The trio raised their hands in the universal sign of capitulation.
A Panther filled the path before them. With a gracious bow from the waist, the ’Mech and its pilot accepted their unconditional surrender.
PART FOUR
Chapter 51
A2341CA
DIERON MILITARY DISTRICT
DRACONIS COMBINE
26 MAY 3027
Daniel Allard threw up his hands. “Am I the only one who sees this thing as insane?” He looked around the oval conference table, but none of the Kell Hound executive staff would meet his gaze. “Yes, jumping us into Kurita space was a brilliant bit of planning. They’d never expect it. Do you know why? It’s utterly mad, that’s why.” Why can’t the rest of you see that?
The hatch into the narrow, dimly lit conference room hissed open. Pale and drawn, Patrick Kell strode uneasily into the room and gently lowered himself into a chair at Dan’s left. Because Patrick was not wearing a shirt, everyone could see the massive bandages covering the puncture wound on his left side. The faintest hint of pink in the center of a bandage indicated that the wound still leaked.
Patrick smiled, then nodded his head to Captain Vandermeer at the far end of the table. “Well done, Janos.”
Dan twitched as though the praise for the captain had stung him. He shook his head, and Patrick Kell reached over with his right hand to pat the MechWarrior on the arm. “Calm yourself, Dan. There is method in our madness.” Kell winced with pain, then raised his left hand to quiet concerned inquiries. “It hurt more when they shaved my chest to tape these bandages on. Thank God the Kuritans use sharp swords.”
He looked around the room and met the combined gaze of his subordinates. “Janos and I hatched this plan after the physicians sewed me up. Desperate situations require desperate measures. What I will reveal to you now must be held in strictest confidence.” Kell waited for everyone to nod agreement before he continued.
“Janos’s people intercepted messages from the incoming Kurita ships to their forces on the ground. When the incoming attackers learned of the action around our base, they demanded confirmation of our destruction.” He narrowed his eyes for emphasis. “They didn’t want troop positions or strength estimates. They just wanted to know we were dead!”
“Payback,” Cat mumbled.
Kell nodded solemnly. “That’s it exactly.”
Richard O’Cieran frowned. “If they want us dead, this little trick isn’t going to do anything. They’ll backtrack and find us here. Hell, we’re close enough to Dieron for scout ships to flood this and any other uncolonized star in the area.” The jump troop commander nodded at Dan. “Dan’s right, we’ve dodged lasers and waltzed into PPC fire.”
Salome Ward nodded sympathetically. “It’ll take a week for us to recharge the K-F drive…”
Dan shook his head. “This is a K8 star, not a G. It’ll take just over a hundred and ninety-nine hours, but we’re not at the optimum recharging point, and we’ve not unfurled the solar collector yet. That adds another five hours to deploy and recover.”
Major Fitzpatrick looked at Janos, who nodded slowly. With a frown, Fitzpatrick turned to Kell. “Forgive me, Patrick, but spending a week and a half here will get us killed.”
“I know.” Patrick leaned back and another wave of pain twisted his features. “We’re going to try something dangerous. It’s as likely to kill us as all the Kuritans who are after us, but it’s also got a higher margin of success. Janos, please explain.”
The Cucamulus’s captain stood and pressed a button to dim the lights. He slid a panel at his end of the table toward himself, then flipped it to reveal a computer keyboard. He slid the keyboard back into place and typed in a command. Hovering above the center of the table, a holographic diagram of the Cucamulus glowed to life.
“You all know that it is the Kearny-Fuchida drive that allows us to travel so rapidly between stars. And you know, too, that the K-F drive can translocate us up to thirty light years from our current location. Those drives require an incredible amount of power to rip a hole in the fabric of space, and then project the ship through to its destination.”
Janos typed another command into the computer linked to the keyboard, and the image shifted. A chart appeared and slowly rotated so that everyone at the table could read it easily. “As Dan has pointed out—doubtless because he had to memorize such material while at the New Avalon Military Academy—A2341CA is a K-class star. Were we positioned at the optimum charging point, it would take us just over a hundred and ninety-five hours to power the drives. Adding two hours to deploy and three to recover the solar collector, we would be here more than eight days.”
Dan shook his head. Eight days if we were in the right position, which we’re not. He swallowed but said nothing aloud. I haven’t had such a feeling of doom since Morgan Kell broke up the regiment eleven years ago. Hell, the Defection was a simulator battle compared to this mess.
Janos smiled uneasily. “The reason it takes so long to charge a Kearny-Fuchida drive is not because of the amount of energy needed to fuel the equipment.” His fingers flew across the keys and a series of equations flashed up. “We could actually do it in sixteen hours.”
Fitzpatrick laughed. “Now we’re cooking with magnetic induction.”
Janos shook his head. “Not exactly, Seamus. The K-F drive is a delicate instrument. The charge must be fed into it slowly. ‘Hot-loading’ an engine causes damage on the molecular level, or so some whiz kids at the New Avalon Institute of Science believe.”
Dan frowned. “They don’t know?”
Janos shook his head quickly. “No. A couple of people have reported successfully hot-loading their engines, but no one can prove it. Other attempts have, apparently, been utter failures.”
Salome shivered. “What happened to the ships?”
“We don’t know,” Janos said with a shrug.
Patrick Kell leaned forward. “We do know, however, that it’s possible to use our in-system engine to power up the K-F drive.”
Cat smiled slyly. “So we’ll jumpstart our K-F drive and leave here before it is theoretically possible for us to be gone. The Draconians will be left assuming we died in a misjump.”
Patrick nodded slowly. “There it is.”
Dan shook his head. “I don’t like it. If we try this, we are likely to die in a misjump.” He turned to Janos. “What happens if the K-F drive just quits? Can we fix it?”
“I doubt it.” The captain sat down. “The Cucamulus is more than three hundred years old, and has worked—if the translations of the early Kurita logs are correct—like a charm since its maiden voyage. All the while this ship has been hopping between stars, no one has rediscovered what makes the K-F drive tick. If it goes, we stay here.”
Fitzpatrick leaned back. “Until Kurita comes for us.”
Patrick nodded. “Right again. What I want is for all of you to put your people to work. Seamus, your techs and aerojocks are to make sure our fighters are ready to deploy at a moment’s notice. If a Kurita ship arrives—and if they’ve got Janos’s knowledge of nonstandard jump points—we’ll need them ready to go. Salome, I want all ’Mechs fully operational, and as many of those captured Panthers working as possible. I want anyone without a jump-capable ’Mech checked out on a Panther.”
Patrick turned to the jump troop commander. “Rick, I need your troops looking sharp. Have them check out all their equipment, especially anything they need to go outside a ship.”
Dan narrowed his eyes. “It sounds as though you expect trouble.”
Patrick pursed his lips. “First of all, Dan, I don’t want a bunch of people running around thinking they’re going to die when we jump out of here. No one is to know about our plan to leave quickly. Granted, few folks know enough about the K-F drives to be worried, but I don’t want an undercurrent of fatalism sapping morale. Giving everyone something to do will keep them too busy to speculate about our plans. All they’ll know is that we’re getting out of here.�
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Salome cleared her voice. “I don’t think that was Dan’s question, Patrick. Have you and Janos decided where we’re going, and do you expect trouble when we get there?”
Kell nodded. He looked toward Janos, but the captain shook his head and pointed at a blue light flashing on his keyboard. “I must report to the bridge. I’ll let you know what is happening.”
“Very well.” Patrick waited for the hatch to slide shut behind Vandermeer before he continued. “We’re going to appear in a system that is little more than an asteroid belt. It was home to a mining company until the firm collapsed a year ago. Wayland Smith, whom some of you may remember from his time with us before the…well, he conned a great deal of money from the Kurita authorities using this played-out system as collateral. Since then, certain people have moved in…”
Dan smiled. “From the way you say ‘certain people,’ I hear echoes of the word Heimdall.” Dan shook his head as the other officers nodded or smiled. Because he’d grown up in the Federated Suns, and because of his father’s work as a Ratcatcher, he had never understood this romantic attachment that the others felt for this outlaw group. He shook his head. “I should have known.”
“We’ll make a good Lyran out of you yet, Dan,” Salome said with a laugh.
“Janos says that one of his pirate points is near the main base, which will put us at one gravity hour out from the base. I expect no trouble, but I want everyone ready.”
The officers nodded in unison. “How long do we have to recharge?” O’Cieran’s question focused everyone’s attention on Patrick.
“Janos said we’d run a twenty-eight percent failure risk if we took twenty-five hours to power, and we’ve already got three under our belts.” He winced and opened his hands. “The odds get better if we wait longer. Worse, if we don’t.”
The image of Janos’s head and torso replaced the holographic image of formulae and tables. “Patrick.”
Kell punched the button on a small commlink at his position on the table. “Go ahead.”
“A Kurita ship has arrived at the nadir point. She’s released one Invader-class DropShip, and it’s coming fast.”
“ETA?”
“Twenty-one hours.”
Kell nodded sagely. “That gives us nineteen hours to power the K-F drive. What does that make our odds?”
Janos grimaced. “Worse, Patrick. Much worse.”
Lieutenant Austin Brand disengaged his hands from Meg Lang’s as they both snapped to attention and saluted. “Afternoon, Captain.”
Dan’s head came up, and his vision cleared. They’d been sitting beneath an apple tree on the Cucamulus’s starboard agro-dome. Locked deep in thought, Dan had not noticed Meg and Brand as he approached. He smiled now to see them together, then his brows furrowed. “Why aren’t you down on the Nuada getting your ’Mechs ready?”
Meg smiled. “My Wasp is perfectly checked out, and Austin’s Commando is on the Lugh.”
Dan frowned at Austin Brand. “Lieutenant, I thought I ordered you checked out on one of the Panthers.”
Brand nodded. “Done, Dan. Jackson gave me the Panther I walked into the Nuada, and so I needed only a fraction of the time others took to imprint. Don’t forget, the Panther is a simpler machine than my Commando, even with the jump jets. My ’Mech is nestled in the Nuada’s drop bays between your Val and Meg’s Wasp.”
Dan nodded distractedly. “All twelve bays are filled?”
Brand nodded and ticked the ’Mechs off on his fingers as he spoke. “You, Meg, Eddie, and I make one lance. Major Ward’s Wolverine and Fitzhugh’s Catapult are there. McWilliams and Lasker have been assigned to Panthers to even that lance out.”
Dan wrinkled his nose with distaste and turned away. He grasped the thick branch of a gapel tree, then turned to face his people again. “That only gives us eight ’Mechs for the drop. I don’t like it.”
Meg looked at Austin, concern on her face. “Jackson and Jones have two more Panthers operational. Bethany Connor and Cat are being imprinted on them. That gives us ten.”
Dan looked up. “What about the Victor?”
Austin shook his head. “It’s still on the Mac, and still imprinted for Colonel Kell. No one else here could pilot it anyway.”
Dan nodded. “Well, get back to your ’Mechs. We’ll be leaving soon, and Patrick wants us ready to drop when we arrive.”
Meg frowned. “Hot zone?”
Dan chuckled. “This is Kurita space.”
Meg nodded. “Silly question.”
“Yeah,” said Brand. “Well, I have one that’s not so silly.” His eyes narrowed. “How can we charge a JumpShip so quickly, especially when the solar collector hasn’t even been deployed?”
Dan’s head came up, and anger frosted his words. “Don’t think about it, Lieutenant. You’re not being paid to think. When you get to be a captain, then you can think. Dismissed.”
As his two subordinates left, Dan ground his teeth. “And when they pay you to think,” he murmured, “that’s when you wish you didn’t have to…”
Chapter 52
SOLARIS VII
RAHNESHIRE
LYRAN COMMONWEALTH
26 MAY 3027
Fuh Teng and his mechanic, Tung Yuan, glanced nervously at the black shadows surrounding the cone of light where they stood. “Justin, do you really think it’s wise for us to be in Montenegro at this time of night?” He glanced out into the darkness and watched for roving bands of hoodlums.
The MechWarrior chuckled softly. He turned his back to the warehouse wall and shook his head. “We don’t have to worry. Gray Noton himself arranged the security for this place.”
Yuan grunted and shoved his fists deeper into the pockets of his quilted black jacket. “In that case, his death does nothing to inspire confidence.”
Justin laughed, then turned his attention back to the door beneath the sole streetlight. He pulled a key from his pocket and inserted it into the lock. As it clicked, he opened the door and ushered his two companions into the warehouse’s dark interior. As Justin shut the door behind them, the utter blackness seemed to swallow them whole.
Justin flicked on the fluorescent lights, which sputtered to life. As their pale pink glow allowed Yuan a first glimpse, what he saw took his breath away. The tech staggered forward as though drunk or in shock.
Fuh Teng wheeled and stared at Justin through slitted eyes. “You don’t mean to use this, do you?”
Justin nodded, a vulpine grin tightening his lips. “I want you and Yuan to go over it. No modifications. Just check all the circuits and make sure it’s fully operational for tonight.”
Yuan turned. “What about the insignia?”
Justin smiled. “I can think of no better. Let it stand.”
Justin squinted against the glare of the searing studio lights. A buxom blonde leaned over him, gracing him with an intimate view of her ample assets while she patted makeup onto his face. “There, Mr. Xiang,” she cooed. “That’ll make you look as calm and fearless as I know you are.”
God, she’s wearing enough perfume to be a Class 3 atrocity under the Ares Conventions. Justin forced himself to smile at her. “Perhaps I should just find a power connection for my cooling vest.”
She stared cow-eyed at him for a second, then laughed shrilly. “Oh, yeah, the lights are hot, aren’t they?” She slowly straightened up. “Well, if you need anything, just let me know.” She tucked a slip of paper down the front of his cooling vest. “Any time.”
Justin nodded as she walked away, then glanced over at Philip Capet. He looks suitably nervous. Good. Justin shook his head slowly.
Capet’s head came up. “What are you looking at, Xiang?”
“A man who is about to die.”
Capet parried the attack with a laugh. “I don’t see any mirrors, Xiang.”
Justin smiled easily. “I hope you open a radio channel to me during the fight. I want to know what you see when your life flashes before your eyes. I want to hear you whi
mper.”
Capet shot to his feet, but the arrival of the program’s host forestalled any battle. The heavyset man looked like a bumblebee in his yellow blazer and black pants. “Whoa, boys, we don’t want a fight before the cameras start running.” He rested his hands on Capet’s shoulders and slowly pressed the champion down into his seat.
The host seated himself between the two combatants, clipped a microphone to his lapel, and smiled directly into the holovision camera as the red light above its muzzle flashed to life. “Welcome, sports fans, to Pregame Palaver, the program that brings you the combatants before the battle. I’m your host, Kevin Johnson, and we have quite a show for you tonight.”
The host turned toward Philip Capet. “On my left is Philip Capet, the current reigning champion in the Open Class of warfare here on Solaris. You’ve all seen him fight many times before. He’s got a double-dozen kills to his credit in the arenas, and even more in his military career. Glad to have you here, Philip.”
“My pleasure, Kevin.”
Johnson turned toward Justin. “And here we have Justin Xiang. He’s a newcomer, but his rise has been impressive, to say the least. He’s fought seven times and killed every opponent he’s faced. Those of you keeping track know that those have all been kills of warriors from the Federated Suns. None have escaped him or his Centurion, Yen-Lo-Wang. Welcome aboard, Justin.”
“Zao, Kevin. I am honored.”
Kevin smiled again at the camera. “We’ll continue with these two warriors in a minute, but first a word from your LCAF recruiter.”
The red light on the camera faded, and Johnson’s smile went with it. “OK, you two. Let’s make this entertaining. Got it?” He glanced down at his clipboard. “When we come back, we do a taped piece on Capet’s background, and then one on you, Justin. After a brief piece about the Kurita arena, I’ll go into the live interview. Watch the language.”
Warrior: En Garde (The Warrior Trilogy, Book One): BattleTech Legends, #57 Page 34
