Masters of War

by Michael A. Stackpole

  He thinks, but thinks too much. He overanalyzes. Alaric smiled, understanding that someday, far too late, Donovan would realize his mistake. Bjorn, on the other hand, reacted quickly without sufficient forethought, which made him a good Star commander but a disaster as a strategist.

  We are the future of the Wolves. Three futures, two of them dead ends.

  Before Alaric was forced into mind-numbing banter with the other two men, the elementals at the door snapped to attention. Alaric executed an about-face and did the same. So when Khan Seth Ward entered the room, his quick reaction time saved him from letting his surprise show on his face. He took joy in his rivals being unable to conceal their reactions, and only regretted their having already set down their cups, for they surely would have dropped them to the floor.

  No one would ever accuse Khan Seth Ward of being physically imposing. In fact, he seemed far too slender—mainly because his cooling vest hung half laced and seemed oversized. His regulation boots looked too big for his slender, pale legs, crisscrossed with scars. Acne scars pockmarked his face, and the trace of unshaven beard did little to hide them. His dark hair had thinned, but he did not shave his head, and his brown eyes peered from deep eye sockets, accentuating his skull’s death’s-head appearance.

  Despite his looking so casual, the ease with which he dominated the room put the trio of men to shame. He came in still glistening with sweat from having piloted a ’Mech, simple and eloquent proof that he was a warrior. Warriors were what all of them were supposed to be, yet they had chosen to appear in the finery and pomp of the Clans.

  With a simple act of dress he shamed them, stripping them of any sense of self-importance.

  The khan looked at Alaric. “I am pleased you were delayed. It gave me more time in the cockpit. One can never have too much.”

  Alaric bowed his head in acknowledgment; his companions felt the need to respond affirmatively. He did not ask for comments. It was not a question.

  Seth Ward smiled, his dark eyes sparkling. “I see you have found the refreshments and made yourselves welcome. Good. ‘An army travels on its stomach.’ “

  Bjorn smiled. “The Great Father, Aleksandr Kerensky, said that.”

  Donovan frowned. “He was quoting Napoleon.”

  The khan glanced again at Alaric. “Do you wish to eat?”

  “I ate on the flight. Slept as well.”

  “Very good, then we are set to go.” The khan turned back to the doorway. “Ah, there you are. Come in and we shall get started.”

  As his invitation a woman entered the room. Her long black hair showed signs of having been recently released from a braid and hung down over the breast of her cooling vest. Like the khan, she still glowed with perspiration. Alaric put her age at five years older than himself, making her a decade younger than the khan. He found her rather plain, but not wholly unattractive. Her gray eyes contrasted intriguingly with her dark hair and complexion.

  “This is Selvina Woods. She is Khan Patrik Fetladral’s envoy from the Exiles.”

  Alaric’s mind raced, seeing spheres within spheres. The khan’s entrance had reminded them of their true nature. That he had been exercising with one of the Exiles, and that she was attired as he was raised her above them as well. Wordlessly the khan acknowledged her standing as a warrior, which, in turn, elevated the Wolves-in-Exile.

  Or was meant to.

  This was not easy to achieve for Alaric. He would have thought it impossible, but his surprise at her appearance had opened the hatch to it just a micron or two. Vlad Ward, khan of Clan Wolf and his mother’s consort, had opposed the exodus that split the Wolves. He had fought hard to save Clan Wolf from extinction. The stories of his battles were yet legend among the Wolves and marked the depth of passion they felt for their Clan.

  His mother had an entirely different take on the Wolves-in-Exile, but she loathed them to the same degree as did Vlad. Phelan Kell had been a distant cousin of hers, son of Morgan Kell, an infamous mercenary leader. When Katrina took the throne of the Lyran Commonwealth and split it apart from the Federated Suns, Morgan defied her. Whenever she told the story, her hand would creep up to massage her throat. Alaric was certain she did not realize she was doing that, and she never spoke of what caused her to feel so threatened still. Regardless, her hatred of the Exiles had been poured into him until it overflowed.

  But now, here, Khan Ward offered a different view of the Exiles. He crossed to the sideboard and passed a bottle of water to Selvina before taking one himself. “Please be seated, all of you. You will treat what the envoy says with the same respect you would give words coming from the khan’s mouth, quiaff?”

  Alaric nodded and seated himself at the middle of the conference room’s table, halfway between Ward and the envoy. The other two chose seats closer to the khan, but neither dared seat himself in the closest chairs. Bjorn toyed with crumbs from a muffin, while Donovan clasped his hands together and tried to look comfortable.

  Selvina set down her bottle. “We have been approached by the archon of the Lyran Commonwealth. Our position in the Commonwealth establishes us as a defensive force against Clan attacks. We are very strong, but our mission restricts our ability to respond to other Commonwealth needs. The Commonwealth has requested that we come to you and offer a mutually beneficial alliance.”

  Bjorn still played with crumbs, but his eyes weren’t tracking what his fingers were doing. The very suggestion that the Wolves, their Exiles and an Inner Sphere nation might unite had blown past his capacity for rational thought. Donovan’s eyes had tightened and a vein at his temple pulsed. He started to reach for his cup, then hesitated and folded his hands together again.

  Alaric absorbed the information and fended off the negative reaction he heard as a chorus of Vlad and Katrina. Vlad rejected it as a union with inferiors, and the Wolves should hold themselves to the highest standard. Moreover, the request for an alliance revealed weakness. The Wolves should hunt down the source and exploit it. That was a wolf’s nature.

  Katrina would reject it immediately based on her hatred for the Exiles; but her rejection was not as vehement as Vlad’s. In fact, quickly on the heels of it came a question, likewise looking for weakness, but weakness that would allow her to return in glory to the realm she had once ruled. In a glimmer of insight she would see this opportunity as the favor of the gods shining on her. She would return in triumph to the Lyran Commonwealth, victorious against all her enemies.

  “The Commonwealth approached us because what they have in mind is similar to our Exodus. They want you to bring Clan Wolf in its entirety to the Lyran Commonwealth. As with our Arc-Royal Theater, they want to position you to be able to defend and attack as necessary.” Selvina leaned on her elbows. “The archon’s representative was coy, but they are clearly more interested in your taking war to the enemy preemptively than they are in waiting for you to get hit.”

  Seth Ward leaned back in his chair. “You presume they want to place us on the border with what was once the Free Worlds League?”

  “The League’s shattered remnants are the only true threat the Commonwealth faces. That border has long been in dispute, and there are rich worlds there. The conquest of any of them would materially benefit the party taking them, grossly shifting the balance of power. The League’s confederation is nonexistent, but a successful attack on the Commonwealth could begin to unite their forces or encourage other adventurism.”

  Donovan shook his head. “Unification out of that chaos is impossible.”

  Alaric flicked his comment away with a quick gesture. “The same could have been said of the Inner Sphere eight decades ago, but war with the Clans united the worlds in a common cause. The fall of The Republic has caused the old political notions to reappear. We have no reason to believe Marik nationalism could not be quite potent.”

  Selvina bowed her head. “We agree. Moreover, my Wolves view this as an excellent opportunity for us to heal the rift that sundered us so long ago. The Wolves have always been fi
rst among the Clans. Both branches have thrived. While anything approaching a complete reunification would take time, there is no reason we cannot act together in a manner that will benefit both of us and confound our enemies.”

  A solemn nod from the khan killed Bjorn’s intended protest of that point. He realized he’d lost by saying nothing in the previous exchange, but he was unable to read power flows and nuances. This skill Alaric had learned from his mother, and secretly delighted in watching the energy arcing around the room.

  Alaric allowed himself a smile. “The suggestion, then, Colonel Woods, is that the remainder of Clan Wolf would uproot itself entirely and move to the Commonwealth.”

  “Exactly.” Selvina nodded. “It is a task of enormous logistical complexity, but we still know how it was done in the past.”

  The khan smiled. “A move such as this has been long anticipated in certain circles. We have run simulations. It can be done.”

  The Exiled Wolf nodded. “We always anticipated you might pursue us. Now we may be united again. We have the Jump- and DropShip assets to help you accomplish this journey. Of course, as with the first Exodus, speed and secrecy will be paramount, and just as much for the Commonwealth’s protection as your own.”

  The vastness of the project and its various implications exploded in Alaric’s mind. Pieces of it began to align themselves, but it was Donovan who began to articulate things. His need to verbalize in order to comprehend was another weakness, but at least he was capable of understanding the gravity of the task.

  “If Marik forces catch hints of any alliance, they would be forced to attack. This would put us at a disadvantage. While our troops could swing into combat almost immediately, we face the challenge that our noncombatants would be scattered throughout the fleet, in order for us to use transportation assets in combat roles. If we were forced to land sudden influxes of Wolves on worlds in order to free up transportation, that could trigger protests and other problems. It might cause enough trouble that the archon would be deposed and then we would be invaders in a new realm, with no way back out.”

  Bjorn agreed. “First off, we have to secure our base of operations.”

  “Exactly. We need to control perception and move with utter secrecy. We will have to be stealthy.”

  Khan Ward nodded. “Your thoughts, Colonel Alaric?”

  “I cannot discount the wisdom of what my peers have said. It is a conundrum, and not an easy one to solve.” Alaric nodded toward the Exile. “You have had time to think on this.”

  “I have, and would gladly make my thoughts known to you. You will, however, find them flawed. I am only able to project what your assets and needs might be. Any estimates and suggestions would have to be revised in light of actual figures, and I can easily imagine your reluctance to communicate the same to me. If you did, it would leave you vulnerable whether you agreed to this offer or not.”

  She smiled. “Therefore, I shall assume any data to be generally correct, but also discounted by a factor of ten to twenty percent.”

  Donovan and Bjorn nodded, but stopped when the khan shook his head. “The Inner Sphere’s intrigues might force such caution, but between Wolves we have no need to suspect treachery. I will give you the information you desire and risk this being some sort of elaborate trap. I am certain you know any war with us would be one of mutual annihilation. Neither of our peoples are given to such wasteful foolishness.”

  Alaric brought his hands together. “If you will forgive me, Khan Ward, it sounds as if you are considering this proposal seriously.”

  “Is there a reason I should not?”

  “Neg, though the chances of it working well are slim.”

  The khan smiled. “Fortunately for me, I am not the one who needs to make it work. You three are. I want the three of you to come up with plans to make this work. Each will be judged, one or more of them may be adopted, and you each will play your part, if the plans are implemented. Do you understand this?”

  Alaric limited his response to a curt nod.

  “Very well. You will be taken to your quarters here and all the necessary data will be made available to you. You will have a staff of three subordinates to work with you, subordinates of my choosing. You will formulate your plans and present them to me in two days.”

  Two days? Alaric shivered.

  Bjorn nodded enthusiastically.

  Donovan adopted the curt nod.

  Khan Ward stood. “Two days, gentlemen. Two days to secure the future of Clan Wolf.”

  8

  Domain, Clan Wolf Occupation Zone

  17 December 3136

  Of course their plans are flawed—they are mere mortals. Alaric had known their presentations would be flawed before either man began to speak. Each had duplicated his data and report, making copies available to the khan, the envoy and the other advisers Seth Ward had invited to listen. They studied their datapads, then tipped their heads back and closed their eyes, as if this would somehow allow knowledge to seep into their brains.

  Donovan displayed the most nervousness. He flicked the buttons on the datapad, flashing screens forward and back, scrolling down through long streams of data. Alaric did not doubt that the man had equipment lists broken down by the serial numbers of the parts in every ’Mech he intended to use. He’d clearly checked and double-checked all of his figures. He’d be able to project the entire cost of the operation to the nearest billion C-bills, which would delight the Lyrans no end.

  Bjorn, on the other hand, just smiled obliviously. He clearly assumed he had the entire operation locked up. He might even have thought of a trick or two—an errant missile will find a target now and again. Ultimately, however, his bliss must come from ignorance, because there was no way he could deal with the overwhelming amount of data created by planning an operation like this.

  So, just as Donovan found himself drowning in data, Bjorn blithely skated above it all. Neither man had found the middle ground, but Alaric had. The key was knowing what data had to be handled and ignoring the rest. This he had done, and that was why he was superior to his mortal competition.

  Bjorn rose first to make his presentation. “Khan Ward, distinguished guests, the charge I was given was to plan a new Exodus from our occupation zone into the Lyran Commonwealth. Our presumed destination is the border with the old Free Worlds League.”

  Alaric raised an eyebrow. Presumed? Bjorn’s delight with himself clearly stemmed from his belief that he had found a loophole in the planning. He’d not solved the problem they’d been given, he’d found a solution and redefined the problem.

  The blond man hit a button on his datapad, and the lights in the amphitheatre dimmed. A holographic representation of the Inner Sphere burned to life, and shading delineated the political realms: blue for the Commonwealth, gray for the Wolves, green for the Jade Falcons and silver for the remains of The Republic. The gray and blue bordered each other, making for an easy transfer of troops and personnel.

  “The key problems we face are the need for speed and for secrecy. It was pointed out that if the enemy gets word of what we are doing, they could attack the Commonwealth and political pressures could topple the government. We would be trapped in a foreign nation, no longer welcome, and face an exodus as difficult as that of the Ten Thousand from Persia three millennia ago.”

  A nice historical reference. I wonder how much time you wasted looking for it.

  “A solution suggested itself to me almost immediately.” Bjorn’s grin grew. “Eighty years ago the Exiles staged an exodus and have offered to help us accomplish ours. My plan is bold and simple. We, for our part, will follow their original plan and blast our way through the Jade Falcons. No one will suspect a thing. We will hurt them enough that they will not pose a threat to the Lyran Commonwealth.

  “What this will do, then, is free the Exiles from their duties in the ART. As we come through the Falcons, they will leave their homes and head toward the border with the old Free Worlds League. Their passing will cause
no alarm and will position them perfectly to deal with the League leftovers. We will come in and take their old positions, and they will travel to the holdings we were to be given. If we need to switch places later, that can be arranged.”

  As he spoke the star chart changed. A gray shadow fell over some Falcon worlds, and shades of blue shifted within the Commonwealth. At the end of it all, the Commonwealth’s blue had a gray tinge, but glowed far more intensely, suggesting vitality.

  Though the animation did not impress Alaric, the basic tenets of the plan did. Not that it would work, but at least Bjorn had enough sense to realize that making the journey as short as possible was absolutely paramount. The longer the Wolves were on the move, the more vulnerable they became.

  In theory, because a JumpShip could leap thirty or more light-years at a time, any journey could be accomplished without having to land on a planet. The JumpShip would merely arrive in a system, recharge the Kearny-Fuchida jump drive, then leap to another system. Depending on the route chosen, pursuing a force would be impossible and anticipating where they would end up would be doubly so.

  Theory, however, gave way to practicality. While JumpShips could operate independent of planet-falls, the personnel and equipment in the DropShips they hauled could not. Just feeding the troops would require reprovisioning. Even if the Clan stripped every last ounce of food, fuel and spare parts off the worlds they were leaving, they would run out of provisions well before they reached their destination.

  As the Napoleonic maxim advised, an army travels on its stomach, so either they were going to have to tighten their belts, or find supplies along the way. Bjorn’s solution of making the trek short helped a great deal in that department; but it was unrealistic to expect the Exiles to accept an influx of Wolves while their military went far away to fight. And the Exiles would be disinclined to pick up lock, stock and barrel and staff the worlds intended for the Wolves, no matter how logical a solution to the problem that was.