smiled like a man with a secret. “Hanse has lived up to his nickname of ‘the Fox’ rather admirably on this one. Quintus Allard asked us to complete a technological survey because he claimed he couldn’t spare an agent for Outreach at this time. Hanse must certainly expect that we’ve withheld some information, but I don’t think it matters to him. He’s happy to have us here because it prevents local rebellions or a strike from the Free Worlds League. The report we sent back to Allard should be enough to quiet any complaints that we were handed a treasure trove of lostech.”

  The use of the idiom for valuable technology lost after the fall of the Star League era brought a brief smile to Kerensky’s full lips, but her tone was worried. “Is our own survey complete yet? Is there enough equipment here for our needs?”

  Wolf shook his head and steepled his fingers again. “It looks as though things like computers and obvious manufacturing resources were carried off long ago, but I don’t think anyone out there even guesses at the vast complex of stuff under the surface here. We’ve got the facilities we need to repair and manufacture BattleMechs. But whether it’s enough to complete our mission is hard to say.”

  She fairly trembled with irritation. “You can’t still be clinging to the idea that we have a mission, can you? We’ve done what they required of us. I say we should get ourselves healthy, get our machines at a hundred and ten percent, and then go kick some tail!”

  The Widow’s outburst made Wolf smile in spite of himself. “Natasha,” he said quietly, “I’d like nothing better, but you know I can’t agree to that. You also know that the others won’t be able to stop them. We’ve been entrusted with a duty that we cannot abandon.”

  Natasha leaned forward over his desk. “It’s impossible, Jaime. That’s what I know. For the last twenty-five years, we’ve fought for every Great House in the Inner Sphere, and we’ve fought against every House, too. We know their strengths and weaknesses. We know it’s hopeless...”

  Wolf stood abruptly and paced the length of the room. “It’s not hopeless, Natasha. Some of them show promise. We have a place to start.”

  Her sharp laugh brought him up short. “Did you just miss the last two years, Jaime? Two years of a war that’s left everything changed, including us! The Capellan Confederation has all but fallen to the Federated Suns. The Draconis Combine has been hit hard and lost dozens of worlds and crack units. The Lyran Commonwealth was almost split apart by the war, not to mention the death of Frederick Steiner and the loss of his Tenth Lyran Guards in the suicidal attack on Dromini VI. As for the Free Worlds League, ha! Their government is so bound by red tape that they couldn’t even mount a defense against the Tikonov Free Republic’s troops, and we both know that the province of Andurien is going to secede before year’s end with no trouble at all. Hanse Davion may have planned this war well, and his Federated Suns come out the big winner, but he’s razed his economy and his people are afraid of another ComStar Interdiction.

  “In short, my friend, the Successor States
have clubbed themselves senseless.”

  Wolf’s eyes flashed at her badgering tone. “That’s all well and good, Natasha, but haven’t you left out some of the more important factors that concern us? The Successor States might be in sad shape, but not so all of the military. The Kell Hounds survived the war in good shape, as have the Eridani Light Horse and the Northwind Highlanders. I’ll admit they’re not enough to do everything, but it’s a place to start.”

  Natasha seated herself on the edge of Wolf’s desk, watching him pace. “You’re not thinking of bringing them here to train, are you? You wouldn’t compromise our security that way—!” Suddenly she slapped the palm of her right hand against her forehead. “You are planning to do that, aren’t you? That’s why Morgan Kell and his wife Salome are already heading here from their JumpShip. Are you mad? How much does Kell know?”

  Wolf drew himself up to his full height. “Morgan Kell knows what I have trusted him with—and trust him I do. He and Salome are coming here so we can run some tests and help them with an infertility problem.”

  The Black Widow’s mouth gaped open. “You told them about...”

  The small man shook his head. “No, I’ve not told Morgan everything, though I imagine he has figured out what I didn’t. The man is a friend and I’ve decided to help him. He is also a MechWarrior of great skill and courage. While I do not plan to bring his Kell Hounds here to train, I believe Morgan might be persuaded to prepare his forces to help us when the time comes. Furthermore, I think he would be willing to let us train certain of his people so that what we know can be passed on to others without jeopardizing our security.”