Victor frowned. "As always, they have the advantage because they know where they're going to hit. The lithium-fusion batteries in our JumpShips give us increased mobility, which lets us jump in on them from a long range. But if we jump in when they arrive, they might be able to jump right out again."
"And if we wait until they commit to an attack, we find ourselves in the same position as the Wolves did."
"Right." Victor pounded his fist against his leg. That hurt and he stared at his offending hand. "Someday I will learn."
"Yes, Leftenant-General."
Victor ignored Galen's sarcasm. "It seems rather obvious that one unit alone isn't going to be able to catch these bandits. If we deployed the Revenants forward, we could coordinate with the Wolves and catch them."
Galen shook his head. "I think that assessment is premature. The Wolves did manage to find the bandits, and forced them away from Zhongshan. Another two days or a little more piloting intelligence and they could have had them."
"You don't think I should bring the Revenants up?"
"It's not that at all, Victor. Yes, get us into position to help out, but we have more than military considerations here, don't we? Didn't Phelan tell you that the Jade Falcons are just waiting for the ilKhan to fall flat on his face in this? If we use one of our units to destroy the bandits, we flaunt his help. If, God help us, we have to chase them back into Jade Falcon territory, it could serve as a rallying call to unite the Clans against us again. The ilKhan would be forced to side with them against us, too. Boom, we've got full-scale war once more."
"As always, you tend to think a bit more about the auxiliary concerns than I do. Thank you, Galen."
"My pleasure and duty."
Victor sat back and pressed his hands together, fingertip to fingertip. "I think we need to learn as much as we can about the bandits. Let's run some computer sims between their apparent strength and that of the Revenants."
Galen stood and nodded. "Works for me. Anything else?"
"Yes." Victor chewed his lower lip. "Get me a file on Nelson Geist. If he's close to the Red Corsair, I want to know how he thinks and what makes him tick. If he's still loyal to the Federated Commonwealth, we can use him. And if he isn't, we'll know who to notify when we kill him."
17
Arc-Royal
Federated Commonwealth
28 April 3055
Christian Kell gladly accepted the snifter of brandy from Dan Allard. He raised his glass to his commanding officer. "The Kell Hounds are operational once again."
"May they always remain so." Dan tossed off the amber liquid and Chris followed suit. It burned its way down to his stomach, but after two weeks in the field, it felt good.
Dan dropped himself into one of the briefing room chairs and put his feet up on the table. Watching him, Chris decided that Dan looked the way he felt. Both men were worn out. After the transfer of the regimental cadres back from garrison duty on Tomans, there had been a full week of integrating the new trainees into their units and then two weeks of exercises and war games. Even so, pleasure at the unit's successful showings took the edge off their fatigue.
"I was especially pleased with the way Akira's Second and Third Battalions were able to configure themselves like the raiders that hit Zhongshan." Dan clasped his hands over his chest. "We handled them fairly effectively, don't you think? Your battalion flanked them perfectly and we nailed the lot."
Chris appropriated the chair across from him. "We had a lot of practice against Clan tactics on Luthien. Yes, we did handle them well, but we also outnumbered them two-to-one. Granted, they were using Clan equipment, but in many cases so were we." ,
Colonel Allard frowned. "What is it, Chris? That exercise went by the book—hell, it was better than that."
The younger man shrugged. "Intangibles, Dan. There is too much we don't know about the raiders. Our exercise was based on their latest attacks, and though Zhong-shan didn't show us anything they hadn't done before, their withdrawal in the face of the Solahma's sudden appearance was damned orderly and organized."
"More so than you would expect from a band of renegades?"
"I think so, yes." Chris rested his forearms on the table. "For bandits, their equipment is way too good. And the way they attack, it's all wrong."
"What do you mean?"
Chris' face twisted into a frown as he tried to find words to express his thoughts. "Raiders usually pick LZs that are sparsely defended so that they can get away with as much loot as possible. They try to avoid direct confrontation because they're generally using second-rate equipment and running low on supplies. These raiders go straight for their targets, and straight at any forces standing between them and their objective. They fight in an organized manner and are able to withdraw in good order."
Dan tapped one index finger against his lips for a moment. "You're suggesting that they fight like a military unit. I buy that, but the explanation is nothing more sinister than that they're Clan renegades."
"Maybe, Dan, it just may be." Chris balled his hands into fists, then forced himself to open them again. Though Dan's explanation made perfect and logical sense, it still did not feel right. Chris understood the value of empirical evidence and logic, but he also knew that his survival had depended on his responding to gut feelings in many a tight situation. Concerning the raiders, his guts were telling him something just wasn't right.
"Besides, Chris, it doesn't matter what their motive is. What is important is that we nailed them." Dan smiled slyly. "Now that the Wolves missed their shot at them on Zhongshan, the Archon will be pressured into sending another unit out there. I'll send a message to Morgan that we're ready, and he can let that slip to Melissa when he sees her at the library dedication next month."
"It won't happen, Dan. We're not 'politically correct.' "
"Meaning?"
"Meaning that Ryan Steiner will use his influence to make sure it's one of the old Tamar or Skye loyalist units that gets activated to hunt down the raiders."
Dan laughed lightly. "I think you have Ryan Steiner on the brain, Chris. The local constabulary still has no solid evidence that Ragnarok was or is backed by Ryan."
Chris stood and folded his arms across his chest. "They will find it, Dan, because Ryan is not all that bright. Face it. Ragnarok has his prints all over it. Most of the Rasalhague refugees have fled to worlds well away from the border, into areas like the Donegal March here that were formerly immune to his influences. For a miniscule amount of money he manages to build up a great deal of support.
"When Ragnar showed up with Phelan, Ryan's people must have been overjoyed. I suspect we were being watched in hopes there'd be some incident involving the Clanners that could be used against the Hounds or to embarrass Victor. When I was foolish enough to bring Ragnar into the city, they decided to snatch him."
Dan stared off past Chris, then nodded. "As you said before, Ryan could have traded Ragnar to the Free Rasalhague Republic in exchange for recognition of the right of the Tamar Pact worlds to remain together. Ceding them would cost Prince Haakon nothing because the Jade Falcons have captured almost all the Tamar worlds from both sides anyway."
"And that move would build up all sorts of good will for Ryan. Liberating Ragnar would make the Rasalhagians happy, and it would win him support here from the forces that believe the ceasefire was a bad move." Chris shook his head. "Ryan can muster enough support to force Melissa to use his choice of units to fight the bandits."
Dan smiled broadly and leaned forward. "But can Ryan gainsay Victor a shot at the bandits? If Ryan presses Melissa for action, she can trump him by sending Victor and the Revenants.",
"Victor is game and will want to go, but would she be willing to risk him? The Prince is not terribly popular within Ryan's sphere of influence. If Hanse Davion were calling the shots, Victor would be the point man, but Melissa is not that vindictive." Chris smiled. "Best case would be to send Katrina. She would charm the bandits and talk them into becoming a Hou
se unit."
He pressed his lips together, then looked up at his commanding officer. "What is your read on the Thirty-first Wolf Solahma?"
Dan shook his head. "Don't really know, Chris. They were unlucky and the bandits escaped. What's the matter?"
"I don't know, really. It's just that I heard they jumped out of Zhongshan without recharging or accepting a charge from the charging station there."
"So?"
"So if they had another charge in their lithium-fusion batteries, why didn't they jump out to the pirate point, then disable the bandit JumpShip and trap the bandits?"
"Good question." Dan watched Chris closely. "Does your suspicion of the Wolves extend beyond this incident, or is it isolated?"
Dan's question made Chris stop. During the whole time Phelan had been on Arc-Royal, Chris had found him cordial but never really open. Chris realized he had never taken Phelan aside to ask if they had a problem, yet he could have cited a dozen little things that suggested that there was. Phelan had not invited Chris to fight with his Star in the game. Choosing Mark had helped Mark's attitude toward Phelan and the Clans, but Chris wondered if it was also because Phelan thought him less important than a nephew.
Even as he framed that question in his mind, he was able to come up with a dozen different and valid answers to it. He also remembered the very enjoyable time he had spent in Evantha's company. It occurred to him that he was letting whatever difficulties he had with Phelan bleed over into how he thought about the Clans.
Chris pulled the sleeves on his tunic up to the elbows, revealing a portion of a brilliantly colored tattoo on his left arm. "Perhaps my growing up within the yakuza culture of the Draconis Combine makes me overly suspicious. And it is equally possible that my feelings of discomfort and mistrust of Phelan color the way I see the Clans. Though I do realize the ilKhan has risked much by sending a unit into the Federated Commonwealth to hunt these bandits down, the lack of action by the Wolves still looks pretty curious."
Dan frowned. "You've got no reason to be suspicious about Phelan."
"Don't I? Am I not in his place within the Kell Hound infrastructure?"
"You may see it that way, but I doubt he does," Dan said. "I don't know what or where Phelan would be if he had stayed with the Kell Hounds, but I can bet it wouldn't be as a major leading a battalion. If he was in that sort of position, he would be the head of an independent action unit, like the Black Widows way back when with Wolf's Dragoons. He's a good warrior, and even has a solid grasp of strategy, but he's a wild card. He's unpredictable, which makes him hell on the other side, but also gets the ulcers burning when you're on his side."
Chris acknowledged the wisdom of Dan's words with a nod, but still raised a protest. "That could be, Dan, but I've always wondered if he accepted me as a Kell. I know that must sound odd to you, but there is no way to explain it otherwise."
Dan got up and poured each of them another brandy. "Let me tell you a story, Chris. A long time ago—well, about the time you were born, actually—my brother Justin left the service of the Federated Suns. He started working for Maximilian Liao, and I saw him at Hanse Davion's wedding. He introduced me to Candace as 'the son of the man who was my father.' That was a shot to the gut if there ever was one. Last I'd known, we were still brothers."
Chris sipped the brandy. "But at that time Justin was a deep agent working for Hanse Davion and your father."
"Right. Two nights later Justin killed an assassin who was gunning for our father."
Chris narrowed his eyes. "I'm missing your point."
"It's an old saw, Chris: actions speak louder than words. Has Phelan ever been anything but friendly to you?"
"I wouldn't call it friendly, but he's been polite."
"Considering the two of you never got to know each other, that's not bad." Dan smiled and sipped some brandy. "You're wondering why he hasn't tried to clear the air between you. Well, how would he act if he didn't feel there was a problem to be cleared up?"
Chris chuckled lightly at himself. "Touché, Colonel. Where I grew up, polite manners hid all sorts of ugly emotions. I suppose I attribute malice where none exists."
"There you go." Dan nodded. "But your original point is well-taken. Believing that nothing is odd with the Thirty-first Wolf Solahma just because we trust Phelan is like assuming that Ryan Steiner is benign just because we trust Victor."
"Hai!" Chris swirled the brandy around in his snifter. "So, given all this discussion of politics, are we still going ahead with our deployment plan? Ryan won't like it at all."
Dan shrugged. "It will give him something else to worry about, which may distract his attention enough to frustrate the rest of his plans. We go ahead. Everyone gets two weeks' R and R here on Arc-Royal, then we head out for Deia and give Zimmer's Zouaves a break."
18
DropShip Tigress D2342.221G
Federated Commonwealth
15 June 3055
Nelson Geist kept his hands on the treadmill's railing despite the desire to tug at the collar surrounding his neck. The heavy goggles he wore made it seem like he was standing in a fully dimensional world, while the earphones brought the sounds of that reality to him. In the artificial world, even the treadmill's handrail appeared as the edge of an old man's walker.
Nelson knew the computer construct was not real. The graphics, though close to perfect, failed from time to time as the program ran through rough patches. The aesthetics of the world it created were not important to him, and he was certain the Red Corsair had forced her technicians to load in anomalies to distract him.
The speed with which she'd recovered from her wound surprised him. Sooner than he would have thought possible or even prudent, she had used the simulators on the ship to prove she could still pilot a 'Mech. Shortly thereafter Bryan challenged her to a fight in a Circle of Equals and she gladly accepted the challenge.
She had allowed Nelson to watch the fight, and seeing her square off against Bryan made him fully realize just how close to death she had been on Zhongshan. Wearing a green leotard that covered her from throat to groin but that left her arms and legs bare, she engaged Bryan in a bout of unarmed combat. He out-massed her by at least ten kilos, but her speed and length of limb gave her all the edge she needed to defeat him.
As Nelson had expected, Bryan came in at her from the left, aiming a kick at her head that she had to parry using what should have been her weak arm. She dropped beneath the kick, then lashed out with her left leg, catching Bryan's left foot with a solid blow that knocked him over.
Bryan scissored his legs through where she had been crouching, but she leaped up above his feet. She landed on one leg, then spun around, her left foot clipping Bryan hard above his left eye. The blow split the skin and dropped him to the deck hard.
It took the Red Corsair about a half-second to see that Bryan was dazed and all but out of the fight. She pounced on him, pinning him to the deck the way she had pinned Nelson barely two weeks before. Bryan instinctively tried to heave her off, but he could not. She glanced over at Nelson, as if to say "this could have been you," then administered the coup de grace with her left hand.
If he had imagined she would feel any jubilation at her victory, the Red Corsair quickly disabused him of the notion. "It's your fault I had to go through that, you know," she told him as two raiders carried the unconscious Bryan off to the sick bay.
"And you showed compassion by not killing him." Nelson gave her a smile that he knew would further kindle her anger.
"That was a practical consideration. Bryan is my second-in-command and only did what any other responsible officer would have done in his place." She grabbed his jumpsuit front and bunched the material up under his chin with her fist. "Now it is time for you, a slave, to learn what you will be doing for the rest of your life."
She hauled him off to a cabin that adjoined hers. Aside from the treadmill and some equipment lockers, it was featureless. For a moment Nelson thought it might have been a private gymn
asium for her, but he had never known her to use anything but the communal facilities on Deck Twelve.
She fitted him with the goggles and gloves, and stuck little electrodes on his knees, ankles, elbows, and shoulders. "These will allow the computer to track you and determine where you are and how you are standing."
He turned toward her voice because the goggles turned his world into a sphere of static. "Why?"
"Why?" He heard her laugh heartily. "Because, slave, you will learn your duties. I have decided that when I return from this mission it is time for me to have children. I have also decided that you will care for them." He felt her hand start at his knee and slowly begin to caress its way up to his groin. "Perhaps I will even let you father them."
That prospect shot a jolt through him and she laughed. "Perhaps I will make you father them."
The edge in her voice got to him and elicited a shudder that seemed to satisfy her. Nelson said nothing and told himself it was to deny her the satisfaction of hearing his protests. Deep down, though, he knew that part of him wanted her desperately.
As much as he wished to deny his attraction to her, he could not. Every time he tried to push it way, it came back, stronger and stronger. It fed on his denial. He found himself thinking about her, fantasizing about her, and all the multiplication tables in the world couldn't snuff out his ardor.
He felt her fasten something around his throat. It felt heavy at the front and had two cool spots where it pressed against the flesh over his Adam's apple. She tightened it and he felt the thing snap shut at the back of his neck.
"This exercise will be simple, Nelson. You will see a clock and a schedule in a corner of the world the computer will create for you. You must get to the appropriate places at the correct time or you will be disciplined."
Natural Selection Page 14
