Star lord

by Donald G. Phillips

  "I got to three companies who needed new 'Mechs. Between them I suspect they snapped up the remaining eight 'Mechs Jaggoda sent along with us," Duncan said.

  "Add another four 'Mechs that I was able to get into and cause some grief. We've robbed Amaris of a company of 'Mechs—numerically speaking," said Hawkes. "It's not much, but it's better than nothing ... Well, look who's coming."

  Bovos walked into their camp area. He looked tired. "I'm back," he said simply. "Any luck?"

  "I think so, Duncan. A leader has arisen among the Claves that revolted against the Star Lord. I was able to meet with him, and explained that we were here to stop Amaris. He said he would consult with his Clave. I don't know for certain, but I think they'll help us."

  "Duncan, down the road, NOW!" said Hawkes.

  Duncan turned to see an Archer approaching in the distance. It was painted in the totally black scheme of the Black Warriors of the Circinus Federation. "Dawn, get your 'Mech powered up. I'm not taking any chances." Dawn was climbing the rungs up the Orion's side even before he'd finished speaking.

  "There's a small patrol car leading the way," Duncan said. Even as he spoke, the vehicle stopped and the driver and another man got out. They were armed. "Have your sidearms ready."

  The Archer halted behind it as its arms moved to the side, a prelude to its massive missile hatches springing open. The forty gleaming black-tipped long-range missile warheads were poised like the stingers of a deadly scorpion ready to strike. Duncan, Hawkes, and Bovos dove for cover as Dawn swept the Orion into position as if it were an extension of her own thoughts.

  Just a heartbeat before the other 'Mechs's missiles leaped free, Dawn opened up with the medium lasers in the Orion's massive tubelike arms. The shots sliced across the torso of the open misile bays and torso of the Archer with the skill of a surgeon. A handful of the warheads went off as the massive 'Mech tried to fire its loads. The internal explosions set off a ripple effect of secondary blasts that gouged out the heart of the Archer.

  Plumes of flame roared upward and outward as the missile launches went wild. The Archer was no more, its engine and gyro gutted by the internal fires. Duncan saw the pilot in the cockpit desperately attempting to eject while the jet-like flames inside the head of the dying BattleMech consumed her.

  Dawn, unmoved by the death, strafed the patrol vehicle. The laser shots cut off a fender and sent its two passengers running. Bovos stood up, took aim, and cut them down even before they realized how close he was standing to them.

  "Let's get the hell out of here!" Duncan was already moving to his Atlas.

  As he popped open the cockpit and climbed in, he wondered what had made Amaris send out his personal guard to murder his newest recruits. But it was no crazier than anything else he'd seen and heard since arriving on this forgotten world. If anyone had asked him five minutes before whether he'd ever be truly glad to see Trane and the Knights again, Duncan would have said no. But right now that was all he wanted to see—Knights ... lots of Knights ...

  * * *

  "How long do you think it will take them to send someone after us?" Hawkes asked from his Hatchetman.

  "Not long, Hawkes. I'm hoping they'll send some units over to where we were encamped. They keep their best companies closer to the Cavern of the Skull so the odds may be more even for a while."

  "Which way do we go?"

  "West, to the mountains. If any of them catch up to us before sundown the sun will be in their eyes. It didn't look to me like Amaris had many units ready for pursuit. If we can find some rocks or woods to hide in until morning we can rest and figure out what to do next."

  "I read three 'Mechs coming fast, very fast," said Dawn in her Orion.

  Duncan looked at his tactical screen. The three 'Mechs were exceeding 100 kph. "They're scouts. Light 'Mechs out looking for us. I'm going to drop back and let them catch me. Hawkes, you and Bovos give me a hand."

  While they were catching up to him, Duncan identified the pursuing 'Mechs were Locusts. Though lightly armed, they were fast and hard to hit even with a good targeting system. Individually, they were no match for most 'Mechs. Any weapon could destroy or cripple a Locust, but in a formation of three they could harass the heaviest of 'Mechs until reinforcements arrived.

  The advancing Locusts lost no time employing that tactic. After slowing for several minutes they picked up speed and started a circling action around Duncan's Atlas. The Atlas had a reputation for endurance, and as the first Locust darted in to use its medium laser Duncan hoped the 'Mech's reputation was accurate.

  Hoping to save the valuable ammo for his Class 20 autocannon or missile racks, Duncan tried to get a lock onto one of the Locusts with his lasers, but the targeting system was just too old and too slow. It was like trying to swat gnats with your bare hand. Time for some help.

  "Hawkes, Bovos, your presence is requested," he yelled into his commlink.

  So intent on Duncan, the Locusts didn't spot the Hatchetman and JagerMech until it was too late. Hawkes pushed his Hatchetman to within arm's reach of one of the Locusts. It must have been a terrified pilot who looked up to see the gigantic axe descending on his cockpit. From Duncan's viewpoint it looked like a metal man squashing an oversize bug.

  "That's one, Demon."

  The two remaining Locusts broke off their attack and turned to move away. The first turned directly into the path of Bovos in his JagerMech. Bovos cut him down with simultaneous bursts from the 'Mech's torso-mounted medium lasers.

  "That's two," Bovos chortled.

  The last Locust topped a small rise a hundred meters away. Hawkes took a shot, but he missed.

  "Got him," Duncan said, locking on to the retreating 'Mech and launching a spread of SRMs. Two lost their lock but a third hit the remaining Locust squarely in its unprotected back. After the flash of the explosion only the 'Mech's legs remained standing. Then, they too, fell to the ground.

  "More on the way," came Hawkes over the commline. Duncan looked at the rise where he'd just downed the Locust. His tactical display showed at least a company of 'Mechs painted in the colors of the Lothian League.

  "Dawn, you're about to miss one hell of a fight!" Duncan felt the sweat stinging his eyes. Once again he wondered if he should have stayed in jail.

  "Three to one odds. That seems about right for us," Hawkes said through what sounded like clenched teeth.

  "Paladin to Gunner," came an unmistakable voice over the commline. "You may recompute those odds."

  Duncan looked at his tactical screen. What his monitor showed coming up behind him were the blips not only for Dawn's Orion, but for six other 'Mechs as well. It was Trane and the others. Finally.

  * * *

  "My lord, we have problems."

  "What now, Captain Varas? Can't you see I was just about to dine?"

  "It's about the new recruits, Duncan's Demons. I sent some Black Warriors to take care of them."

  "And?"

  "I don't know all the details yet, but the Demons killed them. Then they fled west to the mountains."

  "Why do you plague with me this, Varas? Send out another unit to do the job right this time."

  "That's not all, my lord. A DropShip has also been reported landing in the direction the Demons are headed. We could be under attack."

  Amaris leaped to his feet. "Notify all the Republican Guards. Form an assault team and attack at once. But ... keep at least a battalion here for my personal guard."

  "Your safety is always of paramount importance, my lord." Varas bowed and left to do what he was bid. It was, he was sure, the beginning of the end.

  30

  Brannigan Plain

  New St. Andrews, The Periphery

  Rimward of the Circinus Federation

  13 July 3057

  "How's Duncan?" asked Trane.

  "He's in a lot of pain," said Hawkes. "But I suppose you could say he's lucky. The shrapnel went all the way through his left side. The damned thing was white hot and it seared shut a l
ot of blood vessels. Otherwise, he might have bled to death."

  "Is he conscious?"

  "Somewhat. He's refused to take anything that would put him out. He told me to find him a 'Mech and he'd be ready to fight again."

  "He can't be serious," said Trane. "But it's true we might still need his Mech. Hawkes, why don't you take Dawn and Bovos back to the DropShip and bring back Duncan's BattleMaster and your Crusader and anything else we can use."

  Hawkes nodded, but he made no move to go. "Trane ..." He paused. It was time to get things out in the open. "Trane, we know the whole story. Before we left Kyeinnisan Duncan told us that you and your men are Knights of the Inner Sphere. It didn't come as any great surprise. Bovos and I had already begun to suspect."

  Trane sighed. "Frankly, I'm surprised we got away with it as long as we did."

  "I've got a little confession to make, too," Hawkes said, then gave Trane a quick rundown of the events that had brought him, Bovos, and Dawn into this mission to track down the impostors who'd been giving the Knights a bad name.

  "Stranger than fiction," Trane said, shaking his head. Hawkes laughed softly as he turned to walk away. "You can say that again."

  * * *

  Trane watched as Hawkes headed toward the small, wheeled scout vehicle they'd captured yesterday. What was left of the Praetorian Guards from the Marian Hegemony had abandoned it and fled on foot after the Demons all but destroyed their company. Hawkes motioned to Bovos and Dawn to join him in the light transport, and then the three drove away.

  "Captain Trane." Trane turned to see Jon Blix approaching.

  "Yes, Lieutenant, what is it?"

  "We're down to eight 'Mechs. Ben-Ari will be all right, but his Stinger is totaled. We're also low on autocannon reloads and missiles. We'll be down to energy weapons soon."

  "All right, Lieutenant. Tell the men to get what rest they can. I'll be with Duncan."

  Blix headed back to where the Knights were making what repairs were possible on their 'Mechs. Two days ago the Demons had gleefully made mincemeat of the Lothian League company. Afterward, Ben-Ari, in his Stinger, had made a fast recon of the general area and found this small clearing in a dense forest that ran along the foothills of a mountain range. As night fell the various other mercenary companies that now formed the "New Republican Guards" had returned to their encampments near the Cavern of the Skull.

  The next morning the Demons had left the forest, but decided the site would serve well as a secondary camp if they managed to survive the fighting. Though grimly determined, their mood was far from dark. And it was boosted after their engagement with the Praetorian Guards.

  The Guards were hardly up to their namesake in terms of equipment and organization. From what Duncan could tell, either their communications systems were down or they were simply too inexperienced to make use of them. Instead of fighting as a unit each Guard seemed to operate in isolation, letting the Demons pick them off piecemeal. A part of Duncan had hoped they would break off after their initial losses, but their inexperience showed. They assumed something like the posture of Custer's Last Stand, meeting the same ignominious fate.

  Just as the last of the Guards were being cut down, their reinforcements finally arrived. By their markings Duncan recognized that the unit had once served the Oberon Confederation, in ages past part of the Rim Worlds Republic of Amaris the Usurper. That had been before the arrival of the Clan invaders, who had eaten the tiny pirate kingdom like a ravenous monster. The company of older 'Mechs had been on a raiding mission when the Clans had stolen their homeworlds. There had been rumors of their survival, but Duncan had discounted them until now. The Oberon warriors had nothing to lose by throwing in their lot with Amaris. They had already lost their homes, kin, and their future, and seemed to fight today as if this battle would determine their entire fate.

  The Oberon troops tried to engage the Demons up close, but Duncan knew better. Using a series of fading attacks and feints, he had managed to maintain a distance from them as his Demons' long-range weapons inflicted their terrible damage. The battle lasted for most of the day, but in the end the tactics had paid off. The Oberon forces were defeated, but for most of the day, and though the Demons were the victors, they took a beating.

  Andre Morneau had died about midday when a Thunderbolt caught him with a salvo of LRMs. In the afternoon, a Griffin snagged Ben-Ari's light 'Mech with a PPC burst. Everyone had taken damage of some kind before the few remaining Oberon 'Mechs retreated. That was when Hawkes had found Duncan's Atlas standing motionless in the middle of a wide plain with a gaping hole in its head. It was one tough 'Mech. In spite of the internal damage to the cockpit, they had managed to get it back to their camp in the forest.

  Trane walked across the clearing to where Duncan was sheltered under the rocky overhang of a mountain wall. He lay on a blanket taken from the captured Praetorian Guard vehicle.

  Duncan did not open his eyes, but must have sensed Trane's presence. "Is it morning already?" he asked weakly.

  "Almost. I just wanted to check on you."

  "Thanks, I was beginning to feel a little out of the loop right now ... if you know what I mean. Where are the others?"

  "Hawkes, Bovos, and Dawn have gone to the DropShip. If the ship hasn't been captured they'll bring back your BattleMaster and Hawkes's Crusader and what supplies they can. The DropShip is a good bit south of here and well camouflaged, so there's a chance it hasn't been found yet. We're keeping our eyes open for the Republican Guards, who are north of us."

  "How'd we do yesterday?"

  "We lost Morneau. Everyone else took some lumps. You got the worst of it."

  "That leaves nine of us. Roughly two lances against two battalions, if the two companies the Star Lord was expecting have arrived. How do you compute the odds now, Rod?"

  "Are you kidding? They haven't got a chance. They're up against Duncan's Demons!"

  Duncan tried to laugh but it only made him cough in pain. "Rod ... there's something I need to tell you about Hawkes and the others. There wasn't time with all the fighting."

  "Save your breath. Hawkes filled me in."

  "They're good people, Rod. Take care of them ... if that's possible in this situation. By the way, I'm more than happy to relinquish command of the Demons to you."

  "It is. And I gladly assume command. And don't worry, I'll do my best to take care of our people ... all of our people. Look, this probably isn't the best time, but I'm going to speak my mind anyway."

  "Timing has never been your long suit, Rod. Fire away."

  "We've all changed during this mission. You, me, the Knights, all of us. It's not easy saying this, but I've got to admit I'd be proud to fight with you again ... anytime ... anywhere."

  Duncan opened his eyes and raised his head a little. He smiled. "My god, Trane. I would have never believed it of you. Humility!"

  * * *

  "Captain Varas. I trust you've taken care of our little problem?"

  "Hardly, my lord. The DropShip that landed contained the rest of the Demon company. In less than two days they've destroyed the better part of three companies."

  "Three companies? Which ones?"

  "Those from the Lothian League, the Marian Hegemony, and the Oberon Confederation. The Demons were able to engage them individually and defeat them. From the battle reports I've seen, the Lothians and Praetorian Guards fell like matchsticks. The Oberon pirates were a different matter. But the Demons have been bloodied too."

  "So? Why do you trouble me? Finish them off."

  "I intend to do exactly that, my lord. I'm sending out every unit we've got except for the Black Warriors. The problem is finding them. These mountains are several thousand kilometers long, which gives the Demons a vast area in which to hide and then fight when it suits them. We've got no aerospace fighters for recon, but I've sent out everything else to scout for them."

  "And when they're found?"

  "We'll attack with every unit in the field and obliterate them. Ot
herwise, they'll continue to pick us off a lance and a company at a time."

  "Have you considered making them an offer to surrender?"

  "No, my lord."

  "Why not?"

  "I can't prove it, but I'm sure they're not mercenaries. The presence of a Clan woman threw me at first, but it's probably all part of some plan."

  "Not mercenaries? A plan? What are you talking about?"

  "I believe the Demons are agents from one of the Successor States—House Marik would be my guess since we've been giving the Knights a bad name. These Demons are no run-of-the-mill mercs. They're superior warriors. They ..."

  Varas paused as the idea hit him. "They could even be Knights of the Inner Sphere!"

  "What? That's madness, Varas."

  "That's got to be it. The only way the rest of them could have gotten here from Kyeinnisan so quickly is by JumpShip relay. Mere mercenaries wouldn't have those resources. It must be Marik ... he put it together. He knew whoever was behind the raids would be seeking replacements for those lost in battle. So he sent out his precious Knights disguised as these mercs."

  "If what you say is true, Varas, they must be stopped before they can reveal what they know about us."

  "If that is still possible, my lord. If that is still possible. I will alert one of our DropShips we have to stand by should we need to depart in haste. We must prepare all documents and communications relative to this operation for destruction or transport as necessary."

  "It will be all right, Varas. My Republican Guards will rally to their Star Lord. You'll see."

  "Yes, my lord. As I have said before, the brilliance of your leadership inspires us all ..."

  31

  Brannigan Plain

  New St. Andrews, The Periphery

  Rimward of the Circinus Federation

  13 July 3057

  Duncan felt better than he thought he would, considering the wound he'd sustained. He was a little shaky but managed to get to his feet and walk across the clearing. "Duncan?"