The helm officer was the darkest human Xera had ever seen, with luminous brown eyes and a completely blank affect Xera recognized as a combat visage. To a greater or lesser extent everyone aboard the Diligence had the same mien. Not defeat, not defiance, but readiness for whatever happened next.
Good spirit.
"Anson Monteith," Xera said after completing her inspection. "Why did you believe the Steel Wolves would slaughter your crew?"
He stared at her for a moment down the length of a twice-broken nose. Then, evidently deciding defiance served no purpose, he shrugged.
"Your cousins warned us about you."
"Cousins?"
"The Wolf Hunters," the former Wasati answered. "Paying customers. They came through a few weeks ago on their way to New Canton."
39
Holovid broadcast transcript
Solaris Game Watch
Solaris Gameworld Broadcasting
2 October 3136
"The Solaris VII Gaming Commission announced its decision in the New DeLon Stables-Canid Cooperative scandal today."
"No real surprises, Dave, as both organizations were banned from this year's championship."
"No surprise in New DeLon's protest either, Gwen. The stable continues to insist former assistant manager Tybalt Garnet acted alone."
"Interestingly enough, that claim is supported by the two surviving members of the full-contact team sent in after the War Dogs. Both insist New DeLon was never mentioned when Garnet hired them."
"Speaking of survivors, Canid Cooperative has announced that Suki Chin will make a complete recovery and that, despite the loss of his hand, prosthetic variance rules ensure Charlie Petersen will continue to be an active member of the War Dogs."
"Garnet continues to elude authorities. New DeLon today doubled the reward for information leading to his arrest and conviction."
"Good luck there, Gwen."
"Indeed, Dave. Canid Cooperative responded to the news of their ban by stating their entire stable is available for exhibition and nontournament matches. They stand firm by their Code of Honor commitment and renewed their call for all competitors and stables to adhere to the ideal of the Games."
"Gutsy move, considering the ongoing investigation."
"But a popular one. Both Overlord and Gemini Stables have announced their formal compliance with the voluntary standards. Though Canid Cooperative's combined infantry and BattleMech victory at Ishiyama will never be part of the official record of the Solaris Games, it's already the stuff of legend. Licensed Canid Cooperative merchandise is flying off the shelves."
"Speaking of licensed merchandise, Gwen, Rachel and Rhiannon dolls have begun appearing. Marketing analysts predict they will be the premier collectables of the season."
"A silver lining if ever there was one."
"Right you are. In other news . . ."
40
DropShip Roofvogel
New Canton orbit
Former Prefecture VI
20 October 3136
Where is Anastasia Kerensky?
Star Colonel Xera sat in her aerospace command chair on the bridge of the Titan-class Roofvogel frowning at the repeater screens that gave her an overall panorama of the space around New Canton. She wanted to pace— a silly reflex in null gravity. She was harnessed firmly to her chair against the vagaries of air currents and the subtle push of station-keeping adjustments.
Ninety percent of the time, chairs at control stations made no sense on a spaceship. But during those ten percent when the human body needed all the help it could get against the forces of physics, a well-constructed acceleration chair was worth a spacer's life. So Xera appreciated the chair, even as she appreciated that she looked ridiculous strapped to the thing in zero gee.
"Last of Triarii aerospace has yielded the sky," Star Commander Roche reported.
Xera acknowledged with a click of her microphone.
The Steel Wolves should not have been facing Triarii—they had come to New Canton to annihilate the
Wolf Hunters. They had spent weeks at Wasat preparing—her newly acquired Diligence now bristled with its proper weapons—only to discover the dezgra mercenary group was not on New Canton.
Had their stated intent of coming been disinformation? Or had it been accurate and their interpretation wrong?
She frowned at the watery world below.
If they were not defending New Canton . . .
"Star Colonel Xera to Hibou," she said on the aerospace frequency. "Star Captain Pele Wolf, dispatch a nova to close fly-by primary moon. Search for grounded DropShips."
Without waiting for acknowledgment, she changed channels. "Star Colonel Xera to Diligence. Star Captain Liam Leroux, make close scan of planetary asteroid field. Search for doggo DropShips."
Click of channels. With Varnoff still aboard his DropShip waiting to determine the best place to land to engage the Wolf Hunters, she did not have to rely on the RoofvogeVs comm officer to locate him.
"Star Colonel Xera to Galaxy Commander Varnoff," she said over the command channel.
"Aff."
"The Wolf Hunters were not hired to defend New Canton," she said. "They are preparing a raid."
Varnoff grunted. "If she's repeating her underwater trick, she has plenty of ocean to play with."
"Aff," Xera agreed.
She did not point out that the Steel Wolves were here because Anastasia Kerensky had made a point of letting them know where she was. Deducing the leader of the Wolf Hunter's play before all the cards were on the table was a waste of energy. Xera focused on the tactical situation before her.
"If New Canton is a prize she wants," Varnoff said, "she'll have to try to take it from us."
"Galaxy Commander Varnoff to all Steel Wolves. Begin assault."
Port City, Java Island
New Canton
"What the hell is happening?" Thaddeus Marik's voice was loud in Green's earpiece.
"New Canton is under attack," he said, glancing from screen to screen around the New Canton Planetary Militia command center. He shifted the strap of the comm unit on his shoulder. The powerful radio was disguised as a standard executive shoulder bag. As long as he didn't let anyone suspect it weighed eleven kilograms, it would pass casual inspection.
He'd been called to the command center in a panic less than an hour before when the Triarii had admitted to the NCPM that unidentified aerospace fighters had driven them from the sky. The fact the militia turned to him for help confirmed his suspicions that his well- documented cultural attache identity had fooled no one. Either New Canton had very good intel or there was a local leak.
That didn't matter at the moment. Right now the DropShips descending on New Canton required his full attention. He saw that the skies directly over his position remained clear, while DropShips were descending all over the globe.
"Transponder codes identify them as Steel Wolves," he said into the tiny microphone of his direct comm to Marik. "They started dropping without batchall. Coming down heavy on what's left of the Triarii and the main industrial DropPorts. Ignoring political targets."
The bypassing of an economic center like Port City was significant. The hub of the planetwide agro-fishing industry that provided forty percent of the world's employment, it would have been a prime objective for forces planning a long-term occupancy. This was a raid— which meant long-term collateral damage was not a concern for the invaders.
"Could the Wolf Hunters have called them in?"
"Doesn't fit," Green said. Looking around, he confirmed no one was within earshot. "Bad blood."
"Damn." Pause. "Our hiring the Wolf Hunters drew them here. It's them they want."
"Along with whatever they can grab while they're here," Green said. "Looks like a full-scale raid."
"We're still six hours out," Marik said. "New Canton can't afford the kind of damage those barbarians are going to do. Order the Wolf Hunters in."
"To do what?"
"Fight the Stee
l Wolves," Marik said. "Let's use that bad blood to tie up the situation until we can come to the rescue."
"Sir, our combined forces outnumber the Wolf Hunters, but not the Steel Wolves." Green moved farther from the nearest scanner tech. "Even with Wolf Hunter support, it will be a near thing. And if the Wolf Hunters tumble to what we'd planned for them, they'll turn on us."
"We've got no other options," Marik pointed out.
Green couldn't argue the logic. Switching channels, he entered a code.
DropShip Coeur du Loup
Asteroid field
New Canton orbit
"We've been ordered to attack the Steel Wolves," Anastasia Kerensky said. "We're to defend New Canton."
"To do what?" Surprise made Alexia Wolf's question a demand.
Anastasia ignored the tone and the question. She cocked an eyebrow at Murchison.
Somehow her coregn managed to float neatly, his ever-present med kit tucked under one elbow. She knew the man had never been in space before she took him from Northwind, but so far the universe had not devised a way to shake his competence.
"We are being played," he said simply. Anastasia nodded. Whoever had hired them to take New Canton now wanted them to keep it safe from the Steel Wolves. At one level it made sense—their employer didn't want the Steel Wolves to rob them of what they were after. But at a deeper level ... it stank of a double cross.
"And what would you recommend, Doctor?" "We can make jump point in seven days," he said.
Anastasia grinned. "You're thinking like a Spheroid," she told him. "As is our employer."
She tapped the intercom. "Star Captain Raphael, communicate to all ships that they are to maintain cold status," she said. "Then pick a DropPort far from the assault and set us down."
"Zellbrigen," Alexia Wolf guessed.
"That's where the rest of us sit around and watch you and Varnoff hurt each other one-on-one?" Murchison asked in his usual deadpan.
"It is time Varnoff and I settled this," Anastasia confirmed.
Murchison nodded slowly. "I'll get the infirmary ready."
DropShip Northchase
New Canton orbit
"She wants what?" Varnoff demanded.
"Zellbrigen," Star Commander Sorrell repeated, glancing again at the noteputer passed to him by the ship's comm officer as though to confirm.
Varnoff chuckled, deep and low. The chuckle grew to a laugh.
"Of course!" he said. "Welcome the challenge. Tell her I will meet her alone. Single combat in our Battle- Mechs. Leave place to her choice."
Sorrell nodded once in acknowledgment of the order and turned to propel himself from the cabin.
"Then prepare your Nova."
Sorrell let his turn to go become a full circle, rotating in the air until he faced his Galaxy commander again.
"Sir?"
"Zellbrigen is a duel between equals," Varnoff said. "It is honorable combat between Clan warriors. Anastasia Kerensky has proven she is without honor. She has turned her back on all things Clan. She is not in any way the equal of any Steel Wolf warrior."
He chuckled again.
"She may ask for zellbrigen," he said. "But she does not deserve it.
"When she is clear of her dezgra thugs, we will destroy her."
DropShip Diligence
New Canton orbit
Helmsman Carlos Mehta watched the Coeur du Loup— Anastasia Kerensky's flagship—on his main screen as the DropShip reversed for final descent burn. The leader of the Wolf Hunters had been granted safcon to the Java Island DropPort to face Varnoff in zellbrigen for New Canton.
Fifteen months ago leaving Anastasia Kerensky to follow Varnoff Fetladral had been a clear choice of honor. Now. having seen how his Galaxy Commander led the Steel Wolves, he was not as sure. If it were not for Star Colonel Xera—
The Coeur du Loup upended. One set of the Outpost- class DropShip's main engines had shut down while the others were boosting at maximum thrust, flipping the vessel end-for-end and turning its landing descent into a crash dive.
The bondsman Wasati pilot sitting in the auxiliary control post gasped, breaking Mehta's stasis.
"Star Captain Leroux," he reported, keeping his voice professional. "The Wolf Hunter DropShip is out of control."
"He's got some control," countered the Wasati bondsman—the former master of the Diligence—from the operations post.
Mehta did not like being corrected by a cargo handler, but could not deny the accuracy of the observation.
"Confirmed, Star Captain," he said. "They are attempting to redirect their flight using attitude thrusters."
Which would not be enough this deep in the gravity well of a planet. As they watched the death plunge became a wobble, almost a turn upward, then a shallow arc toward the ground.
"They're slow," the Wasati pilot said.
Mehta resented the bondsman pointing it out, but could not refute him. The Coeur du Loup was making all the right moves, but always a few critical moments too late.
The Wolf Hunter ship got its drives pointing down one last time. But just as they were doing some good, the engines shut down.
"Is that orbit?" Star Captain Leroux asked.
"Ballistic arc," Mehta said before confirming from his boards. "They're clear of the atmosphere, but not for long. Maybe a third of an orbit."
"Can we—"
The falling DropShip's attitude thrusters began firing, apparently at random. They didn't generate enough energy to affect the vessel's trajectory, but the venting jets of plasma imparted spin and yaw.
"What the hell?" Mehta asked.
The thrusters stopped, but the damage was done. There was no way for anything to match air locks with the tumbling DropShip.
"Star Captain Leroux," Star Colonel Xera's voice came over the bridge speaker. "Is the Diligence in a position to help the Coeur du LoupV
Leroux looked to Mehta. The helmsman rechecked his readings to be sure before shaking his head.
"Neg, Star Colonel," Leroux reported. "Their mass and tumble—"
"We can do it!" the bondsman at ops interrupted.
"That would be bondsman Anson Monteith," said the Star colonel.
The Wasati seemed to take that as permission to speak.
"The Diligence was a rescue tug before you loaded it up with frickin' guns," he said. "Still is."
"Star Captain?"
"If it were a Union or a Lion, Star Colonel," Leroux answered. "An Outpost is too large."
"Look," the Wasati said, directing his voice at the overhead microphone as though he had every right to ignore the Star captain and address the Star colonel directly. "You guys kick butt, you're good at that. We save lives, and we're good at that. How many of your cousins on that DropShip?" "Perhaps a hundred former Steel Wolves," the Star colonel answered.
"Don't they deserve a shot?" The Wasati looked to Leroux, at last including the Star captain in his plea. "Let us do our job."
The Wasati was a bondsman, but he had been a ship's master—had been master of this ship—and Mehta thought something passed between him and his Star captain.
"What do you need?" Leroux asked the Wasati.
"Night on the stick," he answered, indicating the pilot beside Mehta. "Me on the claws."
"Bargained well and done," Leroux said. Then to the overhead microphone: "Star Colonel, we are going to retrieve the Coeur du Loup."
"Good hunting," Star Colonel Xera answered.
"May I sit there?"
Mehta turned, surprised to see the Wasati pilot already floating at his Shoulder.
As they traded posts, he caught her scent—something woody and spicy—and remembered her name was not Night but Nyota. He wondered if that had a special significance.
Realizing where his thoughts were going, he reined them in. His purpose at auxiliary control was to be ready to support the pilot, not be ready to couple with her.
"We got guns, we got crew, we got cargo, we got storm troopers in steerage," said the
Wasati at operations.
"We got extra mass," the pilot confirmed. She fastened her high-gee neck brace a second before Mehta thought to offer and studied the readouts as she adjusted the chair and arm supports to her reach. "Numbers are good."
"All sections report rigged for high-gee maneuvers," the engineer said. "All drive systems optimal."
There was a moment of stillness. All preparations were complete.
"Helm: Best course to target DropShip," Star Captain Leroux ordered formally. "Close to grapple position."
"Rabbit out of hat, aye, aye," she acknowledged crisply.
Mehta wondered at the meaning of the Wasati idiom.
It did not sound appropriate to the situation. However, Star Captain Leroux's half smile indicated he understood and approved.
Then the pilot initiated the main thrusters. The false gravity of acceleration pushed Mehta into his chair. Gravity of another sort settled over the bridge as the Diligence dove toward the Coeur du Loup.
DropShip Coeur du Loup
Above New Canton
"What the hell happened?" Murchison asked as he bandaged the chief engineer's scalp.
"Control circuits went out," she said. Murchison noted the slight slur to her speech.
"You should lie down," he said, then realized how silly that sounded in zero gravity.
Treatment for shock in null-gee involved gentle centrifugal force to keep the brain fed with blood. Somehow, unstrapping the engineer and swinging her by her heels in the crowded bridge did not seem practical. He checked to confirm she was firmly webbed to her chair and moved on.
The bridge was aswarm with techs. Every panel was open—most of the covers properly secured—as control circuits were traced, repaired, or replaced. Tracing a constellation of blood droplets to their source, Murchison unhooked his safety strap and launched himself toward the auxiliary control pilot.
Carter, floating like a wide-eyed zeppelin, floundered past him on his way to the chief engineer's station.
Just short of the aux pilot, Murchison noted a free- floating finger—evidence of the source of the blood globules. Hooking a foot on the lip of an open access hatch, he caught the finger in a med bag. It had been cleanly severed—a good candidate for reattachment.
Wolf Hunters Page 30
