Malicious intent

by Michael A. Stackpole

  "So I've heard, Primus." Lisa threw her a brief salute. "But you must make haste. The Blakists came for Terra, and we'll see to it that Terra is all they get."

  24

  McKenzy Molecular Smelters Coventry

  Coventry Province, Lyran Alliance

  15 March 3058

  Hauptmann Caradoc Trevena didn't know if he should be thankful or angry about the urgent call to report to Second Battalion's headquarters in the smelter's compound. Going there would mean leaving his company in Leftenant Murdoch's capable hands. He knew she could handle their recon sweep of the plateau's edge, but with Falcon DropShips out there to the east, unloading their BattleMechs, anxiety would be spiking among his people.

  Better they're out there than stuck here.

  McKenzy Molecular Smelters and the hills of smoking slag surrounding it were the only visible feature on the flat plateau from its eastern edge to the Cross-Divide Mountains in the west. Off to the north, hidden from casual viewing, lay the open-pit mine where they dug out the ore the smelter refined. Doc couldn't figure out why he and his company had been flown over to the Dunnigan continent to protect the smelter. It was ugly as sin and of no military value whatsoever.

  Beyond the Cross-Divides to the west lay the continent of Veracruz, where the Tenth Skye Rangers had their home base at Port St. William. From the few reports funneled to him, Doc knew that the Clans had landed the main body of their force there to face the Academy cadets, the other half of the Rangers, and the Coventry Militia. The fighting over there would center around the Coventry Metal Works and would be decidedly nasty.

  The Rangers dug in around the smelter perimeter challenged Doc as he approached, and he answered with the appropriate passwords. Bringing his 'Mech to a stop well inside their lines, he pulled off his neurohelmet and popped the hatch on the Centurion. He climbed down the left arm, jumped to the left thigh, then descended a bit further along the lower leg before leaping to the ground. Sharon Dome and Tony Wells stood waiting for him in the 'Mech's enormous shadow.

  He could tell from their faces, and the fact that they'd not briefed him over the radio, that things were bad. "What happened?"

  "Duke Bradford called over here to personally express to Kommandant Sarz how important it was to defend the smelter. Old Horst took the call in the plant manager's office, where he happened to find the wet bar."

  "Dammit, let's go." Doc followed them as they ran toward the smelter's offices. Like the rest of them, Kommandant Horst Sarz had been consigned to the Tenth Skye Rangers because of his unsuitability for service elsewhere. When he wasn't drinking, Sarz was an able commander, but a cloud appearing on the horizon was enough to make him look for a bottle. Doc had used his influence with Copley to see that no liquor got shipped out with the Rangers, but he'd not really expected Sarz to get through the operation sober.

  We're closer to Port St. William than Horst is to sober. The Kommandant, a young man with thinning blond hair, sat slumped over the plant manager's desk. His head rested on the blotter and his tongue slowly flicked out as he licked at the mouth of the bottle that his hand couldn't quite tip correctly to pour out the last of the liquor.

  Sharon Dome's red ponytail lashed her shoulders as she turned back toward Doc. "He's a waste."

  Doc nodded. "This is a nightmare."

  Tony Wells pointed to Sharon and back toward himself. "We've been thinking. I'll take command of the unit. You'll pull your people back and hold the north flank. We'll make sure it costs them a lot to get this place."

  "Say what?"

  "Doc, it's the only thing we can do. Tony's got more combat experience than either one of us, so giving him command is logical."

  "I don't think so." Doc tapped his chest. "I've got more time in grade than both of you combined. I'm happy as hell you've got the experience,'but command of this unit falls to me, and I will command it. And we won't be defending this smelter."

  Wells and Dome just stared at him. "But, Doc, that's our mission. Tony and I heard what Duke Bradford told the Kommandant. This is a vital installation and it has to be held."

  "Duke Bradford is thinking like a politician, not a military strategist."

  Tony ran a hand through his unruly black hair. "I don't follow."

  "It's simple." Doc gestured to the desk where Sarz had begun to snore. "See the nameplate."

  "Sure, Ernst Rhuel. He runs the plant."

  "And he's uncle to Chairman Gertrude Rhuel, leader of the Commonwealth Party. She's Duke Bradford's chief support in the Parliament of Governors here. We're guarding this plant because he wants to show her he's willing to look out for her concerns."

  Sharon frowned at him. "This is still an important facility. The ore refined here goes over to CMW to produce 'Mechs."

  "Right, this is a primary production facility. But, aside from some off-world shipments of strategic metals, it produces nothing that feeds directly into the economy. Everything this plant turns out has to be processed at least once more before it's useful." Doc opened his hands and looked at the other two officers. "This plant is of no use to anyone—especially Clan raiders—who are on Coventry to plunder and run."

  Tony shook his head. "If that were true, the Falcons wouldn't have landed troops in the lowlands just outside the city."

  Doc gently rapped his fists on his own forehead. "Tony, what the hell did they teach you at NAM A? The aim of modern warfare is to destroy the other guy's ability to wage war. The Coventry Metal Works is an obvious target for the Falcons. It gives them raw material and lets them blow the hell out of the troops defending it. That's why they're attacking in Port St. William. And the reason they landed over here in Idaway is because they're coming to get us. We're the only thing of military importance in this part of the world."

  Tony was clearly stung by the tone of Doc's rebuke. "You sound paranoid. We moved while their DropShip scanners were blocked by the planet. They might know the plant is here, but not us."

  "Think, guys. They know we're here because our position was given to them when they bid the battle out. They asked what we'd be defending with, and General Bakkish told them."

  Sharon perched herself on the arm of a chair. "So what are we going to do?"

  Doc hesitated. He'd read up on the Clans, studied their tactics, their victories, and their defeats. He'd trained people who'd gone on to fight against them. If the battalion was to survive, he knew he was capable of leading them away from destruction. A smile grew on his face with that last realization. No dead soldiers have ever defeated anyone.

  "Okay, look, we're forty klicks out from the mountains. The Academy maintains some exercise grounds and live-fire ranges there. There are also supposed to be a lot of mines and natural caverns in the area. Find Copley—I heard he's been caving or something over there. We'll pull back to the mountains and set up in the Academy's prepared positions. We can use the gunnery range to protect our northern flank—it's got to be chock full of unexploded munitions. The Academy positions probably also have zeroed ranges for most of the passes."

  Sharon nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

  Doc looked to Tony. "What do you think?"

  Tony Wells shrugged reluctantly. "I don't like the idea of retreating and abandoning our mission here."

  "Okay, Tony, but think about this: what are the chances that a battalion—our battalion—can stop a regiment of BattleMechs? We've got no aerospace or artillery support. We're defending a wart on a plain, which gives the Falcons the advantage because their weaponry is far more effective at range than ours is. On Tukayyid the nastiest and most effective fighting done by ComStar occurred in the mountains, where all ranges are reduced to the point where the Clans lose their advantage."

  "Yeah, you've got a point, but we're supposed to be defending this plant."

  Sharon shook her head. "If we stay here the chance of this smelter surviving the defense are zero. If we pull back and the Falcons want the plant, they get it, then we take it back later. If they're really after us, they
leave the plant alone. Doc's right, the situation here is suicide for us. The Cross-Divide mountains are defensible. Fighting from there will improve our chances of killing more of them before they get us."

  Tony held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, but log my protest."

  Doc nodded. "So noted. Now I have to ask you—how battle-worthy are your units?" The other two refused to meet his gaze. "Is it that bad?" he asked.

  "We've got solid people," Sharon said, "but our training schedules aren't up to what they should be. I've got a Strike, Support, and Close Assault Lances."

  "And I've got two Strike Lances and a Support Lance," Tony put in.

  "Okay, I'll pull my people in and have them recon the mountains. The Support Lances and your Close Assault Lance go next, along with auxiliary, medical, and tech personnel. The 'Mechs will have to position themselves to cover the three Strike Lances as they pull out."

  "As I said before, it's a plan." Sharon jerked a thumb at Sarz. "What about him?"

  Tony shook his head. "Leave him."

  Doc was inclined to agree, but shook his head. "Can't leave him-—the Falcons could get a lot of intelligence out of him. We'll bring him with us."

  Sharon glanced at Doc. "And you'll take his Penetrator?"

  Doc smiled. The Penetrator was a 'Mech that had been produced specifically for combat against the Clans. While it was significantly slower than his Centurion, its jump jets did give it added mobility. The 'Mech's superior firepower and armor would make him far more effective in a fight. A whole world of possibilities opened up before him.

  "I will—and I'll get some tech to start piloting my Centurion." Doc nodded solemnly. "We're going to need every gun we can find to survive this thing. And make no mistake about it—that's what I want us to do."

  Sharon gave him a thumb's-up. "Roger that, acting Kommandant Trevena."

  25

  Tharkad City Tharkad

  District of Donegal, Lyran Alliance

  20 March 3058

  Katrina relished the look of surprise on Tormano's face when he entered the office and saw her seated at her desk. "Good morning, Mandrinn Liao."

  "Highness, I ..." Tormano's expression and tone of voice hovered halfway between apology and anger. "When did you return?"

  "Last night." She smiled, still tingling with the thrill of being smuggled back onto the planet. "Records of the landing having already been destroyed and the crew is being debriefed by the Ministry of Public Safety. Everything is in perfect order."

  "You should have called for me when you arrived."

  "I inquired. You had retired for the evening."

  Tormano smiled and bowed his head. "I would have come ..."

  "No matter." She tapped the Enter key on the keyboard at her desk. "I wanted to review what's been happening in my absence."

  The holographic map of the Lyran Alliance materialized between them. "I must congratulate you, Mandrinn, on your handling of the Falcon crisis. Even as I returned to Tharkad I was only beginning to hear of the raids on Engadine and Bucklands. Of course, in my absence, you had no choice but to stonewall news of the raids, but you did it in a way that our enemies in the Inner Sphere haven't an inkling of the trouble."

  Tormano bowed a bit more formally. "I am happy that my work pleases you."

  "Indeed." As Katrina studied him she found herself comparing Tormano Liao and the Wolf Khan she had met. Tormano possessed a sense of decorum that she'd also glimpsed in Vlad but that he seldom found reason to employ. The bigger difference was that Tormano might try to hide certain things from her, where Vlad would have proudly proclaimed what he'd done and why, confident of her approval.

  And he'd probably get it. From the moment she laid eyes on Vlad of the Wolves Katrina knew she'd found what she hadn't even realized she'd been looking for. Not that she hadn't hoped to find someone to love one day, someone to share her life with. Galen Cox had seemed to be that man—his only flaw his unswerving allegiance to her brother Victor. Such loyalty to her most dangerous enemy had cost Galen his life, and from time to time she still mourned what she'd lost. Since then she'd found no suitable candidate— Thomas Marik did not interest her in the least—and so she'd given up the quest.

  It is said that when you stop looking is when you find what you want. Her attraction to Vlad had been instantaneous and complete. She felt it in the pit of her stomach, hadn't even been able to breathe for an instant. He was certainly attractive enough—even with the scar on his face he was handsome—but it was something that shone through his eyes that drew her. Till now she'd jealously guarded her virginity and hand in marriage because of their value, but she wanted Vlad the moment she saw him. Nothing she had was too valuable to offer in exchange for a future with him.

  Comparing Tormano and Vlad helped her to identify what it was she'd seen in the Wolf Khan's eyes. Tormano obviously had an attraction to and affinity for power. He had used and manipulated it all his life, but he was opportunistic and content to retreat from a source of power if opposed.

  But Vlad—and she herself and her father before her— hungered for power. They preyed upon others, exploiting weakness for their own gain. Hanse Davion had coordinated the grandest assault ever seen in the Inner Sphere and succeeded in cutting the Capellan Confederation in half. Vlad and the Wolves had launched an assault on the Inner Sphere that dwarfed even her father's feat. Victor hated the Clans for that, but Katrina could only admire them for it.

  Vlad and I are predators, the rest are prey.

  "If I may ask, Highness, how went your mission? Have we an ally among the Clans?"

  Katrina nodded and made no effort to kill the smile growing on her face. "We do indeed. I was prevented from reaching the Smoke Jaguars, but I have spoken with the leader of the Wolves and we have an understanding."

  "An understanding." Tormano's tone seemed to soil the idea and layer it with innuendo. "The Wolves are split from Phelan's people, then?"

  "Much as your sister's St. Ives Compact is split from the Capellan Confederation."

  "And you are certain of this Wolf?"

  "Quite."

  She smiled again and Tormano waited for an explanation that she would never give him. During the return trip to the Lyran Alliance she had spent much time in Vlad's company, wanting to learn as much as she could about him. In many ways he was utterly alien to her, yet she found him more kin in spirit than any of her blood siblings.

  With her brothers and sisters everything was a game of position, of taking power or surrending it. With Vlad it was different because he accorded her an equality because of who she was, not what she was heir to. Oh, she knew that were she not the ruler of a star empire he would have left her a bondswoman, but his curiosity about her and respect would have been the same. Her position merely let him grant her the privileges to which she was born, while his feelings about her made him treat her as a peer.

  They still played little games to seek and withhold information, and what games they had been. Katrina had ever been able to manipulate those around her, and even Vlad seemed susceptible to her charms. He, on the other hand, played by different rules. She had to learn how to deal with him and he with her, then both made forays into the other's territory, playing by the other's rules. She enjoyed the novelty of the blunt use of power, shredding the screen of polite manners that veiled her intent. Conversely, Vlad seemed to find amusing the intricate tangle of proper and improper social conventions that regulated life in the Inner Sphere.

  By testing the other's methods they each learned how frighteningly similar they were. Those who had previously courted Katrina had either been so frightfully inept in handling power that she could only hold them in contempt, or so thoroughly afraid of offending her that they were completely bland and colorless. Even Galen had been flawed by his ties to Victor. Vlad's liking and skillful use of power made him virtually her twin.

  Katrina pointed toward the holographic map. "I see, Mandrinn, that the Falcons have all arrived on Coventry. You have no
clear idea of their strength."

  "No, Highness. They are constantly shifting forces in and out. Their bidding only reveals to us the force they are using in a given attack, not all the force they have in the theater." He frowned. "The fighting in and around Port St. William is heavy and our people are holding, but casualties are high. There are shortages of ammunition in the Tenth Skye Rangers, but they seem willing to fight to the last."

  The Archon stood abruptly and let her irritation show. "It would strike me, Mandrinn, that pinning a force down around the McKenzy Smelter was foolish. You had the wisdom to let the Skye Rangers' Second Battalion retreat to the mountains. Why are you forcing the Militia and the Rangers to die defending Port St. William?"

  Tormano lowered his head for a moment. "First of all, your grand-aunt is directing operations on Coventry."

  "From here, on Tharkad."

  "Yes, but she is in command. Secondly, Duke Frederick Bradford requested defense of the metal works and of an ore refinery."

  Katrina squinted slightly in thought. "Duke Bradford, as I recall, still professes some loyalty to my brother. His requests mean little as far as I am concerned."

  "His requests are strategically sound." Tormano pointed at the map. "CMW is the second-largest 'Mech production facility in the whole of the Inner Sphere. We cannot afford to lose it. And the Second Battalion's retreat was not authorized. There appears to have been a mutiny in the unit. They obviously retreated to keep from getting killed by the Falcons, though their withdrawal will not have that effect. Our last reports indicated that the Clans have bypassed the smelter and are pursuing the Rangers into the mountains."

  Tormano's eyes grew hard. "The defense of CMW and the refinery are not nearly as important as the necessity of delaying the Falcons in achieving their objectives on Coventry. Every day they have to spend on that planet is one more day we have to prepare for the defense of Tharkad. If we can keep the Falcons tied up for another two weeks, we can have reinforcements there by then. If our people challenge the Clans when they arrive in-system, the Falcons could be trapped and never make it off to attack Tharkad."