Impetus of War

by Blaine Lee Pardoe

  "I assume you've both looked over the reorganization and battle plans I'm putting together."

  Kurt Blakadar glanced first at Mitch Fraser, then at Loren, then quickly at Major Craig, who shared his puzzled expression. "Major, I take it you're going to dismiss our Chief Technician before we begin?"

  Loren shook his head. "No, Major. Captain Fraser remains for the debriefing."

  "Sir," Craig cut in. "We've never had technical staff sit in on our command meetings before. I know you're still getting settled in, you had no way to know."

  "Actually," Loren said calmly, "I'm completely aware. I decided that Captain Fraser should participate in this meeting because it directly relates to the performance of his team." The two Fusilier majors exchanged quick glances, but held their tongues.

  "Now, then, what about the BattleMech reallocation plan?" Loren went on smoothly. "Are there any issues we need to address before we initiate this phase of the pre-launch?" Both Loren and his Chief Tech had worked on the reallocations into the wee hours of the night. Loren had conceived the plan, but Mitch was the one who would have to make it work both on paper and in action.

  Craig spoke again, adjusting his glasses as he began. "With all due respect, Major Jaffray, Blackie and I believe that reallocating 'Mechs at this time is not advisable. Some of our people won't have time to get acquainted with the new hardware. We propose pulling some of the extra field-repair units out of the DropShip loads and replacing them with extra ammunition. This will still meet Colonel Stirling's objectives, as outlined in your report, without shuttling around all that equipment."

  There was a long pause. Loren rose from his seat and walked around the room, circling the table like a hawk seeking prey. "Captain Fraser, you've reviewed the allocations I propose. Will it be any problem for your technical staff to handle it?"

  Mitch Fraser leaned on his elbows, head in his hands over the middle of his retreating hairline as he studied the report in front of him. There were notes scribbled all over the hardcopy. "I've put together several recommended changes. Mostly upgrading to 'Mechs that have jump capability. From the tactical database information you've provided on the Clans, it sounds like they don't really favor jump-capable 'Mechs. Having a few more in the field will help us."

  He handed the report to Loren, who looked it over, taking his time reviewing the data. "Excellent analysis, Mitch. I think you'll find that Colonel Stirling and I have already taken that into account. In most of these cases we'll be putting in jump-capable 'Mechs whose weapons are energy-rather than ammo-based, or are just less tonnage."

  Loren understood the risk if they did not swap out their 'Mechs. Wayside V was a world with no place to resupply expended ammunition. Added to that, the Jaguars were traditionally short on jump-capable 'Mechs. We need the jumpers for the tactical battles and the 'Mechs favoring energy weapons so we can outlast the Jaguars.

  "Let's let our Intelligence Officer run through your recommendations." Loren handed the sheet to Captain Lovat at the end of the table, who began to dutifully compare the listings against his own prepared roster.

  Kurt Blakadar's face flushed angrily. "Major Jaffray, I don't think you fully understand the implications of what I was saying earlier. Just carrying out these 'Mech swaps is going to stretch our resources thin."

  Loren cut him off, his voice sterner and more forceful than before. "Actually, Kurt, I understand the implications precisely. It may shock you, but I have coordinated large-scale operations before in my career. You'll simply have to step up training for the affected troops between now and the time we take off." Loren's use of Blakadar's first name was intentional. Let Craig think that Blakadar and I are closer than he knows. It may keep him thinking about that rather than me.

  "Almost a quarter of my troops are on leave after our last training exercise. There's no way I can make these swaps, as short-staffed as I am," Craig said, trying another tack.

  Loren was unmoved. "Then I guess you'll have to cancel their leaves immediately and have them recalled to the regiment."

  "Major, the ink isn't even dry on this contract," Blakadar said. "Maybe we should hold off, draw up some alternatives and then hammer out the details. There's still some time before we leave."

  Loren kept his face neutral. "I have my orders and now you have yours. You will swap out the 'Mechs as ordered. If that requires you to recall your personnel, I suggest you get started as soon as this meeting is concluded."

  "Major Jaffray, maybe we should take this matter up with the Colonel," Cullen Craig said. The implication was clear. Craig was insinuating that Loren had either withheld information from Colonel Stirling or was operating without her authorization. Either way, it was a challenge Loren had no intention of ignoring.

  "No, Major Craig. I'm following the Colonel's orders. And just between us, I think there's already been enough overriding of the chain of command. BattleMech allocation is totally in the jurisdiction of the Executive Officer. Colonel Stirling told me to get the regiment ready and that's exactly what I'm doing." Loren could see from the surprised looks on the faces of Craig and Blakadar that they hadn't known he'd found out that they'd gone to the Colonel behind his back.

  But Craig just wouldn't give up. "I think that if the Colonel knew some of the—"

  "Enough!" Loren barked, pounding his fist on the massive table with such force that even the heavy oak seemed to quake under the impact. "I'm going to say this once, and only once, so I'm going to make myself perfectly clear. I am the Executive Officer in this regiment. We three hold the same rank, but you report to me for operational and administrative issues. My orders come directly from Colonel Stirling and it is our duty to execute them to the best of our ability. Now, I've given you an order. If you refuse to follow it, I have no choice but to have you arrested and court-martialed. Do I make myself clear, Majors?"

  Kurt Blakadar shifted nervously in his seat for a moment. "Major Jaffray—"

  Loren cut him off. "Is that clear, Major Blakadar, Major Craig?" There would be no more discussion.

  "Sir, I request permission to speak freely," Blakadar said stubbornly.

  Loren looked at him and crossed his arms in defiance. "Request denied."

  "Major Jaffray, your changes are coming too quickly," Craig put in quickly. "We had a smooth-running system under MacFranklin."

  Loren leaned midway across the table, dominating the space above Major Craig. "Allow me to be blunt, Major. MacFranklin is dead. I am the XO of this regiment now. You follow my lead. I will not adapt to you, either of you. I was put in this position for a reason. It is you who must change."

  Craig muttered under his breath, barely audible to those in the room. "This isn't the Capellan Confederation .. ."

  "You are correct," Loren returned. "Nor is it the same Fusiliers as before I assumed command. And this is the last time I will tolerate any insinuations about my past affiliations. Think on this—" Loren opened his sidearm holster and placed the Sunbeam laser pistol on the table in front of them. These two had sniped at him from behind long enough, doing everything they could to hurt his assimilation into the regiment. Their biggest gun in painting him as an outsider was Loren's previous affiliation with the Death Commandos.

  He knew what people thought about the Death Commandos, that they were ruthless fanatics trained to kill upon command. Loren decided it was time to take that reputation and use it to his advantage. Let them see that I'm willing to take any and all measures necessary. Let them understand that I'll neither yield nor let up. I want their respect, but for this mission, I'll take their fear.

  He scanned the room quickly and saw that Fraser's eyes were nearly twice their normal size and that Captain Lovat was squirming in his seat. Blakadar's mouth hung open in dismay, and Craig looked nervous about the fact that he too was wearing a pistol. "If this were a Death Commando unit, your actions would have been viewed as attempted mutiny. I would have the authority to either place you under arrest or eliminate you as a threat to the safety of t
he unit and to the Chancellor." Loren reholstered the weapon. "I'm not ashamed of what I did before becoming a Highlander. I don't expect you to understand that; I do expect you to show me respect, however."

  He had their attention now and wanted to get on with the real point of the meeting. "Now, gentlemen, I take it you've reviewed Case Granite." Case Granite was the name he'd given to the plan he'd drafted for the attack on Wayside V.

  There were quick nods. It was Captain Lovat who broke the tension. "Given the Jaguar fighting tactics, sir, I wonder if we shouldn't just drop right on top of their base and hit them fast. Seizing the base is critical to our long-term success on the planet. The Jaguars have shown the ability to formulate effective strategies when given the time to do so. If we drop onto the far side of Wayside V, as your plan has us doing, it gives them a chance to mount a pursuit, putting us on the defensive."

  "And your thoughts, Mister Craig?" Loren asked.

  "Intel has a good point. The Jaguars are known for their skill in offensive rather than defensive tactics. Your plan will give them the time and enough advance warning to mount an offensive operation against us. And if I read your intentions rightly, we're going to have to carry a latrine-load of supplies along with us. The way you've got it, we'll have to lure them out, outlast them, and then drive on their base."

  Loren nodded. "That's the idea and that's exactly why I want the 'Mech swaps we've been debating. The new 'Mechs won't require all the autocannon and missile reloads.

  "I'm counting on the Clans being blinded to our initial position because we'll land on the other side of the planet from, their base. And when they do come for us, we'll be the ones who control where and when they can engage us. That's the key to Case Granite. We must retain full and complete control of every facet of the mission at all times. Let them expend energy coming after us. Let them waste time trying to pin us down. Let them draw further away from their supply base. They can't just ignore us, they'll have to come after us. And when they do, we'll turn it against them at every chance."

  "Counter-punches?" Major Blakadar said.

  "Yes. We'll make them think they've got the upper hand, then frustrate them at every turn. And the more frustrated they get, the more likely they are to make mistakes. Look over the accounts of what happened during the operation on Luthien that Ruth Horner brought us. When the Smoke Jaguars are forced into fighting on anything but their own terms, they rush in blindly. That's our advantage."

  Loren closed his valise and looked at them squarely. "Know this. I really don't care, what you think of me personally. Remember what the Jaguars did to Edo on Turtle Bay. They destroyed the city, boiled it off the face of the planet in retaliation for a simple civilian uprising. The Wolves may be cunning. The Falcons may be ruthless, but the Jaguars are worse than that. They're vicious. They're relentless. And they stop at nothing."

  5

  The Fort Tara, Northwind

  The Chaos March

  15 May 3058

  "Colonel Stirling?"

  Cat Stirling recognized the voice of Cullen Craig, but she didn't look up immediately from the report she was studying. Her office was dark but for a reading lamp and the dim glow of two computer screens.

  "It's late, Major," she said, leaning back in her chair and rubbing at one temple as if it would somehow restore the vitality she'd possessed earlier in the day. "What brings you here at this hour?"

  Craig entered the office and closed the door behind him. "Sir, it's Major Jaffray .. . again."

  Cat Stirling's eyes narrowed slightly. "I see."

  "It's these new 'Mech assignments, sir."

  "What about them, Major?"

  "Well, it means requiring some of our people to switch BattleMechs only days before we're to leave Northwind. I realize we can use some of our travel time for simulator training, but I question the wisdom of pulling this switch right now. It's also going to be a lot of extra work. We'll have to load up the simulators and pull folks off leave to get them up to speed on their new 'Mechs. I think he's asking too much."

  "Do you believe the safety of the regiment is at risk because of this?" She templed her fingers and leaned back in her chair.

  "No, it's not that. It's just that the complaints from some of the men and women—"

  "Major, let me make one thing clear," she cut in. "This order was recommended by Major Jaffray and I fully endorse it. If the safety of the regiment is endangered, that's another story. But the day I reverse an order because of some gripes among the troops is the day I step down from command."

  She rose to her feet and leaned across the desk on her palms, voice rising with each word. "I never thought to see the day someone in my command would come to me with such a request. Remind your people that they are Northwind Highlanders and that these are orders, not requests. Jaffray speaks for me; he represents my intentions when it comes to the running of this unit. If anyone, including you, doesn't want to accept that, they're welcome to resign their commission right here and now. Otherwise they should pull themselves together and get to their duties. And I suggest that things will go a hell of a lot smoother if you start leading your battalion by setting an example rather than bringing me tales about the troops complaining about doing their jobs."

  Craig offered a weak salute and turned to leave the room, obviously shaken by her verbal lashing.

  Cat Stirling sat watching until he was all the way out before returning to her work. She knew Craig would go straight to Blackie with a report of this little meeting. And then the, word would spread quickly, if she knew her troops. It would make Jaffray's life a hell of a lot easier if everybody understood once and for all that she was behind him one hundred percent. The enemy was the Jaguars, not each other.

  Loren walked slowly up the winding path through Peace Park, near the center of Northwind's capital city of Tara. For centuries, despite the struggles and hardships of the Succession Wars, the park had remained untouched by the bloodshed and war that had consumed the Inner Sphere. Ironically, it was in this park named for peace that Loren and his new family had fought the Federated Commonwealth for control of Northwind last year. No longer a place commemorating peace alone, the park now represented the price of freedom for the Highlander regiments.

  Scars of the battle were still evident in places where coolant had poisoned the soil and left only dead grass, or where stray laser and PPC shots had burned the trees. The occasional statue was also damaged or battered. Loren often came here at night to walk, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, and to think.

  Another figure stood under one of the lights lining the walk. The shadows concealed the face, but Loren would have known her anywhere.

  Chastity Mulvaney walked toward him from the shadows and slid her arm around his waist. Then she matched her stride to his as they continued on slowly.

  "You're thinking of those blasted Clans again, aren't you?" Her voice was almost scolding.

  He nodded. "Training and studying the briefings can only do so much. The real test comes when we actually face them."

  "I was wrong about you when I first met you, Loren. Hell, I hated you. And unlike you, I have fought the Clans in my time. I almost didn't live to tell about it. One thing you've got to remember is that they're killing machines."

  "I'll survive the Jaguars, Chastity, Loren said, pulling her closer for a moment. "As much as the Clans are unknown to me, I am unknown to the Clans."

  She stopped walking and turned to face him. "Loren, you'll be confronting an enemy that's genetically created for the sole purpose of warfare. From the time of their birth they're raised in sibling companies that hone their combat skills. They're like the old Spartans ... the weak are cast out and the strong become warriors.

  "I know you're very good—hell, you may be one of the best. I've never met anyone with such a fast-thinking tactical mind. But this is different. You're going to have to call on skills and capabilities that are definitely in you but that you don't like to use. I'm telling you now y
ou're going to need every trick you've got to survive and defeat these Jaguars."

  "I'm not afraid of the Jaguars," Loren said.

  "I know that," she returned. "But you don't make use of your political skills even though you could. Once you get to Wayside, you'd better be ready to use politics, deception, or anything else to win."

  "Politics?" Loren laughed softly, and gave her an affectionate squeeze. "We're going after the Smoke Jaguars on an isolated world in the Deep Periphery. There's no politics out there."

  She stopped again and took both his hands in hers. "Listen to me, Loren. This isn't a joke. You yourself have been telling me about Blakadar and Craig's maneuverings behind your back. I've been the XO for MacLeod's Regiment for years now. Trust me, it gets worse when you're on a mission. And let's not forget that none of us are experienced at dealing with a PSL. You're going to need political savvy to keep him from getting in your hair or in your way."

  Loren knew she was right about the Professional Soldiery Liaison. The Kuritas usually sent a representative as a watchdog over their interests anytime they hired mercenaries. The mistrust of mercenary units was still strong within the Combine military, despite the fact that Theodore Kurita had no choice but to use them.

  She nodded more to herself than him. "Trust me, Loren. And when you're out there, far away from me and Northwind and the rest of the Highlanders, try and remember what I'm telling you now."

  Loren shook his head in mock despair, then gave her a hug. "Don't worry about me, Chastity Mulvaney. Smoke Jaguars or no Smoke Jaguars, you're not going to get rid of me that easy."

  They laughed together then, and continued walking hand in hand down the shadowy, tree-lined path of Peace Park.