Warrior: riposte

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Hanse leaned back and steepled his fingers. We could have worked together, Michael. You would have been where Quintus Allard is now if you'd not chosen to work for yourself instead of the Federated Suns. You have never understood that your father made the family famous through his service to the Federation. "It is a pity that Michael has strayed so far from the fold."

  Ardan shook his head. "Whatever happens, he'll have brought it on himself. He wants to play both ends against the middle, and it just won't work."

  Hanse nodded his agreement. He glanced down at his desk and picked up a piece of paper. "By the way, Quintus, I want you to congratulate Sarah Hebert for her work on those documentary features that have been showing on the networks. According to our polls, acceptance of the alliance and the people's positive impressions of Melissa are up sharply."

  The Minister smiled and nodded. "I will tell her. She's asked if she can do a docu-drama about the Kell Hound rescue of the Silver Eagle. She only knows the public story about the Kell Hounds going in to pull a Lyran official out of Kurita hands. I thought that perhaps she could work on the project, and if it is written correctly, we could give her the real facts toward the end of the project. She could shoot some new scenes with an actress who looks like Melissa and the program could be broadcast soon after your wedding."

  Hanse frowned. "I like your idea, Quintus, and I think it would be a fine idea for her to produce a program about the rescue. The difficulty I have with shifting the focus late in the project is that it won't focus the story on the Kell Hounds. I'd rather have a vid on that incident be full of action and with emphasis on duty, loyalty, and patriotism than let it turn into some sort of romance capitalizing on my new wife's image." The Fox smiled. "Let her do the first one with the focus on Patrick Kell and his sacrifice. Later, we'll give her the facts and let her do 'the Real Story.' "

  "As you wish, my Prince."

  I am indeed fortunate to have you with me, Quintus. And you. too, Ardan. "One more thing, gentlemen. Tomorrow we release the news of my betrothal to the people, but a few of the details are still incomplete." Hanse turned toward Ardan Sortek. "If you have nothing else to do on the 20th of August next year, Ardan, would you consider being my best man?"

  Ardan's bottle stopped halfway to his mouth. "I, ah, Hanse, you honor me."

  The Prince chuckled at his friend's surprise. "Dan, we've known each other for a long time, and a closer friend in these worlds I do not have. You alone stood with me when Maximilian Liao managed to substitute a double for me. If not for you, I wouldn't even be here, and the whole of the Federated Suns would be in ruins. How could I choose another man to stand with me?"

  Ardan sighed heavily. "All that praise just for being your friend. Just to be asked means a great deal, Hanse. I don't know how to thank you enough."

  "It's simple, Ardan. Just say yes."

  Hanse's broad grin began to shrink as Ardan hesitated. "I wish it were that simple, Hanse. Were you just my friend asking me to stand with you, I would accept without question." Ardan met Hanse's ice-blue eyes. "Please understand, Hanse. I dearly love Melissa, and I know there will be nothing but happiness for the two of you. I do, honestly, wish you all the best. . ."

  The Prince lowered his eyes. "But you will not stand beside me. . ."

  Glumly, Ardan shook his head. "I cannot, Hanse, because you're more than my friend." Ardan pounded his fist on the bar. "The one time you act without considering the political angles— as I wish you could act all the time—is the one time you should consider the politics. And just my luck, too." Ardan leaned heavily forward on the bar. "For the sake of all you hold dear, I have to refuse in favor of another."

  Hanse brought his head back up slowly. What have you in mind, my apolitical friend? "Give, Ardan. What sort of plot is that festering in your brain?"

  Ardan straightened up. "No plot, Hanse. Just clearer thinking than you've allowed yourself on this subject. I would suggest that as your best man, you employ Morgan Hasek-Davion."

  Hanse blinked twice. "Morgan?" The Prince frowned and thought. Choosing Morgan would send a signal to the people of the Capellan March that I have not forgotten them, but what would it say to Michael? The Prince turned toward Quintus Allard. "Opinion?"

  Quintus chewed on his lower lip for a moment. "Yes," he said thoughtfully. "That choice would be appropriate in a number of ways. Morgan is well-known and popular both in the Capellan March and throughout the rest of the Suns. In essence, because he is your 'heir,' single, and a MechWarrior with a good reputation, he plays well as a subject for the media. Morgan is most often linked with holovid stars in the trash magazines, but his performance with the Heavy Guards has won him praise in military circles."

  Ardan shot Quintus a wink. "Not only that, but remember when he hosted the Prince's Humanitarian Awards and Charity Ball last June while you were off on Northwind? I saw a vid of that whole thing later and he came off as witty, charming, and likeable."

  Hanse shook his head and held up his hands. "I understand how well people like him. I like him. I brought him to New Avalon as a hostage against his father, and everyone knew it. But Morgan seemed to forget why he'd been called from New Syrtis. In just a few months, he 'owned' my people and this world." Why can't you two see what is my real concern about him? "Dammit, gentlemen, he's a Hasek!"

  "Hanse, he's a Davion!" Shaking his head, Ardan stepped from behind the bar and positioned himself in front of the Prince. "I've talked to him here, in court, at parties, in the barracks, and during operations for Galahad. He's a Davion, through and through. His father may despise you, but Morgan sees himself as a Davion. His first duty is to your House, and you'll never know how thrilled he was to be called to New Avalon." Ardan stared at his friend. "If he's disloyal, I can't see it."

  Hanse frowned impatiently. "Reading disloyalty is not your job, Ardan. Quintus, what say you?"

  Quintus smoothed the white hair at the nape of his neck. "Everything I have on Morgan echoes what Ardan says."

  "Yes, but how certain are you of the information?"

  Quintus looked puzzled. "Sire?"

  Hanse held up his hands. "Take it for granted, gentlemen, that I believe what you have to say about Morgan. That said, let us look at this from a worst-case scenario. Maximilian Liao and Takashi Kurita ascended to their throne by engineering coups that 'eliminated' their own fathers. With the marriage threatening to move Morgan out of the succession, he would be motivated to strike, were he so inclined. And there will be ample opportunities for him to do so, especially if he is my best man. I can't cast him in that role and then have you, Quintus, making security arrangements without letting him know about them. That would put the lie to any good will we might get out of this choice."

  Ardan snorted derisively. "Now you're getting too political, Hanse. What do you want to do, slip a spy in on Morgan?"

  Light glinted in the Prince's eyes. "Better that than be slain at the altar." He looked over at Quintus. "The agent we used to keep tabs on your son Justin on Solaris VII... the woman whose jaw he broke. What was her name?"

  "Lady Kym Sorenson."

  Hanse looked away, his eyes focusing distantly. "She has recovered from her injuries and is prepared to work again?"

  The Prince's spymaster nodded. "She's even here on New Avalon, sire. Enrolled as a student at the New Avalon Institute of Science to monitor suspected ComStar ROM agent activity."

  "Shift her primary focus away from that. Keep her at the NAIS. That's good cover, but I have a more important mission for her." The Prince glanced at an appointment calendar on his desk. "I'll have a party to celebrate my betrothal a week from Friday. Morgan will be there, of course. By then, I expect him to be escorting Lady Kym. I want her to determine the depth of his loyalty."

  "As you will, my Prince."

  Hanse sat back and smiled to himself. Yes. Morgan is an excellent choice. If his loyalty does prove true, his appointment will reap other fruit as well. It will tell Michael Hasek-Davion that no matter h
ow strong he believes himself and House Hasek, I have his son. And in Morgan, I have House Hasek itself.

  5

  Zaniah III

  Isle of Skye, Lyran Commonwealth

  22 October 3027

  Captain Daniel Allard stared out the aircar's window as the reddish-yellow wasteland flashed below and beside at dizzying speeds. The aircar's shadow raced ahead of the craft, flittering like a black spectre over the uneven desert landscape. The driver, a Brother from the monastery, clearly enjoyed racing the vehicle over the kilometers of trackless canyons and long-dead lava flows that separated St. Marinus House from the rest of Zaniah III.

  How will I ever tell Morgan that his brother is dead? Dan swallowed hard against the lump rising in his throat. Patrick used to tell me that the way to tell next of kin should be whatever way I'd want to hear about the death of my own kin. Watching the wild landscape rush past, Dan thought about the sad irony that now he'd be using the dead Patrick's advice to announce the man's own passing.

  Brother Keith banked the aircar around a massive red sandstone column and down into a valley. "Not too much longer, Captain Allard."

  Dan managed a weak smile. "Thanks." He wiped his brow against his forearm. "Hot here, isn't it?"

  The cleric nodded. "And this is the cooler season. Morgan says that were the desert a BattleMech cockpit, the computers would constantly be threatening to shut down and most pilots would have fainted from the heat."

  Dan nodded, then shot a cautious glance at Brother Keith. "How is he?"

  "Morgan Kell?"

  "Yes."

  Brother Keith inhaled slowly, then frowned. "I've only been here for the last five years, so I've only known him that long. He's been here ... what... eleven years?"

  Dan nodded. "Since 3016."

  "Right." Brother Keith shrugged. "A lot of what I know is from what others have told me—which isn't that much, because people here aren't much given to gossip. I've been told, though, that living here has done wonders for him. He's come to grips with most of the demons haunting his soul, though he maintains that some things still prevent him from formally entering the order." Brother Keith smiled. "Pity. He's a good man."

  Yeah. I can recall a time when I would have made the same comment about Morgan. Dan swallowed and remembered the day that had been the proudest of his life till then. Despite the layers of conflicting emotions around it, the memory raised a smile. When Morgan showed me the letter from Hanse Davion assigning me to the Kell Hounds for my six years with the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns, hell, that was better than graduating from the New Avalon Military Academy at 18. Not only had Dan managed to enter and exit that academy younger than anyone else in its history, but one of the hottest mercenary units in the Successor States had asked for him. He had felt higher than the universe that night, but the fall was as swift and surprising as the rise.

  Brother Keith glanced over at the slender, blue-eyed man who was his passenger. "You were there, weren't you? You were on Mallory's world when it happened to him . . ."

  Dan stiffened. "You mean his last battle? The one with Yorinaga Kurita?" He nodded slowly. "If that's the fight you're talking about, yes, I was there. If you mean the 3013 campaign when Yorinaga killed Prince Ian Davion, no, I wasn't there. I'd not joined the Kell Hounds at that point."

  Brother Keith slid the aircar down a small slope and into a broad arroyo. Sand and dust billowed up around the vehicle, but the cleric managed to keep ahead of the cloud. "Yes, I meant the 3016 battle. What really happened to Morgan?"

  Dan hesitated and the seconds-long silence felt heavy and awkward. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry," Brother Keith said apologetically. "It's just that Morgan always seems so normal and friendly and open until the conversation touches on his past. I don't mean to suggest that anyone is trying to dig into his background ... Anyway, the history of the Kell Hounds is an open book. Open, except for what happened in that battle on Mallory's World."

  Dan forced a grin but there was no smile in his eyes. "No offense taken, Brother Keith. As they say in MechWarrior circles, 'No autopsy, no foul.' What happened in that battle has never been a closed or hidden story." Dan's reserve began to thaw as dread drained from his insides. "You just haven't spoken to anyone who knows about it."

  Brother Keith swallowed and steered the aircar around a huge Hydra cactus. "I must confess, Captain Allard, that before I realized my vocation, I dreamed of leaving the regular army and joining a mercenary company. I read all I could about contemporary merc MechWarriors. I devoured Jay Mitchell's book about the battles for Mallory's World. But his account of the final battle, in Hell's Anvil, seemed so unreal."

  Dan sighed heavily. "Mitchell fictionalized much of the last third of the book. Granted that the Kell Hounds weren't talking much at the time that Mitchell was finishing up the book, and the Draconis Combine had scattered the men in command of the Second Sword of Light. That guy Mitchell ended up drawing on unreliable sources to create what he thought was the only possible explanation for how a single mercenary battalion could have driven an elite Draconis Regiment from the field."

  Brother Keith nodded. "I heard and read about how good the Kell Hounds were, but I couldn't see how your First 'Mech battalion could hold off Yorinaga's regiment. It couldn't be done, no matter how much time you'd had to prepare or how good your defenses were."

  Dan nodded. Those were my thoughts exactly as I watched their DropShips burning into the atmosphere above us. We'd already heard how elements of the 36th Dieron Regulars had pinned down our 2nd Mech Battalion far to the north. We knew there would be no reinforcements coming to save us.

  "Mitchell was right when he suggested our defenses were good. We had created a situation where the Kurita 'Mechs had to come in at us in places where we had overlapping fields of fire. If you look at our defensive positions and the reported strength of the Kell Hound First 'Mech Battalion back in those days, and compare them with our reported strength after the battle, well, it looks like our defenses paid off. The big problem with that approach—the approach that Mitchell used—was that our 'Mechs were in the same shape before the battle as after it. We'd not lost any 'Mechs in the earlier battles, which is a credit to our Techs, but we weren't all up to full strength, either."

  The aircar left the arroyo and sped across flat desert expanses. Brother Keith pointed toward a red mesa rising tall above the shimmering heat of the desert. "That's St. Marinus." He glanced over at Dan. "So, Captain Allard, what did happen?"

  Dan shrugged heavily and winced as the slight pain from a recent collarbone break lanced down from his left shoulder. I'll tell you the part you can understand. "Colonel Kell—Morgan— marched his Archer down out of our defenses. He opened a channel to the Draconis commander, Yorinaga Kurita. In Japanese, after Kurita fashion, Morgan slowly gave an accounting of his lineage and the Kells' proud history as MechWarriors. It's an old tradition among samurai, and one still respected within the Draconis Combine. It honors the combatants."

  Dan stared straight ahead while the landscape blurred past. "Yorinaga Kurita walked his Warhammer out in front of the Second Sword of Light regiment. In turn, he gave an accounting of his lineage in English. Once he'd finished, the two 'Mechs closed."

  Brother Keith frowned. "Closed? The Archer is armed with long-range missiles as its main weaponry. Why would Morgan close with a Warhammer?"

  Dan shook his head. "I don't know. The Warhammer, with its particle projection cannons, short-range missiles, medium and small lasers, is built for close combat. Morgan came in at Yorinaga, and never used his LRMs. He used the medium lasers in his Mech's arms and scored hit after hit on the Warhammer. Yorinaga staggered the use of the two PPCs so that Morgan couldn't rush him while the Warhammer ran hot. He also used his SRMs and lasers to keep Morgan at bay."

  Dan's voice dropped to a deeper bass rumble. "Morgan hit the Warhammer's right PPC twice and it appeared he'd knocked it out. Then he moved in quickly, perhaps intending to use his Archer's hands against t
he Warhammer or to get inside the PPCs optimum range. That's when Yorinaga brought the right PPC up and its charging coils came to life.

  "That bolt of blue lightning sheared straight through the Archer's right shoulder." Dan stopped and his eyes focused distantly. When I saw that limb drop to the ground and Morgan's Archer stumble to its knees, I knew he was done for. I saw the targeting image of his 'Mech fade from my scanner screens, but I never questioned how it was possible for that to happen. I guess because I knew it was some kind of omen.

  "Yorinaga moved closer and raised both PPCs. He pointed them straight at Morgan's Archer as it knelt there helplessly. Somehow, though, the twin bolts flashed around the Archer and ripped jagged furrows through the ground beyond it. Morgan answered by triggering two flights of LRMs."

  The cleric frowned. "But he was far too close for them to be effective, wasn't he?"

  Dan nodded. "The flight was too short for the missiles to arm themselves, but that didn't matter. They battered the Warhammer, crushing its armor and bathing the 'Mech in fire as propellant exploded. Missiles spun the Warhammer, but somehow Yorinaga kept the 'Mech on its feet. Morgan's desperate tactic had failed to destroy his enemy."

  Dan tugged at the aircar's shoulderstrap and leaned forward. "Yorinaga threw everything at Morgan's Archer, but it didn't matter. SRMs flew off wildly and exploded in random patterns across the landscape. Lasers and PPCs passed around or wide of the Archer as though Yorinaga had been blinded by the attack. His Warhammer was definitely operational, but he allowed the Archer to struggle to its feet."

  Dan licked dry lips, remembering how the Archer had simply vanished from all their screens. Every ghost story he'd ever heard about 'Mechs piloted by men who had already died in the battle filled his mind. Seeing the Archer stand upright, he had believed that Morgan was dead and it was his ghost that now drove the Archer. How wrong was I?

  "Morgan levered the Archer up off the ground with its good arm, then just stood there as Yorinaga's assault stormed around him. Morgan didn't return fire. He closed the LRM launch pods and opened the Archer's empty left hand. Then, in a move both subtle and elegant, he finished off Yorinaga."