Ryan smiled. "The lesson you spoke of earlier ... I think I have learned it. If I am to be Archon, I must learn to pit enemies against each other. I must trust no one's word unless I have some evidence that this person will keep it. And in a political bargain, I must always look for a thumb on the scales. Everyone is out for himself."
Alessandro smiled broadly. "You do see what I have been teaching you. Remember, there is nothing in the universe more desirable than being Archon. Winning that post does not so much depend upon your being able to outrun opponents. What it requires is that you cut down the competition as ruthlessly as possible."
Ryan returned Alessandro's smile. "Then let us begin with Uncle Frederick..."
10
Nashira
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine
27 April 3029
Akira Brahe turned to study his father's strong profile in the light of Nashira's bloody moon. The face looked like it might have been chiseled from stone. How can he look out over this destruction and maintain an expression so devoid of emotion? Yorinaga Kurita narrowed his dark, almond-shaped eyes. It is as though he is trying to make sense of what the Kell Hounds has done to Nashira in their assault.
From high atop the Genyosha base's command center, Akira followed his father's gaze over the damage left by the mercenaries. Every building in the base, save the one where they stood, had been flattened with a vengeance. Some had vanished without a trace. With the others, the debris was not scattered randomly as it would have been if a battle had raged at the base, but was concentrated at the site where each building had stood.
Akira frowned heavily, irritation and anger like sparks in his tawny eyes. He nervously ran the fingers of his left hand through his close-cropped bronze hair. "It makes no sense, sosen. Why would the mercenaries do this?"
Yorinaga turned slowly toward his son. "No sense? Explain to me what confuses you."
Akira, stung by his father's tone, stiffened. "Do you ask this as my father, or order it as the Tai-sa of the GenyoshaT'
Yorinaga bowed his gray-haired head. "Sumimasen, Akira. Forgive me. I did not mean to rebuke you or seem to question your abilities." Yorinaga looked again at the pattern of destruction. "It is just that I desire to see all this with your eyes. Perhaps your eyes are less blind than mine."
Akira nodded. "I wonder about more than just what the Kell Hounds did to our base. It makes sense to me that they would destroy it. They would have expected us to be here, and we were not." Akira waved a hand to take in the full circle of ruins. "The strange thing is that their actions were inconsistent with what our Internal Security Forces tell us about the tactics of mercenary scum."
Akira licked his lips. The ISF tells us all mercenaries are without honor, but I did not see that on Northwind when fighting against Team Banzai or even the group masquerading as the Kell Hounds Third 'Mech Battalion, Bradley's Bravos. They fought for more than money. They fought like true warriors.
Yorinaga allowed himself a brief smile. "I am certain reports of this incident will cause some confusion in the court at Luthien. While we are out attacking Northwind because the ISF reported the Kell Hounds are there, the Kell Hounds have penetrated Combine security and learned of our home base. They hit it, only to find we are not here, while we discover they are not at Northwind."
Akira smiled. "Luthien will also have to puzzle over why the Kell Hounds ordered all the civilians to clear out from the base, and why they gave them five hours to move all of the Genyosha's personal effects from the buildings they intended to destroy." Akira looked down at the building on which they stood. "And they'll wonder why the command center was spared."
Yorinaga narrowed his eyes. "Morgan Kell ordered the civilians out and allowed them to move our possessions because he wanted it clearly understood that his war has nothing to do with the Draconis Combine, or even the Genyosha." Yorinaga looked at his son. "And the reason he left this building standing is because it was from this point that he orchestrated the base's ruin."
Yorinaga pointed toward a pile of debris. "See where the natatorium stood? Notice how the stones seem scattered randomly, but fall in a cross-shaped pattern beside that largest pile?"
Akira shrugged. "I supposed some Christians had arranged those stones in memory of a comrade they believed trapped in the building when it was destroyed."
The Genyosha's leader smiled. "Your assumption was correct, but you attribute it to someone here on Nashira. You will recall that the ISF learned that Morgan Kell retreated to a Christian monastery on Zaniah while I was in exile on Echo. Kell ordered the stones laid in that pattern to mark the place where his brother died."
Akira frowned, trying to remember the name of the world where Patrick Kell had been slain. That happened back before I joined the Genyosha. "Styx? That system is just a collection of asteroids." Akira smacked his right palm against his forehead. "Just as the natatorium is reduced to a collection of blocks."
Yorinaga smiled, pleased with his son's perception. "This building represents Terra, and the rubble piles mark the location of worlds to a rough distance of 130 light years out."
Though never schooled in astronavigation, Akira had learned enough from talking with JumpShip crewmembers to recognize the placement of some worlds. "Why, sosen? What earthly purpose could this star map have?"
Yorinaga drew in a deep breath. "As you have guessed, the sort of blind stabs we, the Genyosha, and the Kell Hounds, engaged in back in January could continue forever. We might never be at the same place at the same time, and Morgan Kell took precautions against that happening again."
Yorinaga pointed at a ruin off toward the northeast. "That pile represents the Steiner world of Ryde. Around it you can see three smaller piles of bricks—these taken from buildings other than the one transformed into Ryde. They represent the world's three moons."
Akira nodded. "They are positioned in a manner that indicates when the Genyosha should appear there?"
"In June," Yorinaga said. "Only a month from now. We can just make it in time."
Akira drew himself up to his full height. "Sumimasen, Tai-sa, put it down to my mother's Scandinavian blood or to my poor training with the Eleventh Legion of Vega, but how do you know this will not be a trap?"
Yorinaga shook his head slowly. "Morgan Kell would not do that. No, this is the last act in a play that began sixteen years ago on Mallory's World."
The garish light of Nashira's red moon painted scarlet highlights over Akira's face. "That would be 3013. I thought your fight with Morgan Kell took place in 3016."
Yorinaga closed his eyes and tried to relax, but Akira saw the tension in his father's slender frame. "Kell and I first opposed each other in 3013. My battalion of the Second Sword of Light had succeeded in trapping the command company of the Fourth Davion Guards in a maze of canyons. Our aerowing controlled the skies over this area, which prevented the Davion Guards from jumping scouts onto the ridgelines to find a way out. With the fighters to spot for us, we knew where to hunt for our quarry, but without scouts, they did not know where to run or hide."
Yorinaga massaged his forehead with his left hand. "If ever there was a glorious battle, this was it. Prince Ian Davion, on sheer strength of personality, kept his troops together. He sprang ambushes on us, but never let his rear guard get trapped. On the few occasions when we engaged his people in a real firefight, the Prince's Atlas was always the last 'Mech to withdraw.
"We finally trapped the company in a canyon that tapered down into a narrow route out. Prince Ian held my people back, delivering salvo after salvo of long-range missile fire that savaged the 'Mechs of my command. When his missiles were exhausted, he used his autocannon and medium lasers to halt our advance as his command trickled out of the canyon."
Yorinaga's eyes snapped open. "You should have seen it, Akira. That Atlas shrugged off our assaults as though they were pesky flies. Armor flew from the 'Mech in sheets of molten debris, but Ian Davion made no move to retreat. Here he was, leader o
f the Federated Suns, almost as important as Takashi Kurita himself, but he would not turn and run. Seldom is such a warrior born outside the Combine."
Yorinaga's nostrils flared as he remembered, and Akira listened, spellbound. "I ordered my troops back, then brought my Warhammer forward to engage the Prince. We both knew I would kill him, but I believe he took comfort in knowing I would give him a warrior's death.
"He was magnificent in battle. He moved his Atlas with an agility I've seen in only a handful of Mech Warriors. His last volley with the autocannon all but tore off my Warhammer's left arm and his lasers raked over my armor like the claws of some angry beast. He was spectacular, but I was better."
Yorinaga was fully caught up in the memory. "I pushed my Warhammer to the limit and beyond. I fired my particle projection cannons in tandem, ignoring the waves of heat building up through the cockpit. Sweat poured into my eyes in a stinging flood, but I kept my sights on the Atlas by feel and sense more than by vision. My 'Mech and I moved almost as one as we drilled PPC beams through the Atlas's armor. Explosions in the Mech's chest flashed like lightning trapped in a thunderhead, and I knew the machine was all but dead. Prince Ian would have ejected, I am certain, but one of my short-range missiles had exploded against the Atlas's head and sealed the canopy. Leaking black smoke from a dozen mortal wounds, the Atlas teetered, then fell to its back on that armor-littered canyon floor."
Yorinaga's voice cut off abruptly. Akira studied his father's shadowed face. I've never seen him look so angry, so outraged, so humiliated. . .
When Yorinaga spoke again, his voice was choked into a hoarse whisper. "I moved in to see if the Prince yet lived. If so, I would capture him. If not, I meant to bring the Dragon proof that his hated enemy was truly dead. I never got the chance.
"Two companies of the Kell Hounds appeared on the ridgeline as if by sorcery. A voice, one I would come to know as Morgan Kell's, broke into our tactical channel. 'Leave him alone.' It was a warning and a challenge and a plea all wrapped up in one, but I ignored it.
"A Shilone fighter from the air lance covering us screamed down out of sky and lined up for a pass at Kell's Archer. Instantly, the Archer's missile racks vomited out two clouds of LRMs. The missiles rose on vapor trails that all converged on the attacking fighter. Their combined explosions rivaled the sun for half a second, then the Shilone's flaming wreckage slammed into the canyon wall, showering the battlefield with thousands of firebrands."
Yorinaga's voice seethed with anger and disgust. "The jump-capable Kell Hound 'Mechs dropped down into the canyon. With one shot, Salome Ward's Wolverine snapped my Warhammer's left arm off. Kell's Archer launched flight after flight of LRMs at the troops behind me, yet staggered his assaults so they could withdraw if they wished. His air lance reclaimed the skies over the canyon, preventing us from rising to the ridges to oppose them.
"Clearly, he wanted nothing more than to save the Prince. He did not press his advantage against us as we had in hounding Ian Davion to his death. He stole all the glory and honor from my greatest victory."
Akira swallowed past the thick lump in his throat. "What happened later, in 3016? All I know are vague rumors. When the ISF came to our home and arrested Mother and me, they only said you'd disgraced yourself and the Dragon. They laughed and said we were to become slaves ... if we were lucky." Akira looked into his father's eyes. "What could you have done that was so terrible?"
Yorinaga's eyes slitted. "For killing the Prince, Takashi Kurita promoted me to Tai-sa of the Second Sword of Light—a great honor. I would control the Dragon's personal regiment. I was given free rein to plan operations and direct our battle for Mailory's World. I spent three years developing my master plan, but throughout that time, I had but one goal. I was not out to conquer Mallory's World as much as I desired to crush the Kell Hounds and avenge myself upon Morgan Kell.
Yorinaga looked at his son. "Everything was perfect. The Thirty-sixth Dieron Regulars managed to pin down the Kell Hounds' Second 'Mech Battalion, leaving the First trapped high in the mountains. I had selected the First 'Mech Battalion as my primary target because Morgan Kell commanded the Second Battalion and I wanted him to know I had crushed his brother's half of the unit when I came for him. He surprised me, however, and was present, with his Command Lance, consulting with his brother."
Akira felt uneasiness roiling in his gut. The calmness my father has shown since leaving exile is unraveling. This is the man I remember from my youth, but I'm not sure I prefer him to the Yorinaga I have come to know as the commander of the Genyosha.
Yorinaga tucked his hands into the sleeves of his kimono. "One of my scouts recognized Morgan's Archer and reported his presence back to me immediately. He also noted how the Kell Hounds had dug themselves into a nasty position. Our only routes to them were along alleys in which the mercenaries could concentrate their fire. Our assault would be difficult, but we were the Second Sword of Light—Takashi Kurita's own regiment. We would not be defeated.
"Then something remarkable happened. Morgan Kell marched his Archer from behind the fortifications and began to recite his lineage. I felt blood pounding in my temples as I listened to his voice. He was calling me out to engage him in single combat. He was willing to put his life on the line to save his people, and I accepted his bargain!"
Yorinaga's eyes flashed as he remembered the battle. "You should have seen it, Akira, for it was an incredible battle. Kell and I both closed. His medium lasers stabbed again and again at my Warhammer, and I answered with staggered blasts of PPC fire. Armor melted and ran like wax from both our 'Mechs, but all the wounds were superficial. Morgan danced his Archer around, avoiding my shots while managing to sting me repeatedly.
"He was good, very good, but not good enough. I knew I'd not kill him unless he could be lured into making a mistake, so when two of his shots hit my right PPC, I switched the weapon to standby and did not use it in our next series of exchanges. Realizing my weakness, Kell swung his Archer around and came in for close combat."
Yorinaga's hands left his sleeves and dropped into the position they would have occupied in a Warhammer's command couch. "I brought the right PPC up and fired. The particle beam sliced through the Archer's right shoulder like a cleaver, severing the arm cleanly. Kell's Archer stumbled to its knees and waited for me to execute it."
Yorinaga's face reflected the pain of that moment. Akira longed to comfort his father, but he knew that would cost the older man face. This is his struggle. I will respect that. He waited silently for his father to continue.
Disbelief edged into Yorinaga's voice. "In my exultation, I took no notice of the fact that my targeting crosshairs did not blink when I dropped them on the Archer's form. The computer refused to lock onto the target, but that mattered not at all. This was no combat. This was an execution. Why would I need computer assistance? Without care and too much emotion, I fired every weapon I had at the Archer."
Yorinaga stared up at the Bloodmoon. "Every weapon missed. PPC beams flashed wide of the target, reducing the ground they hit to molten glass. My SRMs flew out in a haphazard spread, bracketing the Archer but doing no damage. My lasers shot short or high at their own whim, and my machine guns chattered away impotently. Panic rose in me as the heat buildup spiked within the cockpit, but it was not the heat that alarmed me. Somehow I had missed my foe!
"Suddenly, the Archer's missile pods popped open. Two flights of LRMs leaped forward. Even though the warheads did not have time to arm themselves, the missile impacts battered me. It was like taking shelter in a tin shack to avoid a hailstorm. The missiles crushed armor and spun my Warhammer about in a full circle, but somehow I managed to keep my 'Mech upright."
Yorinaga's hands tightened into fists. "When my vision cleared, I fired everything at the Archer, but again nothing hit it. The one-armed 'Mech struggled to its feet, continuing to ignore my assaults. Then Morgan made his Archer bow to me."
Yorinaga fell silent as though this last statement somehow explained everythi
ng that needed explanation. Akira felt a chill run the length of his spine. There's the conflict. My father both hates and respects Morgan Kell for what he did. With that bow, Kell acknowledged my father as the superior fighter, but robbed him of his victory.
Akira kept his voice low. "It is said you opened your canopy and threw your katana and wakizashi to Kell." Those blades had been in the Kurita family for over three hundred years, and you received them from the Coordinator's hands. What made you do that?
Yorinaga nodded wearily. "I felt I had no choice. After doing everything possible to kill Morgan Kell, I had failed in that duty. I had ceased to be a faithful warrior right then and there. I had to acknowledge him as my superior."
Yorinaga's head came around. "And it is true, I did utter a haiku:
Yellow bird I see. The gray dragon hides wisely. Honor is duty.
"Many took it as my death haiku, but it was not. In Morgan Kell, in his ability and intelligence and understanding of our way, I saw something that could destroy the Draconis Combine."
Akira frowned. "I don't understand."
"Neither did I, fully, not until years and long meditations later." Yorinaga hesitated, as though reluctant to reveal a damaging secret, but the look in his son's eyes seemed to make him continue. "With Bushido, we find the discipline to become fearless warriors. Honor is all-important, and our concept of self is secondary to state and family. We are but an extension of the Dragon, and our actions honor or shame the Coordinator."
Yorinaga nodded slowly. "Morgan Kell understood this. He used my desire for honor to save his men. Had I killed him, I would have allowed them to mourn their slain leader, and I would have accepted their pledge of neutrality. The Kell Hounds' freedom would have been purchased not with Morgan's blood, but with the honor he showed me in that situation.
Warrior, coupe Page 8
