Wolves on the Border
Page 9
Minobu knew that the human body was not meant to deal with the agonies Wolf had suffered yesterday, and the Colonel was no longer a young man. Minobu also knew that the body was resilient enough to heal swiftly from terrible injury if driven by a great will. He could only wonder if Wolf still possessed that will.
The mercenary Colonel watched the holomap as he had in the command center at Batan, though he played no variations with it. He dealt with the problems his officers brought to him, but initiated no discussions. His response to questions was slow, his speech slurred. There was no edge to the man. He seemed detached from his surroundings.
Was this the warrior who had brought troops from nowhere into the Inner Sphere, and then built a reputation as the elite mercenary unit of the Successor States? The tireless commander? The implacable foe? This was a man showing the effects of nearly twenty years of constant warfare. A shadow of the fox who had played dominance games with Minobu at their first meeting. Had the brush with death been a kind of tidewater for the man? Had Minobu saved Wolf's body only to lose the man's essence?
If the recent adventure were not a turning point for Wolf, it had certainly been one for Minobu. He felt renewed, in touch with his internal peace. Out in the badlands, he had known muga once more. Then, in the battle, there had been mushin, that peculiarly martial form of action-without-thought in which one was free from remorse. The action of the moment and its proper completion became the all of existence. A samurai's peace.
Cameron's voice caught his attention. The Captain was confirming that the approaching machines were the party expected from Batan. Wolf made no reply. The Colonel had fallen asleep where he sat.
Cameron did not repeat himself when he got no reaction from his superior. Instead, he positioned himself at Major Yukinov's shoulder. Business proceeded in the MHQ, Yukinov answering questions for Wolf and giving the orders that the Colonel would probably have given. No concern for overstepping command boundaries was shown. No one contradicted Yukinov or questioned his authority or seemed concerned that his orders might be countermanded, should Wolf awake. The Dragoons continued their operations free from the paralysis other units might have experienced without their commander at the helm. Minobu settled in to observe their performance.
“Kurita 'Mechs passing the pickets, Colonel,” Cameron said, his hand on the sleeping man's shoulder. Wolf's eyes opened at once, then blinked at the light flooding in from the open hatchway.
“Time to go out and meet them.” Wolf rose, wincing as his damaged arm bumped the edge of the holotank. The senior officers present left their posts to join him, and Minobu followed in their wake.
The air was chill with the cool of the night, too cold for the light coverall Minobu wore. When the party moved into the sunlight to face the northeastern end of the canyon, warmth flooded Minobu's body, and his shivering ceased.
In the distance, the morning light flashed on the Kurita 'Mechs as they filed through a gap in the walls of the canyon holding Alpha's field headquarters. The head of their column had already disappeared down into the shadows, where it would be negotiating the tortuous terrain between the entrance and the broad tableland where the MHQ was stationed. Two full companies passed while Minobu watched.
Beyond the cluster of reconnaissance vehicles that served the MHQ, activity continued undisturbed, as it had through the night. Alpha Regiment had set up its field repair and supply facilities in the same location. Some theorists have speculated that the double target of command and logistics headquarters was too great a temptation to place before an enemy, but the Dragoons seemed to feel secure. Even the damaged BattleMechs in for repair would be dangerous to an attacker. The functional vehicles of the Command Lance and the guard 'Mechs hidden in the surrounding terrain would make the cost of any attack very high. Certainly too high for the Snake Stompers, with what they could muster in the Rift.
Minobu watched the Dragoon Techs servicing the 'Mechs scattered around the canyon floor. Coolant trucks and ammunition lighters attended each in turn. The former tended a machine's heat exchanger system, flushing warmed coolant out and replacing it with a fresh, cold supply before the latter supplied the ammunition to bring each weapon's magazine to full capacity. Technicians swarmed over the 'Mechs, rigging replacement armor slabs, substituting new components for damaged ones, and improvising where they didn't have the parts. Though the Techs had labored through the night, they had proceeded at a leisurely pace, with light work loads for each shift. The fighting had been trivial so far, and there was no need for frenzied repairs to get machines back in the line.
One operation caught Minobu's attention. A Wolverine stood within a light alloy framework. Radiation sheeting hung from the scaffolding to keep the machine cut off from the rest of the field while a Tech worked on the fusion plant from the safety of a repair platform. That kind of work was usually done only in rear areas or after a deciding battle, which further underscored how confident the Dragoons were of the safety of their bivouac.
As the leading Kurita 'Mechs reached the field, Minobu's attention shifted immediately from the Dragoon repair operations. Anticipation rose in him at the realization that he would soon meet his master, Lord Takashi Kurita. He adjusted the angle of his swords in his belt, fretting about the suitability of the borrowed Dragoon coverall he wore. If only he had taken his own uniform with him in the Vindicator. Surely Lord Kurita would understand the pressures of necessity.
Unlike the forward elements that preceded a typical Kurita BattleMech company, this lance was not composed of light 'Mechs. Each machine massed at least fifty tons. Foremost was the tiger-striped Marauder that carried the white dragon-claw insignia of Brett Hawken. In a signal to the other machines, the 'Mech spread its forearms, broad and blocky because of the heavy cooling jackets encasing the paired weapons that ended each arm. They dispersed and took overwatch positions around the MHQ. Lowering itself down from its walking position, the Marauder settled back on it clawed legs like a scorpion waiting for its prey.
More 'Mechs came into view, among them a BattleMaster with the serpentine dragon of House Kurita painted on its chest. Though most of the machines stopped a hundred meters away, the BattleMaster came on, followed by four others, all bearing the rank insignia of officers. They continued toward the group of Dragoon officers until their shadows covered the men on the ground and the vehicles behind them.
The BattleMaster loomed above the group, servomotors sighing as the giant machine came to rest. Soft hisses and crackling signaled the release of tension in motor components as the 'Mech settled into quiescence. As cooling vents popped open in the sides of the massive torso, the smell of hot lubricants drifted down to Minobu. The canopied cockpit opened, and the 'Mech's pilot emerged to begin the climb down his machine.
The man was well-built, with the hard muscles and belly of a ki adept. His motions were sure and steady, more like those of a man in his thirties than one who had seen over fifty summers. He wore a Kurita ‘MechWarrior's standard combat gear, save that it carried no rank insignia and the belt buckle was made of ivory set in gold. Minobu knew him at once.
The man striding toward their waiting group was Lord Takashi Kurita, Coordinator of the Draconis Combine, Duke of Luthien, ultimate lord of all Kurita samurai.
Though Minobu had never met Lord Kurita, could any inhabitant of the Draconis Combine not know that face? It stared out at them from millions of patriotic posters and solidographs. The strong, square features were marred on the left cheek by small scars. Except for the pure white at his temples and a streak in Kurita's widow's peak, his close-cropped hair was raven black. Most striking were his eyes. Steely blue, they peered out from under slight epicanthric folds. These were the Eyes of the Dragon itself: cold, penetrating, keeping their secrets while peeling away the secrets of those on whom they gazed. At the moment, those eyes were taking in the members of Wolf's command staff.
Lord Kurita's gaze rested on Minobu. It took in the plain Dragoon coverall he wore and swept on
to the swords at his belt before returning to his face. Minobu thought he saw recognition flash briefly before it became hidden behind the bland mask of a political man. Minobu realized how tense he had become by the relief he felt when, without a word, the Coordinator stepped forward, extending his hand to Jaime Wolf.
“Good day, Colonel Wolf. I am most pleased to meet you at last.”
Wolf took the Coordinator's hand. Minobu could see the tendons in each man's hand stand out as he tested the other's grip. “You honor us with your presence, Lord Kurita.”
“Not an unusual honor for you. You have served under all the Successor Lords, and now at last, me. I am looking forward to many visits with such a renowned commander. Perhaps, in one of them, you will tell me why you have resisted my offers for so long.” The Coordinator's voice was mild, with no hint of accusation. “Your Dragoons have an unmatched reputation as warriors, and we know how to honor true warriors in the Combine. Perhaps now you have found a lasting home. Surely you will find our martial ways more to your liking than the effete mishandling you received under your Steiner contract.”
“We look forward to a good working relationship, Coordinator.”
“A diplomatic answer, Colonel.” Takashi cocked his head at Wolf. “Perhaps not so diplomatic as your actions. You were not at Batan to meet me, and my officers were not pleased.” A slight gesture indicated the officers who had come up from their 'Mechs. Among them was Gensai Terasu, scowling as usual. “They reported you had something that you considered more important than meeting the head of state.”
“The military situation required my presence, Lord Kurita.” Wolf's response was bold and honest, but he softened it in just the right way to soothe a Kurita lord. “I was sure you would understand that a warrior must do his duty.”
Wolf had played it correctly. Takashi barked a short laugh. “I am glad to see that you put your duty before petty matters of protocol.”
The expressions on the faces of the Sworder officers showed all too plainly that they did not agree.
“But I am remiss. It is clear that you still suffer from your recent misadventure. I will have my personal doctor attend you. He is the finest of the Brotherhood physicians.”
“With all respect, Coordinator, my injuries are of no importance.” Despite Wolf's words, Minobu could see that he had paled considerably during his talk with Lord Kurita. Wolf was toughing it out. Like a samurai, he betrayed no weakness and gave no admission that wounds mattered. The fire was still alive. Inside, where no one could see, Minobu smiled.
The Coordinator must also have noticed Wolf's pallor.
“At least, then, we can retire to the command vehicle, where we will all be more comfortable. We old soldiers know about wounds. Ah, for the days when wounds were my only concern.” He walked beside Wolf to the MHQ. As they boarded, he said, “I am anxious to see your Dragoons in action.”
The cooled air of the MHQ was an obvious relief to Wolf. Even so, he still looked shaky to Minobu. Wolf introduced his officers and deftly passed the work of the briefing to his intel officer, Major Blake, who outlined the situation for the new arrivals.
“As you can see, Coordinator, we have contained the salient at Fire Rift and are prepared to launch a thrust to blunt its threat. Our skirmishers have maneuvered the two companies of Snake Stompers that advanced without orders from Fasolht into position during the night. No reinforcements for them are expected. Indeed, intelligence intercepts of Federated transmissions indicate that they are refusing recall orders. The Davion forces are holding within their established defense perimeters at Carson and Fasolht.”
Blake stopped to ostentatiously consult his watch. He smiled when he looked again at the gathered Kurita officers. “Five minutes ago, elements of Alpha Regiment began Operation Sleight. If you will direct your attention to the holotank, you will be able to follow the action.”
In the tank, images of the battle unfolded, with Major Blake supplying commentary to supplement the chatter of the command channel piped into the MHQ.
The main force of Dragoons was moving west across the field. They had obviously been observed by the Snake Stompers, for several enemy machines moved to harass the column. As they approached, a detachment separated from the main body of the Dragoons. It was clear to those in the MHQ that this was no simple reaction to brush away a nuisance. The two companies of medium 'Mechs that moved out were under the direct command of Major Yukinov, but there was no way for the Davion mercenaries to know that.
The fighting quickly separated those first hostile 'Mechs from their fellows. The Dragoons intended to keep them that way. Through clever maneuvering and sharp rebuttals to countermovement, they succeeded. Unknown to those skirmishers, the rest of the Snake Stompers were being forced back, away from Fasolht and away from their comrades. They were being guided into a trap.
The bulk of the Stompers, fighting their usual hit-and-run battle, were forced slowly west, herded into a prepared position where the Dragoons turned the tables on them. The badlands that had sheltered the Stompers for days now provided cover for the Dragoon trap. Two companies of concealed heavy BattleMechs opened up on the Stomper force, taking down a quarter of their number in the first fusillade. Next, carefully sited demolitions and blocking units cut off the Stompers' retreat. Those canny veterans did not take long to realize their plight, and they began to surrender.
Smooth, efficient, and professional, the Dragoon operation had proceeded without a hitch. Cameron relayed the casualty reports; only two 'Mechs were totally out of action. Of the other fifteen that the Stompers had damaged or disabled, nine would be in the field by evening, with the rest functional again by late the following day. The Dragoon recovery and repair teams were as impressive as their soldiers.
“Cowards,” Hawken said. “They surrender while they can still fight. They're worthless dogs.”
“If they had been fighting Kurita soldiers, they wouldn't have surrendered, Sho-sa.” Wolf's eyes were hard. “They would have died to the last man and taken many Draconians with them. Many would have died needlessly.”
“Such a death is a warrior's death. A soldier can hope for no more.” A smile crossed Hawken's face at the thought. “If they would fight to their last man, I would be proud to lead a charge against such determination. Proud to be the death of such dedicated foes. And they would be proud to die.”
“There's no pride in useless death. What you describe is an unprofitable waste of men and material. Only an irresponsible commander would waste his resources so.”
Hawken shrugged and turned his back on Wolf.
Minobu watched Lord Kurita, who had said nothing. Though feigning not hearing the exchange, he could not have missed it in the confines of the MHQ. Hawken had said no more than was expected of any Kurita soldier, but Wolf had spoken like an honorless merchant. He had also implied that a Combine officer was a fool. And yet, Lord Kurita said nothing. Was it possible that he agreed with Wolf?
Tiny in the holotank, a lone ‘Mech Warrior stubbornly resisted the inexorable advance of the Dragoons.
“What is next, Major Blake?” This came from a Kurita Tai-i whom Minobu did not recognize.
“Now we clean up the ambush site. We don't want the opposition to know just how much force we brought to bear. The Stomper skirmishers will be allowed to observe their opponents rejoining our column moving west. We plan to have them overhear quite a bit of radio traffic. They will not be allowed to observe where we hold up the column.
“This should go a long way to convincing them that we have passed on Fasolht and probably on Carson as well. The continued deception of our lead elements will add to the impression that our ground force is moving to the relief of Delta Regiment and the assault on Port Gailfry. We anticipate that the Davions will react by forming the mobile forces from Fasolht and Carson into a strike force. They'll try to hit us in our presumably unprotected flank before we can link with Delta and overwhelm the White Witches and the Port Gailfry Defense Team.
“That is all excellent, Major.” Lord Kurita's praise sounded sincere. He turned to Wolf. “I should like to see some of this action, Colonel Wolf. I will accompany you with Delta Regiment for the fight with the Davion 'Mechs. I wish a presence with the real assault as well. Chu-sa Tetsuhara and Sho-sa Hawken and his unit will accompany Alpha Regiment.”
“As you wish, Coordinator.” Wolf was clearly not pleased, but then neither was Hawken. In fact, the only one in the room who seemed at ease with the announcement of the Coordinator's plans was Takashi Kurita himself.
11
Alpha Regiment MHQ, Fasolht, Quentin IV
Draconis March, Federated Suns
21 June 3023
Minobu was almost alone in the Alpha MHQ. Major Yukinov and his immediate subcommanders had left to oversee an assault on a Davion strong point at the Independence Weaponry manufacturing complex, leaving a skeleton staff to monitor operations. While Hawken dozed in the far corner, Minobu switched on the holotable. Accessing the Stratops file, he replayed, at compressed speed, the maneuvering since the action in Fire Rift four days ago.
Wolf's improvisation to the basic plan had worked perfectly. Davion intelligence missed the concentration of Dragoon forces, and so their forces were taken in by the deception. The Federated Suns commander stripped Fasolht and Carson of their mobile forces to catch a nonexistent Dragoon force in the flank. Once the Federated forces were committed, Wolf led the main BattleMech striking force of Delta Regiment into Davion's own flank. The 'Mech battles were brutal, especially when the fighting spilled over onto the Plains of Glass. More 'Mechs were lost there to heat problems than to enemy action.