Grave Covenant
Page 18
22
Sigfried Glacier Reserve Environs, Tharkad City
Tharkad
District of Donegal, Lyran Alliance
22 November 3058
Victor Steiner-Davion seated himself on the edge of the heavy oaken desk behind which Alessandro Steiner had plotted all manner of treason and smiled at Morgan Hasek-Davion. "Go ahead, open the present now. It's nominally for Christmas—mostly it's to speed you along on your adventure."
Morgan sat back on the brown leather couch and popped the ribbon off the rectangular box. He started peeling the paper back, then smiled when he read the label. "Glengarry Black Label, Special Reserve! Victor, you know your scotch."
Victor smiled sheepishly. "No, actually, Cranston's security people know your scotch. Their datafile on you is fairly complete and they noted you've developed a habit of indulging in a nightcap. They also tell me this is your favorite poison."
Morgan laughed lightly. "You don't know this stuff if you can think of it as poison. And, yes, I have developed a taste for it, but only one drink before going to sleep."
"Good. I've got a case of it going out with you. I don't expect that will be enough, but if I load you up ..."
"Folks could wonder where I'm going that I can't get it. I'll ration it carefully." Morgan glanced at the box, then back up at Victor. "I'm surprised you were able to get a case off Glengarry."
"I didn't." The Prince smiled. "Jerry said some of his special operatives were getting rusty, so they pulled a black-bag job on Katherine's liquor cellar during her birthday party. His people do good work."
"I bet." Morgan set the box on the couch beside him. "So, what else do they have in my datafile?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary—just service records and medical reports. Congratulations, by the way, on checking out on your physical. As far as the doctors were concerned you'd be in great shape even for someone twenty years your junior." Victor nodded solemnly. "This campaign's not going to be easy on you, but the doctors say you're more than up to it."
"I hope they're right."
"What do you mean?" Victor frowned. "You're the only real choice for this operation. You've got the experience, the reputation, and the intelligence needed to carry it off."
"I'd like to think you're right about that, but what does concern me is the nature of the coalition force. While we've all agreed to cooperate, I'm not certain all the disparate parts of the force have worked that out yet."
"That's what the training period is for, Morgan, to get used to each other." Victor eased himself off the desk and walked over to the wet bar built into the corner of the room. "Want something?"
"Water, please." Morgan sat forward, stretching the scarlet ribbon wrapped around the package between his hands. "The training period will help, certainly, but our journey to Huntress is going to take a long time. There'll be plenty of opportunity for friction to stir up trouble."
Victor returned and handed him a glass of water. "As long as the leadership presents a united front, it should be easy to tamp that sort of thing down."
"True, but there's a potential for the leadership to fragment if we don't deal with some issues right from the start."
"Such as."
"Operational security." Morgan grimaced. "We won't have the resources necessary to let us keep Clan prisoners, and we won't be able to free them lest the enemy find them and learn that a big force is moving through their occupation zones previously undetected."
Victor sipped a bit of his own glass of mineral water as he thought. The necessity of secrecy meant Morgan's taskforce would be operating under a communications blackout. They could neither send messages out, nor could messages be broadcast to them. The Clans might intercept those messages, and even if they couldn't break the codes used, they would have to start searching for whoever was meant to get the message. Premature discovery of the taskforce would lead to a battle on the way in to Huntress or, worse yet, Morgan and his people would arrive there to find the world fortified and reinforced.
Because they could not keep prisoners, they had to get rid of them. Marooning them on a world without communications devices was one solution, but unless they were lucky and found a habitable world that had not previously been colonized, chances were that most planets Morgan's force ran across would be lifeless and inhospitable. Sending prisoners back on a ship risked discovery by any number of means and would significantly reduce the taskforce's resources.
The other alternative was to kill the prisoners. Except in cases where the enemy's conduct allows for a court martial and summary execution, it's hard to justify killing them. While the death of one man might guarantee the safety of a taskforce that would win the freedom of the Inner Sphere, using those ends to justify murder is indefensible.
Victor met Morgan's green-eyed stare. "How do you feel about having to order the deaths of prisoners?"
"I don't want to do it, of course, but if it's the only choice I'll have, I guess ... well, I don't know. Able-bodied individuals who've been fighting against us would be easier to kill than invalids and children, but I just don't know. I'm figuring I'll take things on a case-by-case basis and hope there's a way to avoid having to kill noncombatants." Morgan shook his head. "Does that make sense?"
"It's about the only thing that does in all this." Victor sighed. "That's going to be a hard decision, but I know you'll make the best choice if you're confronted with it. The issue comes down to judging how much risk you want to put your people in. If your operation gets blown, the Inner Sphere will shed a lot of blood to accomplish what you will do with, hopefully, a lot less in the way of casualties and deaths."
"Oh, I understand the stakes, I'm just not certain I like the game at which we're wagering." Morgan drained his glass, then balanced it on the arm of the couch. "I'm sure I'll have a lot of help in making the decision, too."
Victor smiled. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to coordinating a coalition force as much as I would to herding wet cats. From here I head to Tukayyid, where we've scheduled some planning meetings, then it's on to Luthien to finalize things. In many ways I envy you the time you'll spend cut off from all the Inner Sphere chaos."
"At least I'll be around to see the reaction to your arrival at Luthien." Morgan shook his head. "A Davion an honored guest on Black Luthien. Never thought I'd see the day."
"Nor I." Victor barked a little nervous laugh. "Facing the Clans will be easier than setting foot there."
"I don't think so," Yvonne offered from the doorway. "Forgive the interruption, but I heard Morgan was going to be leaving and I wanted to say goodbye."
She crossed to where Morgan now stood and gave him a hug. "Be safe, Morgan, and repay them in full for all the misery they've caused."
Victor couldn't hear what Morgan said in return to her, but Yvonne relinquished her hold on him and wiped a tear from her face. "I wish you weren't going—either one of you."
The fear in her voice surprised Victor. "We have to do this, Yvonne, just as you have to take my place on New Avalon. You have my complete confidence."
Morgan smiled. "And mine. Us red-haired people are naturally smarter and able to handle more pressure, you know."
"Great, then I'll get gray just like you too, I suppose." Yvonne did her best to put a brave expression on her face, but Victor was painfully reminded of how young she really was. "I'm not ready for this, Victor."
Before Victor could reply, Morgan rested his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. "None of us are ready for what we're going to have to do, Yvonne, and do you know why? Because the only way we become capable of handling these sorts of situations is through experience. That experience is what we get by doing our best to meet the challenges thrust at us. We do what we can, see what mistakes we made, and then learn from those mistakes. You're smart enough to know that and smart enough to avoid making the little mistakes that anyone else in your position might make."
Yvonne glanced at her brother. "What if Victor's little mistake is t
rusting me?"
Morgan smiled. "Victor's one of the people who makes very few mistakes—which makes me think he's really a redhead and just dyes his hair to confuse us."
Victor reached out and stroked Yvonne's arm. "You can do this, Yvonne. I wasn't ready to take on this responsibility when I was your age either, but that's because I thought being a warrior was all the training I needed. I've learned, to my regret, that I was wrong in believing that. You've got the intelligence and the education and the advisors to help you through this. Listen to Tancred, listen to Morgan's wife Kym. They will help you keep the state running smoothly."
She shook her head. "I don't know about this."
Victor smiled. "Hey, think about how good running the Federated Commonwealth will look on your resume! You ought to be able to get in to any law school you want. I'll give you a good recommendation."
"So will I."
Her gray eyes narrowed. "What if I decide I don't want to give up the throne when you come back?"
The image of Omi flashed through Victor's brain. "If that happens, I might be able to come up with another arrangement that will make both of us happy."
"Your swift and safe return is what will make me happy, Victor. You, too, Morgan."
The Marshal of the Armed Forces of the Federated Commonwealth took a step back, then bowed low toward her. "Your wish is my command."
Yvonne's mouth slackened. "Victor, how will I handle Katherine?"
Ice formed in Victor's guts and drove sharp spikes out in all directions. "I think Katherine will have enough on her plate to keep her occupied for a long time. If not, contact Agent Curaitis through the Intelligence Secretariat. He'll know what to do."
Morgan smiled confidently. "Don't worry about your sister. She's going to be spending her time scheming up ways to take credit for your brother's victories. It'll be a full time job."
Victor slapped them both on their shoulders. "That it will be. After all, once I've conquered Luthien, the Clans will be no challenge at all."
23
Royal Palace, The Triad
Tharkad City, Tharkad
District of Donegal, Lyran Alliance
23 November 3058
As much as it pained her to do so, Katrina decided she owed her brother a little more respect than she had paid him in the past. The time was once when Victor didn't know politics from a hole in the ground. He's learning—his ability to learn has always been his greatest asset. With the military campaign, he's directed back toward being a soldier, which should keep him away from learning about politics for awhile. This is not the moment for him to have a chance to resume those studies.
Katrina did her best to analyze Victor's performance at the Whitting Conference, and she had to conclude that she had constantly underestimated him. From the moment he set foot on Tharkad he'd directed himself toward obtaining the goal he wanted—taking the war to the Clans—and he let nothing deflect him from that course.
His single-mindedness was no surprise to Katrina—she'd lived with it all her life. It had allowed her to work around Victor and manipulate him into situations where the resolution he desired came through her intervention. Victor's putting her on the throne of the Lyran Alliance after their mother's death was just such an event. As it was, the realm later seceded, but bloodlessly, leaving the Lyran Alliance intact and under her control.
Two things Victor did had completely surprised her. The first was his approval of Sun-Tzu's election to the position of First Lord. That move legitimized Sun-Tzu and elevated him to the level of the other major players in the Inner Sphere. It enhanced his position, which could easily affect the balance of power in the Chaos March, where Sun-Tzu was jockeying to get back more of the worlds that had once belonged to the Capellans. Katrina found it inconceivable that Victor would sanction something that would cost him planets that had been conquered by their father. Victor has always been the first acolyte in the Cult of Hanse Davion. That he would allow some of Hanse's victories to become defeats while he is in control just makes no sense.
Unless, of course, one chooses to believe Victor's nattering about choosing to do his duty for the Inner Sphere over worrying about the concerns of his realm.
Katrina knew that was a lie the second she heard it. Victor's drive to join the campaign to destroy the Clans was as bald a grab for power as she'd ever seen. The Precentor Martial had said he was old and would be relying on Victor, in essence ceding to him credit for any victories. Her brother clearly intended, by defeating the Clans, to return to the Inner Sphere like the reincarnation of Aleksandr Kerensky so he could assume a position at the head of the Star League worthy of a returning hero.
In that light, his support of Sun-Tzu made perfect sense. Sun-Tzu was as likely as not to falter in his role. Being who he was, he would over-reach himself and fail—much as his uncle Tormano had done. In comparison to Sun-Tzu, Victor would appear to be the best and brightest possible leader the Star League could have, hence the mantle would fall to him next.
And he will never relinquish it. Grateful commanders and troops could guarantee his position and prevent any attempts to oust him. Dissent against him would become treason and the Star League would become more than just a union of equal states. Victor's grasp on power would tighten and the ruin toward which he had been guiding the Federated Commonwealth would become the destination for the whole of the Inner Sphere.
The second surprise Victor had presented Katrina was his choice of Yvonne as Regent. In his place, she would have chosen their brother Peter—but he had vanished since his adventure on Solaris. She doubted Victor had ordered him killed—assassination was something to which he resorted only when pushed. He'd never have killed Ryan Steiner had I not insisted the man must die for killing Galen Cox.
Their other brother, Arthur, was still at the Battle Academy on Robinson and was not really a suitable choice for Regent. Arthur wore his emotions and loyalties on his sleeve, but tended to move in the direction of the prevailing wind. His presence on Robinson meant he would be steeped in anti-Kurita sentiment, which made him the last person Victor wanted ruling in his stead, especially while he was on Luthien. And Arthur has always been more heart than head—fine for someone who performs ceremonial duties, but not for the one who has to wield actual power.
Yvonne was an interesting choice—and the only logical alternative because of Morgan Hasek-Davion's assuming leadership of the long-strike taskforce. She had changed in the years since Katrina had last seen her, but she still seemed to default to the big sister-little sister mode of behavior when they spoke. She is uncertain enough about herself to be vulnerable to manipulation. Having her on New Avalon does more for me than Victor knows. It gives me the time I need to deal with the Kells before I have to deal with her.
Katrina's slow spiral up toward anger was interrupted by a quick knock on her door followed by its opening before she could grant permission to enter. Anger spiked immediately, and she would have given vent to it instantly had Tormano Liao been alone. "What is it, Mandrinn?"
"Please forgive me, Archon, but I knew you would not wish this woman to be forced to deal with bureaucracy. Only you can help her, and time is paramount, hence my haste." Tormano stepped aside to let Katrina see the petite, dark-haired woman who blushed fiercely and refused to look her in the eye. "This is Frances Jeschke."
Tormano's voice made it sound as if he were introducing Jeschke as the next incarnation of the Dalai Lama. Katrina smiled graciously and extended her hand to the woman. "Welcome to my office, Miss Jeschke. How may I help you?"
The woman's hand trembled as she shook Katrina's. "It's Mrs. Jeschke, Highness." A horrified expression spread over her not-unpretty face. "I didn't mean to be critical—I might as well be a Miss, as he's gone."
"You're a widow?"
"I hope so." Jeschke's lower lip quivered. "I don't know— he was working on Coventry and I haven't heard from him. Doesn't matter because he'd left me and our child. Can't blame him."
Torma
no draped an arm around Jeschke's shoulders and guided her to a chair. "Frances here comes to you for two reasons, Highness. The first is that she is aware of your concern for children who have serious illnesses. Her son Tommy has non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, undifferentiated."
"He needs a marrow transplant or he'll die." Frances wrung her hands. "His dad is gone and I'm not a candidate to donate."
Katrina sat beside her on the couch and stroked her hair. "We'll do everything we can to help." Looking up beyond her at Tormano, Katrina gave him a glare that could have melted a 'Mech's ferro-ceramic armor. "Is there something specific, Mandrinn, that requires my attention?"
"Indeed there is, Archon." Tormano's smile was oily and confident enough that Katrina was determined to hurt him if his estimation of Jeschke's value to her was wrong. "Mrs. Jeschke here has done some detective work of her own and has found a suitable donor of marrow: Jerrard Cranston, your brother's aide."
Katrina frowned. What little she knew of juvenile disease and marrow transplants was that finding a match from outside the family was decidedly rare. "Cranston was typed and had the data logged in his files?"
"Yes." Frances looked up at her. "I was hoping you might be able to ask him to donate. I was hopeful because, well..."
Tormano smiled. "In her search for a donor she discovered she was adopted. When she traced her parents she discovered her father was Anderson Cox. He had an affair with her mother and she was the result."
Katrina felt a chill run down her spine. "I know that name."
Frances nodded. "Anderson Cox was Galen Cox's father." The woman reached out and clutched Katrina's hand. "I don't know if what the holovids and all said was true, but I was hoping you had fond enough memories of my half-brother to try to see to it that his nephew had a chance at life."
Katrina gave the woman's hand a squeeze, then looked up at Tormano. "I was unaware Galen had a half-sister."