Candace turned toward Justin. "Indeed, what if the presence of that person would mean you'd have your entire crisis team with you?"
Maximilian Liao's face glowed with the light of divine revelation. "Ha ha! A better gift I could not imagine giving the Prince of the Federated Suns." Liao nodded and smiled ecstatically at Justin. "Imagine finding the man you exiled turn up as a guest at your wedding. Oh, yes, this is perfection."
Justin raised his artificial hand, "Celestial Wisdom, do you think it in your interest to have the crisis team with you when we will be cut off from our staff?"
Liao stared incredulously at Justin, then seemed to consider further. "You do have a point." The Chancellor turned to Chandra Ling. "You will coordinate the crisis team during the wedding and use ComStar to keep them informed of all important matters."
"As you wish, Chancellor." Chandra Ling glanced at Justin and some of her anxiety seemed to drain away.
Liao smiled openly. "This is excellent. Tsen Shang will accompany Romano, and Justin Xiang will escort you, Candace." Liao's eyes narrowed for a second, then flashed with an idea. "We can even have your aide, Molatov . . ."
Justin smiled. "Malenkov, Highness. Alexi Malenkov."
The Chancellor nodded sternly. "Yes, Malenkov. We'll attach him as an aide to Colonel Pavel Ridzik to keep an eye on him during the wedding festivities."
Justin looked around at the assembled group, wondering what each of them might be thinking. Having Alexi with us will be good, but putting him there to spy on Ridzik? If Liao doesn't think he can trust the commander of his armies, who does he trust? Justin licked his lips. And when will he stop trusting me?
The Chancellor smiled with chilling intensity. "Yes, this should be special." He shooed everyone from the room. "Leave me. I wish to consider all the ramifications of this plan. I believe I may even be able to use it to advance the primacy of our House over all the Successor States!"
Justin and Candace retreated to the gardens. Arm in arm, they walked through the darkened path, yet Justin felt an uneasiness coming between them. Gravel crunched beneath their feet and the cold glow of a blue moon was barely enough to light their way. The night was pleasant, though, with a gentle breeze that carried the aromatic scent of incense burning at the shrine.
When they reached the shrine area, Candace disengaged her arm from Justin's and slipped out of her robe. Wearing a form-fitting gray bodysuit, she stood for a moment with hands clasped overhead, then took a deep breath and began a slow series of ancient postures designed to stretch and warm up every muscle in the body.
Wrapped in darkness, Justin watched her. He envied the azure moonlight as it caressed her body and felt desire smoldering within. Physically, she's beautiful, but I know my attraction to her is based on more than that. He leaned against one of the trees planted here for its symbolism of strength combined with flexibility, and crossed his arms as he watched. I can't deny that we’ve become close or that I might even love her, but what is it deep inside that keeps telling me it's wrong ?
Candace's head slowly came up. She seemed to sense his mood. "Justin, what's wrong?"
Justin ground his teeth. "I don't like being used."
"What?" She took a half-step closer to him, then stopped as he stiffened. "I don't know what you mean."
Her confusion sounds genuine ... He swallowed hard and uncrossed his arms. "You used me like a scalpel on your sister. You took her plan and made it go one better. Sure, you point out that having me there will anger Hanse Davion." Justin angrily stabbed a finger at her. "What if I don't want to see Hanse Davion!"
Candace recoiled from the fury in his voice. "I don't understand. This would be your chance to beard the lion in his own den."
Justin turned away from her. "The idea of having to come face to face again with the man who humiliated me is not a pleasant one." He stared at the mountains in the blue-lit distance. "It's true that my victories on Solaris might have stung him, but ultimately, he is neither cowed nor repentant." Justin looked back at Candace. "I will appear at his wedding as hired help, a spy sent to ferret out information. You'll use me like a neural whip to provoke a reaction from him." He shook his head vehemently. "I don't like being considered a useful object."
Candace stood looking at him for a moment, hands on hips. "So that's the reason you think I suggested you as my escort, is it?"
Justin turned to face her. "That's all I can see, Candace. Unless you can't bear the thought of being without your exercise partner?"
Justin saw the rage ripple through her, but she seemed to catch and control it. With head lowered somewhat repentantly, she began to speak. "I apologize for using you to sting my sister." She chewed her lower lip as though carefully considering her next words. "I did not realize how much seeing Hanse Davion might hurt you, though I should have." Lifting her head, she seemed to seek out his face in the shadows. "But it was the only way I could think of to convince my father you had to accompany me."
Justin stared at her. "And what was so important about that?"
Candace reached out to him. "Because I want you there."
Justin stepped toward her, took her hand and drew her to him. "The palace is full of servants . . ."
Candace slipped her arms around his neck and gently pressed her forehead to his. "That is true, Justin Xiang, but I do not want a servant with me, or my exercise partner with me. I want you there, with me." She brushed her lips lightly against his. "I want you there as my escort and my consort, and the opinion of anyone else in the Successor States be damned!"
20
Arc-Royal
District of Donegal, Lyran Commonwealth
3 March 3028
Breezes fragrant with the scent of pine hissed into the Drop-Ship Manannan MacLir as Daniel Allard cracked open the hatch. He breathed in deeply, then smiled at Morgan Kell. "Definitely smells like home, Colonel."
The harsh glare of arclights splashed through the personnel bay as the hatch slid upward into the DropShip's hull. The light washed up Morgan's form, from his black boots and trousers to his red dress jacket. It flashed silver from the Tamar Tigers medallion, then caught the gray streaks in his black hair and beard.
Dan squinted at the light. Silhouetted against the glare, he saw the Kell Hound mercenaries, row upon row of them, waiting in the night to greet Morgan Kell. Wait a minute! he thought, shooting a glance at Morgan. "Colonel, something's wrong. There are far too many people out there."
Kell, a smile growing on his face as he looked out the hatchway, shook his head. "Nothing is wrong, Captain Allard. We're home, and so is the entire Kell Hound Regiment."
Regiment! Dan's heart pounded against his ribs. Those messages he sent out from Zaniah. The ones he had given to Brother Giles when he arrived at St. Marinus House. . . So, Morgan had planned this all along.
Morgan stepped forward and walked down the ramp. No one moved as he strode across the ferrocrete toward the small assembly of officers standing on a low dais near the Mac's nose. Morgan's footsteps echoed like gunshots in the silence.
Halfway to the dais, Morgan stopped and turned back toward Dan. With a gentle nod, he indicated that Dan should join him. Dan shook off his shocked lethargy, and solemnly marched to Morgan's side. When they reached the dais, Morgan stopped short to allow Dan to precede him onto the platform and to take his place with the other officers.
Dan slipped into the front line between Major Salome Ward and Sergeant Cat Wilson. Cat, a tall black man, acknowledged Dan with a hint of a nod. The runway lights glinted from Cat's shaven head, but his ebon eyes were inscrutable as ever.
Dan glanced over at Salome. Most of her pretty face was hidden by long, red hair, but he could see from the uncharacteristic stiffness in her posture that she was tense and upset, but trying to maintain her composure and military bearing. Dan could imagine what she must be feeling. Morgan and the Defection. He left without saying anything to her and now he returns.
Morgan mounted the stairs, and Salome stepped fr
om the line as he reached the top of the dais. She snapped to attention and saluted sharply. Morgan returned the salute and Salome's arm fell to her side. "Colonel, the command is yours."
He smiled at her with an expression that showed both respect and gratitude. "Thank you, Major." As Salome dropped back into line, the officers saluted as a unit. Morgan's smile grew broader as he crisply returned their salute.
Morgan turned to face the mercenaries assembled before him. "At ease and thank you." The arc-lights sparked blue against his hair as he stood looking around at his troops with hands clutched at the small of his back. His bass voice struggled not to break with the emotion that threatened to overwhelm Morgan at any moment. "It's been a long time, Kell Hounds. Too long a time. Thank you for your faith."
Morgan glanced back at Salome. "When I left the Kell Hounds twelve years ago, I told no one—including, to my very deep regret, my brother—why dissolution of the Kell Hounds was necessary. In truth, I did not fully comprehend the reasons myself. I only knew that it had to be done." Morgan paused to collect himself, and to again survey the many faces turned toward him. "This belief I shared with many of you when I asked you to leave the Kell Hounds."
Kell's voice echoed from the 'Mech hangars surrounding the Kell Hounds. "Those I left behind—those I so callously abandoned—never knew that I had asked each of you to be prepared to return at some future time. I asked you to seek out other MechWarriors who had the fire and spirit of the original Kell Hounds. I asked some officers to form their own 'Mech companies, and still others I asked to join academies to instruct warriors and support personnel we could use later.
"I know how difficult it must have been all these years. I myself spent whole months disbelieving and denying all that happened on Mallory's World. There were also many times when I felt certain that I would never be able to reassemble the Kell Hounds." Almost strangled by emotion, Morgan's voice dropped to a deep whisper. "There were times when I believed you would not come if I called."
Morgan paused for a moment, then a smile spread over his face. "I'm very happy you had more faith in me than I had in you." He nodded in solemn salute to the men and women who had returned. "Perhaps some of you believe I have summoned you here to avenge my brother's death. But from the account Captain Allard has given me, I believe that to seek vengeance for Patrick would only cheapen the sacrifice he made. He fought to preserve a life and gladly sacrificed his own in doing so ..."
Morgan's voice trailed off as he knotted his fists and raised them to his shoulders. Screwing his eyes shut against tears, Morgan raised his face toward the black sky. Anger rippled through his body, then vanished as he forced his hands open. Slowly, calmly, he lowered them and again addressed the regiment.
"I could pretend to be a prophet and predict a coming conflict in which we will figure prominently, but that would be a sham. It's true that the wedding of Melissa Steiner to Prince Hanse Davion is bound to stir up tension and ignite dozens of battles, but we will not be a part of that. We have our own war to wage. It began on Mallory's World over fifteen years ago. An unspoken truce existed while Yorinaga Kurita and I both renounced what we had become, but that truce is ended now. As soon as we are ready, the conflict begins anew."
Morgan smiled and Dan saw a spark of happiness in the Colonel's dark eyes. "Over the next two weeks, I will speak with each of you personally—to welcome those who have not been with us before, and to thank those who have returned. We will train together and become the best mercenary regiment anywhere in the Successor States.
"Again, thank you. Dismissed."
At his order, the assembled mercenaries broke ranks but did not disperse. A rumble of applause started in the back ranks, then rose in waves to become a thundering ovation. Cheers and whistles and shouts of joy reverberated off the 'Mech hangars.
Morgan bowed his head and silent laughter shuddered through his frame. He turned to say something to Dan, but the din smothered his words. Even so, Dan understood what Morgan had mouthed.
Dan smiled and nodded. That's right, Colonel. It's great to be home.
21
Arc-Royal
District of Donegal, Lyran Commonwealth
3 March 3028
Cat Wilson pressed a mug of warm stout into Dan's hand the second he entered the recreation room. "Thanks much, Cat." Dan downed two mouthfuls of the thick, dark beer, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ah, thank God for this stuff. The swill they brew on Tharkad is allegedly beer, but you couldn't convince any jury of it."
Cat nodded. "I hear that."
Dan shook his head and looked at the other officers filling the room. "God, Cat! Everyone's here." Dan pointed his mug toward a balding, heavy-set man. "Isn't that Conn O'Bannon?"
Cat smiled. "He went away a Captain and returns a Major. He brought two medium lances with him from the 21st Centauri Lancers." Cat nodded his head toward a striking blond amazon. "Remember Peggy Fitzmartin? She's in from a stint with the Blackhearts. She brought her lance with her." Cat also indicated a slightly graying MechWarrior with only one eye. "That's Walter de Mesnil. He left your brother's old unit to rejoin us."
Dan shook his head. "So many people . . .I'd nearly forgotten how big the Kell Hounds Regiment once was."
Cat sipped his own beer, then nodded slowly. "A lot of old faces, and a lot of new ones, too."
A small figure emerged from the crowd, carefully clutching a tumbler of beer in his small hands. Though physically a dwarf, the man's face was handsome, with a warm smile and an irrepressible fire in his eyes that showed no self-pity. His brown eyes peered up through a fringe of unruly black hair. "Which am I, Cat? New or old."
Cat winked at him. "Both, Clovis. Both."
Dan reached down and touched his mug to Clovis's glass. "I'd not expected to see you here." Then he noticed the Kell Hound patch on the dwarf's flight jacket. "Have you joined Fitzpatrick's flyers?"
Clovis shook his head. "Major Ward allowed the refugees from Styx use of the DropShip Lugh to transport themselves to Lyons in the Isle of Skye. The Archon gave us land for a settlement there. In return, my mother offered to make the Bifrost available to the Kell Hounds so you'll have two JumpShips."
Cat smiled slyly. "And part of the deal was for us to take Clovis off her hands until she could finish the drop at Lyons."
"Harumph," Clovis grumbled. "Actually, Major Ward got word that the Eire 'Mech Company here on Arc-Royal was having difficulty with some programming, so I was drafted." Clovis looked up at Cat. "He's just angry because I beat him at cards."
Dan laughed aloud and stared at Cat. "Say it ain't so . . ."
Cat scowled at Clovis, then smiled. "Don't make anything big out of this, Dan, because I can still play better than you."
"Point well taken," Dan said, but he was looking around the room, frowning slightly. "Where's Lieutenant Brand? I would have thought at least one person from my lance would show up to greet me."
Dan noticed an exchange of glances between Cat and Clovis. What the hell have they got up their sleeve?
Clovis smiled innocently. "I don't know. He's probably around somewhere." Cat nodded in silent agreement.
Dan loosened his shirt collar, sighing, "Now there's two of you to give me trouble."
Spontaneous applause erupted as Morgan Kell walked into the room. Dan set his mug down on a nearby table and joined in, then noticed Salome Ward leaning back against the doorway. Dan turned to Cat and pointed to his beer. "Watch this, will you? I'll be back." Cat nodded, and Dan cut through the throng to Salome's side.
"I'm going to get some air. You want to join me?" Dan smiled hopefully and pointed back out toward the now darkened ferrocrete strip.
Salome hesitated, then nodded and preceded him from the building. As Dan closed the outside door behind them, it abruptly cut off the voices and other Human sounds of the gathering. The night sounds of chirping sichakae and rustling long grasses quickly filled the void.
Dan reached out and rested his hands on
Salome's shoulders. "Are you O.K., Salome?"
She drew in a deep breath, then nodded. "Yeah. I'll live. I just didn't expect all these conflicting feelings." She shrugged heavily. "Part of me wants to kill him for what he did, and another part of me still loves him." She looked over at Dan. "Does that make any sense?"
"Yeah. Sure." Dan nodded slowly. "I know part of what you're feeling: betrayal and abandonment." He paused to drink in some of the night's peace. "When I saw Morgan on Zaniah, I blasted him pretty hard. Everything I'd saved up for eleven years just came pouring out..."
Salome nodded. "I know. He told me." She looked up into Dan's blue eyes. "Morgan said you told him how much he hurt Patrick, you, and me."
As she turned away, Dan's hands slipped from her shoulders. Salome hugged her arms around herself. "He's so changed, Dan. All that wildness is gone, but the passion that drove him is still there. I can feel it. I so desperately want that part of him for myself, the way it was before, but part of me refuses to trust him. I never want to be hurt that bad again."
Dan chewed his lower lip, then stared up at Arc-Royal's twin full moons as he chose his words. "There's something going on between Morgan and Yorinaga Kurita. I don't know what it is, but I do know it has nothing to do with Patrick's death. Morgan knew, well before I told him anything, that Yorinaga Kurita had come out of exile. At the same time my father's debriefers were asking us about Styx and refusing to believe Yorinaga was back, Morgan knew Kurita had returned."
"It seems to be a conflict within him, though," Salome said. "He wants very much to finish what's between them, but he's also afraid of it. I feel his pain, Dan, and it hurts me that I can't open up enough to help him handle it."
Dan kicked at a stone on the ferrocrete. "The one thing I've gotten from Morgan in all the time I've been traveling with him is that he never wanted to hurt any of us. He told me he left us behind—you and Patrick and me—without sharing his fears because we would have headed out after Yorinaga Kurita and tried to kill him." Dan smiled sheepishly. "I say 'tried' because Morgan is convinced we would have died in any such fight." He looked down as sadness seeped into his voice. "Patrick did, and sacrificing my Valkyrie didn't kill Yorinaga."
Warrior: riposte Page 15
