But neither do we have patience with lower-caste scum who dare take up the arms of a warrior."
"But you are willing to make slaves of us!" came a voice from inside the fortress, also amplified but without the resonance provided by a 'Mech's external speakers.
"What does he mean?" Diana asked.
"That we shall find out," Joanna said as she opened up the communications link back to the Command Center and requested to speak to Star Colonel Aidan Pryde.
* * *
In the Command Center, Aidan sat with Demi-Precentor Melanie Truit, the ComStar representative charged with administration of the conquered population of Quarell. ComStar officials on Quarell, as on the other Clan-occupied planets of the Inner Sphere, were acting as a buffer between the planetary populations and their conquerors. He took Joanna's message, then turned to Melanie Truit.
"What do you know of this?"
Truit wrinkled her nose, a rather prominent one that looked out of place on her delicate face. "Less than you, I suspect. We of ComStar are only to administer and govern according to the rules of you, the Clan conquerors. You must realize, Colonel Pryde, that your bondsman custom goes against what any self-respecting Inner Sphere citizen can accept. The Clan custom of selecting a conquered people's finest mental and physical specimens to become bondsmen to warriors of Clan Jade Falcon is foreign to their way of thinking. Nor can they comprehend that the taking of bondsmen is a sign of respect by Clan warriors for those of their enemy who fought well."
Aidan nodded. "I have selected several enemy warriors as bondsmen. Why would anyone protest? It is honorable to serve the Clan, even for a conquered enemy. They should be proud."
Demi-Precentor Truit smiled, an attractive smile that revealed even white teeth. If she had been Clan instead of ComStar, Aidan might have asked her to accompany him to his quarters tonight.
"In the Inner Sphere we have no concept analogous to your bondsman custom," she said. "As the Vreeport man told you, to these people it is slavery, pure and simple."
"Of course it is slavery, but being a bondsman and becoming part of a Clan is better than being enslaved and with dim prospects on one's own planet, is it not?"
"You forget. I am not Clan either. I do not see the distinction. Nor need I, since I serve only ComStar." Despite Demi-Precentor Truit's politely neutral manner, Aidan sensed that she agreed with the insurgents that bondsman was not an honorable state.
"You seem to agree with this foul point of view."
"I am not permitted to say. As the ComStar representative on this planet, I am completely neutral. Do not grunt at me like that. It is quite true."
"I suppose I do not fully understand ComStar and its relationship with the Clans. Explain, Demi-Precentor."
Truit signed, as if the question had come up too often for her liking. "Do you wish the lecture I give to school children?"
"No, the short version is fine. Give me, say, the kind of precis you deliver to your own superiors."
Truit nodded. "Centuries ago ComStar was founded as an administrative arm of the Star League to maintain the vast interstellar communications network that made it possible for a single government to rule over the three thousand inhabited worlds of the Inner Sphere. It was no more than a minor bureaucracy until the young First Lord Cameron died and the usurper Amaris claimed the mantle of First Lord of the Star League."
"And then the great Aleksandr Kerensky led the Star League Defense Forces to crush the usurper Stefan Amaris. You tell me nothing new, Demi-Precentor," Aidan interrupted.
Truit looked at him calmly. "If you are to understand ComStar, you must understand the conditions of our birth," she said. "And, yes, as you state, General Kerensky crushed Amaris, without the aid or support of the League's other High Council Lords. With Amaris out of the way, the Council Lords met to choose a new First Lord from among their number. As you might imagine, each believed that only he or she was the fittest to don the mantle of the First Lord's power. The only point on which they could agree was the decision for General Kerensky to disband the Star League Army."
"The unity of the Star League was destroyed by the avarice of the House Lords," Aidan intoned, almost on cue. "But its heart was protected by the Great Kerensky as he led his followers into the blackness beyond."
Truit looked surprised. "That was very poetic, Star Colonel."
"Those are lines from The Remembrance, the chronicle of our birth and life as Clans."
Truit smiled and continued. "Again, as you say, General Kerensky led the Star League Army, your ancestors, out from the Inner Sphere, escaping from the civil war that erupted between the Great Houses of Steiner, Marik, Liao, Davion, and Kurita. That conflict has lasted several hundred years—what we call the Succession Wars. Only ComStar remained faithful to the vision that shaped the Star League. In fact we are the last surviving remnants of the League government here in the Inner Sphere.
"Jerome Blake, our first Primus, realized that the undreamed-of ferocity of the Succession Wars threatened to destroy interstellar communications as well as the very existence of human civilization. And so he proclaimed ComStar's neutrality, offering all governments equal access to the hyperpulse communications network in exchange for the promise that our facilities would remain inviolate. Thus it was that for some three hundred years ComStar has served as the neutral arbitrator between the Great Houses of the Successor States, as well as maintaining and protecting the precious knowledge that stands between humanity and the abyss of barbarism."
"Now you wax poetic, Demi-Precentor," Aidan said. "But how does ComStar view the Clans' return? Some on Quarell brand ComStar a traitor to the Inner Sphere. Does that not concern you?"
"The primary concern of ComStar has always been the survival of human civilization."
"But you are more than mere bureaucrats and communications specialists. You have military troops, and your organization holds Terra."
Truit seemed offended by Aidan's comment. "The troops are trained merely to defend the integrity of our communications facilities and to serve as a deterrent against aggression. Twenty years ago the Fourth Succession War almost brought the Inner Sphere down in flames. The leaders of the Great Houses seized some of our stations, and we had reason to believe that House Davion was preparing to attack Terra. We only armed ourselves out of sheer necessity. Fortunately the Com Guards have admirably fulfilled their mission of deterrence. They have yet to fight a major battle."
Aidan shook his head in puzzlement. "A curious custom, that. Warriors who cannot war. It is unnatural."
Truit's new smile was somewhat sly. "There are those among ComStar's leaders who might just agree with you. Privately, of course."
"And you are one of those, Melanie Truit?"
"I am not allowed to say, as you well know."
"If ComStar is so neutral, why do you collect the bondsmen from the villages for us?"
"If I am ordered to obtain bondsmen, that is what I do," Truit said matter-of-factly. "My work is to administer the planet's affairs, but I may not violate the customs and rules of those whom I serve, especially when I am doing my job for conquerors."
"Conquerors who, from a certain point of view, are practicing a slave trade?"
"You must understand, Star Colonel, that some people would prefer not to be slaves. They might like to be a warrior, like you, but not a slave."
"Most of them do not have the bloodlines to be good warriors," Aidan said."But as bondsmen, they would have a chance to prove their abilities, and some might actually achieve warrior status. It has happened that a freeborn bondsman has done exactly that."
"I must accept your word on that, Star Colonel, for there is still much about the Clans that I do not know. All I am trying to explain is that it is not strange for the people of Quarell to object to being taken by force, thrown first into a DropShip and then into a JumpShip, to be taken away back to the Clan worlds, wherever that may be."
Aidan knew that Melanie Truit was fishing for informatio
n on the location of the Clan worlds—a fact in which ComStar was very interested—but he made no reply. During this whole conversation, Horse had been providing him with updates on the Vreeport crisis, through messages transmitted onto the screen of Aidan's personal monitor. Seeing that events were heating up, he reopened communications with Joanna.
"Do you have a link with the insurgents?" he asked.
"Well, one of them seems willing to talk to us. In fact, he has not stopped talking since we opened a line. He apparently has some kind of bullhorn."
"Patch me into your commline," Aidan said. "I will speak with him over your external speakers."
"Done, Star Colonel."
"Commtech Caton!"
"Sir?"
"Set the viewing holo for the scene at Vreeport, and enlarge it. I want to see the rebel to whom I am speaking. I want to see every pore, every drop of sweat."
"As you wish, sir."
In the viewing area above the array of control panels in the Command Center there suddenly appeared the face of a middle-aged man with excessively red skin and an expression of slight bewilderment. He was staring warily over the top of the city wall, apparently at the quintet of BattleMechs arrayed against Vreeport. Aidan thought the man's thin, unshaven face and narrow eyes made him resemble an ice ferret cub, a creature that sometimes ripped open the throat of its own mother. Not a good omen for negotiation. Aidan could also see the sweat on the man's face. Indeed, it was pouring off his forehead in rivulets.
"This is Star Colonel Aidan Pryde of the Nega Garrison Cluster," Aidan announced. He could see by the man's startled reaction that Joanna must have turned the speakers up to full volume so that his voice would no doubt resound across the clearing, shaking buildings and unsettling eardrums. It was a good ploy and might help achieve Aidan's goal of ending this uprising bloodlessly.
"Identify yourself, rebel!"
For a moment it looked like the unshaven ice ferret of a man was ready to disappear behind the wall, as people often did when confronted by ghostlike visitations. Then he seemed to get command of himself, slowing raising the bullhorn to his mouth. With his face so enlarged in the viewing area, it was disconcerting to hear the weak and tinny voice coming from it.
"I am Jared Mahoney. I am a survivor of the Vreeport militia and, as such, represent the community in dealings with oppressors like you."
Aidan winced, first at the fact that, like all Inner Sphere citizens, the man had a surname, one that was merely passed on through generations without being earned in a Bloodname battle. Though he realized that naming customs were different here, Aidan did not like to think of anyone other than a Bloodnamed warrior having a surname.
"Jared Mahoney, I order you to end this uprising and surrender to the BattleMech Star that you see near the walls of your city. Those five 'Mechs could level your small community in mere minutes. Your continued resistance is useless."
"But you are making slaves of us!"
"Bondsmen are not slaves. Their duty to us is only temporary. Slaves are purchased and are theoretically slaves for all their—"
Jared Mahoney's voice grew fierce. "Do not try to dazzle me with semantics!" he shouted. "We do not wish to leave Quarell, but you take us. That is slavery, no matter how you try to rationalize it."
"I am willing to discuss the matter with you, Jared Mahoney. However, I must remind you that we have the destructive power to make all negotiations meaningless. Surrender yourself and your people."
Inexplicably, Jared Mahoney did not reply immediately. While still trying to juggle the bullhorn with one hand, he reached down with the other arm to pick up two children, a boy and a girl. The children were as red-faced as the man.
"These are my children," he announced. "My son and my daughter. They are innocent. Would you kill them, merely to assert your authority?"
Aidan cut off communication and turned to Melanie Truit. "Why would he want us to kill his children?"
"He doesn't want you to kill them. He has no understanding of Clan concepts so he cannot understand that the innocence of his children is of no consequence to a Clan warrior. By displaying them, he thinks that you will back off and not kill anyone else in order to protect the children."
Aidan shook his head in puzzlement. "I do not wish to kill any of them, children or adult. But there is nothing in our Clan way that says I must have an emotional response to the idea of children as hostages, especially when they are merely the enemy's children."
"Sir, I am only a ComStar official and cannot hope to interpret any member of the Clan. I try merely to inform you of Jared Mahoney's probable state of mind."
Aidan could not comprehend the edge of frustration in Demi-Precentor Truit's voice, but he sensed that she somehow disapproved of his words. When he returned his attention to the Vreeport scene, he found Joanna addressing the settlement's representative.
"Put your children down," she was saying. "They are mere freebirth scum, like you. Killing freeborns is easy for us, even for the freeborns among us."
"That is enough, Star Commander Joanna," Aidan said over their private channel. "Nothing is gained by provoking them."
"And everything to be gained by putting Vreeport to flames or by marching through it to flatten its stupid citizens under our 'Mechs' feet."
"Patch me to the external speakers again."
When Aidan viewed the projected image of Jared Mahoney once more, the man was still—with effort—holding the two children while also clumsily gripping the bullhorn. The children looked at their father complacently. One of them smiled with what Aidan could only have interpreted as pride.
Aidan found the scene troubling. What was it all about, this relationship between freeborn parents and their children, he wondered, especially here in the Inner Sphere? Even on Clan worlds, Aidan had been equally disturbed by some of the parent-child situations he had observed. What did these children feel about their father, what did he feel about them? Though he had often read about parents and offspring in some of his secret books, the relationship had been just as mysterious to him then.
"Jared Mahoney! We are not impressed by this display of your children. The concept to which you attempt to appeal does not exist for us. Assemble your citizens and vacate Vreeport before any more harm is done."
Jared Mahoney set down his children carefully, then confidently raised the bullhorn to his lips. "We do not capitulate," he said. "If you insist on fighting us, we must fight back."
Aidan almost laughed. "You cannot fight BattleMechs. Not without 'Mechs of your own. And every BattleMech on Quarell has been destroyed."
"Not every one."
Before Aidan could put his question into words, he saw what was meant. Lumbering toward the city walls was a large walking machine that Aidan took to be a BattleMech until Commtech Caton got the image properly focused. Then he immediately saw that it was too small, too light. And it stood on four legs instead of two, with a small, merely protective cockpit on top.
"Are you insane, Jared Mahoney? That is merely an AgroMech."
"It is our BattleMech, Star Colonel. An agribot, to be sure, but one to which, as you can see, a pair of laser cannons has been added, plus a few other refinements. We have also attached explosives to almost every centimeter of its surface, with other explosives placed all around Vreeport—enough to blow up the whole settlement and any of your forces that come too close to the city walls. Perhaps you don't care about human life, Star Colonel, but our hostages also include several ComStar officials and Clan techs who were assigned to Vreeport. Perhaps you already knew about them."
Aidan sighed wearily before speaking. "Yes, I did," he said. "Now I demand you put down your arms and surrender Vreeport."
The demand, Aidan knew, was merely a gesture, and he was not surprised when Jared Mahoney laughed and shouted, "We would really like to see how you do not value human life, Star Colonel. We really would." With that, the red-faced man dropped from sight.
Aidan turned to Melanie Truit. "Do
they have supplies enough to last awhile?"
"Yes. Does that matter to you?"
"Only for its logistical uses. I do not wish to destroy Vreeport, but if necessary I will."
Demi-Precentor Melanie Truit continued to regard him with puzzlement in her clear eyes, but Aidan returned his attention to the screen, which showed him that the transformed AgroMech, the makeshift BattleMech, had opened fire on Joanna's Star. His heart went to his throat as he heard her order to return fire.
8
Diana and Trader spoke over a private channel as they watched the exchange between Aidan and Jared Mahoney. This was the first civilian uprising they had ever observed, and they could not see the point of it.
"Why negotiate with this scum?" said Diana.
"I'm not sure. Clan policy on conquered worlds, I suppose."
"But these idiots would like to blow us up along with themselves. If I were in command, I would order our warriors to take up positions around the city walls, pouring shot in until Vreeport was leveled or they surrendered. Let us get to the real war, not waste time on this trivial bilge."
"What do you mean? Aren't we part of the real war?"
"No, this is backwater stuff, mop-up. I want to get to the forefront of the invasion, the front lines."
"Well, I were you, I would give up hope. You're in the wrong outfit for all that. Don't you know about Aidan Pryde's command?"
Trader did not know that Aidan Pryde was Diana's father, but she had no intention of telling him, or anybody, for that matter. She was satisfied merely to have found him. After having heard so much about him at her mother's knee, Diana now wanted only to observe him. Serving in his command was sufficient for her. She was a warrior now, and Clan warriors put no value on the parent-child relation. The very idea was abhorrent to them.
"What do you mean, Trader?"
Briefly he told her about Aidan's tainted Bloodname, then recounted the other rumors that were rife about him.
"They say he will never get an important command and that his genes will never be accepted in the gene pool."
Falcon Guard Page 5
