by Andrew Keith
"They're in a hurry," de Villar said. "You don't burn double-H at that rate unless speed is damned critical. Especially when there's no friendly refueling station or gas giant handy. If they cut too deep into their reserves they'll be hard pressed to redeploy if they don't knock us off fast."
McCall shrugged. "If 'twere the colonel up there they'd be counting on landing on ain of the ither continents and processing seawater. Or ain of those DropShips could be fitted as a wee tanker."
De Villar nodded agreement, looking glum. "Either way, they're moving fast. Which cuts down on our reaction time. Three days isn't much time to get ready, especially with that damned DeVries dragging his heels." He darted a glare Carlyle's way. "Keep in mind, Cadet, that what you hear in this room doesn't go any further. Not to anyone. It isn't generally considered good diplomacy to curse the Governor General if there's a chance he might get to hear it."
"Yes, sir,' Alex responded dutifully.
"Fact is, he's ducked four calls in the last hour. And we can't afford to keep putting this off. We've got to start mobilizing the Planetary Guard if we're going to have a chance of turning the bastards back when they make orbit." De Villar paused, rubbing his eyes. "Well, I'll go over this report from Vargas, but then His Excellency is going to give me some answers, if I have to stand on his desk and shout to get them."
The major slipped the data disk into a receptacle on the table top in front of him and turned his attention to his computer display monitor. Alex found a seat well away from his two superiors and settled down to wait for his next task. It had already been a long night. And he knew it was far from over.
* * *
Governor General Roger DeVries leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile. His legal experts had agreed with the reasoning of General von Bulow's last message, and that gave him a clear line to follow in his dealings with the Gray Death Legion. Walthers had reported the guards fully prepared for action, ready in their doubled numbers not only at each of the regular guard posts but also in key positions around the portion of Castle Hill given over to quarters for the families and retainers of the Legion's senior officers. That should be enough to easily neutralize the bulk of the mercenary unit. Of course, a few would manage to escape the net, especially the ones at the Gray Death's Brander outpost. But they were no immediate threat, and would soon be brought into the fold once the main leadership was in his hands.
DeVries had good reason to feel satisfied. His plan would safeguard Glengarry with minimal risk of a serious confrontation. Above all else, he didn't want trouble. Neither with von Bulow's troops nor with the Gray Death Legion. Glengarry must be spared the calamity of war.
The intercom buzzed insistently.
"What is it, Campbell?" he asked, keying the speaker.
"Major de Villar to see you, Governor General," his secretary responded. The man sounded unhappy. DeVries had left strict orders not to be disturbed, and only a matter of the greatest urgency could have made Campbell violate those instructions.
DeVries stroked his thin mustache thoughtfully. Why was the Legion's acting commander here now? Was he still looking to talk about coordinating a defense, or had something leaked? Aside from Walthers, the team down in Legal and a pair of commtechs were the only ones who had any idea of what was really going on. Could someone else from the Guards have guessed what was going on and leaked it?
"Send him in," he said at last.
As the major entered, DeVries rose from his chair, smiling and extending his hand. This was the time for some good old-fashioned politicking.
"Ah, Major, good to see you," he said smoothly. "I'm surprised anything could pry you out of your bunker—given the situation."
"It's the situation I want to talk about," de Villar said bluntly.
"Your request for Planetary Guard deployments ... of course." DeVries gestured toward a chair. "I still haven't been able to get all the reports assembled, Major. You know how it is trying to get staff people moving. But have a seat and I'll see if I can run down some preliminaries for you to work from."
De Villar sat down, and the governor returned to his desk chair. Under his bland trader's smile, DeVries was worried. He had planned to hold off on all of his options until he had a better idea of the situation overall, such as a summary of the intelligence estimates the Legion had been passing on to his own military people for the past several hours. The mercenaries had better resources, better information at their disposal than he did, and he would have preferred to discover some unknown factor that might alter the equation before he was committed to any definite course of action. But the kind of mobilization effort the mercenaries were calling for would surely be noticed by whatever intelligence assets von Bulow already had in place on Glengarry, and it would be foolish to think that there weren't plenty of prying eyes out there. It would jeopardize everything DeVries had negotiated if he was seen ordering his own troops to mobilize, as de Villar was ordering.
That left him thoroughly boxed in. He slipped his hand under his desk and pressed the security stud there. It would alert Walthers of a potential threat in the governor's office, but the guards wouldn't respond unless he triggered the alarm a second time.
With his visible hand DeVries reached for the computer keypad, then paused and looked directly into the major's eyes. Fanaticslhough these legionnaires were known to be, it might still be possible to convince them to do the right thing. De Villar, for one, had always struck him as a sober, thoughtful man. "Major," the governor said slowly. "I understand your dedication to your unit, to your people. I know it's popular to think otherwise, but politicians and administrators like me have the same kind of commitment to our people."
"Never had many dealings with politicians, myself," de Villar said. "That's always been the colonel's job. What's your point, Governor?"
"I, uh . . . I wonder if you've considered all the ramifications of this . . . this mess. The legalities? If Duke Richard has declared himself rightful head of House Steiner, and it sticks, then it could be argued that your contract is with him, and not Victor Davion. That would put you in rebellion against legal authority, wouldn't it?"
De Villar shrugged. "It's been my experience that it's the winners of a war who decide what's legal and what isn't, Governor," he said. "The odds against Richard Steiner are pretty damned long, after all. Prince Victor controls a third of the Inner Sphere and more 'Mech regiments than Skye has planets. Steiner would have to win some spectacular victories to even have a prayer."
"The odds against the duke might be long, Major. But here and now the odds against your legionnaires look longer. That fleet out there will crush the Gray Death sooner or later, no matter how many Planetary Guards you have helping you."
"Maybe," de Villar admitted. "Nothing's certain in war, but I'll admit I'd rather be betting on his side." He gave a thin, humorless smile.
"Then why resist? Why sacrifice yourselves and your 'Mechs if even you suspect it may be a lost cause." DeVries paused, then plunged on. "At least think before you expose Glengarry to a full-scale battle, Major. I mean, innocent people will suffer if von Bulow's men invade. But he's offered us a deal. If we take it, we spare the people the ravages of an invasion."
"The general's offer sounded pretty useless to me," de Villar responded. "Resistance is useless, so throw down your weapons and accept Richard Steiner as your new overlord. That's no deal. That's surrender."
"No . . . not surrender. A simple declaration of neutrality, Major. In exchange, we agree to a token occupation. Surrender aerospace assets for the duration, agree not to fight Free Skye. Temporary demobilization of your 'Mechs, just until the immediate crisis is over. It's a perfectly reasonable price to pay, if it will keep the peace."
De Villar rose halfway from his chair in a surge of motion, leaning menacingly over the desk. "Von Bulow didn't go into those details in the broadcast I heard, Governor," he said, voice taut. "Just what's been going on up here?"
Stroking his mustache again with a
nonchalance he didn't feel, DeVries leaned back in his chair. But behind the easygoing air he was on his guard. "I'm just a poor old trader trying to hold down a desk job, Major," he temporized. "But I'm sure that if we tried, we could win just those kind of terms from the general."
The Legion officer leaned further forward. "Let's stop fencing, Governor," he said sharply. "You've been in communication with the enemy. You wouldn't have such a detailed idea of possible terms otherwise. What have you done to my legionnaires?"
DeVries stood up, meeting the man's steely glare. "Look, Major, I'll admit I've been looking for an angle to keep Glengarry from getting sacked. I know the realities even if I'm no professional soldier. Your troops are under strength, and the Planetary Guard are just militia. Von Bulow's got a huge task force out there. Even if you put up the best show since Tukayyid there'll be a lot of collateral damage. Surely you don't want that?"
"No one wants it," the legionnaire shot back. "But we have our duty."
"Your duty?" he demanded. "But it's just as possible that your real duty is to the Steiner family. And if Duke Richard turns out to be the legitimate representative, where does that put your duty?"
"General von Bulow is happy to interpret things that way," de Villar replied harshly. "Sophistry, pure and simple, to help you get out of your obligations with a reasonably clean conscience. I'm not buying it, DeVries." His hand strayed toward the holster at his hip. "I'm declaring you in violation of your oath of fealty to the Gray Death Legion and suspending the civil government. I suggest you cooperate—"
DeVries leaned heavily on his desk, as if suddenly overcome. His finger strayed to the security stud and pressed it a second time. His personal guards would have assembled in the outer office by now. The second alarm was their signal to make their move.
The door slid open suddenly as de Villar pulled his Mydron autopistol. Five guardsmen poured into the room, weapons at the ready. Walthers came in behind them, weaponless but with an air of swaggering confidence.
"I'm afraid I can't allow you to destroy Glengarry, Major," DeVries said sincerely. "A declaration of neutrality is the only solution. I'm sure General von Bulow will agree to observe civilized terms. It's for the best, really." He gestured to his guards. "The major is under arrest. Please treat him with respect, but confine him until further notice. Walthers, it's time. Pass the word to tighten security throughout the Residence. From this moment all personnel of the Gray Death Legion are denied access to all sensitive areas of the Administrative Wing. Place their dependents under close confinement, and arrest all Legion officers you encounter. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," the guard captain said, nodding acknowledgement.
As they disarmed de Villar and escorted him out of the room, the Governor General returned to his desk and sat down wearily. There was still so much to do . . .
19
Dunkeld, Glengarry
Skye March, Federated Commonwealth
2 April 3056
"Citizens of Glengarry! Your attention, please, for an important announcement from the office of His Excellency the Governor General!"
"It's DeVries," Alex Carlyle said over his shoulder to the others in the Castle Hill command center. "On the public information channel."
The pace of activity in the Legion's headquarters complex had slackened in the last few hours. Most of the planning and preparations had passed from the hands of senior officers to their aides or to the computer banks, and it would be hours before new decisions would be necessary. Some of the senior staff had found time to snatch catnaps, and a few even returned to their quarters far above the underground bunker to seek out families or more comfortable surroundings while they waited. Alex, with no better job at hand, had caught a few hours' sleep before being assigned to replace an exhausted Lieutenant Bergstrom in monitoring communications channels in the Snake Pit.
Despite the fact that there was less to do now—or, perhaps, because of it—the atmosphere in the command center had been getting tenser by the minute since de Villar's departure. They'd had no word from him, although it was obvious that the Planetary Guards were assembling in strength at last around Castle Hill. But neither the governor nor his staff were taking calls, even from the Legion, and de Villar had seemingly dropped off the face of the planet.
McCall loomed behind Alex's seat to watch the monitor as the announcer's chiseled face was replaced by the heavier features of the Governor General.
"Citizens of Glengarry," DeVries began gravely. "No doubt many of you are aware of the war fleet that has jumped into the Glengarry system and will be taking up orbit above our fair world within the next three days. This fleet of military DropShips has proclaimed itself under the authority of the Free Skye Provisional Government, a separatist movement that has raised the standard of rebellion against the Federated Commonwealth government under the leadership of His Grace the Duke Richard Steiner of Skye.
"The commander of the task force, General von Bulow, has made his intentions clear. This fleet is here because Glengarry is the planethold and principal base of the Gray Death Legion, which has not committed itself to the Free Skye cause. The Free Skye Provisional Government believes that the Legion, as a mercenary unit with contractual obligations to the Federated Commonwealth, could constitute a threat to their rising. The general's orders are to make sure that Glengarry and the Legion are not in a position to interfere, and he will do whatever necessary to carry out those orders."
DeVries looked directly into the camera with an expression of sincere concern. "Citizens . . . friends ... no one wants to see our fair planet become a battleground. The Succession Wars and the Clan invasions both passed us by, but anyone who has seen off-world news reports knows that modern warfare is a horrible, brutal thing. Even a successful defense of Glengarry would be devastating to our people, our economy, our environment. And the odds are very much against a successful defense. A large contingent of the Gray Death Legion is away on a military mission, and Colonel Carlyle, the unit's well-respected commander, is also off-planet. Perhaps the Legion at full strength and under the leadership of their legendary colonel would be a match for any invader, but against the overwhelming numbers of the Free Skye forces, the shrunken garrison left behind to defend us is simply not equal to the task. Even their own acting commander has admitted doubts about his ability to protect Glengarry from this foe."
Now De Vries was smiling. "Fortunately, it is not necessary for our world to deal with, this threatened invasion. I have discussed the situation seriously with the Legion's temporary commanding officer, Major de Villar, and also with General von Bulow. It seems that the Legion's current contract is ostensibly with the government of the Federated Commonwealth but may prove to be invalid because of potentially conflicting duties to House Steiner. We believe that these legal questions make the Legion's role in the face of this civil disturbance foggy enough to warrant taking a step back and looking things over very carefully before acting."
"The bluidy Sassenach bastard!" McCall swore. " 'Tis a lie! Gomez de Villar winna agree tae any sich thing!"
"Hold a second, sir!" Alex burst out. "Look ..."
". . .to confirm this," DeVries was saying on the monitor. "I give you the Acting CO of the Gray Death Legion, Major Cristobal Gomez de Villar."
The governor's image gave way to de Villar's. The major had replaced the rumpled outfit he'd worn since the Day of Heroes celebration the day before with a clean, crisp, new full dress uniform, with all his decorations and awards. His expression was tense, strained, but he looked straight into the camera and spoke in a low, calm voice. "As acting commander of the Gray Death deputizing for Colonel Carlyle, I hereby confirm my full agreement to the provisions that Governor DeVries and General von Bulow have worked out. These will be fully outlined in due time. For the moment"—he paused, his eyes straying to something or someone out of the camera's range, then took a deep swallow and went on—"for the moment, the Gray Death Legion is hereby ordered to stand down from alert sta
tus. All personnel are to cooperate fully with Governor de Vries and his staff in implementing the agreement with the Free Skye forces ..."
Alex Carlyle slumped in his chair, hardly able to believe what he had just heard. Behind him, McCall's whispered "I canna believe it" summed up his own feelings perfectly.
"I'm sorry, Miss. The comm center is closed by order of the Governor General."
Caitlin DeVries frowned at the kilted Planetary Guardsman blocking the door to the Residence's primary communications complex on Castle Hill. After watching her father's announcement on the monitor in her suite, she had hastened to find him, wondering why he hadn't sent for her if he'd been working on this crisis all night. She was supposed to be his aide now, after all. If he and Major de Villar had been negotiating with the separatists she should have been involved somehow, even if only keeping notes or making sure they had enough tea to keep them running. Wasn't that what an aide was supposed to do?
The announcement itself bothered her, too. It didn't sound like something the Legion would agree to. She wondered what Alex Carlyle thought of these negotiations. His father was famous for refusing to compromise his principles, not even to guarantee the safety of the Legion itself. . .
She pushed that thought out of her mind and concentrated on her immediate problem. "Do you know who I am, Corporal?" she demanded.
"The Governor General's daughter, Miss," the Guardsman replied, looking uncomfortable. "But that doesn't—"
"I'm also a Mech Warrior cadet, and any MechWarrior rank outranks any Planetary Guard rank, at least the last time I looked."
"Er, yes, Miss, but my orders—"
She tapped the armband she'd added to her uniform, the crescent planet against the red and green plaid banner of Glengarry's armed forces. "I am also His Excellency's acting aide-de-camp. You can check the orders in the computer logs if you wish." Caitlin paused. "Are you going to suggest, now, that the Governor General's orders are supposed to keep me from having access to him? My father would be very interested to hear that. Wouldn't you say so?"
