From the immediate look of fear on the ’Mech pilot’s face, it was obvious he thought the pack was real. Aris held up the thermometer, hand hiding most of it and thumb poised over its end like it was a remote activating trigger. Now he matched gazes with the MechWarrior, riding out the bluff with what he hoped was the zealous expression of a true fanatic. He worked at not blinking, widening his eyes only slightly and then relaxing them. A good unblinking stare could sometimes be as unnerving as facing a bomb.
Aris could read the man’s indecision. There was no way to brush Aris off his ’Mech before the supposed explosives were triggered. Then there was the fact that Stingers were notorious for their cramped conditions, and that the two-meter by two-meter viewscreen opened up onto the entire cockpit. Most of the blast would be deflected downward, and if the explosives were real, Aris would cease to exist. But thanks to the metal overhang, some of it would likely penetrate the viewscreen and then there was nowhere for the pilot to go. He’d die instantly, if he was lucky, or sit there strapped into his command couch while the cockpit burned around him.
Of course, there was the cockpit ejection feature. Aris caught the pilot’s nervous glance toward those controls, the man obviously trying to judge whether he could hope to punch out before the blast caught him too. Aris smiled slowly, daring him to try it. For a moment he thought he’d gone too far, and that the other man just might, but then the MechWarrior’s shoulders sagged back in defeat.
The final option was obvious. Surrender. There would be no leniency, not for a renegade. But apparently the man thought it better to gamble that his captors might be somewhat more forgiving than an explosive satchel going off in his face.
Aris never let his elation show, protecting his victory. He kept eye contact with the MechWarrior right up to the point when other Hiritsu infantrymen climbed up and pulled the man from his cockpit. Then he rode the grapple rod back down to the ground and retrieved his assault rifle.
Virginia York met Arts as he came off the stage, handing him a neurohelmet. She was dripping wet, her black hair plastered to her skull, but seemed to project an air of satisfaction all the same. She handed him the neurohelmet.
“You caught it,” she said simply. “Now learn to use it.”
7
DropShip Lao-tzu
Inbound, Kaifeng System
Sarna Supremacy, Chaos March
19 July 3058
The four House Hiritsu DropShips continued to decelerate, holding their widely spaced diamond formation. Each vessel’s aft end pointed toward the area of space the world of Kaifeng would occupy in exactly ten hours. Long plumes of glowing plasma speared out into the darkness of space like some kind of hellish flashlight, marking their path ahead.
The Dainwu, an egg-shaped Overlord Class ship, was the obvious head of the diamond, painted the Hiritsu colors of green and black and bearing the House insignia of a radiant white katana against a field of stars. The massive DropShip could have easily carried House Hiritsu’s full battalion of BattleMechs as well as its six Thrush aerospace fighters, but such concentration would also have limited their tactical flexibility.
Twin Union Class DropShips anchored the outside points of the diamond, their spheroid shapes two gray teardrops against the blackness of space. Like the Overlord, each one held a full company of twelve BattleMechs as well as two fighters. The Unions had also crammed a full platoon of infantry with transport vehicles into the bays, allowing a good mix of ’Mech, ground, and air support.
The base of the diamond was supported by a slightly less-massive Intruder. Carrying the bulk of the infantry, nearly three platoons, it would drop with the Overlord and Ty Wu Non.
Aboard the Union Class DropShip Lao-tzu, Aris studied the holographic model of House Hiritsu’s flight formation while the last of his company filed into the briefing room and took seats. He couldn’t find anything wrong with the arrangement or disposition of troops, though Hiritsu’s limited aerospace support had always made him uneasy. The twenty-five ton Thrushes weren’t good for much more than reconnaissance. But Kaifeng didn’t have heavy aerospace assets either, and coming in with surprise meant no fighter screen to penetrate. No, he saw nothing particularly wrong. Yet a growing unease kept him from relaxing.
“Where’s Lance Leader Chan?” Aris asked. Leaning forward he idly tapped at the controls on the holographic projector. The projector, mounted in the center of the table, went dark.
Mech Warrior Justin Loup cleared his throat uneasily. “Lance Leader Chan is down in communications, sending an acknowledgment of Battalion Commander Non’s last set of changes. She said to start without her.”
Aris forced himself not to frown. Except for critical communications, a transmissions blackout was to have gone into effect at exactly the twelve-hour point. As Aris’ second in command Terry Chan could send messages over her own authority, but she should have spoken with Aris personally rather than relay through a junior Mech-Warrior. Aris had no doubt that it was merely another carefully orchestrated show of contempt. One he might be forced to take issue with now that he was her superior, but better to do so in private rather than in front of his people.
“Well, Terry Chan and I have been over this enough in the last few days,” he said, brushing off the matter as if it was of little consequence. “For that matter, so have we all. And after this briefing I want everyone in their rooms for down time. See the physician if you need chemicals, but I want everyone rested. We power up in seven hours.”
Arts reached out and punched a few more keys on the holographic controls, bringing it back on line but this time with a computer-generated model of Kaifeng floating above the metal briefing table. With a quick nod for Lance Leader Raven Clearwater to take over the controls, Aris rose from his seat and began a slow circuit of the room.
He moved easily, comfortable in the artificial gravity created by the DropShip’s constant deceleration. Braking at just under twelve meters per second, the Lao-tzu was able to duplicate Kaifeng’s heavy 1.1 standard gravity. To acclimatize his warriors, Ty Wu Non had ordered the initial burn toward Kaifeng started at 1.5 standard, trailing off slowly over several days until at the midpoint all DropShips were holding at 1.1. Now all of them moved naturally, comfortably, and on the planet’s surface there would be no distraction from combat.
A method I shall remember, Aris thought.
“I would hope by now,” he said, “that all troops have familiarized themselves with Kaifeng. Sixty percent of its land mass is heavy jungle, and if we’re ever forced into that area we’re in trouble. It’s dense and wet and we don’t know it half as well as the natives. So we avoid it. That simple.”
Aris didn’t bother to mention that the nearest heavy jungle to their site of operations was over three hundred kilometers away, and that being forced that far off track would mean much greater trouble than simply having to deal with dense undergrowth. Focusing their worries on a distant threat would make any up close and personal dangers, like heated battle with the Kaifeng SMM, seem preferable.
“The rest of the land mass has been cultivated into some of the most productive agricultural land in the Inner Sphere. Kaifeng feeds itself, Sarna, and Sakhalin, as well as some nearby worlds. The farmland is clumped into three large districts, one in the southern hemisphere and two in the northern. Each district is administered by a single large city—Franklin in the south, Beijing and—our target—Tarrahause in the north. The largest city, Mahabohdi, is situated outside the Beijing District. It has the only full-service spaceport on the planet, is the administrative capital, and is the primary garrison of the Kaifeng SMM.”
Aris drew in a steadying breath. There had been a lot of debate over this next point, one of the lynch pins to the plan he had developed. “Most assaults would target Mahabodhi, seeking to capture the spaceport and defeat the garrison force. This is precisely what we’re not going to do.” An assault against the capital would be costly to both sides, and was by no means a certain victory.
&nb
sp; “Our mission profile specifies the taking of Kaifeng, yes. But what Imarra House Master Ion Rush really wants from us is to deny food to the Sarna Supremacy. So we accomplish both by shutting off the flow of surplus crops into Mahabohdi.”
Without needing to be told, Lance Leader Clearwater highlighted each of the four cities involved in the assault plan. Aris continued his circuit. “The three district cities act as gathering points. Surplus food is routed from them to Mahabohdi via conventional transport. House Hiritsu will take control of these three cities, effectively shutting off nearly all export of food supplies. This will force the Kaifeng SMM to leave the protection of Mahabohdi and come after us. We can then deal with them as we see fit.”
Justin Loup leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him and staring speculatively at the projection of Kaifeng. “Do we have any more information on mercenary presence?”
Aris nodded. That was a chief concern. The Sarna Supremacy had been hiring mercenaries recently, preparing to expand its influence over other worlds inside the disputed territories. “From intercepted civilian holovid signals, we estimate that there are no more than two companies of mercenaries on planet, likely scattered between the three district cities.”
“So the most we should have to contend with is a company of mercs.” Lance Leader Clearwater rubbed at the edge of her tanned jaw. “Or maybe a double lance, supported by one lance of Kaifeng SMM troops.”
“Right,” Aris said, nodding his agreement. “And we’ll use the same tactics at company level as at battalion level.” He waited while Lance Leader Clearwater pulled up the next map. Just as well Terry Chan wasn’t present, he thought. She might have chosen to fight him on this and that wouldn’t have sat well with his people.
The model of Kaifeng disappeared, to be replaced by a flat contour map that lay over the center of the briefing table. The area was stripped of almost all detail, with general green and green-brown covering denoting the level of vegetation and grid squares dividing up the territory into one-kilometer sections. What looked like blurry gray foothills occupied one corner, sitting next to a large lake. Aris leaned in to flick his right hand over the spot. “Tarrahause,” he said, fanning the blurry gray projections. “Sitting on Lake Ch’u Yuan.” He traced a ribbon of blue that meandered diagonally across the map, connecting at the lake’s northeast and southwest corners. “And this is the Jinxiang River.”
Aris straightened and allowed the others a few minutes to study the terrain. It wasn’t perfectly to scale, but accurate enough to give them an immediate feel for distances and directions. “The farmland surrounding Tarrahause is devoted mostly to the production of rice, vegetables, and fruits. At four hundred million metric tons, rice is Kaifeng’s number one export. We are responsible for shutting that down.” He looked at Raven Clearwater. “Enlarge the upper river.”
What had been a thin blue ribbon widened into a large band surrounded by multiple strands of blue. “Along almost all of the Jinxiang are large rice paddies, fed by tributaries or irrigation. The rice is harvested and moved to large collection sites along the river, where it can be stored. It is then shipped down river by large barges to Tarrahause and from there flown over to Mahabohdi for export. We don’t want to ruin the stores or the current harvest, but we will if that’s what it takes. Better to take and control the collection sites, denying any further shipments into Tarrahause. That will draw out the Tarrahause garrison. We’ll hit them hard once they’re outside the city, either destroying or crippling them. Second Company will employ similar tactics at Franklin, but Battalion Commander Non will lead Third Company in a direct assault against Beijing. Beijing has to fall quickly because it’s so close to Mahabohdi and could receive immediate support from the Kaifeng SMM garrison.”
And that should be that. Aris played his gaze over the network of rivers and streams. The plan felt solid in his mind, but he couldn’t shake a feeling of unease over the entire mission. “Questions? Observations?”
Raven Clearwater nodded. Her long black hair was braided on one side into several plaits and tied with wooden beads that clacked together when her head moved. “What about the main road that follows the river’s course? Is there a backup transportation system?”
“Only sufficient to supply Tarrahause itself with food. And if they start pressing extra transports into service, we can shut that road down very easily. It passes over too many bridges to be dependable.”
“You have us formed into two demi-companies working close together,” Justin Loup observed. “Why not break down into our three lances or even two-Mech elements? We could strike along a large section of river front simultaneously.”
Aris’ muscles tensed, but he forced himself to relax by beginning to walk a slow circuit around the briefing room. Terry Chan had also submitted such a plan, which Aris had rejected, and he wondered now if she was trying to make her point again in front of the company by working through Justin. Possible. Terry Chan had likely reasoned that Aris was being overly cautious, or perhaps that was her standing opinion of him.
He couldn’t shake the thought that Ion Rush had recently been ordering Warrior Houses of questionable loyalties into extended campaigns that would thin their ranks. If this was another such mission, then Aris couldn’t rely on intelligence supplied by the Imarra Master. But he couldn’t explain that, not without undermining the chain of command and sowing suspicion among his own people concerning House unity. That was a sure way to lose the battle before it began.
“Our goal,” he said, “my goal, is to make it into Tarrahause without losing one BattleMech or infantryman. I want fast movement down the river, yes, but I don’t want us spread so thin that we can’t react to a threat. There might be ’Mech patrols, troop garrisons, or other defenses we don’t know about. A demi-company running into a standard four-’Mech patrol can hold its own. And by working in close proximity, the demi-companies can support each other should something like that occur.”
Aris gave his warriors a thin smile, softening his voice only slightly as he fed them the final hook. “When Battalion Commander Ty Wu Non catches up with us at Tarrahause, I’d like for us to be in control of the city and receiving him with a formation that includes every last warrior we started with.”
He saw the silent smiles and private nods around the table as his people all considered that challenge. Flawless victory. That was what he wanted to sell them on. He completed his circuit of the room, coming back to his seat at the head of the table, and he placed his hands on the back of it.
“The will of the House Master is the will of the House,” he whispered in near-reverent tones, “and the will of the House Master was to take Kaifeng with minimal losses.” He waited a moment for those words to fully sink in, until he was sure that everyone knew that Aris referred to Virginia York as much as Ty Wu Non. Then he straightened.
“Get some rest,” he ordered, then turned and went out through the door of the briefing room.
8
DropShip Lao-tzu
Inbound, Kaifeng System
Sarna Supremacy, Chaos March
20 July 3058
The general quarters alarm on the Lao-tzu sounded much like the one on the Kaifeng Recharge Station—a harsh, computer-generated gong. It rang out seven times, the first two or three chimes shocking everyone into a few seconds’ inactivity. With the DropShip an hour away from entry into Kaifeng’s atmosphere and with no indication of being spotted, the last thing anyone expected was to hear an alarm promising such immediate danger.
In the DropShip’s lower ’Mech bay, Aris was the first to move—walking briskly toward his BattleMech and yelling, “Stations!” at technicians and other MechWarriors. There was a loud clanging as someone dropped a heavy tool against the metal deck, then everyone was moving as if that sound had shattered the invisible web holding them motionless. No one ran. Running could be dangerous within the narrow corridors of a DropShip and promoted panicked behavior. And there was little speaking except for those few in
position to give orders at these times.
Following the seventh gong a high-pitched whistle sounded over the ship’s PA system, demanding attention.
One of the bridge officers came on and called for everyone to move quickly to their general quarters station. His deep voice sounded confident, and he gave no indication of the problem. But then the Lao-tzu trembled, throwing a slight hitch into everyone’s stride as the deceleration-induced gravity fluctuated for an instant, and Aris knew that they’d just been struck by weapons fire.
It seemed the battle for Kaifeng had been joined sooner than they’d expected.
Aris’ Wraith was berthed in its cubicle next to the main bay doors, looking like a giant armored sentinel that would let pass only those it favored. Aris loved the look of his ’Mech, even though it was a Free Worlds League design instead of Capellan-originated. The smooth, segmented body had a fully streamlined appearance lacking on many BattleMechs. Its head had been molded down into the shoulders, offering better shock absorption, and its narrow, turret-style waist possessed an incredible range of pivoting motion. Twin medium pulse-laser barrels curved out from its left elbow like spurs while the Wraith’s main armament, a Tronel XIII large pulse laser, extended out along the outside of the right arm. With an LTV 385 Extra-Light fusion engine at its heart and Curtiss jump jets mounted just behind, the Wraith was the fastest, most maneuverable ’Mech design possible for its weight class. Aris and a few techs had painstakingly applied the blued-steel look of a rifle barrel to the BattleMech’s armor plating, giving it the polished, deadly look of a weapon.
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