D. R. T.

by James D. Long

  "Captain Jeremiah Rose, commander of the mercenary company the Black Thorns." Rose surveyed the cavern, obviously impressed. "Quite a place you have here, Sho-sa."

  She responded with a lopsided smile. "Not mine actually. I just look after some of the military assets. The actual resistance is headed by one of . . ." She stopped and brought the other side of her face up in a smile. "Well, I should probably let them introduce themselves." She turned to one of the technicians at the foot of the Masakari. "Can you fix it?"

  The man shrugged. "Shirimasen."

  "Round up the others and give me an estimate," she said to the man's back as he examined the damage to the Masakari's shin. The man nodded silently and continued his inspection. Cantrell tapped Rose on the sleeve and motioned to a side tunnel.

  "Leave them to their job," she said. "They're some of the best technicians I've ever seen, despite the primitive equipment. They'll give us an estimate when they've looked the 'Mechs over." Rose nodded and followed Cantrell as she cut across the busy cavern floor. The rest of the Black Thorns followed them in a clump, looking more like a sight-seeing group on a tour than a group of warriors. Rose would have laughed, but the situation was too unusual.

  "Excuse me, Sho-sa Cantrell," he said as they entered the side tunnel, "but you seem to be accepting us pretty much on faith at this point. If you really are resistance fighters, which means you're against the Clans, shouldn't security be a little tighter?"

  Cantrell continued to smile. "Well," she began, "you're not exactly new to us. We've been requesting assistance for quite some time now and ..." Once more she paused. "Sorry, but I'd better not tell you that.

  "In any event," she said while walking, "we spotted your ship the moment it entered the atmosphere. We figured you were heading to the industrial 'centers north of here, but when the ship was attacked, you all sorta got chucked out." She smiled at a private joke but didn't interrupt her train of thought. "We lost you in the drop, but Dusty and I have been scouring the hills for you ever since.

  "Right, Dustin?" she asked of her sidekick. The man simply looked at Rose and nodded.

  "Dustin doesn't talk much," Cantrell offered as an explanation.

  "Why were you looking for us?" Bell asked from his position behind Rose.

  Cantrell cocked her head at the question. "Well, you're the third company-sized raiding force to hit this planet in the last two years. That's not too remarkable. The remarkable part is that you're the first ones to land near our base and you're the first ones to lose their DropShip."

  Rose stopped and reached for the woman's arm. Cantrell winced with sudden understanding. "Sorry. You didn't know about the ship, did you?" His shocked look told her the truth, but Rose shook his head anyway.

  "Tough break," she said. "Sorry you had to get the news so abruptly, but your ship went down a couple of hundred kilometers from here. Since then it's been crawling with Clan technicians."

  Rose didn't like the sound of that, but his brain was still stumbling over the loss of the DropShip. Were they really trapped on the planet, as Cantrell suggested? The ramifications of their current situation hit him like a physical blow. Things were even worse than he thought.

  Cantrell led the Black Thorns into a side room off the passage they had been following. Inside the room were several tables and a series of bunks bolted into the cavern wall. As the ceiling was lower in the tunnels and side chambers, the high-intensity halogen lights had been replaced with standard florescent bulbs. Cantrell looked around the room.

  "You can stay here for the time being. The previous users of this room don't need it anymore." She paused for a moment, and Rose knew exactly what she meant "We don't have running water, but there are several underground wells nearby. I'll have one of the techs bring you some buckets and show you to the well. I suspect you'd like to get cleaned up.

  "A couple of things before I leave, though. First, always carry a flashlight when you travel. The power is fairly dependable, but even a short-term blackout can leave you with a case of the screaming meemies if you're caught all alone. Second, always carry your sidearm. I see most of you already take that to heart, but in case you think it's even remotely safe here, think again."

  Cantrell turned to go, but Rose stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. "Sho-sa, a moment please. This is all happening rather quickly, and there are a few questions I'd like answered, if you please."

  Cantrell looked at her chronometer and glanced at Dustin, who shook his head. "All right," she said, "but make it quick."

  "First of all, we never heard a thing about an organized resistance to the Clans here on Courcheval. Do the Kuritas know you're here?"

  Cantrell snorted and gave Rose a strange look. "I hope so. We communicate with them three or four times per year. Mostly it's through pirates running the border, but occasionally we'll get word from a military vessel." Cantrell shook her head, stopping Rose's next question. "The particulars of any contact like that are on a need-to-know basis, and, well, I'm sure you understand."

  Rose nodded. "This place seems like a fairly large operation. How have you managed to keep the base a secret?"

  Cantrell scratched her head and pondered the question for a moment. "Well, I guess you'd have to put some of it down to luck In truth, we're really not that big. There are only a few hundred of us at the base at any one time. Mostly we're infantry, which means we rarely get involved in direct shooting matches with the Clans. We pop up, hit a base, and drift away."

  "What about all the vehicles? Don't they see action?" asked Hawg.

  Cantrell shook her head. "Not very much. We use the two hovers quite a bit, but that's about all. They're fast and maneuverable, which gives them an edge. The rest of the gear is too old and slow to be of much use. We keep it around, but I suspect it's more for reassurance than because anybody thinks it will do any real damage."

  "So you're guerrillas," observed Bell.

  Cantrell turned toward Bell and nodded. "Close, but we're very selective. We were a little less so about our targets in the early days, and the Cats took it out on the populace. Now we only hit military targets. It's more like commando tactics than guerrilla tactics. In truth we're not even commandos. We're more like a recon force. We provide intelligence reports about the Clans and strike an occasional target, but we're not equipped to do much else, if that makes any sense."

  Not really, thought Rose, but he held his tongue. The resistance movement obviously knew what was going on, which was all that mattered. "How did you know we were coming?" he asked.

  Cantrell checked her chronometer again. "We didn't We requested a strike on the factories to the north over six months ago. The Cats have them almost ready for production, and we thought a surgical strike could set them back maybe a year or even more. Seemed like a good idea, but the factory was too heavily guarded for us to take on ourselves.

  "Unfortunately, the factory garrison was beefed up with a trinary from the Nova Cat Cavaliers, a frontline OmniMech unit. If you'd landed anywhere near the factories, the Cavaliers would have pounded you into snail snot." She laughed lightly. "No offense," she added.

  "None taken," responded Rose automatically.

  "Well, I've got to report in. Somebody will be back to show you around. Your 'Mechs will be repaired as best we can manage." Cantrell smiled at Rose, a gesture of sincere friendship. "After all, we're in this together, right?" Rose nodded, but his mind was engaged in trying to figure out the next move.

  "One more thing," said Ria. "Where are we?"

  "This is the Silverton and Sons mines. We're currently standing in one of the old crew quarters. Right outside is primary tunnel number forty-seven, which leads to the active mines several levels below. The entire complex is a maze of tunnels and shafts."

  "I'd have thought this would be one of the first places the Cats would look for any resistance operation," remarked Esmeralda.

  "It was," smiled Cantrell, "but the Tabbies were too efficient Back then we were too unorganized
to have an operation like this. We only moved into the mines fourteen months ago."

  "And they haven't been back to check the place out?" asked Bell.

  Cantrell shook her head. "S and S closed down five years ago when the entire complex was declared unstable. I guess the facility sits on some type of geological fault. The planetary government declared the mines unsafe and forced the closure of all operations. When the Tabbies checked it out, the place was still abandoned."

  "So this whole place could collapse at any moment?" asked Bell somewhat nervously.

  Dustin laughed, the first sound he'd made since meeting the Black Thorns. "How long you want to live anyway?" he asked through crooked teeth. Bell grinned back, but clearly was not comforted by the response. Cantrell punched Bell in the shoulder and flashed a thumbs-up. Bell returned the salute half-heartedly as the pair left the quarters.

  "I think I'm really going to hate this place," said Bell as he looked around the room. Several of the Black Thorns nodded agreement.

  Rose ignored the comment. "We've got to start making some plans. Let's get settled in; we might be here a while. Take Sho-sa Cantrell's words to heart. In addition, pair up. Nobody leaves this room alone, got it?" He looked at the assembled company to make sure everyone understood the importance of the order.

  "We've got another problem," offered Myoto from the back of the pack.

  "You're telling me," mumbled Bell with a quick look at the ceiling.

  "I mean the DropShip," she continued. "If what Sho-sa Cantrell says is true, the Nova Cats have access to the computers of the Tracy K."

  "And?" asked Riannon with a puzzled look.

  "That means they have access to the control codes and mission files," said Rose.

  Myoto nodded gravely. "It is not impossible that the Nova Cats could link with the JumpShip and return to Wolcott aboard the Tracy K."

  "A Trojan horse," said Esmeralda.

  Myoto frowned for a moment, then nodded. "If they managed to take over the JumpShip, they could travel not only to Wolcott, but to the JumpShip's next destination."

  "Luthien," said Riannon. Myoto closed her eyes and nodded,

  "This suddenly becomes bigger than us getting stuck on Courcheval," observed Esmeralda. "It sounds like we've just given the Nova cats the keys to Luthien's front door."

  "As I said, it is not impossible," replied Myoto.

  "They could also cut off Wolcott from its supply lines," said Yuri. The other Black Thorns looked at the young man. He shrugged. "Just an observation," he added self-consciously.

  "You're all right," said Rose. "We've got a problem that requires immediate attention, but we're not in any condition to do anything about that now. Fall out and get some rest; that's an order. Ria, you and I will make the announcement to the resistance leaders. Everybody stick close to this room. When we know more, I'll want everybody involved in the planning."

  "One more thing, Captain," said Kitten. "I'd like to have a brief service for Badicus and Greta." She looked down and swirled the dirt on the floor with the point of her boot. "Nothing fancy. Just a few words to remember them." She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

  "Of course," said Rose. He checked his chronometer. "Service will be one hour after Ria and I return." Rose could almost see the blanket of misery fall over the company at the thought of their losses. It had been the same way when Angus died on Borghese. A small unit like the Black Thorns always felt the loss of a member more acutely than did a bigger, more impersonal unit. It would take time to heal the emotional wounds.

  "Now fall out," he said, knowing it was all that was left to say. "You all look like you could use some rest."

  26

  Courcheval

  Nova Cat Occupation Zone

  30 July 3057

  Star Colonel Denard walked down the guard-lined hall at a brisk pace, Thrace following in his wake. As expected, the Elementals at the end of the hall snapped to attention as Denard reached for the double doors that stood between them. Throwing the doors wide, he walked into the room with scarcely a halt in stride. Following behind him, Thrace turned and closed the doors, shutting out the others.

  Denard walked down the short hall to the suite's main room, pausing in the entrance archway to survey the scene before him. Scattered about the room were several overstuffed chairs and couches, most of them within easy reach of a table holding a computer terminal. To the left and right Denard could see the closed doors that led to the suite's adjoining bedrooms. Directly across from the doorway was a huge picture window offering a view of the plains beyond the compound. From the room's location four stories above the ground, the view was spectacular.

  Inside were only three people. Two were staring silently at computer terminals while the third looked out the large window. Denard did not doubt that the men had heard him enter, but none of the room's occupants bothered to look up. Denard smiled. The three captives were trying to show that they had retained at least a shred of their dignity, but by allowing themselves to be captured, the trio had forever lost their claim to it in the eyes of Denard and the rest of the Nova Cats.

  "Captain Danes," Denard said, "at last we meet. I am Star Colonel Denard Devereaux." The Star Colonel crossed the room in several huge strides, barely giving Danes time to turn from the window before extending his hand. The custom of hand-shaking had no place in Clan society, but Denard's advisors had assured him that offering his right hand in greeting would put Danes at ease. They had forgotten to tell Denard that the DropShip captain's right hand was encased in a cast and supported by a sling. Denard withdrew his hand and looked out the window. Heads were going to roll after this meeting, but right now he had to recapture the initiative.

  "A beautiful view, quiaff?" he finally offered.

  "Yes," agreed Danes, "it certainly is a beautiful view."

  Denard towered over the DropShip captain, but if the smaller man noticed, he didn't show it. "I trust you find your accommodations suitable," he said. Danes nodded but did not speak. Behind him Denard heard the other two crew members stand up and leave the room. Thrace remained on the other side of the room but well within earshot of their conversation.

  "I must say," said Danes, "that I find our treatment something of a mystery. Tell me, are all prisoners treated so grandly?" Danes indicated the suite with a wave of his good hand.

  Denard grinned and rubbed his chin. "Honestly? No, you and your remaining crew have been singled out for this rather special honor because of your unique status." Danes had assumed as much. He had something the Nova Cats wanted, and he was being treated with respect while they determined the best way to get it. He had no doubt about what would happen to him and the surviving crew once the Cats got what they wanted. Slavery, or worse.

  "Tell me, is Mech Warrior Podell recovering?" Denard's question caught Danes off guard, as he imagined it was supposed to.

  The DropShip captain nodded and smiled slightly. "Your skill in medicine has helped her speedy recovery. She was up for awhile earlier this morning. I suspect she will make a full recovery."

  "That is indeed excellent news. A warrior is an asset that should never be taken lightly."

  "Tell me, Star Colonel," said Danes, "to what do I owe the honor of your visit? Your doctors have informed me that you are an important man on this planet. Surely you have more important things to do than talk with a lowly DropShip captain."

  Nothing is more important than our conversation, thought Denard. He clasped his hands behind his back and turned toward the room. "Perhaps we could make ourselves more comfortable, quiaff?" He indicated a pair of chairs, and Danes chose the one nearest the window. Although that put Denard's back to the hallway and door beyond, he did not think there was anything to worry about with Thrace standing guard. He walked to the remaining chair and sat down opposite Danes.

  Denard casually studied the DropShip captain as Danes struggled to find a comfortable position. From reading the reports of the DropShip's crash, Denard knew Danes was in co
nsiderable physical and emotional pain. He planned to use that pain to his own advantage, inflicting more if necessary.

  The crash of the DropShip had killed most of the crew. The only survivors were Danes, the navigator, and the cargomaster. The bridge had been almost completely destroyed, causing the greatest number of casualties. Danes had apparently been thrown from his command chair into the navigation console. The fall must have broken his arm, but that was not listed in the report Denard had seen. Doubtless there were other injuries as well.

  As it turned out, the navigation console was the only station that survived the crash. The rest of the bridge was reduced to debris when one of the support beams broke loose and collapsed. The pilot was killed by the falling beam, and the rest of the crew was killed by the collapse of the ceiling. It was a miracle a fire didn't break out from the extensive damage to the electronic systems, but the DropShip had been spared the subsequent fires so common in "high-risk landings." The cargomaster must have survived on dumb luck.

  Danes finally stopped struggling in the chair. He had either found the position he was looking for or else had abandoned the effort. As Denard continued to watch him, he noticed the lack of color in the captain's face. He wondered if that was natural or an indication of his current physical condition.

  "You did well to land your ship in one piece," Denard offered. Danes scoffed and looked around the room. He was obviously uncomfortable with the praise.

  "I mean it," continued Denard. "I know of no other captain who could have done better. Considering the damage your ship suffered at the hands of the Nova Cat Cavaliers, I am amazed the ship survived."

  Danes stared at Denard, content to let the giant man lead the conversation. He was sure he knew where the talk was going, but there wasn't much he could do about it. After regaining consciousness aboard the battered bridge of the Tracy K, he had tried to set the self-destruct mechanism, but the extensive damage had prevented the system from operating. With enough time, he could have destroyed the computer core, but he'd been barely able to move immediately following the crash. Danes had been captured by Clan Elementals less than five meters from where he'd awakened.