Galen's reply came after a moment or two of thought. "If he'd been running on magscan, he would have seen us and had us at a disadvantage. He must have been using infrared scanning, and the hot water helped us dissipate our heat signatures. If we hadn't ambushed him, I think we'd have been in trouble. Despite all the shooting he did in that fight, he never heated up."
Victor nodded to himself. If not for Cox keeping him busy and a couple of lucky shots from me, that monster would have eaten me alive. As it is, I've lost chunks of armor over my chest and right leg. The armor on Galen's Crusader has likewise been reduced to paper-thinness over his right torso and left leg. These raiders are tough, but at least they're not invincible. "I agree, Mr. Cox. I'm going to radio LeftenantGeneral Hawksworth and see if he can give us a clear route to the battalion."
Victor punched two buttons on his command console and opened a tactical frequency directly to the regimental headquarters. "Badger One to Den Mother, come in. I need a new vector to the front."
General Hawksworth's voice sounded tight with tension. "Negative, Badger One. You are to return to the Den immediately. That goes for Badger Two as well."
Victor frowned. "Say again, Den Mother." Victor toggled a radio filter on and off, letting static break up the communication. "I'm getting static here. Please repeat."
"Don't play games with me, Badger. I know all about filter switching when you hear orders you don't like. That trick got old with Redburn on St. Andre in the Fourth War. Repeat, report to the Den immediately. I want you here."
Victor swallowed hard. "Roger, Den Mother. Reporting home immediately."
Victor left his BattleMech standing next to a Leopard Class DropShip. He clambered quickly down the rope ladder from the cockpit and tossed his neurohelmet to a startled Tech as he sprinted to the low, squat building that served as the regiment's brain center during times of battle. Like a lean greyhound, Galen Cox followed on Victor's heels.
The cavernous room resounded with echoed fragments of desperate radio reports and requests for reinforcement. In the eerie glow of radar screens and holographic display units, the communications specialists looked especially haggard. They nodded in concert with demands for support, then punched buttons to shift the calls to others who could better deal with the problem.
As Victor pulled on a parka over his cooling vest, he saw why Hawksworth had called him back to the base. Someone has to organize this place. We can't mount a defense with everything running riot the way it is here. He spotted Hawksworth hunched over a tactical display unit and cut straight through the crowd toward him. "Kommandant Davion reporting, sir."
Hawksworth listlessly returned his salute. The normally jovial man had been drained of all good humor. Strands of white hair fanned down over his brow and sweat dripped from his nose. "No beating around the bush, Kommandant. You saw that Leopard out there?"
"Yes, sir. I left my Victor beside it."
"Good. Get on it." The Leftenant-General looked up past Victor. "You too, Cox. Both of you. Get the hell out of here."
"No!" Victor's shout cut through the din filling the room. "I will not go! My battalion is out there getting cut to ribbons. I won't abandon them."
The General straightened up, fire returning to his eyes. "You will do as I order, Kommandant! You and Hauptmann Cox will get aboard the Hejira now and let it take you to the JumpShip Strongbow. You're leaving."
Victor clenched his fists, but refrained from slamming them into the tactical display table. "No. You can't send me away. If you do, we'll lose this fight."
"We'll lose it anyway." Hawksworth thrust a trembling finger at the tactical display. "We're falling back on all fronts. The circle is tightening around us like a noose. These Jade Falcons hit at incredible ranges and pick our defenses apart. I've got more casualties in the first three hours of fighting than I've had in the four years I've been on Trellwan. And they're only fighting us with three dozen 'Mechs and some crazy infantry unit in body armor."
Victor felt his heart begin to pound as Hawksworth spouted his litany of disaster. "Think, Leftenant-General! Do you want to be remembered by history as the man who lost Trell I, or do you want praise for defeating these invincible raiders?"
Muscles bunched at Hawksworth's jaw. "I'll be known as the man who lost Trell I. There's nothing I can do about that now." He met Victor's cold gray stare without flinching. "But I will not be known as the man who got Hanse Davion's heir killed."
"NO!" Victor stabbed a finger into the older man's chest. "Don't do that to me, General. Don't use my father against me. Don't be a fool." Victor looked down at the holographic map. "Galen and I met and blasted one of the raiders here in Thunder Rift. The terrain and obstructions bring everything down to a close range, and our people can fight that way. Pull units back into that cavern complex and into the Black Mountain foothills. We have to adopt guerrilla tactics to defeat these people, and we can do it. Dammit, man! Fight them! And let me fight them, too!"
"I'm sorry, Victor. If we had known, if we had more time, your plan might work. Hell, it might yet work, but I can't bet your life on it." The older man looked up. "You'll get your chance. And when you do, I pray you have more courage than I do. Good-bye, Highness." To Cox, Hawksworth added, "Get him out of here."
Before he could say anything, Victor felt himself spun about. Galen Cox's fist flying toward his chin formed the last vision of Trell I that Victor Steiner-Davion ever saw.
18
ComStar First Circuit Compound
Hilton Head Island, North America, Terra
15 April 3050
Myndo Waterly directed the attention of the Precentors to the center of the chamber. "We received this transmission from our facility on Balsta yesterday. I have reviewed it once and now present it for your edification. The message is relatively short, and in the Precentor Martial's style, somewhat succinct."
She clapped her hands once, sharply, and the lights in the bowl-shaped chamber dimmed. Directly above the gold-star insignia of ComStar worked into the floor, the image of the Precentor Martial flickered to holographic life. The image only showed him from the shoulders up and had been so enlarged that his eyepatch was the size of an aircar's steering wheel.
"The Peace of Blake be with you, Primus. I bring you greetings from Ulric, the Khan of the Wolf Clan. He has graciously consented to the transmission of this message, provided I release no useful military data. He does not suspect us of duplicity, but prefers not to give the appearance of breaching his own security."
Focht adjusted the patch over his right eye. "In the three months I have been here, I've been given freedom to monitor virtually all operations that are military in nature, while being kept out of harm's way on Ulric's flagship. The Wolf Clan fields a superior military force in both tactics and equipment, which has made short work of opposition. They have been inordinately fair in accepting surrenders, and the only plunder they take from conquered worlds is in the form of slaves—though they call them bondsmen. Besides becoming an involuntary workforce, these captives also play the role of hostages against the good behavior of the people of their former homeworlds."
The Precentor Martial dipped his head in a bow, then lifted his head and gazed out of the hologram at the Primus. "My attempts to discern their intent have been met with polite evasion, though some interest has been expressed in our assistance. I have heard strange references to a massive migration following the invading forces, but Ulric denies it. Still, there is a curious lack of common folk aboard the ships I have visited. This is definitely an army on the move. And on the move quickly.
"Though they attempt to hide it, there is an apparent rivalry between the different groups in the invasion force. Representatives of other clans are present on Wolf ships, and the Khan of Khans, the ilKhan, resides on Ulric's flagship even though the ilKhan is of the Smoke Jaguar clan. Despite the distance between his clan and the Wolf clan, Leo ilKhan is in daily contact with his people and apparently directs their efforts in the Draconis C
ombine."
Focht rubbed at his good eye, then allowed himself to smile. "The Clanspeople are an interesting lot. Many are good-natured, though all are cold and competent when in battle. Trading verbal barbs and other forms of surrogate combat are popular here, and bondsmen see their share of abuse, but the damage done is rarely serious. And even what we consider a serious injury is of little consequence to these people. I have heard of a broken spine being repaired, and one Medtech even commented that he could have restored my eye if he had been present at the time I lost it."
The Precentor Martial glanced out of the frame, then nodded. "I will be permitted to contact you from our next site. The Wolves have agreed to leave our stations operating in exchange for a promise that we kill all military intelligence being sent out by partisans. I have given such orders to the facility manager here, and he has further passed the order to the other worlds the Wolves have taken. Ulric understands, of course, that you have the final authority on that. If you choose to overrule my action, Ulric will order that the ComStar facilities be isolated, but he will respect our peaceful sovereignty."
The image vanished, plunging the room into darkness for a second or two before the lights came up. Myndo surveyed the faces of the First Circuit members and was pleased at the shocked expressions. They knew I had sent the Precentor Martial as my personal ambassador to the invaders, but they did not expect me to authorize him to offer them intelligence to further their conquests. She smiled benignly. "Comments?"
Ulthan Everson, the burly Precentor from Tharkad, lifted his hand slightly. "By touching his face during that transmission, Focht let us know he was being monitored. In light of that, I am surprised that Ulric allowed him to speak so frankly about the taking of slaves and the political divisions between the clans."
Diminutive and fragile behind her crystalline podium, the Precentor from the Capellan capital of Sian shook her head in disagreement. "Could it not be, Precentor Tharkad, that Ulric wished us to know that he is a power to be reckoned with even if he is not the ilKhan? That Ulric has this Leo in his power suggests a compromise somewhere in the past. Why else would the Khan of Khans consent to command his clan from a flagship far away from the battle?"
Myndo smiled as Sharilar Mori, the woman who had succeeded her as Precentor of Dieron, accepted Precentor Sian's challenge. "I would suggest, Jen Li, that the answer to your question is of greater concern to us than any political infighting in the invader camp. The fact that Leo is in daily contact with his forces—forces operating over 130 light years from him—must imply that these clans have HyperPulse Generators, and are well versed in their use."
Myndo lowered her eyelids, which gave her face a catlike air. HyperPulse Generators are what give ComStar power among the Successor States. It is the HPG that allows us to send instantaneous messages between planets up to 50 light years apart. We alone know how to make and operate them, and thus everyone else is dependent on our services. Through us flows great power because we have control of communications between the stars.
The sleeves of his scarlet robe flopping down around his wrists, Everson leaned forward on his podium. "I do not think we have to worry about these invaders as a rival to our services, Precentor Dieron. The Jade Falcon clan has already taken ten Steiner worlds, including the deep strike at Trell I. And the Wolves who are so politely hosting the Precentor Martial have taken the worlds of Icar and Chateau. This is more of an emergency than any competition they might offer our Order."
Gardner Riis, the lanky, platinum-haired Precentor of Rasalhague, also stared harshly at Sharilar. "I, too, must direct your attention to the worlds that have been taken. Between attacks by the Wolves and the Ghost Bears, the Rasalhague Republic has lost eleven planets. The military threat is paramount."
Myndo raised a hand, letting the sleeve of her gold silk robe slide down to her elbow. "Cease this squabbling so that we can review the facts of this invasion and assess its true danger." She nodded at Everson. "We begin with you, Precentor Tharkad. What have these so-called clans taken and how have they done so?"
Everson's blue eyes darkened. "In a crescent from Barcelona up and around the rim of the Lyran Commonwealth, the Jade Falcons have taken Barcelona , Bone-Norman, Anywhere, Here, Bensinger, and Toland. Their thrust forward, which took place only two days ago, added Steelton, Persistence, Winfield, and Trell I to that list. The conquest of the last four worlds is not complete, but it appears inevitable. The Wolves, as I mentioned earlier, have taken Icar and Chateau."
The Primus turned her cool gaze on Everson. "Precentor Tharkad, Trell I was the world where Davion's first-born was stationed. What news of him?"
Everson addressed himself directly to her. "LeftenantGeneral Hawksworth evacuated Victor Davion about four hours into the battling and the invaders let him go. His DropShip is heading for the JumpShip Strongbow, which is expected to leave the system sometime tomorrow." The Primus looked at him, measuring the man. It was almost as though she knew what he might say, but she nodded for him to continue. "Apparently the Prince suggested a strategy to Hawksworth before being sent off, and the General has put it into play. The plan will not keep the Jade Falcons from taking the world from Steiner, but it will make it a costlier victory. Aside from that, the situation is very dark."
Bidden to speak by a gesture from the Primus, Riis recounted the losses for his state. "The Wolves have taken Skallevoll, Outpost, Svelvik, Alleghe, The Edge, New Caledonia, Balsta, and St. John. The Ghost Bears have taken Thule, Damian, and Holmsbu. In their March 7 attack on Thule, they missed a prize by sending only one flight of aerospace fighters to harry a DropShip heading outsystem. The Rasalhague Minister of Defense was aboard the ship, and his death would have utterly crippled the Republic."
Huthrin Vandel ran his fingers back through his black widow's-peak. "From the list of captured worlds, Precentor Rasalhague, one would think the Rasalhague Republic has no defenses at all."
Riis bristled at Precenter New Avalon's remarks, but restrained himself from an angry protest. "You seem to find this all so amusing, Vandel, but I daresay you would be singing a different tune if the Federated Suns had been invaded." He glanced up at the Primus. "The invaders have ripped through Rasalhague's troops rather easily, but are magnanimous in accepting surrender. The only exception to this rule concerns mercenaries. The clans, especially the Ghost Bears, seem to take a dim view of soldiers selling their services for money. There are no reports of prisoners being executed, but the clans have stripped captured mercs of their 'Mechs, effectively ending their careers."
Myndo cocked her head, but the utter confidence of her expression belied either curiosity or distress. "How has this affected other mercenary units? Do they hold firm or do some prefer retreat?"
Riis shrugged. "Most remain on garrison, probably because they are not aware of all the facts. As you know, information about the invasion has been limited in its publication. We of the First Circuit must surely have the best view of what is actually occurring. As you have instructed, only the government officials of each nation should know the extent of his losses, and each of them should imagine that only their area is hit. The general populace is not yet alarmed, and most believe that the loss of communications with a few rim worlds is nothing more serious than a raid by Periphery pirates."
Sharilar Mori laughed grimly. "I would say, Precentor Rasalhague, that if you truly believe Theodore Kurita and Hanse Davion have not guessed at the scope of the invasion, you are not fit for the position you currently hold. Neither of them is so foolish as to imagine that an invader of such might and skill would be daunted by borders drawn on a map or decided by treaty. I concede that none knows how far the invaders have come, but they can venture a very good guess."
Sharilar looked up at Myndo. "The Draconis Combine has lost seven worlds to the Smoke Jaguar clan. Because habitable worlds are more widely spaced in the region of the Combine bordering Rasalhague, the Smoke Jaguars did not have so broad a front to assault or they would probably have ta
ken even more planets. Richmond, Idle wind, Tarnby, Bjarred, and Schwartz fell easily. Rockland, a garrison planet on the Alshain border, made more of a fight of it, but the battle did not last long. On Turtle Bay, the Fourteenth Legion of Vega got ripped up, but did manage to inflict damage on the enemy. In addition, elements of the yakuza have created a guerrilla resistance there that is giving the Smoke Jaguars trouble. Though line units have left the first four worlds, the conquering troops are still on Turtle Bay two weeks after their initial victory."
Myndo folded her arms, slipping her hands into the voluminous sleeves of her golden robe. "What of Hohiro Kurita? Has there been no word?"
Sharilar shook her head. "My people have not located him or his body. It is possible he is among the throng of captives the Jaguars have taken, but we cannot get anyone in to see them. No matter our claims of neutrality, the local garrison commander claims his orders come from the ilKhan and he has not been given leave to grant the prisoners any visitors."
"Returning Theodore Kurita's son to him could win us many concessions from him, or even the Coordinator himself," the Primus said. "Is it possible for our ROM team to break Hohiro out of prison?"
Sharilar frowned. "The Adept in charge of the ROM cell says it is not. He points out that the prison housing the captured MechWarriors is the toughest maximum security facility in the Turtle Bay system. In fifty years, only one person ever escaped from it. He was shot in the stomach during the attempt and has not been heard from since he plunged into the Sawagashii River just outside the prison.
"Aside from that, Primus, to attempt such a rescue would easily poison our relationship with the clans. If it turns out that they cannot be stopped, the gratitude of Theodore and Takashi Kurita would be worthless."
Myndo smiled approvingly. "Well-spoken, Precentor Dieron. We must remain always a step ahead of events. In the meantime, what is your estimate for how long this yakuza resistance will last?"
Lethal heritage Page 17
