Lethal heritage

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Jesus Christ, what was that? Phelan shook himself as he unfolded his body and braced for a second impact or subsidiary explosion. He glanced over at the Precentor Martial. "You all right?"

  Focht reseated his eye-patch and nodded. "Yes, but our guide isn't. What happened?"

  Phelan shrugged as he crawled back to the man's unconscious form. He plucked the radio from his belt and flicked it on. "Damage control, get a team up here to the bridge. We have a problem. And get a medical team up here, too."

  "Who is this? Are you calling from the bridge?" Unbridled terror made the words crackle from the radio.

  "No. I'm in the corridor outside the bridge. Something exploded in there or hit it."

  The repair Tech's oath shouted from the radio. "Freebirth! Something opened a hole in the hull. The automatic systems are sealing it, but we have atmosphere loss. Team's on the way. Medical, too."

  The mercenary looked up at the Precentor Martial and shook his head. "If you have atmosphere loss, bring up EVA suits and extra oxygen gear."

  The Damage Control Officer's voice calmed considerably. "Confirmed, Commander. On the way."

  Focht smiled warily. "Commander. That's quite a promotion."

  The Kell Hound ignored the irony and concentrated on the greater significance of his promotion. "Damn, most of the Dire Wolfs senior officers were on the bridge. These Clansmen don't take well to surprises and they're always looking for orders from the folks above them. That's why this clown calls me a Commander—because I was giving him orders." He looked up at the one-eyed ComStar man. "Who's going to be giving orders to the folks who are supposed to keep us in one piece?"

  Before Focht could answer, the Damage Control Team arrived. Phelan thrust the radio into the Precentor Martial's hands. "See if you can raise Ranna on this thing. Tell her we need to know who's in charge, and if she can't come up with a good answer, tell her she's it." He hesitated. "That is, unless you want the job."

  Focht smiled warily. "I think, Phelan Kell, you have assumed that position already."

  The mercenary laughed harshly. "Fine. Then consider this delegation of authority. See what can be done."

  Phelan turned and crossed to where a Clan Tech had hitched up a piece of diagnostic equipment to the sonic lock beside the bridge's closed doors. "Freebirth!"

  "What's the problem?"

  "The bridge has been sealed and we have minimal atmosphere," the Tech replied distractedly, "and I have not a clue how long the hull seal will hold. There was a savashri short in the electrical systems. The door has given itself a new combination code and I do not know what it is. It was just chosen at random, and if things are still alive in there, it could change again at a moment's notice."

  The Kell Hound nodded. "How many digits?"

  The Clansman frowned in irritation. "What difference does it make?"

  Phelan grabbed the man by his collar and hoisted him off the ground. "Give me an answer, idiot! People may still be alive in there."

  "N-nine."

  Phelan dropped him and pulled the electronic lockpick from his pocket. He tossed it to the Tech. "Set the switches to nine and hold it against the lockplate." He then turned to one of the other Damage Control Team members. "Give me one of those EVA suits. I go in first. The ilKhan and Khan Ulric were on the bridge. Find them and get them out and to medical facilities immediately, then we pull out any other people we can find."

  The Clansmen nodded and prepared their equipment as Phelan pulled on the jumpsuit and sealed the ankles and wrists. They're so conditioned to take orders that they defer to me because I'm willing to take command. I know I'll pay for this when the crisis is over, though they might accept the excuse of my being a bondsman anxious about my master. He fitted the bubble helmet over his head and fastened it at the neck. Someone helped him with his boots and gloves, then the Tech at the lock yelped in amazement.

  The doors to the bridge slid open. From amid a cloud of gray smoke, two badly burned people stumbled out. Before they'd even cleared the doorway, Medtechs hit them with painkillers and then guided them down the hallway. Phelan grabbed two tanks of oxygen and dropped into a crouch. As soon as the injured were out of his way, he went in below the level of the rapidly dissipating smoke.

  Whatever hit us was big or moving fast—or both! With few exceptions, the work stations had ripped free of the deck and tumbled back toward the interior bulkhead. Buried beneath piles of technological debris, Phelan saw arms and legs, but the rivulets of blood leaking from those mounds told him there was no help for the people beneath them.

  Others lay strewn across the torn-up deck, some of them moving feebly, but Phelan continued past them in his search.

  He was in the holotank when I last saw him. As Phelan moved toward the collapsed walls of the display unit, the smoke thinned enough to let him see the hole in the hull. Above and slightly to the right of the main viewscreen, it looked about the size of a 'Mech's balled fist. Jagged daggers of metal pointed inward from the hole, but it was by no means enough to have resealed the hole. This place must have been sprayed with shrapnel upon impact. What the hell could it have been?

  Pipes running through the hull pumped gouts of a tarry substance over the breach, covering the hole with a glistening black curtain. Some of the dark fluid dribbled down the interior hull, staining the walls black, but most of it clung to the already present layer and increased its thickness. Phelan could see the layer pulled taut where vacuum from outside sucked at it, and he pushed down a momentary flash of panic. He realized that if it were to give, the vacuum would suck him and the others out into space. He looked around the bridge and shook his head. Obviously, anyone not pinned down by debris had flown out through the breach before the sealant had a chance to work. Though the odds were dismal, Phelan knew he would find Ulric.

  The repair Tech's voice called anxiously over the radio. "Move it, people. That patch is really stressed. I do not know how much longer the stravag thing will hold."

  Phelan shot a brief glance back over his shoulder toward the doorway. "Let us know when you have some good news."

  The Tech shook his head. "That is the good news, bondsman."

  Reaching the remains of the holotank, Phelan discovered a hollow beneath the lowest of the curved panels. Maybe, just maybe ... He dropped to his knees and crawled in. Using the flashlight mounted on his right forearm, he dispelled the darkness and found himself staring at the Khan.

  Stravag! Gotta get him air. Phelan fitted the mask from one of his oxygen tanks over Ulric's ashen face and started the flow of oxygen. As carefully as possible, he shined the light around to see if the Khan had sustained other injuries besides a cut on the cheek. No compound fractures and nothing trapping him. Let's see if I can move him.

  The mercenary grabbed the Khan of the Wolf Clan by the armpits and started to pull. As the Khan's body began to move, Phelan felt some life coming back into the man's limbs. Ulric opened his eyes, and blinked at the glare of the flashlight.

  Ulric brought his hands up and grabbed Phelan's arms just above the elbows. Using the mercenary as a brace, the Khan pulled his body free of the holotank. He did his best to stand up, but his knees buckled almost immediately so that Phelan had to catch him before he could fall.

  The mercenary gestured to two of the white-suited medics. "This is the Khan. Get him out of here."

  Suddenly the radio speakers mounted in his helmet squawked to life. "Everyone, get out of the bridge. The seal is at 110 percent of its maximum stress factor and we have reports that enemy activity is beginning to concentrate in this area. Move! I do not know how long I can hold it."

  Phelan started toward the doorway, but saw a pair of legs move weakly. He detoured over to see if he could help, then came up short. Just my luck, isn't it?

  Wedged partway beneath a curved magnesium girder, Vlad lay on his back with arms and legs splayed out crazily. None of his limbs appeared to be broken, but something had laid his face open on a line from above his left eyebrow down
to his jaw. Blood covered that side of his face, but Phelan knew he was alive.

  "You, bondsman, move it. We are at 127 percent of max stress. The steal will go any second now."

  The mercenary waved off the warning. Kneeling down, he tried to pull Vlad toward the center of the girder's curve, but something had snagged and held the Clansman fast. It would be ironic if whatever kept you from flying out earlier would prevent me from saving you now. He reached up under the steel beam, unhooked the Mech Warrior from where his belt buckle had been wedged and slid him free.

  Grabbing Vlad by the belt buckle Tyra had crafted, Phelan dragged him out from under the metal that had pinned him. Hoisting the Clansman over his left shoulder, the Kell Hound ran toward the doorway 'as the Tech waved him on.

  Vaulting piles of debris, he dashed closer to the exit, but five meters from sanctuary, he slipped in a pool of blood and went down.

  Vlad bounced from his shoulder and into the doorway, where the repair Tech whisked him out of sight. Phelan tried to scramble to his feet, but his bloodsoaked boots could get no traction. All around him, small pieces of debris began to vibrate and dance as the seal tore away around the edges. Phelan clawed for anything that would pull him closer to the doorway, but nothing gave him purchase. He began to slip, centimeter by centimeter, toward the breach.

  Suddenly a huge metal form filled the doorway. The Elemental grabbed the mercenary by the scruff of his neck and heaved him into the corridor beyond the bridge barely seconds before the bridge doors snapped shut behind them. Phelan landed awkwardly in a heap, but the relief at being free of the vacuum's grasp erased any pain or embarrassment he felt.

  He climbed to his feet, and with the rippling crackle of parting Velcro, he yanked off his left glove. He offered his hand to the Elemental who had saved him. "I don't know how I can ever thank you."

  The armored figure reached up and pulled off its helmet. Holding the helmet in the crook of her right elbow, Evantha enfolded Phelan's left hand in a steel grip. "It would have been a waste to let you die."

  The mercenary's jaw dropped. "Evantha? After what I did on Rasalhague ... Why?"

  She shook his hand once, then released it. "You may be a bondsman, Phelan Patrick Kell, but you have a warrior's heart. You have much to learn about us and our ways, but you should realize that we respect you. To let you die needlessly would have been a greater sin than letting you defeat me." Then she let a grin break the fearsome mask she wore. "And it would have prevented me from having the chance to fight you again."

  Phelan stared after her as she walked off down the corridor behind the medtechs carrying Vlad away. She's right. I do have a lot to learn about the Clans. Perhaps that's what Ulric wants ... for me to understand why they've come to the Inner Sphere. His thoughts drifted back to his pledge to help the Precentor Martial unravel the mystery of the Clans. But what happens when I have that knowledge and how will I be allowed to use it?

  42

  Triad, Tharkad City, Tharkad

  District of Donegal, Lyran Commonwealth

  10 November 3050

  Victor Ian Steiner-Davion smiled as he enfolded Kai Allard's hand in his own. "I'm glad you've decided to remain in the AFFC. Losing you would have been a blow."

  Kai shook Victor's hand firmly, but the Prince read doubt in his friend's gray eyes. "I appreciate that, Highness, but I'm not certain it is deserved." As Victor's eyes narrowed, Kai held up his hands. "Don't say I'm being too hard on myself. It's just that sometimes you all try so hard to bolster my confidence that you may err on the other side. I do make mistakes and I had to deal with the consequences of the one I made on Twycross. Thanks for giving me the time to do that."

  Victor broke their grip and shrugged. "It was the least I could do for the man who prevented the annihilation of four 'Mech regiments." He opened his arms wide to take in the whole of the throne room where they stood. Green and gold bunting hung from the balustrades and encircled pillars. Even the two Griffins that stood on either side of the Archon's throne had been repainted with the Donegal Guard's crest. "If not for you, all this ribbon would be black and there'd be no celebrations going on. Hell, after the drubbing you gave them, the Clans have pulled back and made no attempt to retake Twycross."

  Kai pressed his lips together into a thin, grim line. "I appreciate that latter comment, but you and I both know better than to believe it ..."

  "You did what had to be done," Victor said, almost sharply. "You're not guilty of any crime. Dr. Lear said it herself: Those men were doomed before you ever sent them up there."

  Kai raked his fingers back through his dark hair. "I didn't need to send those men up there at all. I know the properties of pentaglycerine. I knew that an explosion nearby could set it off. I could have used my autocannon or gotten some of the invaders to shoot missiles at me. Those men did not have to die. They could have been evacuated with the others. No matter how I try to look at it, I know their blood is on my hands."

  Victor started to frown. "This is basically what you said on Twycross when you resigned. Why the change? Why did you decide to stay with the AFFC?"

  Kai pursed his lips, then sighed. "At first I resented your having 'sentenced' me to the medical evacuation ship taking folks off Twycross. My wounds were minor, at best, and even though I'd decided to resign, I still felt responsible for my lance. I was trying to keep to myself on the Curie, but word got out somehow about who I was and what I had done."

  The Leftenant fixed Victor with a suspicious stare, but the Prince backed off and raised his hands innocently. "Hey, it wasn't me." Dr. Lear was on the Curie, but with orders to stay away from Kai. Though we didn't try to keep Kai's action a secret, it wasn't generally known, either. I wonder ...

  "O.K., Victor. I'll take your word for that." Kai looked up toward the ceiling's shadowed spine, his eyes focusing distantly. "On the trip here to Tharkad, many soldiers came to thank me for the sacrifice I'd made to save them. They told me it took great courage to do what I had done. Some of them were soldiers who'd been evacuated from Dr. Lear's field hospital and they thought they'd have wandered around forever if I hadn't come through and given them something to do. They told me I saved their lives and that they'd gladly serve under me again if given the chance.

  "Maybe for the first time in my life, I wasn't my father's son, or heir to my mother. They saw me as Kai Allard and they welcomed me not because of my parents or my connections, but because of what I had done for them. They offered to serve with me because of something I accomplished on my own."

  "Kai, if you thought I became your friend because ..."

  Kai shook his head emphatically. "No, Victor, I know you didn't. I'm honored to have a few friends who, like you, persevered enough to get to know me. I should have said that at the start. But even you have to admit that we'd probably not have become friends if the positions of our families hadn't created a natural alliance between us.

  "Anyway, those men and women thanking me didn't exactly balance what happened on Twycross, but I realized that I'll never commit that same error again because I know the horror and pain of it. If I resign, however, some other green Leftenant might replace me and make the same mistake all over again."

  Kai shrugged. "Therefore, Highness, I withdraw my resignation."

  Victor looked at Kai with true joy in his eyes. He knew his friend still had the habit of second-guessing himself, but at least he'd begun to learn to put his actions in the proper perspective. It was a small change, but enough to make a difference.

  Victor heard the sound of a door opening behind him and saw Kai jerk to attention. He spun about quickly with his smile growing wider. His mother, Archon Melissa Steiner Davion, accompanied by Morgan Hasek-Davion, entered the throne room through a side door. "Great news!" he told them. "Kai has withdrawn his resignation!"

  Before he could say another thing, a third individual entered the throne room through the same door. Dressed in a black uniform, belted at the waist, with red piping running down the le
gs, the man stepped around Morgan and stood with his fists planted on his hips. His black eyes flashed with an unholy glee and blue highlights played through his long black hair. Both shoulders of his jacket had been embroidered with a wolf's-head design, including actual fur, and the rubies glinting from the wolf's eyes matched the fire in the man's eyes.

  "Victor Davion and Kai Allard-Liao. How convenient to find you together."

  The man's sarcastic tone made Victor angry. "I am Victor. Whom do I have the honor of addressing?"

  The man threw back his head and barked a laugh that echoed throughout the cavernous room. "Spectacular!" He turned and nodded to Melissa. "The Steiner and Davion blood has mixed well in this one. Fire and steel. A little tempering and he'll be invincible."

  The man looked beyond Victor toward Kai. "And this one, this quiet one, he's one to watch." He winked at Morgan. "You know, back in the days of ancient Rome, they used to put a dwarf in the chariot with victorious generals. During the public parades, as the crowds lavished adulation on the general, the dwarf would whisper reminders that earthly glory was fleeting. An officer that carries his own dwarf with him, one that constantly checks to make sure he is right instead of just believing that he's right, that is a valuable man."

  Victor turned to watch how Kai took the compliment and was a bit surprised when Kai did not, as he expected, blush. Instead, Kai bowed slightly, then brought his head up and gave the man a wry smile. "Thank you, Major Ngov. That is high praise, indeed."

  Victor frowned, looking toward Morgan. "What's going on here? I recognize the uniform—he's from Wolf's Dragoons. Enlighten me, please."

  Morgan nodded to Sveng Ngov, and the mercenary smiled broadly at Victor. "It's simple, Highness. Colonel Jaime Wolf sent me to escort your mother, Morgan, Kai, and you to a strategy meeting on Outreach."