Grave Covenant

by Michael A. Stackpole

  From the reaction by the other Khans, this Star League ploy, when coupled with a strong assault, seemed to carry some weight. That struck Vlad as odd for a second or two, then he noticed the thoughtful expression on Marthe Pryde's face as she stared distantly past him. That she might have to think a moment before dismissing the charade surprised Vlad, so he forced himself to reason his way through the implications of the Star League being reformed and dealing the Clans a series of defeats.

  Of course, I should have seen it before. The Crusader faction of the Clans was the group that had initiated the assault on the Inner Sphere. They were the ones who had declared the realms of the Inner Sphere to be illegitimate and barbaric. Their mission was to conquer Terra and reestablish the Star League themselves. Proof of the fact that they were right, that their motives were right and that their cause was just, was the ease with which their forces overcame the Inner Sphere troops they faced.

  That conviction, based on the results of battles waged with inferior troops, carried with it the seeds of deception and self-doubt. It had almost been easy to rationalize defeat on Tukayyid because ComStar was an organization that held itself apart from the realms of the Inner Sphere—in fact, because of the way it had influence throughout the Inner Sphere, it was closer to the old Star League than anything else. The warriors of ComStar could almost be seen as pure and free of the taint of the older, more corrupt realms. And, after all, some of the Clans did win their engagements on Tukayyid, so our defeat was not complete.

  Defeats on other worlds, like Twycross and Wolcott, could be put down to deception or luck. The defeat of the Smoke Jaguars and Nova Cats at Luthien could be explained away simply because of the presence of Wolf's Dragoons—a renegade Clan unit—and the fact that Luthien had never been an easy world to take. The Jaguars had overreached themselves there and gone after it primarily because the Wolves had taken Rasalhague, the capital of the Free Rasalhague Republic. Defeats such as those were really of little consequence—exceptions they proved that either the Inner Sphere troops were devoid of honor or that they could get lucky once in a while.

  The problem with the Star League assault in the Smoke Jaguar and Nova Cat occupation zones was that it was clearly an operation planned and pursued with the same sort of precision the Clans themselves reveled in. It was nothing less than an invasion of Clan territory by the Inner Sphere and Vlad could almost share the shock and sense of doom the citizens of the Inner Sphere had felt.

  Since the ease of their earlier victories had confirmed the virtue of the Crusader mission, their losses now cast it into doubt. Vlad could almost feel Katrina's fine hand in both this presentation and the choice of targets. They are going after the Smoke Jaguars, my enemy. This invasion helped Vlad much more than it hurt him.

  He glanced over at Marthe Pryde. "Hurt, are you, Marthe, that they did not choose to attack you, quiaff?"

  A quick flash of fire in her eyes told him he'd hit very close to the mark, but she covered it with a shake of her head. "What could have happened at Coventry was enough to put them off the Jade Falcons, I think."

  "No doubt."

  Marthe snarled silently at him,«then stared down at Lincoln Osis. "Is this true, ilKhan? Are the troops of the Inner Sphere claiming to be of the Star League?"

  "Yes, but it is a tissue of lies." Osis leaned forward at his place, holding his body up on his fists. "I already have a plan to deal with this assault. While the Inner Sphere has learned much tactically, their operational and strategic planning leaves much to be desired. Their strikes are aimed at worlds where they will be uncontested or will face garrison Clusters. They have not come at my best troops, and I do not plan to give them that opportunity. We will be blasting into the Combine, expanding our invasion corridor."

  Osis lifted his arms and opened them. "This is the opportunity you have all be waiting for. I am prepared to accept bids on assignments for your troops so you can join me in destroying this threat to the Clans."

  Vlad laughed aloud. "You are generous now with opportunities whereas you have been stingy with information up to this point. You waited a whole six weeks, until a second wave of attacks began and you were questioned here, by this body, about the attacks to tell us what has happened. And you still have not told us the whole of what you face."

  Osis shrugged. "I had not thought you would send troops to help anyway, Khan Ward, so your protests neither surprise nor influence me."

  "They are not meant to influence you, ilKhan. The Star League has given you all the surprise you can handle right now." Vlad looked around at the other Khans. "Lincoln Osis, our ilKhan, chose to keep these attacks a secret and treat them as an internal Smoke Jaguar matter. He even refrained from bringing them to our attention when he had word from the Nova Cats that they, too, had been attacked. And now he has a plan and is inviting all of us to participate in it."

  Vlad contorted his face into a mask of disgust and let his voice slip into a growl. "I am not a mercenary who can be bought. What does the ilKhan offer us? He offers us the chance to let our troops shed blood to win worlds for the Smoke Jaguars. It is clear why he thinks such an offer is more than generous."

  Asa Taney of the Ice Hellions turned to point a finger at Vlad. "That is simple enough for you to say, Khan Ward, but your forces are already in the Inner Sphere. This is our opportunity to join the invasion."

  "No, this is your opportunity to prostitute your troops for scraps from the Smoke Jaguar table. The assignments he gives you will spread you out around the Periphery, hitting the Combine from a dozen places so they will pull troops off Jaguar worlds. What he has missed in this planning is that more than just Combine troops have been attacking his worlds. This is a coalition, and they are using their best troops. You would be foolish to become involved in this operation."

  Marthe Pryde nodded solemnly. "The Wolf Khan has the right of it. The ilKhan has addressed this as a Smoke Jaguar problem, but when things go against him, he seeks to expand it into a Clan problem. This is wrong. It is so wrong, in fact, that I will pledge troops of my own to oppose those bids to aid the Smoke Jaguars. I move that any troops not already part of the invasion must win the right to participate by defeating Jade Falcon troops."

  "And I pledge Wolf Clan troops to oppose those who make it past the Jade Falcons." Vlad bowed his head to Marthe. "And I would be most willing to alternate challenges with the Jade Falcons, if Khan Marthe would share this mission with me and my troops."

  "The Jade Falcons would be pleased to allow the Wolves to deal with some of these challengers." Marthe Pryde smiled. "There you have it, my Khans. If you wish your troops to prove themselves worthy of joining the invasion, let them prove themselves combat-ready against those who have already defeated the Inner Sphere's troops."

  "No!" Lincoln Osis hammered his table with his fist. "What are you doing? Do you not see the threat here?"

  "I see it, ilKhan, more clearly than you." Vlad pressed his hands together, fingertip to fingertip. "You are the ilKhan, but you still act like a Smoke Jaguar Khan. This threat is one you should have brought to us immediately. You did not. I have to assume then, that you believed you could handle it. Therefore, I must conclude that, as ilKhan, either you are capable of dealing with it on your own, or you are not. In this latter case, then, I believe you must acknowledge yourself incapable of serving as ilKhan. You should resign and another ilKhan should be elected to replace you; elected to deal with this crisis. Any other conclusion is inescapable."

  Osis' face became ashen. "You make light of this threat, Vlad."

  "I do not, ilKhan, but I do not see the Smoke Jaguars as being the soul of the Clans." Vlad's voice became icy. "The Inner Sphere may destroy the Smoke Jaguars, but the Clans are eternal. We shall survive your misjudgment and malfeasance whether or not you do. Your only hope of survival is if your plan to repel this attack works. If it does not, a new ilKhan will go back into your invasion corridor and do things right this time."

  35

  DropShip
Barbarossa

  Nadir Recharging Station, Wolcott

  Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine

  27 July 3059

  Victor Ian Steiner-Davion again scanned the data floating above the projector in the middle of the wardroom. "This was not quite what we expected."

  The Precentor Martial calmly shook his head. "Neither was it unanticipated." He adjusted his eye patch slightly. "The Smoke Jaguar commander has mistaken me for Hannibal, so he is playing Scipio Africanus. By attacking five Combine worlds, he hopes we will withdraw our troops and fight to preserve the Combine. We knew this was a possibility."

  "Agreed, which is why our second wave extended out beyond the worlds from which the Jags could easily launch assaults on Combine worlds. By getting behind the lines and making supplies more dear, we hoped to lure the bypassed forces outward. We expected this strike at the Combine to come in reaction to our first wave, not in anticipation of our third. This is a problem."

  Focht arched an eyebrow at him. "Is it?"

  Victor frowned. "Well, it is, but perhaps not an insurmountable one. We had three regiments garrisoning those front-line worlds when we launched our second wave. We've moved some of those forces forward for a third wave here—which will actually be hitting some of the worlds we'd reserved for our fourth wave—and we can shift forces around from the front-line worlds that haven't been hit."

  The Precentor Martial nodded. "And don't forget that these worlds have been anticipating a Clan invasion for the past eight years. The Combine has built up defenses and trained their citizenry to repel attacks. With reinforcements coming in, the Clans are going to find these very tough worlds to take. They're expecting to have the easy sort of battle they had in the initial invasion, and that's not what they're going to get. They're going to be tied up for a long time, which means we can respond with as much power as we need to destroy them."

  The Prince considered Focht's words. In his inspections of the Combine's frontier worlds he'd found their state of readiness very high. The garrison units drilled constantly and, over the years, had been staffed with veterans who'd seen action against the Clans as well as with new recruits whose youthful enthusiasm provided the fuel to implement strategies. Fortifications had been raised to withstand Clan sieges, and the general population had been trained in anti-Clan tactics. While their survival rate was likely to be minimal, the fact was that the training had turned entire worlds into armed camps, which meant the Clan would find no peace on Combine worlds.

  "I would have preferred hammering those units on the worlds they held, but having them disappear into the Combine works, too. I know I wouldn't like dropping onto any of those planets." Victor smiled slowly. "I hope the Clans will hate it."

  "They will." The Precentor Martial clasped his hands behind his back. "In reviewing the unit rosters for the attack on Schuyler, I notice you are in command of the Tenth Lyran Guards' First Battalion."

  "Those are my Revenants. Of course, I'll be leading them."

  "And if I choose to prohibit your entering combat?"

  Victor's stomach folded in on itself. "I thought it was understood when we made the Tenth Lyran Guards part of this assault force that I'd be there. Kai will be leading the Lancers, Hohiro will command the First Genyosha, and Phelan will be bringing in his Fourth Wolf Guards. I have to lead the Revenants."

  Focht shook his head. "No, you don't. Wait—before you protest, answer me this question: Why must you lead them?"

  "They're my people. I picked them. I trained with them. We rescued Hohiro from Teniente. I won't let them go into combat without me because I'm not going to ask them to face danger and risks unless they're risks and dangers I'm willing to face myself."

  "Victor, you've taken those risks before—your courage is not in question." Focht frowned. "It's not an easy thing to step back and command without being in the thick of combat. On Tukayyid I wanted very much to climb into the cockpit of a 'Mech and go after the Clans myself. Every death on my side became one I could have prevented had I been there. I felt I'd abandoned my people by letting them race into combat without me being there."

  "Right. Exactly. So you know why I need to be there."

  "No, I know why you think you have to be there." Focht nodded slowly. "My guess is that you also believe your direct intervention in an operation is demanded because of politics. You fear that your sister will make much of the fact that you didn't fight, didn't risk your life to oppose the Clans."

  A shiver worked its way up Victor's spine. "I won't deny that is a consideration, but only a minor one." His hands tightened slowly into fists. "You've been around long enough to see the political machinations in the Inner Sphere. You remember my grandmother deposing her uncle Alessandro and taking over as Archon. You certainly recall Ryan Steiner's antics and probably even remember Frederick Steiner's ham-handed attempts at politics. He commanded the Tenth Lyran Guards and should have stuck to the military side of things because, as a politician, he was useless."

  "So I recall." Focht's good eye narrowed. "I fail to see how this lesson in history makes your point."

  "My point is this ..." Victor sighed and collected his thoughts. "When I got run through I, ah, I died, or I thought I did. I know I coded and they had to bring me back, but while that was happening, I discovered some things about myself. I am, first and foremost, by heritage, inclination, and training, a warrior. That is what I do, what I am, and what I'm good at. I'm a thoroughbred that needs to run—if I can't, I'll die. And that's not to say I'm going to be a sociopath who goes out and starts wars just so I can mount up in a 'Mech and kill things. I'm someone who feels the need to do and accepts the responsibility for doing what has to be done to preserve the freedom of my people.

  "Look, you're right in that I know that planning and evaluating are a vital part of this whole operation. I'm enjoying it, thriving on it, and I think I'm doing a good job."

  "You are."

  "But the problem is that it's all theoretical. I need to be down on a world, marching my 'Mech around, grounding myself in the reality of war. Without that I'll let myself make mistakes I can't afford to make." Victor looked up at Focht. "You've had enough experience in your life that you may not need any more fighting. You've got the tempering and seasoning I do not."

  "And if getting that tempering and seasoning gets you killed?"

  "Then I wasn't good enough to be leading in the first place." Victor opened his hands and pressed them to the table top. "I also need to fight to maintain the respect of the troops. Face it, my record isn't that good. My first command got wiped out on Trellwan. At Twycross we'd have been killed except for Kai saving the day. On Alyina I'd have died again, but Kai saved me once more. And, sure, on Teniente the Revenants rescued Hohiro, but his command's intervention pulled me out of a sticky situation. And, finally, on Coventry, we had a non-battle, which was just as well because even if we had won there, we'd have lost in terms of personnel killed and materiel destroyed."

  "Kai, Hohiro, Phelan, and the others respect you, and the troops pick up on that," Focht said.

  "But that can erode." Victor shrugged. "Maybe it's just me, but I feel like an impostor. I've got a lot of responsibility and yet I have a lot of doubts. I keep waiting for someone to call my bluff and prove I'm not worthy of the position I hold. Going into combat will let me prove my worth. Does that make sense?"

  "Of course." The Precentor Martial smiled. "Do you think you're the first leader to have such doubts? All the good ones do. I suspect your father agonized over decisions he made and I know your grandmother did. They knew when to fight and when to lead."

  Victor nodded slowly. "So you're telling me it's time for me to lead and not fight?"

  "Not quite yet." The Precentor Martial gave Victor a warm smile. "I just wanted to make sure you wanted to fight as opposed to having fought. If you were going to drop onto Schuyler just to walk your 'Mech to the Jaguar headquarters and proclaim victory, I wouldn't let you go."

  "You thi
nk I'm capable of doing that?"

  "Not until you're more politician than you are warrior." Focht folded his arms across his chest. "Go, see to it that your unit is ready to roll. I'll issue the orders moving our reserve around to deal with the Jaguar offensive. By the time we're done, the Jags will know we're serious and start sending more troops down here, leaving Huntress open. They'll learn that we've studied Scipio Africanus, too, and that they've got a lot more in common with the Carthaginians than they ever wanted to imagine."

  * * *

  I am Smoke Jaguar. I am a hunter, not a beast to be hunted! Elemental Star Captain Vulcan Bowen wanted to scream that declaration over his radio as he stalked through Fuun Township. In his time with the 19th Striker Cluster, he had seen a fair number of Inner Sphere worlds, but the Combine planet of Matamoros was the worst. They must have to sentence people to live here, it is so colorless. The garrison unit, the Second Night Stalkers, were famed for their night operations, and Bowen knew it must be because they couldn't bear the sight of the place during daylight hours.

  The night was not being his friend. Fuun Township sat fifty kilometers to the east of Wazukana Fortress. The First Free Worlds Guards Regiment had taken up residence there, and the 19th Striker Cluster was having trouble dislodging them. Insurgent action staged by a citizen militia group from Fuun Township had harassed the Smoke Jaguars' siege efforts, so dealing with the problem had been put up for bid. Bowen had not won the initial bidding—instead Star Captain Jeremiah Furey had won by bidding himself down to less than a Point's worth of strength. Furey and his two companions had vanished into Fuun Township without even a distress call.

  Bowen and the quartet of Elementals who had accompanied him to Fuun Township had found their compatriots dead, bound to crude X-crosses on the hill at the center of town. What had struck Bowen as odd, and had even unnerved him a bit, was that in their patrol of Fuun Township they had seen no sign of habitation until they reached the center of town. Even the bare dirt around the crosses showed no footprints. It was as if Furey and the other Elementals had been shucked of their armor and killed by phantoms.