Petty Officer Second Class Shen Dok To swung around too fast, clipping his right elbow against the edge of his panel and cursing as his entire arm went numb with a bone-tingling sensation. Rubbing life back into his arm, he bent over his primary monitor. “We’ve got a strong electromagnetic pulse,” he called out to the watch officer and the other two technicians. “Multiple JumpShips.”
He looked over the numbers again as they printed down his screen in a column of amber against black. His was the main control panel, which routinely sampled data from the other stations. It wasn’t complete, but good enough for initial readings. Now he amended his earlier interpretation. “Or it could be a single ship, right on top of us.”
For interstellar travel, humanity relied on JumpShips. The long, slender vessels were built around the core of a Kearny-Fuchida jump drive that could manipulate energies powerful enough to tear a hole in Einsteinian space and allow a ship to pass through. Leaping up to thirty light years in a single jump, the transition itself was instantaneous. The main drawback was the week or two a starship normally needed to recharge its jump drive by deploying a large sail to collect solar energy.
Recharge stations solved that problem. Or at least offered a better solution. The stations were placed at either the zenith or nadir point of a star system, points far above or below the system’s gravity well. JumpShips entered and left from these points to avoid the tidal forces of these gravity wells, which, on a miscalculated jump, could literally tear the vessel apart. Stations such as Jodo Shinsa deployed kilometers-wide solar sails that charged massive energy storage banks. This energy could be transferred to a JumpShip in a mere six days or, if the JumpShip docked, could be hotloaded in two to four days if it was worth the risk to the JumpShip’s delicate hyper-drive. The recharge stations also fulfilled important secondary roles as cargo way-stations, refueling points for the DropShips used in interplanetary movement, and as maintenance bays for the dry-dock of DropShips or a JumpShip up to a hundred and fifty thousand tons in size.
The station also acted as an early-warning site, using its sensors to detect incoming vessels and identify them as hostile or friendly. In the case of hostile approach, the station could warn the planet, which then had anywhere from a few days up to a couple of weeks to prepare to meet an assault.
Petty Officer Belko, manning his console off to Shen’s left, confirmed the primary operator’s second guess. “Just one,” he said, his normally strong voice weak with surprise. “Merchant Class JumpShip four hundred fifty kilometers off our forward port hull. Her IR signature corresponds with the Liu. I’m patching video over to Shen.”
Shen didn’t understand the other man’s concern. The Liu was a merchant ship that routinely made runs from Kaifeng, transporting the planet’s substantial food surplus to the other Sarna Supremacy worlds of Sakhalin and Sarna and to various other nearby planets. Four hundred fifty kilometers was close, as distances go in space, but he wouldn’t have thought Belko could be shaken so easily. Then his primary screen cleared and painted up the Jump-Ship’s video image. His mouth dried, leaving behind only the metallic taste of reprocessed air. Shen heard a whispered “Blake’s blood” from the watch officer, who was looking at the screen over Shen’s shoulder from her own station behind him.
The Liu was a wreck. Its hull showed several gaping rents, and a few smaller ones that continued to bleed air into the vacuum. The air froze immediately, forming thin streams of ice crystals that trailed out into space. Debris hung suspended around the JumpShip, any momentum robbed by being pulled through the jump. Shen thought he recognized a few larger chunks as halves of aerospace fighters. Thrushes, possibly, ships that might have been just a little too close when the hyperspace field formed around the starship in preparation for the jump. And trailing behind the JumpShip was what was left of its solar sail, now a torn and mangled mass. Jumping with sail deployed was an invitation to get stranded wherever you arrived, and was just one more sign of the wounded vessel’s apparent desperation.
“DropShips,” Shen said, too stunned to notice much else besides the two empty docking collars.
Petty Officer Davidson had swum over to the console that controlled the tracking and identification equipment. “I’ve already tagged at least two large pieces of… something. Could be off the primary hull of a DropShip.”
Shen shook his head as if to clear it, then realized the ringing in his ears was the continued beeping of the master alarm circuit. He brushed a hand impatiently over the mac’s cutoff switch, silencing it, while he tried to sort things out in his mind. It didn’t make sense. JumpShips were considered inviolate, the supreme example of lostech. Centuries of warfare had taken their toll on the Inner Sphere, to the point where the technology to produce these interstellar vessels had become seriously threatened. No JumpShips meant neither trade nor war, two instruments of state policy no government wanted to do without.
“Transponders?” the watch officer, Leftenant Ellen Harris asked, starting to shake off her own surprise.
Shen was already pulling the information through to his console. “IFF transponders are intermittent. Not surprising considering the power fluctuations they must be going through over there. But it’s the Liu.”
“I’m getting voice communication,” Petty Officer Davidson said. She threw a few switches and sent the transmission to the bridge speaker. Static rolled across the bridge, punctuated by words robbed of their emotion by the poor transmission quality.
“…Liu. Are you receiving us, Kaifeng Station?”
The watch officer nodded as she spoke. “We receive you, Liu. What is your status?”
Her calm response seemed to lend strength to the operator on the other end. “Kaifeng Station. Main bridge is smashed. We’re running the ship from out of Secondary Control. Severe loss of atmosphere and energy fluctuations. Main drive is out but under repair.”
Leftenant Harris could not restrain herself. “What happened, Liu? Who attacked you?”
Shen had visions of some kind of massive strike from out of the Capellan Confederation. The resurrected Sarna Supremacy was still in its infancy, and uncertainty over what Sun-Tzu Liao might try next was a dark specter that hung over everything the Supremacy was trying to build. But Shen didn’t fear this so much as he actually felt relieved. No more worry over what the future might hold. The Supremacy would have to stand up to the Liao sooner or later if it was going to survive. Better now, he and most of his comrades thought, while the Capellan Confederation was still rebuilding its power. Hurt them, and make them understand that the Sarna Supremacy was better left alone.
The JumpShip’s answer, when it came, was as much a disappointment as a relief.
“Jodo Shinsa Station, this is the SMM Liu. Raiders from the disputed territories—we think either the planets Menkib or Zaurak—tried to hit Sakhalin. We were on site and holding position for the return of our DropShips. The raiders hit us hard, possibly trying to silence us so we couldn’t warn Sakhalin. We jumped—it was our only chance.”
Shen had been waiting for a break in the conversation, and now spoke up before Leftenant Harris could digress further from what was clearly an emergency situation. “Watch Officer, recommend we dispatch tugs at once to bring the Liu in to the Number One maintenance bay. The DropShip Annabelle Lee is there right now, but she can be moved to one of the smaller bays. I also suggest we wake the commander. And double the guards around the station.” That last was a standing order in the event the Sarna Supremacy ever entered a situation that threatened war. While this raid might not qualify, Shen preferred to err on the side of conservatism and it was his duty to make recommendations.
The Liu came back before Leftenant Harris could respond. “Our engineer just reported engines working. We can start in on our own power, but tugs would be appreciated.”
Harris nodded. “Do it. I’ll buzz the station commander.” She picked up the sound-powered phone and selected the commander’s cabin. Before ringing him, though, she turned to the
fifth member of the bridge team. The sentry carried an assault rifle and wore the dark gray uniform of the Sarna Martial Academy.
“Better wake your buddies,” she told him. “We’re going to double the guards, and the rest might be of use down in the maintenance bay to help search for wounded and to recover bodies.”
Shen was already hard at work, relaying orders over his own phone circuit, backing them with computer-delivered verification when necessary. One thing was for sure, he thought. No one would be complaining about boring off-shifts for a while.
2
JumpShip Liu
Zenith Jump Point, Kaifeng System
Sarna Supremacy, Chaos March
10 July 3058
The Liu’s grav deck held a gallery, two recreation rooms, an all-purpose metal shop, crew berthing, and three staterooms normally reserved for the JumpShip officers. Ty Wu Non had commandeered one of these last, turning it into his office for the operation.
Lance Leader Aris Sung stood just within the doorway, waiting impatiently to be recognized by the elder Hiritsu warrior, who sat at his desk studying internal schematics for an Olympus Class recharge station. More out of impatience than concern, Aris checked his watch again. He noted that less than thirty minutes remained before the Liu was to dock with the Jodo Shinsa, and he clenched his hands into fists so hard that his fingernails dug painfully into his palms. It was thirty minutes he could be using to brief his assault team or to review the internal layout of the recharge station as Ty was doing. A half hour that could be better spent almost anywhere than being ignored or in argument with the second most powerful person in House Hiritsu.
With Ty and Aris, it was usually one or the other.
Aris Sung had not fallen on that five-kilometer run eleven years earlier. He didn’t think Ty Wu Non had ever forgiven him that. The memory always resurfaced when Aris was forced to endure Ty’s presence. That long five kilometers—swallowing dust, feet and muscles sore, back whipped raw and stinging from the lash. And Ty running alongside him the entire way, Nakjama laser pistol in hand as he heaped on a stream of verbal abuse the whole way. Aris had never told Ty, hadn’t even wanted to admit it to himself, that it was Ty’s constant belittling that fueled his own drive to survive the run that first day.
Ty Wu Non had not gone away after that run. As Aris’ personal Mentor he remained an active part of his life, teaching him the customs and traditions of House Hiritsu and overseeing all phases of his training. All Warrior Houses were comprised of a battalion of BattleMechs and one of specialized infantry. In House Hiritsu, MechWarrior trainees spent their first four years training alongside the infantry to season them and to develop a stronger bond than normally existed between BattleMech pilots and their unaugmented cousins. Ty had enlisted the aid of the more vicious infantry Mentors, putting Aris through the paces at a faster, harder rate to make up for his late start at thirteen. Aris had learned anti-Mech tactics as well as how to operate as a scout, infiltrator, and assassin. When he’d single-handedly stopped an enemy ’Mech from killing Virginia York—only sixteen years old but already a full infantryman—the House Master had praised Ty’s work as Mentor and promoted Ty to her BattleMech honor guard.
Aris was granted the right to begin his higher education, including training in ’Mech operations and tactics. Which suited him at the time. Everything in its place.
At twenty Aris again defeated House Master York in simulated BattleMech combat. That earned him his katana, the sword carried by all House warriors. It also earned Ty another promotion, this time to company leader. Virginia York assigned Aris to Ty’s company, and thereby continued the pattern. When Aris accomplished anything, he also strengthened Ty’s position in the House. Aris’ promotion to lance leader was followed hard by Ty’s to senior company leader, which placed him next in line as House Master.
Aris was willing to bet that Ty was already cogitating how he could take full credit for the assault on Kaifeng.
It had been Ion Rush, Master of House Imarra, who’d identified Kaifeng as the weak point in the Sarna Supremacy’s armor. Kaifeng was not heavily populated, nor of great strategic value. What it did have were thousands of square kilometers of some of the best agricultural land to be found anywhere. Sarna relied heavily on Kaifeng’s food surplus, as did Sakhalin, the third Supremacy world, which was a frozen waste and was only able to grow crops in expensive greenhouse environments. Remove Kaifeng, and the Sarna Supremacy could feed itself only by digging deep into its budget, including military spending, or it would starve.
Either result served the Capellan Confederation.
When House Master Virginia York returned from a conference on Sian with orders to assault Kaifeng and deny the Supremacy its breadbasket world, Aris had taken it from there.
He was recognized within House Hiritsu as an innovative tactician, and when the final recommendations were made Virginia York endorsed his plan. That plan had two parts. The first was to take control of the Kaifeng recharge station and deny the surface of the planet advance notice of the assault. Using the Liu as a Trojan horse would accomplish that. The second part was a surprise attack that would leave the Capellan Confederation in control of the world. Should leave the Capellan Confederation in control of the world. Might leave the Capellan Confederation…
Still waiting by the door, shifting from foot to foot, Aris frowned. As he turned the situation over in his mind, it bothered him even now. The Kaifeng SMM, First Battalion of the Sarna Martial Academy regiment, garrisoned the planet. Regular troops, and extremely loyal to their fledgling state. Aris Sung had heard good things about the Sarna Martial Academy. And while the academy couldn’t possibly match a Warrior House in training, the fact remained that the Kaifeng SMM was far more battle-experienced. Blooded warriors, that was the old term. House Hiritsu consisted mostly of green troops, having been held in reserve during the Chaos March fighting the year before. How did the saying go? Something about the meeting of armies of equal or near-equal strength being a recipe for disaster?
He couldn’t help wondering about the rumors he’d heard over the last few months, rumors that Imarra Master Ion Rush was attempting to curb Warrior Houses whose loyalty was suspect by sending them on questionable missions. House LuSann had been sent on an extended campaign into the Chaos March. And House Ijori sent up into the Arc-Royal Defense Cordon. To test themselves, Master Rush had said, against Clan Jade Falcon. To blunt themselves, the rumors whispered. Both Ijori and LuSann were thought to have strong ties to Kali Liao. Was there a similar intent in House Hiritsu’s assignment to attack Kaifeng? Aris didn’t think it likely. Virginia York was loyal to Sun-Tzu. And the will of the House Master was the will of the House.
The will of the House Master was to take Kaifeng.
Aris Sung shook away his doubts. He owed much to Virginia York, and the thought of failing her now was so alien as to be inconceivable. At age twenty-four he was the youngest lance leader in House Hiritsu since before the Fourth Succession War. And he’d earned his way at every step. House Master York pushed him hard, always testing his commitment and his ability. He didn’t even begrudge her repeated placement of Ty Wu Non over him, realizing that was just another of her methods. So he would concentrate on the current task, leaving the broader political issues in her capable hands.
“Report,” Ty finally barked out, not bothering to look over his shoulder in even the semblance of courtesy.
Aris stiffened, but a few deep breaths helped calm him. Courtesy was a major element of Hiritsu traditions, following the teachings of K’ung-fu-tzu incorporated into House Hiritsu’s vows decades before. Ty’s deliberate rudeness was a calculated attempt to make Aris say or do something foolish. Then he could remove the young warrior from the order of battle, which Aris would detest more than anything.
“Everything is proceeding according to schedule,” Aris answered crisply. “We still have clearance for the station’s maintenance bay, which means we won’t have to attempt a space transfer. Contact
in”—he checked his watch again—“twenty-two minutes. We’ll be dry-docked within the hour.”
Finding the Liu had been the first step in Aris’ plan for the assault on Kaifeng. Because of the sacrosanct status of JumpShips, several officers of House Hiritsu had balked when he’d first proposed his plan. But they’d finally agreed when he showed them how the House could acquire a merchant JumpShip, and that most of the damage would be superficial.
“When will they receive verification from Sakhalin?”
Aris thought about that for a moment. Arranging the raid against Sakhalin had been more difficult, requiring concessions to Menkib and making sure nothing could be traced back to House Hiritsu. That diversionary force should have fully withdrawn from the Sakhalin system by now after creating a lot of confusion. “Sakhalin should have already transmitted news of the attempted raid via ComStar’s hyperpulse generator network. Sarna and Kaifeng should both have it. There’s roughly a four-hour lag in communications between the recharge station and the planet.” Aris did some quick and easy math in his head. “I’d say by the time we dry-dock, the recharge station will have received some word of the situation.”
Company Leader Non glanced back and gave Aris a once-over with a casual flick of his gaze. “House Master York arrives with our ’Mechs in less than ten hours. Do you see any difficulties?”
Aris shrugged his indifference to the question, which he felt was quite ignorant. “If we aren’t in control of the situation within the first ten minutes or so, we lose our advantage.”
Binding Force Page 3
