Natural Selection

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Malthus frowned. "If you are thinking of invading Alyina, I will defend with all I have. My first action will be to cripple the recharge station, so you will not gain by it."

  "Easy." Phelan held both his hands up. "What Colonel Allard meant was ..."

  "Allard?" Malthus' blue eyes narrowed with suspicion. "He is an Allard?"

  Phelan hit a button on the commlink that zoomed the lens back to bring Dan into the picture with him. He looked at the older man and jerked a thumb at the commlink.

  Dan gave Malthus a disarming smile. "I am Colonel Daniel Allard of the Kell Hounds."

  The Elemental stared out from the flat screen for a moment. "Do you know of Kai Allard-Liao?"

  Dan's smile broadened. "I do. He is my nephew, my late brother's son."

  Malthus nodded. "I know him. I hunted him. I fought beside him."

  "He has not spoken much of his time on Alyina." Dan's expression grew grim. "It was not an easy time for him."

  "But it was one of which he should be proud," said Malthus. "I have seen an Allard fight. On the chance that what he knew he learned from you, I will bargain away the ship charges you need in return for your promise of peaceful passage away from Alyina."

  Dan smiled. "Bargained well and done. I will tell Kai that we spoke."

  The Elemental nodded. "Tell him I said I am proud to consider him a comrade."

  * * *

  Of all the people in the task force, Nelson Geist knew that he alone was happy at the week added to their schedule when Phelan detoured through Jade Falcon space and into the Wolf Clan occupation zone. The detour forced an added pair of jumps that gave Nelson the one thing he wanted: time.

  During the delays Chris Kell worked with him in combat simulators to bring him back into training. The schedule Nelson set himself was grueling and both Bates and Kell had to urge him to get more sleep and to eat regularly. He knew they thought him obsessive, but they had become his allies, working hard to help him hone his skills as a pilot.

  Together they hatched a plot that was as elegant as it was simple. Nelson prepared a document in which he resigned his commission in the Kooken Militia. Chris Kell then offered him a contract with the Kell Hounds and convinced Dan Allard to sign off on it. Kommandant Nelson Geist became Major Nelson Geist, a tactical advisor with the Kell Hounds.

  When the papers were signed, Nelson could not keep a smile from his face. "My grandsons would be overjoyed to know I have signed with the Hounds. I will have to find them a playmate so both of them can command little armies of Kell Hounds."

  Chris nodded in agreement. "You will have to bring them to Arc-Royal. They will find plenty of children there to play with—though I would say all of them will be partial to the Hounds."

  With the paperwork out of the way, Nelson's training went into high gear. If any opening came up in the First Regiment, Chris vowed to push him as the man to fill the empty slot. Chris even suggested that he would trade slots with another man in the unit so he could get a Battle-Master and let Nelson backseat him.

  Nelson repaid Chris's faith in him during the times when they were not training or he was not napping. Throughout the trip, repairs continued on the BattleMechs of the First Regiment. Nelson, Bates, and Chris all labored long and hard to refit the Thunderbolt with armor and to reinforce the skeletal structures damaged on Arc-Royal.

  The repairs were pronounced finished just in time for the last jump to Elissa. Chris joined the other mercenary officers in the Khan's cabin for a final meeting. Chris said he would be pushing the case for Nelson's participation in any battle that took place on Elissa, so it came as only a slight surprise when the Khan summoned Nelson into his presence.

  When he entered the cabin he knew immediately that Chris's request had been denied. The Khan had no trouble meeting Nelson's gaze while Chris shied from it and shook his head. "You sent for me, Khan Phelan?" Nelson stood at ease, with his head proudly raised.

  "I applaud your effort, Kommandant, and I wish more warriors had your heart and drive. Your request to serve in a 'Mech has been denied." The Khan's hard expression softened a bit. "That does not mean, however, that I do not recognize your skills. I will communicate them in a letter to Prince Victor Davion and urge him to reinstate you in the regular army." The Khan looked at Dan. "That is, if Colonel Allard decides to give you up."

  "Thank you, sir." Nelson choked down the lump in his throat. "Is that all, sir?"

  "No." Phelan leaned forward on his desk. "We will be jumping into Elissa in less than two minutes. Is there anything you have not told us?"

  Nelson shook his head. "You know all of it."

  "Very well." The Khan pointed him to a chair. "Be seated. We are about to jump."

  Nelson and the Kell Hound officers strapped themselves into their chairs. Chris reached out and squeezed Nelson's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I tried."

  Nelson nodded. "I know. I hope the training you did against me allows you to finish what I cannot."

  "My finger will be on the button, but your spirit will be pushing it."

  Three tones sounded, with the last one echoing into the eternity that swallowed Nelson when the ship jumped. He felt himself stretched out until he was only an atom in thickness, then feared he would be torn apart. That fear died amid the regret he felt at being unable to avenge himself against the Red Corsair. Suddenly he reconstituted himself around his need for revenge and as his atoms returned to flesh him out once again, he knew he had escaped oblivion for only one purpose: to kill the Red Corsair.

  Nothing and no one can stop me from that.

  His vision cleared and he saw the Khan concentrating on his commlink screen. "Incoming message from Elissa, Khan Phelan," he heard a commtech say.

  The Khan looked at the officers in the room. "It seems we are anticipated. So much for the advantage of surprise." He hit a button on his computer. "Run it in here."

  Oh, there is an advantage in surprise, but they have it! Nelson saw the blank screen fill with Conal Ward's face. "Khan Phelan Ward, with what forces will you attack Elissa?"

  Phelan sat back, clearly stunned. "If this is your idea of a joke, Conal."

  "With what forces will you attack Elissa?"

  Nelson's mind reeled with the repetition of the question. The Thirty-first Wolf Solahma left Arc-Royal before I told the Khan where the Red Corsair maintained her hideout. Conal could only have gotten that information from her, which means he is in league with her. But his Khan opposes her. How can this be?"

  Nelson heard the fury in the Khan's voice. "Star Colonel Conal Ward, I am your Khan. I order you to abandon Elissa and to turn the Red Corsair over to me."

  "No."

  "You realize you are committing an act of treason, Star Colonel."

  Conal shook his head. "With all due respect, my Khan, it is you who are leading a force from the Inner Sphere to conquer a world held by the Wolf Clan. I am defending it against your treason."

  Phelan leaned in toward the screen. "Is this really how you want to play this out, Conal? If so, I will see to it that all your offspring are slain and your DNA is expunged from all breeding programs."

  Conal lost a bit of his color, but his face hardened into a mask of hatred. "If you defeat me, Khan Phelan, you might be able to carry out your threat. I will be defending Elissa with the Thirty-first Wolf Solahma. I would ask you to refrain from using your aerospace fighters."

  The Khan shook his head. "No, Conal, you made your bed, now you can die in it. We will attack with everything we have. You have grossly overstepped yourself, Conal, and you will pay."

  The other Clan warrior managed a sarcastic smile. "Winners write the history, Khan Phelan. Remember that, and hope that I will be generous when I write your epitaph."

  40

  Elissa

  Wolf Clan Occupation Zone

  25 October 3055

  Phelan shrugged on his cooling vest and snapped it up. He pointed to the holographic map of the valley for which they were headed. "Conal will be waiting
for us here, at the north end of the valley. The settlement here, near the south, looks empty. We do have indications of an extensive underground network—both from our sensors and from what Geist told us about the virtual world in which the Red Corsair had him running around." He glanced up at Christian Kell. "Geist confirmed the layout of the town?"

  Chris nodded. "He said it matched."

  Evantha pointed at the map. "What are the chances Conal will have rigged this settlement the way you booby-trapped Denton?"

  "Good question." Phelan belted his pistol on and bent over to tie the holster down to his right leg. "I would say they are slim. He wants us to land close to him, which precludes our running to the city to get trapped. It also makes me think there will not be an ambush from a force hidden there."

  The young Khan looked over at Carew and Caitlin. "If there is any force coming out of the city at us, that is when you hit them. Conal did not want you in the fight. I want you flying CAP in case we need you. I want you up to preoccupy him."

  Chris frowned. "Why not just strafe the hell out of his troops?"

  Phelan ground his teeth. He's right, it would be easier. "Because those troops are still members of the Wolf Clan. I do not want to have to kill them if it can be avoided."

  Dan Allard passed a hand through the mountains at the rear of the Wolf Solahma lines. "These mountains are a warren of mines. If Conal takes his people in there, it will be nasty infighting to root them out."

  "Then we will let them starve in there. My main concern is to get the Red Corsair." Phelan pulled his pistol from the holster and jacked a round into the breech. Easing the hammer down, he returned the weapon to its holster. "We are going to defeat Conal, get the Red Corsair, and get out."

  The Owl's Nest jerked a bit as it entered the atmosphere. Phelan looked at the men and women filling the small briefing room. Young and old, they all knew what they were getting into and he sensed no fear, Only impatience. "We are about an hour away from touching down. Any last-minute questions?"

  Chris raised his hand. "Are you going to commute Kommandant Geist's sentence?"

  "Chris, he switched sides. He shot at our people." Phelan shook his head. "I cannot give him a 'Mech."

  "Seems to me, cousin, that he is not the first man ever to shoot at forces from his own nation."

  The bitter acrimony in Chris's voice squeezed Phelan's heart. He acknowledged the observation with a nod. "True, cousin, I switched sides and shot at people from the Inner Sphere. Were I in his position, would you give me a 'Mech?"

  Chris started to answer, then caught himself. "Touché, Phelan. I think you're wrong, but it is your decision."

  Phelan gave his cousin a quick smile. "And I think you're right. I also know I'd rather regret not having armed a loyal man than regret putting a traitorous man into the cockpit of a 'Mech."

  "Point."

  "Battle stations, everyone." Phelan hit a button and the planetary tableau vanished. "We have found our quarry, now we need to kill it."

  * * *

  Nelson Geist held his hand against his forehead to shade his eyes. "Where? I don't see her."

  Standing beside Geist on the nose of the stationary hovercar they had borrowed from the Owl's Nest, Bates pointed through a gap between Alpha and Beta Battalions of the Kell Hound regiments. "There she is. It's a red BattleMaster."

  Nelson squinted his eyes and tried to make out something through the waves of heat blurring the dust cloud raised by the advancing Kell Hounds. "I can't see anything." He dug an elbow into Bates's ribs. "Let me use your binoculars."

  Bates ducked his head to get the strap off his neck and handed the heavy field glasses over. Nelson wiped the sweat from the edge of the viewing lenses, then raised them to his eyes. Holding them as steady as he could with his half-hand, he focused them with his right index finger.

  The Kell Hounds, with their BattleMechs painted black on the legs and red on the body and arms, had their backs to him. In their center he saw a knot of black 'Mechs that were the Khan and his Star. Half-hidden by the dust cloud that the titanic war machines had raised were the Elementals of Evantha's command reinforcing the far left portion of the mercenary formation, its western flank.

  Beyond them, through the gap Bates had pointed out earlier, Nelson focused on the Thirty-first Wolf Solahma. Their 'Mechs had been painted a drab olive green that Nelson thought was suitably martial, but decidedly unremarkable. He knew that the Thirty-first Solahma, though a Clan unit, was despised by the Khan and his people. If the Thirty-first Solahma were judged by the amount of work put into the decorations on the 'Mechs present, they would have come out at the bottom of the heap.

  Nelson guessed that they sank even lower in the Khan's estimation because they had with them four other BattleMechs. Three of the machines he did not recognize, though their scarlet and gold markings were appropriate for the bandits. The last machine he did know, and know very well. So, she is there. I wonder if she is wondering where I am?

  "See her now?"

  Nelson nodded, losing sight of her for a moment, then finding her again when her 'Mech began to move forward. As the BattleMaster closed with the Kell Hounds, he thought he noticed hesitation. The 'Mech did not move with the fluid grace the Red Corsair had always shown. What's going on? She has to be there. That has to be her.

  Nelson lowered the glasses and rubbed at his eyes. Raising them once more he saw the BattleMaster swing its right PPC toward the Kell Hound line, then bring it back as it overcorrected the first targeting maneuver. My God. . .

  Nelson held the glasses out for Bates. "Yeah, I see."

  The security man reached for the binoculars and never saw Nelson's right knee come up and around. The knee caught Bates in the groin, doubling him over, then Nelson brought the binoculars down and clipped him behind the right ear. Bates toppled from the hovercar and landed unconscious on the ground.

  Nelson jumped down beside him and laid the glasses on his chest. "Sorry, my friend, but you wouldn't have understood." He hopped into the hovercar and freed the shotgun from the scabbard on the left side of the vehicle. Laying it on the seat beside him, he started the car and sent it speeding toward the settlement.

  * * *

  Phelan knew that when the first exchange came his 'Mech would be targeted for destruction. Though well-armored for a light 'Mech, it was nothing in comparison to the Man O'War Conal piloted. That 'Mech was an OmniMech—top-of-the-line Clan war materiel like the Warhawk in which Ranna fought. A single hit by almost any of Conal's weapons would be enough to tear a limb off the Wolfhound.

  The rest of the Thirty-first Solahma had BattleMechs that were equal to or slightly less than what the Kell Hounds had arrayed against them. Because the Thirty-first were intended to be fighting bandits, the Clans wasted none of their new 'Mechs on them. Conal's OmniMech was a relic of the glory he had once known.

  The battle lines were drawn just over a kilometer apart. Ready reports filled Phelan's secondary monitor. The Hounds were ready. He adjusted his pistol and decided he was too. He keyed his radio.

  "Conal Ward, you are hereby stripped of your command of the Thirty-first Wolf Solahma. You are to report to me immediately. You will be placed under arrest, pending a court-martial for insubordination and disobeying a superior officer. All those in your command are hereby offered amnesty if they leave you now."

  He watched his holographic battle display, but, as he expected, none of the Wolves on the other side moved. He spotted Conal in the center of the enemy formation and saw the Red Corsair coming up beside him. "It does not have to end this way, Conal."

  Conal's derisive laugh burst into Phelan's neurohelmet. "I was wrong when I said you were a Wolf before, Phelan. You are still an Inner Sphere weakling. No Wolf would have offered me a second chance to surrender. If you were a true Wolf, one of us would already be dead."

  Phelan flipped his radio over to Tac One. "It is time."

  * * *

  Nelson Geist steered the stolen hovercar through t
he streets he had wandered ages ago. The town was not as neat and clean as it had been in the simulation, but he instantly recognized every aspect of it. It sent a shiver down his spine and started him sweating. He stopped the vehicle, got out-and vomited.

  He remained on his hands and knees, his chest heaving as his stomach tried to purge itself. He mentally demanded that it stop. I am here for a purpose. He wiped his mouth on his left sleeve. She had contempt for me. She saw me as weak. I am not weak!

  Reaching up, he grabbed the edge of the hovercar and pulled himself to his feet. From the car he took the pump shotgun and jacked a shell into the chamber. The weapon dangled from his right hand by the pistolgrip as he stalked across the empty plaza toward the main building. "I know where you are. I have you. You are mine."

  * * *

  The Kell Hound close assault lances entered the gap between the two forces as their fire support lances sent flight after flight of missiles arcing up and over them. Chris Kell fought the leftward rotation of his charging Thunderbolt when its shoulder-mounted LRM launcher sent a flight of fifteen missiles at the enemy. Keeping his crosshairs steady on the Clint that was his target, he let go with his extended range large laser and the trio of medium pulse lasers in his arsenal.

  Two of the pulse lasers missed at that range, but the third slashed open the armor on the Clint's right arm. Semi-molten armor plates dropped to the ground, exposing metal bones, synthetic muscles, and the complex mechanism of the 'Mech's particle projection cannon. The Thunderbolt's large laser thrust a green energy beam into the Clint's chest, melting away all but a thin armor veneer.

  Four of the missiles Chris had launched slammed home in the same spot, blasting away the last of the armor and causing some internal damage. When another set of missiles savaged the armor on the 'Mech's right leg, Chris thought the machine had wobbled a bit, but it stayed upright.