Target of Opportunity

by Blaine Lee Pardoe

  “You won the trial?” she asked.

  “Aff. I won. But I killed someone that I cared for a great deal. Jackel and I were raised together as sibkin. We had fought many times at each other’s side. He had saved my life. As a child, I had saved his. Our paths were woven together like the strong strands that make up a rope.” There was a longing in his eyes, as if he were hoping that speaking of his former friend would somehow summon him to the fire.

  A darkness hooded his expression. “My eagerness to fight took his life. We fought a Bloodname trial that day.” He glared at her for a moment. “I had intended my shot to disable the arm of his Summoner, but it did not. He moved at the last possible moment and spoiled my aim. I was a good fighter, but not good enough that day to adjust my shot, not so quickly. The Galaxy commander awarded the Bloodname to me, but I refused to accept it.” His voice became deep, rumbling like the threat of thunder.

  “I have never heard of a Clan warrior refusing a Bloodname,” Alexi said with wonder in her voice.

  “As I said, our customs and traditions are different. Few have refused a Bloodname, but it is allowed. Galaxy Commander Kev Rosse told me the Clan would reserve the Bloodname for me. To possess such a name is a great honor, and it is often won at a high price. I will know when I have performed a deed that redeems my blemish sufficiently to allow me to claim the Bloodname. Our leader believes that there will be a time when I find redemption in my heart for what had happened. For now I remain Cox—nothing more, nothing less.” He returned his gaze to the fire and the silence returned.

  Alexi could tell there was more to this Spirit Cat than met the eye, and she was determined to tread carefully with him. “The fire is nice,” she said, shifting her position slightly. As the sun set, a cool breeze seemed to rustle through the valley. “Relaxing.”

  “Our fire helps us to honor those who died here in the Jihad,” Cox replied. He picked up a stick resting on the edge of the stone circle and tossed it toward the center of the fire, sending two or three glowing embers upward into the early evening air.

  “I was not aware that any members of your Clan fought on this world.”

  Cox looked at her solemnly. “They did not. That does not mean we should not honor those who did die here at the hands of a common foe. Spirit Cats often come to these places, the burial grounds of the innocents, the battlefields of the honored dead. We believe such places give us unique insight into the matters of the here-and-now. For example, you are wondering why we have come to Wyatt, quiaff?” Clansmen were fond of rhetorical questions.

  “Aff,” she replied.

  “What would you say, Knight Alexi, if I told you that I did not know for sure myself?” The Star captain gave her a coy grin.

  “Star Captain, I know a little about the Spirit Cats. They do not travel to a place for no reason at all.”

  Cox surprised her by laughing. “That is one thing about my people,” he agreed. “We do not do anything in life without a purpose, without a reason.”

  “Then I will ask,” she said carefully, “why have the Spirit Cats come to Wyatt?”

  The Star captain turned from her to watch the flickering flames of the fire and said nothing for a moment. “We always have regarded the Knights of the Sphere as honorable warriors, a trait we share with you. Today, you have supported that belief by showing respect for our traditions. Even so, I cannot simply tell you why we have traveled to this planet.”

  “Because I am not of your people.”

  He nodded, still staring into the flames. “You are not Spirit Cat. You would have no context for my words.”

  “Star Captain Cox,” she replied courteously. “You must know that by landing on Wyatt, you have created a problem that we must share. Your Clan is violating the sovereignty of this world, and I and others like me have sworn to protect The Republic from such actions. I have no desire to fight you without first understanding why I must fight you. I hope you can understand this.”

  “Knight Alexi, the reactivation of the Wyatt hyperpulse generator reached beyond ComStar’s network. It has stirred our leader, Kev Rosse. I myself was awakened on the fifth of May with a vision of a star burning bright in the hands of a Lightbringer.”

  Visions were an important aspect of the life of every Spirit Cat warrior. Alexi didn’t place any weight on them, but these warriors considered visions a pivotal part of their lives. “And you realized when you arrived in-system that the fifth was when the HPG was activated. I might tell you that it was coincidence that you had a dream that woke you at the same time the HPG went active.”

  “You could speak the words, but I would not hear them,” Cox replied, turning away from the fire and locking his gaze on hers again.

  She understood. Alexi didn’t agree, but that was irrelevant. “Why come here first? If your interest is the HPG, why not land nearer the compound?”

  Cox smiled wryly. “Imagine what would have been the result of us landing at the local spaceport—a Spirit Cat DropShip debarking personnel and equipment. What would have been the response of the local militia? You and I both know they would have been forced to attack, in an urban environment where the count of pointless deaths and waste of resources would have been high.”

  Alexi smiled back. “You are right, of course.” The images painted by his words were impossible to dismiss. “And I seek to avoid that same outcome should you go to Kinross.”

  The Star captain waved his hand toward the hills that surrounded them, now darkening as the sun dropped lower. “We came here first to honor the spirits of those who died at the hands of the Word of Blake. We hoped those spirits might shed light on the visions of myself and our Galaxy commander. So far, they have not. That means that the answers we seek may be in Kinross.”

  “If you go to the city,” she said in a low tone, “we will be forced to fight you.”

  Cox responded immediately. “If that is what happens, I assure you it will be a glorious fight, one worthy of a line in The Remembrance of the Clans.”

  “Perhaps,” she said, “there is another way.”

  For the first time since she had arrived, she had obviously caught him off guard. Before he could ask for more detail, she explained. “Clan warriors fight combat trials. Rather than us both risking waste of our troops and forces, we could fight a Trial of Possession for safe passage in Kinross.”

  Cox pondered her words for a long moment. “Single combat?”

  “Yes—aff,” she corrected herself.

  “Only a Knight Errant would be considered honorable enough to fight such a challenge. Far too many times have the Clans faced individuals who corrupted our traditions to their own advantage. I would only accept a challenge to fight you in combat.”

  “Agreed.”

  “And the terms of this trial?”

  “If you win, you gain access to Kinross in order to pursue your vision. We would not cede ownership of the city, merely allow access to it. Should we—er—I win, the Spirit Cats leave Wyatt altogether.”

  Cox shook his head. “Neg, Knight Alexi. If you win, the Spirit Cats will not attempt to enter Kinross. However, we will depart Wyatt at our own discretion and timing. Those terms are fair.”

  “I accept these terms, Star Captain.”

  “Our venue will be out here, in these hills,” he spread his arms apart.

  She looked around. The choice of venue was Cox’s, and she wished she had thought through this part of her plan more thoroughly. She might have been able to suggest terrain that gave her some sort of advantage. Instead, she replied, “This land has been scarred by the Jihad. Is it good to injure it again?”

  Cox cocked his left eyebrow at her words. “You surprise me, Knight Alexi. You speak as if you have Spirit Cat blood in your veins, if these hills so speak to you. However, I think a single-combat trial will not stir the dead here.”

  “Who will fight for your Spirit Cats?” As if I have to ask.

  Star Captain Cox said solemnly, “One does not lead from the rear.�
��

  “I must discuss this plan with the civilian government. I believe I can convince them that this is the best way to proceed, as it poses the least amount of risk to the city and infrastructure.”

  “I suggest we fight in two days’ time,” he said. “And during that time, I ask that in the spirit of honor, you withdraw those troops you have watching us in the hills. With a combat trial pending between us, there is no need for spying. I assure you that I will fight with honor, and we prefer privacy in which to perform our rituals of preparation.”

  “Agreed,” she said, casting a glance over her shoulder. Out there somewhere were Lieutenant Tooley’s pickets, probably watching her right now.

  “Well bargained and done,” he said, extending his hand to her. She took it and they exchanged a firm handshake.

  She had much to think about on her journey back to the city.

  14

  Wyatt Militia Headquarters

  Kinross, Wyatt

  The Republic, Prefecture VIII

  14 May 3135

  Tucker watched Alexi climb down the rungs of the ladder hanging down her ’Mech’s right side. The noisy chaos of the ’Mech bay did not seem to reach her—the hissing, pounding, metallic clanking and muffled shouts that merged into white noise. Her lithe frame always conveyed barely contained energy, and he caught some of that energy as she dropped down the last two steps next to the massive pad-foot of the BattleMech.

  There was a lot to this Knight Errant that appealed to him. Part of it was the way she carried herself. While he was caught up in the events surrounding his bringing Wyatt back in contact with the rest of The Republic, those events seemed to control him. It wasn’t that way with her. She seemed to create circumstances rather than react to them.

  He wished he had that ability. The last few days had been a blur. He wasn’t sleeping well. Some of it was due to the snoring of one of the other technicians bunked with him—he’d already given up his sort of private space—but most of it was because he couldn’t stop thinking about the attack against the compound that had cost ComStar the lives of good people. Patricia had done as much as she could to ease his conscience, but what seemed to help the most was just keeping busy, and working on the mobile HQ accomplished that in spades.

  The vehicle itself was amazing; not just because it was a working antique, but also because its impressive capabilities had been ignored for so long. The onboard battle computer and communication systems were still considered top of the line, even by current standards. With these systems, an officer or operator could pull in data feeds from any friendly vehicle or ’Mech on the field and develop a tactical and strategic view of the battlefield and the enemy strength. Fire missions and other orders could be centrally coordinated. The comm system could be used to jam enemy transmissions and communications. If the comms were properly adjusted, Tucker felt that he could even jam enemy targeting and tracking systems, if the ’Mechs or vehicles were close enough to the old war wagon. Its ECM suite would make the HQ vehicle difficult to lock onto for indirect fire, as well. The old girl offered the militia some wonderful advantages. Trying his best to seem casual about the Knight’s return, Tucker leaned against the exterior of the HQ, belatedly remembering that a crew of techs had given the HQ a fresh coat of paint just that morning, and it was probably still a little tacky. Fortunately, the arrival of Alexi Holt had everyone’s attention.

  She had taken only two steps away from the Black Knight before Legate Singh appeared beside her. Tucker had learned a little bit more about the legate during the days spent working on the mobile HQ. The militia maintenance team working with him had given the ComStar personnel the cold shoulder at first, but as they saw system after system come online in the old battlewagon, they warmed up to him and his team.

  According to the two members of the motor pool who were helping replace the power transfer relays, Singh’s family had come to Wyatt as refugees from some other part of the Inner Sphere and had risen quickly through society based on the success of its specialized line of work—hauling toxic wastes. A shrewd man, the legate’s father had secured numerous government contracts and made his fortune: a fortune that he invested in the promotion of his son Edward.

  A mechanic named Darrell who helped him re-run the fiber optics to the extended long-range sensor array was happy to speculate on how Edward Singh became legate. Darrell was also quite willing to expand on the changing perception of the legate based on the comparison between Singh and Knight Holt. Among the militia members, most considered Singh to be a nice guy, friendly and cordial if not a dynamic leader. Until Alexi Holt arrived on Wyatt, the militia thought they had a pretty fair military commander. Now that they had witnessed her leadership skills and experienced the effectiveness of her decision making—they understood how bad they had had it.

  From where he stood, he could see that the discussion between the legate and the Knight Errant was picking up in intensity. Another officer, Lieutenant Johannson, stopped at the periphery of the debate and was listening in. As Tucker watched, a number of other people—militia soldiers and officers, even ComStar techs, moved closer to hear what was happening. Tucker immediately decided to join the gathering crowd.

  “The governor will not like this plan and will not back it,” Tucker heard the legate complain.

  Alexi did not seem moved. “With all due respect, Legate, perhaps the governor would like to face them—alone.”

  “You should have ordered them off Wyatt,” he persisted.

  The Knight Errant flashed a contemptuous grin. Order the Spirit Cats? “I would never presume to give orders to Clan warriors. You knew my plan.”

  “I knew the plan you chose to discuss with me,” Singh seethed. “I had no idea what terms you were going to present to them. The risks are too great. I don’t feel bound to honor what you’ve negotiated.”

  Alexi laughed, which somehow reassured Tucker. “Hell of a time for you to change your mind, Legate Singh. What would you have us do, attack the Spirit Cats?”

  “I’m not afraid of them,” he returned, false bravado ringing in his voice. Even Tucker flinched at his words.

  Are you insane?

  “You should be,” the Knight of the Sphere replied seriously. “This isn’t like facing a bunch of armed mercenaries. These are Clan warriors. For generations they have been bred for war, and are trained from birth to fight and win.”

  She paused, drew a deep breath and exhaled as she straightened to her full height. “If you betray the terms and conditions I have negotiated,” she stated formally, “I would be forced to stand against the militia.”

  Tucker was caught off guard by her words. He thought he understood why she spoke so passionately, but for a Knight to threaten to stand against a legate—that seemed extreme. Singh wiped perspiration from his face in a nervous gesture before he responded. “You would fight against us?”

  “If you betray my word to the Spirit Cats, you’ll be unleashing them on Kinross or anywhere else on Wyatt they choose to attack. Clansmen are oath-bound to fight by a clearly defined set of rules. You violate that honor, and it’s like setting loose a pack of wild hounds on the civilian population and anyone who opposes them. Your militia would be wiped out. Would I fight you? Yes, I’d fight you to prevent you from bringing total war on your people and having them die at the hands of a Clan.” She spoke with unmistakable conviction.

  “They wouldn’t dare,” Singh said weakly.

  She nodded once, decisively. “They would.”

  Tucker believed her. He knew the history of the Clans, how they were the descendants of the Star League Army led into exile by the great General Aleksandr Kerensky. The founders of the Clans had tried to ensure that they were an honorable people, but when crossed, they could be savage. Tucker remembered reading an account of an incident involving the city of Edo on the planet Turtle Bay during the Clans’ initial invasion of the Inner Sphere decades ago. The local population had risen up against one Clan, the Smoke Jaguars. In
response to that show of defiance, the Clan had used their WarShips to blast the city into slag. Even the river running through the city boiled to steam under the bombardment. He knew that history had recorded other examples of Clan excesses; these were not a people to be trifled with.

  “What if you lose?” Singh asked.

  “We honor the terms I’ve negotiated, to the letter. The militia will abandon Kinross and let the Spirit Cats enter and depart it as they see fit.”

  The legate turned until he could pick out Tucker’s face in the crowd. He pointed at him as if wielding a dagger. “And what about Mr. Harwell, whom you insisted on bringing here? What happens to him?”

  “He goes with us,” Alexi said, casting Tucker a reassuring glance. “The terms I’ve negotiated are for the militia to leave. As of yesterday, Tucker Harwell is temporarily attached to the Wyatt Militia.”

  I am? Tucker didn’t remember agreeing to anything of the sort. He opened his mouth to protest, then he thought about what she was saying. If being part of the Wyatt Militia kept him alive, he was happy to have been signed up.

  “You are gambling with our planet,” the legate added. “All for the life of a man who doesn’t even belong to this world.”

  She shook her head. “This isn’t about Adept Harwell. The Spirit Cats didn’t even ask about him. They are here for something else. If the option is taking an untested planetary militia up against them or letting them pass through, I say let them pass. Besides, there is one thing you have overlooked, Legate.”

  “And what is that?”

  She grinned a white smile. “I have no intention of losing.”

  * * *

  The gathering in the ’Mech bay broke up almost as quickly as it gathered. Tucker, Patricia, and Paula Kursk left the rest of their team working on the mobile HQ and offered Lieutenant Johannson their assistance on reconstructing the IndustrialMechs. He accepted their offer so quickly and graciously that Tucker was immediately suspicious of what he was getting into. When he saw the challenge facing him, he understood Johannson’s reaction.