Bred for war

by Michael A. Stackpole

  "Can you please make sense, Natasha?"

  She laughed. "They're not coming, Marco. They know this is a trap. Order the Eleventh off the plateaus and to the DropShips. They are to head out, bound for Wotan. Survivors from there and the wounded go to Phelan."

  She heard the concern in Marco's voice. "Why are you telling me this, Khan Natasha? You can give those orders yourself."

  "Not me, Marco. I'm staying here."

  "What?"

  "You are now the head of the Thirteenth Wolf Guards. Pull them back, too. Make me proud on Wotan."

  "Heat gotten to you, Natasha? That's madness."

  "No, it's not. Their fear, the Crusaders' fear, was that their battle-hardened leaders would be too old to fight when the invasion began anew. They are wrong, but I can play to their fear." As the plan crystallized in her mind, Natasha felt a sense of lightness that she'd not known since her lover, Joshua Wolf, had been murdered forty years earlier in the Marik civil war. "One by one, I'll challenge the Falcon officers here. They'll die in the Gash, and that'll destroy their morale along with any competent officers they have."

  Natasha waved Marco Hall's Hellbringer up into the Gash. "Go, Marco, go. Destroy Wotan, then come back and get me."

  She expected a quick riposte from Marco, but the man's response came terribly subdued. "They could kill you."

  "Them? Not likely. They think youth and new genes will win out. I'll prove to them that age and experience are far superior." Natasha forced bravado into her voice because the twinges in her back and legs told her that she was not at her best at the moment. "Besides, even if I do die, it is better to die here, in combat, than in some nursery, wiping the noses of sibko brats."

  Marco's 'Mech pushed on, but the man's voice stayed with her. "If you do die here, Natasha, I will not be coming back. I don't want to be anyplace you might be haunting."

  Natasha laughed freely. "Fear not, my friend. There are countless Falcon ghosts here I can terrorize. Go, Star Colonel, and show Khan Chistu no mercy."

  As his 'Mech disappeared among the blood-red sands, Natasha felt alone, but this time it was different. She had faced terrible danger by herself before, and in those times she had always sensed something missing in her. She had never known what that might have been, but no longer did she feel the lack.

  She felt complete.

  She was the Black Widow.

  Natasha switched her radio over to the Jade Falcon tactical frequency. She heard pops and squeals from their scrambled transmissions, but paid them no heed. Her words, which would not be scrambled, would get her message through.

  "I am Khan Natasha Kerensky of Clan Wolf. I have sent my troops away. I wait in the Great Gash of Twycross to meet and slay any Jade Falcon who thinks more of himself than he should and prefers courage to wisdom. Come now. Your time is at hand."

  39

  Guerrilla war is far more intellectual than a bayonet charge.

  —T.E. Lawrence, The Science of Guerrilla Warfare

  Daosha, Zurich

  Zurich People's Republic, Capellan Confederation

  9 December 3057

  Noble Thayer smiled and shook Fabian Wilson's hand as the man joined him and Cathy at the booth in the rear of the Cathay Cafeteria. "Thank you for coming." Beyond Fabian, back by the door, Ken Fox gave Noble a nod before he took a seat at a table near the restaurant's entrance. That meant Fabian had not been followed and their meeting should remain uninterrupted by the reconstituted State Security Committee.

  "When I got the word, I knew it would be important."

  "You could definitely say that." Noble took Cathy's hand and gave it a squeeze to reassure her, then lowered his voice. "I've spent the last ten days planning a mission and recruiting some new people for it. Because you lack weapons' training, I have an auxiliary job for you. It may not seem important at first, and you'll be working with Cathy on it, but it is vital."

  Fabian listened intently and nodded his head. "I'm in."

  "Don't you want to hear what it is first?"

  The man's head came up. He glanced side to side, then leaned forward. "Look, you know me. I sold you a computer and everything. My life was a dead end. I know that. My ship was always coming in next week or the week after that. I was always living in the future. Well, this is now, see? Man, it's like having sex for the, first time. It's so real. And it helps people. I mean, being a salesman, I always wanted to do the best for my customers, but I had to eat and the commission on nothing is nothing, right? So I don't care if you have me clipping coupons or what. I'm in."

  Noble smiled as did Cathy. "This mission is going to be very big, my friend. And everyone will know we struck."

  "Like they don't from the Armory?"

  "That's old news. This will be big, really big." Noble looked around the room, then sat back and sipped some tea. "The government, in their desire to level society to one class, has killed a number of the people who designed the computer system the government is using. All the computers have a twelve-hour backup battery, but it only works for twelve hours if regularly discharged and recharged. I have learned that this maintenance schedule has been neglected. The municipal backup generators are still offline because of the Armory explosions, so the batteries are it right now.

  "If the computers are without power for five hours, they will have to be backed up from CD-WORMs recorded earlier. I've succeeded in inserting a virus into the backup CD-WORMs that will destroy the data State Security uses to find its victims. To force the re-start from back-ups, the Dancing Joker will be taking down the Jihuaide Chumai Power Station on the twentieth."

  Fabian's jaw dropped open and Cathy stared at Noble with similar surprise. He felt a tremble run through her hand, so he winked at her. "It will be our biggest operation yet."

  Fabian shook his head in disbelief. "The station has its own little garrison unit."

  "That shouldn't be a problem, but I can't tell you any more about the plan. It's the cell system. It's for all of us and our safety. Cathy can confirm that she's not known anything about this until now—unless I talk in my sleep."

  Cathy took Noble's left hand in both of hers and shook her head. "So, Mr. DJ, what's the plan?"

  "There are two roads into and out of the station. You'll be the lookouts on Northstar Drive. If you see anything, you'll radio us at the plant and we'll react accordingly. Reaction time from the Black Cobra facilities at Kaishiling Garrison Base is ten minutes, but only if they're running from a hot start in their 'Mechs. Even if an alarm goes out the second we strike, we'll have more than enough time to do what has to be done."

  Fabian frowned. "You have others watching the other road, right?"

  "Need to know, for your safety and theirs."

  "Right, right, sorry." Fabian shook his head. "I got one question for you, but you'll probably 'cell system' me on it, too."

  Noble shrugged. "Ask."

  Fabian's voice became a whisper. "Look, you're not really a school teacher, are you? All this stuff you've done here, that's not school teacher stuff. You're really a Davion agent, aren't you, sent here to stir things up."

  "You're very intelligent, Mr. Wilson, and you've seen a great deal," Noble told him, "but the last time I answered that question, I had to kill the person who asked it."

  Fabian held his hands up. "Enough said."

  "Indeed, enough said." Noble smiled, then reached down and gave Cathy's leg a playful squeeze. "Now, shall we eat?"

  40

  Between a battle lost and a battle won, the distance is immense and there stand empires.

  —Napoleon Bonaparte

  Wotan, Jade Falcon Occupation Zone

  10 December 3057

  Khan Vandervahn Chistu could barely contain his anger. When Khan Elias Crichell slapped him on the back, he almost reacted instinctively and smashed the older man in the face. He could feel his fist mashing lips against teeth, crushing Crichell's nose, and blackening his eyes. And the shock that would register on Crichell's face would be
vastly preferable to the unbridled mirth there now.

  "It was brilliant, Vahn, brilliant. Keeping line units here as if you were afraid of her, then overwhelming her on Twycross." Crichell clapped his hands. "Now Natasha Kerensky is dead and our plans can go forward."

  "Yes, my Khan."

  Crichell reacted to the clipped delivery of Chistu's words. "Is there something wrong? Is it possible the report was in error? Is it possible that Natasha yet lives?"

  Chistu shook his head. "No, my Khan, there is no chance she survived. She died in single combat with one of the Falcon Guards. Her cockpit was breached, destroyed. There is no doubt. The Black Widow is dead."

  "Excellent. Everything is going as we planned it."

  We planned it? Chistu was glad Crichell had his back turned and could not see his expression. An aging pilot had killed Natasha Kerensky in single combat. He had watched the gun-camera holovids of the fight over and over again. The Black Widow was truly and finally dead. He should be rejoicing because one of the three threats to the Jade Falcons had died so ignominiously, but he could not take pleasure in her demise.

  He had wanted to finish her. He had intended to bring the Black Widow to her knees. He would have made her beg for life. He would have broken her and made her his bondswoman. He would have humiliated and ridiculed her and, by bringing her to heel, he, Vandervahn Chistu, would have been elected the next ilKhan. And then, to him would have come the glory of taking Terra and restoring the Star League.

  But an old warrior on Twycross had robbed him of his victory. Chistu made a mental note to find out who that warrior was and see if she would be useful in the future. She did deserve some sort of reward, and she'd not be getting it for the overall outcome of the fighting there. Aside from Natasha's death, the battle on Twycross had been relatively unremarkable. The Falcons had won—Natasha's troops had fled—but it was a bit of a pyrrhic victory in that the Sixth Provo had been heavily damaged and the Fifth Talon had lost a quarter of its 'Mechs.

  Crichell rubbed his jaw with his right hand as he turned back to face Chistu. "You have a similar reception planned for Ulric and his horde on Butler?"

  "Ulric?" Chistu frowned as he thrust his anger aside. "Yes, on Butler. I have the Seventh and Eighth Provisional Garrisons and the Seventh and Eighth Talon Clusters on the planet. Ulric's fleet came into the Buder system at a pirate point a good way out on the orbital plane. They are working their way in and have already inquired what forces we will be using to defend the planet."

  Crichell raised a bushy gray eyebrow. "You have sent only garrison units to deal with Ulric? Should you not have sent a frontline unit, the way you sent the Falcon Guards to kill Natasha on Twycross? You have four here on Wotan, any one of them more than equal to the job."

  Chistu clenched his jaw for a second, then slowly shook his head. "True, but I had hoped I would not need them. You have seen from the damage reports how seriously we have been hurt by this war. We will need time to rebuild, but if we can keep some frontline units intact, it will mean we can strike sooner.

  "My plan is to let the garrison units engage Ulric. Since our units are defending, they will have an advantage over the Wolves and should be able to cripple them even if they cannot kill them. In the event that Ulric wins the fight, I will deploy our line units here to force him to defend his victory." Chistu frowned as his explanation fell on deaf ears. "Is there something wrong, Elias?"

  The other Khan nodded slowly. "You say we will have to rebuild before we can renew the invasion?"

  Vandervahn Chistu nodded once, emphatically, and took pleasure in the fact that Crichell had paled considerably. "Five years, I should think. Possibly seven."

  "Five years, or seven?"

  "Yes, Elias, an eyeblink." Except if, like you, one is a MechWarrior whose skills have long since faded.

  "Do you really think that will be necessary?"

  "If you wish the Falcons to take Terra, yes." Chistu's head came up. "Unless ..."

  "Yes?"

  "I could take the frontline units we have here and form them into a new Galaxy. I would also bring in the Peregrine Galaxy—after they kill the Wolves on Morges, of course. We could stage again on Quarell and then blow through to Terra when you, as ilKhan, repudiate the truce."

  As Crichell's smile grew, Chistu made certain to ape it on his face. I will do no such thing, of course. In fact, if I let it be known in the Grand Council that you had planned such an underhanded drive to Terra, you would be in serious trouble. I will say that I, offered the glory of that conquest, rejected it as unfair. Then I will be elected ilKhan in your place. After my accession, I will be able to control the destiny of our Clan and, through it, the future of humanity.

  "Yes, Vahn, I think that would be superior. Finish Ulric on Butler, then push on toward Terra with our best troops. We have not fought this war with the Wolves just to be thwarted by their Warden strategy. That would mean Ulric won, and I will not have that."

  "As you wish it, my Khan." Chistu bowed deeply. And if I get my wish at the same time, you as well as Ulric will be the loser.

  41

  A battle sometimes decides everything; and sometimes the merest trifle decides a battle.

  —Napoleon Bonaparte, Letter to Barry E. O'Meara, 9 November 1816

  JumpShip Dire Wolf, Inbound

  Butler, Jade Falcon Occupation Zone

  10 December 3057

  His eyes burning from lack of sleep and his neck and upper back muscles aching from hours hunched over a computer terminal, Vlad stepped into the holotank and looked over at Ulric. Conflicting emotions warred within him. Though he wanted to hate the man, and certainly did, Vlad realized he respected him too. He also felt grateful because Ulric had entrusted him with planning the assault on Butler.

  "I have finished, my Khan. I am prepared to show you my plans. Though we are reduced to two and a half functional Clusters, I have taken the best of the garrison pilots from Tau Galaxy and used them to reinforce our line units. We have two full Garrison Clusters left over, the Fifth Wolf Regulars and the First Cavalry, to use as reinforcements." Vlad allowed himself a brief smile. "Even with the Falcons using fortifications, I believe we can defeat them."

  Ulric nodded slowly, as if giving Vlad's words great weight, but Vlad had the impression Ulric barely heard him. "What would be your assessment of the condition of our troops after this fight? Estimate conservatively—give me the highest casualties and slowest repair rate you can."

  The seriousness in Ulric's voice surprised Vlad and cut away at his fatigue. "If we are forced to use our reserves, I would estimate we will come out of this with one and a half to two frontline Clusters, with a Trinary or two of garrison-level troops to spare. The defenders outnumber us and though they have chosen to defend separate sites on the planet, which will allow us to overwhelm individual garrisons, I cannot imagine they will not band together quickly and pursue us."

  "That is my thinking as well." Ulric gave Vlad a cold, blue-eyed stare. "How much of a Wolf are you, Vlad?"

  "I do not understand you, Ulric."

  Ulric smiled slowly. "How loyal are you to your Clan, Vlad?"

  "Have I ever given you cause to doubt my loyalty?" Vlad frowned, the flesh around the scar tugging on the left side of his face. "You have ample time to review my plans in the five days before we reach Butler. If you think I have betrayed the Wolves, you can deal with me before we attack. If I am guilty of treason no punishment would be too harsh."

  "Ah, an excellent parry and riposte, Vlad. You remind me that I have been charged with treason—by your investigation."

  "That was not my intention, Ulric."

  "No, I do not suppose it was—at least not entirely." The white-haired man began to pace the interior of the holotank, circling Vlad like a hungry shark. "The fighting we engage in will be fierce. You will be fighting by my side. If my 'Mech is disabled, what will you do?"

  "I will defend you, or do what I must to safeguard you."

  "Why?"r />
  That question blasted through the facade Vlad had erected over the months to shield him from Ulric's probing queries. Why would I save him? I revile him. I want him dead. Suddenly the answer came to him and he knew he could never repeat it to Ulric. I want him defeated, but he will never be defeated. The Falcons did not see this—none of the Crusaders saw this. Ulric is a Wolf and more than they will ever be able to break.

  "I will defend you because I am a Wolf and you are a Wolf. I need no other reason."

  Ulric came face to face with Vlad. "If I fall, you know what your duty is, quiaff?"

  "To win."

  "To preserve the Clan. If victory will do that, then you will win. If it will not, you will do what you must to bring as many of the Clan as possible to Khan Phelan."

  Vlad stiffened. "Take them to Phelan?"

  Ulric shrugged. "That, or surrender to the Jade Falcons and become a bondsman in their Clan."

  "There is no lesser of evils in that choice, Ulric."

  The older man laughed aloud. "Ah, you might have made a good Khan after all. Perhaps you will find a better option when the time comes."

  I may do just that, Ulric. Vlad exhaled slowly. "Phelan is fighting on Morges. You would have me take our survivors to him if he lives?"

  "If he lives. If he is dead, if Natasha is dead, then responsibility for the fate of Clan Wolf falls to you."

  Vlad's jaw dropped open. 'To me?" He shook his head. "Why would you entrust the future of the Wolves to me? I am a Crusader."

  Ulric opened his hands. "In the Clans we select which genetic combinations will produce the most superior warriors. This is evolution by choice, but evolution happens on more than just a physical level. The human race has evolved philosophically, and so, too, have the Clans. Once we were all Wardens, but now the Crusaders have risen in power. Perhaps the Crusader philosophy is superior to that of the Wardens. Perhaps it will give rise to something new in our Clan ways.