Remembering how Tassa Kay and Kyle Powers had both argued for the important part such concerns played in Steel Wolf reasoning, he figured it couldn't hurt to appeal to her warrior's nature.
"Or do you really want Star Colonel Torrent's cast-offs?" he asked derisively, with all the strength he had left.
Raul never heard the order passed but, first singly and then in large packs, the Steel Wolves broke away from the fighting and fell back toward their waiting DropShips. Blaire ordered all retreating forces to be left alone. On the far side of the field, Erik Sandoval knew enough to also let the Steel Wolves withdraw.
"We will consider our position," the SM1 commander told him. "Tomorrow we bargain."
Then the Destroyer spun around in place and raced away, cutting close to several IndustrialMechs but never targeting them, unafraid that they would dare touch her.
"Tomorrow we bargain," Raul agreed, but with less enthusiasm than before. With adrenaline bleeding away along with his life's blood, a heavy weariness crept up. Rolling the injured BattleMech onto its back again, Raul stretched it out in the best possible posture for loading. "I could use a recovery vehicle here," he said, closing his eyes.
In the darkness, he felt his shoulder throb. "And a medic."
Lying back into his seat, he let exhaustion claim him.
28 - Reunion
M.A.S.H. Truck Bravo-Four
Achernar
18 March 3133
Raul fought his way back to consciousness through dark cobwebs, peeling away one sticky layer at a time. Bit by bit, he remembered the battle.
Tassa Kay's fighting retreat and eventual dodge back into the city.
Star Colonel Torrent's death in a blazing, acrid pyre.
The dark exhaustion that had claimed him.
Trying to coax some life back into his body, Raul focused all his strength into one arm, lifting it to his face where he hoped to rub the last of the cobwebs from his eyes. Someone caught his hand, held it. A warm, soft touch.
"Jessica?" Was that too much to hope for? In his waking state, Raul did not want to believe so.
"Is it over?" Jessica Searcy asked.
The battle. The fighting. Raul had no doubt that that was what she meant.
"I think so. I hope so." But because he had learned more in the last few weeks than he had ever wanted to with regard to war, he told her, "For now."
He forced his gummy eyes open. Jess sat beside his wall-mounted cot, still wearing the paramilitary uniform, although now it was spattered with blood and smudged dark in several places.
"I told you to stay safe," she said.
He blinked, then glanced down at his bare chest and heavily bandaged shoulder. "Just a small scar," he reminded her. He had a double I.V. stuck into his arm, slowly rebuilding his fluid and blood loss. He started to rise, but felt too tired to put much effort into it and so slowly settled back. "Just for you."
"Get some sleep, Raul." Already her voice sounded distant. "You've earned a rest."
He shook his head. "Not today. Not yet. One more thing to do, Jess." He closed his eyes. "Then we'll see." See about the two of them. That was what he'd meant to say. Had he said it?
She seemed to know, regardless.
"Is it over?" she asked. And he knew what she meant as well
"I hope not, Jess. I hope not."
And he drifted back off, his hand still warm in hers.
29 - Strength and Honor
DropShip Lupus
Achernar
19 March 3133
Achernar's sun had barely cleared the spaceport's administration buildings when Star Captain Nikola Demos arrived at the head of the Lupus's main ramp, dressed down in a field uniform and a Needle pistol strapped against the side of her leg.
Shielding her eyes with one hand, the Steel Wolves' ranking officer surveyed the distant edge of spaceport grounds where her salvage crews continued to work over the site of yesterday's battle.
Early-morning winds had dispersed a great deal of the battle's dark pallor, but a gray haze still hung over the city and spaceport, and a breeze brought to her the acrid stench of scorched metal. Nikola Demos swiped at her nose, peered into the distance to watch her technicians stripping useful parts from the wreckage of so many vehicles and 'Mechs, hauling back entire bodies when useful.
Good enough, she decided. It was a new day, and time for a new leader.
She wouldn't know until later just how prophetic that thought had been.
The Republic party waited near the ramp's foot, their jeep parked nearby with a uniformed soldier behind the wheel and a blonde-haired medic standing next to the vehicle, repeatedly shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Their extra presence was not welcome, but Nikola let that go as she turned her attention to the waiting trio.
Three warriors, as arranged, one with his arm in a sling. No weapons on their persons that she could see, although no provision had excluded arms. Nikola checked the position of her Elemental sentries-one at each edge of the upper ramp. She didn't expect treachery-new treachery-but like her predecessor, she had learned to plan for it.
Not everyone played by the same rules as the Steel Wolves. Not many could, she supposed, and still be able to compete against the genetically engineered warriors.
Nikola'sguests talked amongst themselves while watching her people's activities with interest.
Two of them did, at least. She was halfway down the ramp before she finally recognized the third as Star Commander Yulri. He wore a white bondcord around his wrist and hovered off the shoulder of the female MechWarrior-this Tassa Kay-like an obedient guard dog.
Rather pathetic, she thought then, seeing how low one of Torrent's handpicked warriors had fallen. Could fall. There was another warning in that.
"If you will all follow me," she said in clipped tones, spending courtesy with a miser's grip, "I will take you somewhere we can sit."
"Just the two of us will be accompanying you," Tassa Kay said, nodding for herself and Yulri.
"Captain Ortega has another obligation this morning."
Nikola Demos nodded. "I see. You are not an officer of The Republic, MechWarrior Kay. You can batchall on their behalf?" Batchall was the formal term for a bargaining of forces for battle. Nikola wasn't certain it would come to that, but saw no reason to waste time if it did.
"We can discuss it inside," the other woman said.
Turning to Raul Ortega then, oblivious of the star captain's presence, Tassa stepped half a pace closer to The Republic captain. Nikola found herself appraising him with a woman's eye. He did not have the size or inherent presence of a man such as Star Colonel Torrent, but there was a hardness-a confidence-in his dark eyes that spoke of an inner strength. And he had bested Torrent in battle. Good genes, Nikola judged.
"You're certain?" Raul asked. Nikola's appraisal dropped one notch with his lazy use of contractions. "I can hold this off until tomorrow."
"To each his own." Tassa reached into a pocket, slipped out a folded piece of verifaxed paper and handed it over. "To your Exarch, with my compliments. I will not be needing it anymore."
Ortega caught up Tassa Kay's hand, tensed a moment as if caught in the act of something shameful, and then plunged on ahead. He lifted her hand up and kissed its back. "With the gratitude of Achernar."
Tassa Kay laughed. Her voice was rich and full of life. "You are Republic all right." Grabbing up a handful of his uniform front, she pulled him in for a brief, hard kiss on the mouth. "Save the courtly love for knights and ladies. And make certain my Ryoken is brought out here at once, or the next smack you get might loosen a tooth."
"I will miss you, too." With a sad smile, Ortega traded casual salutes with Tassa Kay and then left without a backward glance.
"That sounded quite a bit like a good-bye." Nikola Demos leveled a hard gaze at the other woman. "Going somewhere?"
Tassa ignored her, stepped around the star captain and preceded her up the ramp. "Aren't you coming?" she asked, the cu
rt question tossed over her shoulder as if she didn't care one way or the other whether Nikola did or not.
Nikola placed a hand into the middle of Yulri's chest, stopping him from following and thereby also preceding her. With a hard mask set over her face, she jogged up to Tassa Kay and escorted the MechWarrior into the DropShip's main bay and then through to officer's country and a series of ladders that took them up to Star Colonel Torrent's former office-now hers.
Torrent had preferred dim lighting. Nikola Demos did not. With so many hours logged inside cramped and dimly lit tanks, she reveled in brightly lit open spaces. The wall panels washed the Spartan room in sterile light, emphasizing the absence of any wall decorations or personal touches.
Those would come later, when and if Prefect Kal Radick confirmed Nikola as Torrent's successor.
"Bare, but functional," was Tassa's opinion. She slid into a seat on the near side of the desk.
Star Commander Yulri waited back at the door, standing honor guard to one side of the entry. "I will not challenge you for it, so long as you provide me with good quarters and a place inside the main BattleMech bay for my Ryoken."
"You," Nikola said, hovering over her own chair, disbelief certainly showing on her face, "will not . . . challenge?"
"Not so long as all three DropShips are off Achernar by midnight, local time. That is the deal I bargained with the militia on the Steel Wolves' behalf. If there is no JumpShip due from Tigress soon, we will take the next available commercial transport from this system."
Sitting down into her own chair with a stiff, military bearing, Nikola Demos stared daggers at the woman who presumed to dictate terms to her. She was no representative of The Republic -was not even an officer except for an honorary title they had awarded her for piloting a BattleMech. Her idea of a uniform, in fact, was nothing more than hip-hugging leather pants and a leather jacket with stainless steel buckles for fastening. Beneath the jacket, she wore nothing more official than a black T- shirt emblazoned with a red hourglass. Casual. Irreverent. Familiar...?
"If The Republic believes that they can dictate terms so easily to the Steel Wolves, we can show them the error of their ways. The HPG station may indeed be out of commission, but Achernar might still be pressed to serve as a staging ground for future operations. Who do you think you are to come in here and-".
Tassa did not allow her to build further momentum, interrupting with a hand slapped down flat and loud on the desk.
"I'm the woman who put that HPG station out of commission because it would get your attention, and I knew that we did not want the Swordsworn to keep possession of it. I'm the woman who is also telling you that Achernar is off limits. First, you have no good reason to remain here.
Second, if you should try, I promise you that I will split your force strength in half, or worse, and ensure your defeat."
Nikola scoffed. "You would do that how?"
"By challenging you for command in a Trial of Position."
"You cannot. You have no standing here." She paused, hedged. "Unless . . ." Only one thing might back up such a claim: unless Tassa Kay was Clan, and a Wolf.
A fact Tassa proved by reaching up to pull her necklace charm out from her shirt: a clear, faceted data crystal, banded with golden trim.
The star captain grounded herself back in the conversation, putting together an earlier comment by Tassa Kay with her recent orders. "You plan to accompany us back to Tigress." It was not a question; almost coming out as an accusation. Her resolve hardened. "You believe Kal Radick will support you so easily?"
With a quick yank Tassa broke the chain, then tossed the military codex to Nikola. "You will find your answers in there."
It took a single moment to power up the computer built into Torrent's office desk-her office desk!-and slip the faceted data crystal into a small slot along one edge of the spotless surface. The holographic emitter charged to life, throwing up a white screen over which scrolled two-dimensional pages of text, dates and a directory of video reports. Tassa Kay's military history, dating back from Achernar, through a military operation on Dieron and before that on the Republic world of Marfik.
And more. Tassa's original Trial of Position as a Mech Warrior and Star Colonel. Also her full genetic history, and a note of her victory in winning a Bloodname from the House of- "You are . . . "Nikola began, then swallowed dryly to coax greater strength out of her voice.
"That is, we have another . . ."
Tassa shook back her mane of dark, red hair and awarded Nikola Demos a poisonous smile.
"The name you are looking for," Tassa said with a generous helping of serious humor, "is Kerensky."
Epilog - Blackout
ComStar HPG Station: Stryker-A7
Achernar
19 March 3133
Helping Raul over the larger piles of rubble and through the twisted wreckage that had once been the HPG station's front entry, Jessica Searcy worked to keep her opinions from showing. There was still too much left to work out between Raul and herself, but she had hope for the first time in days, and she didn't care for the way he pushed himself only one day after so much dehydration and blood loss. He was, if nothing else, a patient. He was also a man she had cared for-did care for-deeply.
The compound looked better from the outside, Jessica decided, getting her first look at the ruined interior. Fire-blackened walls and a missile-scarred street was all that remained to tell of the recent battle, that and a scorched superstructure running up one side of the support tower into a twisted framework on the back of the mammoth dish.
The interior destruction was far worse, striking her like a heavy slap in the face.
Consoles sat darkened at every customer service desk. Some monitors had blown outward, as if from a massive power surge. Dark, greasy smoke stains blackened the ceiling overhead. The acrid, ozone smell of an electrical fire hung thick and cloying in the air.
Glass slivers littered the floor and stuck into seat backs as if shot there from a gun. The damage reminded Jessica of the various shards and splinters she had removed from Raul's neck and shoulder, once the corpsmen dragged him out of the Jupiter's cockpit: twelve deep lacerations, counting the shard he had pulled from his own shoulder. Yes, he'd have a good scar by which to remember the day.
And why did she feel guilty about that?
She hadn't actually meant for him to get hurt.
Well, she also believed-truly believed-that Raul hadn't meant for her to get hurt either. But was she ready to stop making him feel guilty about it?
"What the blazes ishe doing here?" Raul asked, tensing beneath her touch.
Erik Sandoval-Groell picked his way over a collapsed portion of the wire-hung ceiling, dusting chalky residue from his hands and glaring daggers at Raul. The young lord had a smudge of charcoal over one ear where he shaved up his hairline. His topknot had seen better times, sweat-matted and streaked with plaster.
A burly infantryman-their driver and courtesy guard-stepped between the two men until Raul waved him aside. Erik somehow managed to look down his nose at the taller soldier, but afforded Raul something akin to respect. Not of equals, certainly, but better than he awarded the average man.
"Do not worry. Your Governor Haidall allowed Legate Stempres and I the courtesy of twenty- four hours before liftoff. Stempres is still packing. I thought I'd use the time to make certain the HPG was down."
Raul nodded, as if expecting no less. "What about your toady, Michael Eus? Any sign of him?"
The Governor's expulsion edict, arranged the previous night and which Jessica had read about this morning, had not stopped with Erik Sandoval and Brion Stempres. All Swordsworn military forces and quite a few civilian managers of companies with economic ties to the Sandovals were joining them.
All but Michael Eus, who had gone to ground.
"I'm certain he will turn up," Erik promised darkly.
At the most inopportune time, Jessica felt certain. She watched Raul survey the room, and nod at a nearby Co
mStar manager who left his technicians and joined the small group. "Quite the mess," he greeted Raul, trading a handshake that belonged more in a mahogany-trimmed boardroom than a ruined station. Raul introduced him as Hanson Doles, chief operations manager for Stryker Productions. "I never thought I'd see the day I'd be glad to be out of business."
"We'll have you running again as soon as we can spare enough engineers and material to patch up the dish," Raul told him.
Doles slumped a bit. "From our own early evaluations, that may prove to be optimistic. We were fortunate enough to be spared when the net went down, but whatever gave us immunity, well, the blackout looks to have a hold of us now. We get no test return from Ronel, or out of Genoa."
Jessica had been wondering about that. The interior of the compound looked bad, true, but in a superficial way, like a scalp wound that bleeds worse than its actual severity.
"You can move the dish?" Jessica asked, and felt Raul tighten under her touch.
"The dish was locked onto a strong signal from Ronel when it went down," Doles told her.
"Our margin of error allows us to still try and use it, at least for another four days. Once per day we swing through a good position for Ronel and for Genoa. But so far, no return. We may be down for good."
Erik appeared cheered by the news, though he frowned again at Raul's easy shrug. "Of all the scenarios I ran through in my mind," Erik said, "that you would force the charges to detonate was not one of them. Even after I chased you-Tassa Kay, whoever was in thatLeigonnaire -from the city, I didn't see it coming."
"That's called détente." Raul glanced around the open room. "With the HPG out of our way, there's nothing left to fight over."
The nobleman smiled, thin and cold. "You win your world back, and I go home to Tikonov as a hero of the people. Ofmy people." He caught Jessica's look of confusion, and politely addressed himself to her. "My orders were to deny this station to the Steel Wolves. It was the reason I thought the Swordsworn and Republic could work together."
BattleTech : Mechwarrior - Dark Age 02 - A Call to Arms (2003) Page 28
