Bee Malthus climbed out first, his bearded face set into its normal dour expression. Malthus was followed by a point of Elementals in full armor, two dragging a man between them. Malthus turned and said something to the Elementals and they released the man.
Good.
The party walked toward her, Malthus and the terrorist side by side, the Elementals a few paces behind, at least three lasers trained on the Apostican's body.
Malvina was glad to see her soldiers were not being complacent, though she would kill the first Elemental who fired on the prisoner.
The terrorist was tall and slender-built, though she could see his arms rippled with muscles. His wild black hair was sprinkled with silver, and he wore a matching beard. His bronze skin was obviously well acquainted with the sun. He wore a loose-fitting white tunic, brown denim work pants, and, khaki combat boots. He carried his body relaxed, as if he were waiting only for the right moment to spring in any direction. If she gave him even the slightest opening, he would kill her.
Malvina smiled. She felt a stirring deep within herself. Ah, if only there were time.
When he was four meters away, an Elemental stepped forward and grabbed the man's shoulder, jerking him to a stop.
The man glanced back and then turned to look at her. "Malvina Hazen."
Malvina took a step forward. "Nicholas Spanner."
"I do not expect mercy from you," said the man. "I am ready to die. Even my wife and children are ready for my death. But before you kill me, let me just say that I'm a freedom fighter. You will never conquer Apostica."
"You are a terrorist," said Malvina. "And I have already conquered Apostica."
An insolent smile flashed across Spanner's face, his teeth very white against his deep tan. "Then why are we talking?" "I legally conquered Apostica the moment the Lyran garrison surrendered to my forces. Partisan warfare will not be tolerated."
"We are not bound by Clan laws," said Spanner. "And we are not asking for your tolerance."
Malthus looked worried, but Malvina had no intention of killing the terrorist, however much Spanner baited her.
"Well, we shall see," said Malvina. "Normally when Clans face terrorists on conquered worlds, a village or city is selected near the site of the terrorist attack. Some percentage of the population is slaughtered to send the message that terrorism will not be tolerated. But here on Apostica—"
"Here on Apostica there are very few villages and cities and none near the location of partisan activity. Most people live hidden in caves or underground buildings, very difficult for an army on the move to find and dig out."
"True," admitted Malvina.
"Have we finally found a flaw in your Mongol doctrine? Terror only works when you can find a population to terrorize."
Malvina laughed out loud. "You are amusing, Nicholas. Truly I will miss you." She leaned towards him. "I have a thermonuclear device. Several actually."
Malthus frowned, surprised. Confused.
"That's great," Spanner sneered. "Should work real well against a dispersed population already living in what amounts to underground bomb shelters."
"So there's nothing we can do," she whispered.
He shrugged. "You can kill me. And you can attack the next world on your list. But you will never subdue Apostica. You will always have an enemy at your back. We will bleed you in the desert. Pour all of Jade Falcon into this world if you like. We will never surrender."
Malvina nodded. "You know, I believe you." She pulled a canteen from her hip, unscrewed the cap, and took a long pull. She gasped when she was done, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Oh, that is good. It occurs to me that Apostica is a thirsty world, Nicholas Spanner. Most of
your water is mined from comet nuclei. Since I control the approaches to your world, that water is gone, of course. But there is ground water, too, located in eighty-three principal aquifers across the face of the world."
The terrorist said nothing. Malvina was gratified to see he looked worried.
"I had engineers from my scientist caste disassemble a score of nuclear devices," she said softly. "The atomic trigger is a material called plutonium-239. It is extremely toxic and extremely persistent." She glanced at Malthus. "What is the half-life of plutonium-239, Beckett?"
He frowned. "I believe it is twenty-four thousand years, Chingis Khan."
"And what are the symptoms of radiation poisoning?"
Malthus drew a deep breath. "Fatigue, loss of appetite, hair loss, vomiting, loose skin, weight loss, loose teeth, vomiting blood." He paused. "Death."
Nicholas Spanner was pale under his deep tan. "You wouldn't," he whispered.
"Really?" she said. "That is what you are pinning your hopes on."
"1-1 surrender. The partisan attacks will stop. I'll give you whatever—"
"It is too late for that," said Malvina. "We have already poisoned every aquifer on the planet. We will tell the people what is in the water, of course. But after awhile they will drink anyway, even knowing about the plutonium, because they will be so thirsty." She turned and winged her canteen out into the desert night. "And nothing is worse than being thirsty."
She turned to look at Nicholas Spanner. "You said your wife and children were ready for your death. Are you ready for theirs?"
He lunged at her, but the Elementals were ready. They knocked him to the ground before he could take a second step. He struggled against their hold, though he might as well have fought against a mountain. "You monster."
"Neg, Nicholas Spanner. I am not the monster. You did this when you resisted me. This is the lesson of the Mongol doctrine."
The Elementals jerked him to his feet.
"But I do have some good news for you. My forces have caught a DropShip trying to escape this world. We have informed the captain he is free to leave—if he takes you with him. So go. You are free. And please. Tell the Commonwealth what transpired here."
She jerked her head and the Elementals dragged the sobbing man off to the Hasek.
Malthus lingered for a moment.
"You have something to say, quiaff?"
"Malvina," he whispered. "An entire world?"
She smiled. She always knew her object lessons were particularly effective when she managed to shock Malthus. "If this entire planet dies, Khan Malthus, I can be certain I leave no enemy at my back."
Atlantica Mountain Park
Sargasso, Coventry Military Province
Lyran Commonwealth
8 July 3142
Star Colonel Yaroslav, commanding officer of Gamma Galaxy's Ninth Talon Cluster stalked his Turkina up a slim ribbon of ferrocrete that climbed into the sky. On his left was a steep rock wall, shale cracked by time and wind and rain, shattered rock strewn across the narrow road by a careless god.
On his right, the land sloped away beneath the shade of Douglas fir and Scotch pine and silver spruce. Yaroslav saw a stream twisting through the forest, cutting across earth too shaded to grow grass, bubbling into white froth when it punched past a rock. Once he came around a corner and saw a jerk of motion to his right. He swiveled his torso and almost let go with his LB 5-X autocannons and his PPCs—before he saw the deer.
He was engaged in a dangerous—some would say reckless- maneuver. His Cluster moved up, strung out behind him in a long column on a road that could barely support the weight of his assault 'Mech. His beloved Turkina left talon-shaped footprints in the ferrocrete. If his Cluster were flanked they would have a difficult time fighting from their current position, and they would have a difficult time forming up into something better.
But what others might call reckless Yaroslav chose to see as efficient. He was facing stravag planetary militia, mewling freebirths little better than bandits. He did not expect them to flank his column.
He expected them to run for their lives.
The light clatter of muffled helo blades won his attention. He glanced right and saw a Warrior H8 painted in forest camo with blue trim skimming along the tr
eetops aimed at his column's right quarter. Working hard not to be seen.
Yaroslav felt his pulse to quicken. He had ordered his VTOLs to remain hidden unless they had something to report.
"Aero Six, Jade One." "Go ahead, Aero Six."
"I am getting magscan contacts in the next valley."
Yaroslav nodded to himself. Finally. BattleMechs were huge hunks of steel massing anywhere from twenty to a hundred tons. Whenever that much ferrous material crossed a magnetic line of force it generated an electrical current.
One that could be detected by MAD gear.
"This is the militia, quiaff?"
"I do not know. Star Colonel. I have negative visual."
"Very well, fall back behind the column so your presence does not spook the surats."
"As ordered. Star Colonel."
And that was why Star Commander Tristan would never rise above his current station. Of course it was the militia. Yaroslav did not need a visual to tell him that.
Who else could it be?
Sargasso was a little world of no significance other than its location on the road to Coventry. Lyran troops, so badly beaten by the Wolves the year before, were now spread out all across Commonwealth's coreward border desperately trying to stem three separate Falcon thrusts. The Dragoons had been drawn into the murky politics of the Draconis Reach, Malvina Hazen raced to Timkovichi to smash the heart of the Kell Hounds, and the cowardly Wolf Exiles hid on Arc-Royal. Unwilling to face their own brothers in last-year's conflict, Yaroslav knew they would never dare stand up to his Jade Falcons. This little world could bleat all it wanted for reinforcement, but no one would come.
There was no one left.
Yaroslav glanced at the Park Service map he had uploaded to his Turkina's tactical computer before following the militia into the mountains. He overlaid it with a topo map. Five or six klicks away, the road flattened at its highest point and then dipped, following the valley's rim. The park map showed the symbol for a scenic lookout, which was the Spheroid way of identifying a good place to recon the valley below.
In less than ten minutes he would confirm Aero Six's report. No doubt that would be the beginning of the end for this world. Yaroslav had already conquered two Lyran worlds and he was eagerly looking forward to taking a third.
During the Rending that had smashed Clan Jade Falcon, Yaroslav had sided with Jana Pryde over Khan Malvina Hazen. He had done so because he had been ashamed of the Mongol doctrine. It was beneath a Clanner to use tactics of terror.
But now Yaroslav had to admit the Mongol doctrine quickly convinced Spheroids to lay down their arms. It reduced the size of garrisons needed to hold Lyran worlds, leaving more troops for fighting.
Yaroslav looked into his future and saw more conquests to be added to his Codex, the chance to earn a Bloodname, and perhaps a Galaxy of his own to command. Who would not follow the banner of a leader whose tactics promised such victories?
He turned a corner and saw the road flattening out before him.
"All Jade Falcons, Jade One. Stand by your weapons. On my order we will execute a right oblique and charge down into the valley, fanning out into a line abreast as we reach the bottom of the slope."
His trinary commanders acknowledged his orders.
Yaroslav reached the top of the road and turned to look down into the valley. A long, gently sloping hill opened into a plain of emerald grass ringed by heavy forest. His trained eye picked out gashes in the grass, earthen scars that suggested the passage of heavy machines. And he saw movement in the trees. There was something down there.
And it was no deer.
He had found the Sargasso Planetary Militia. He could not pick out individual machines, but they should not be hard to find. The fools had fled so fast they had not had time to paint over their gaudy parade colors: pale yellow with royal blue trim.
Soon those ridiculous colors would be scoured from their machines.
Yaroslav triggered his all-unit channel and issued a shrill Falcon's cry. Then he charged down the hill, his troops following him like a wave.
Halfway down the hill he saw a Wolfhound stalk out of the forest. Yaroslav was startled to see that the 'Mech was not painted in militia colors. It was reddish-brown with slate highlights. Beneath the cockpit was an emblem: a red Wolf head backed by an eight-point star.
The symbol of Clan-Wolf-in-Exile.
A Warhammer stalked out from the trees next, followed by an Atlas and a Defiance. Machines boiled out of the forest.
Star Colonel Yaroslav's gut suddenly tightened.
Maybe this would not be quite so easy as he had thought.
Summer Veldt
Timkovichi, Coventry Military Province
Lyran Commonwealth
15 August 3142
From the top of the Summer Mountain, Malvina Hazen looked out on the troublesome world of Timkovichi. Two forces met on a wide flat plain, the tropical grasses high enough to brush a BattleMech's knee.
She pressed a pair of binoculars to her face and settled on a red Awesome with black trim. The great machine surged forward and lashed into a Clan Hell's Horses Demon wheeled tank painted gray with black trim.
The Awesome's particle projection cannon flayed armor from the Demon, opening huge rents in the tank's protection that the BattleMech exploited with its lasers. A gout of orange fire ballooned from the tank as the laser fire ignited a secondary explosion.
The Awesome stalked forward to find more prey.
Freebirth! What circle of hell had spat out the Kell Hounds?
Timkovichi was supposed to be an easy world, a nothing world. And yet, the Kell Hounds would not give it up. Their stubbornness had thrown her entire invasion plan into delay. Incukalns waited for her assault, but as long as the Hounds kept the Horses' Beta Galaxy tied up, she dared not begin.
The Hell Hounds boxed her up on Timkovichi. The Wolves- in-Exile surged out of Arc-Royal, throwing themselves in the path of her invasion. Perhaps worst of all, Clan Wolf crouched in their newly formed empire, ready to pounce. If they struck across the Lyrans' lightly defended rimward border they would race toward Tharkad. And in this race there was no prize for second place. On every side she was beset by dogs, baying packs of curs that yelped and tore at their betters.
The communicator at her belt crackled. She lifted it to her lips. "This is Anglico."
Anglico. Air and Naval Gun Liaison Controller. An ancient phrase from a long-dead Terran nation known for projecting naval power ashore.
"Anglico, this is Red Talon. Holding station, awaiting NGFS directions."
Malvina raised her binoculars again and found the Awesome again. She centered it in her viewfinder and pressed a red button, bouncing a needle-thin laser off her target, the binoculars measuring the beam's return. Emerald numbers flashed in her view.
"Depression: four six point two. Bearing two five four true. Range to target: one four point three three thousand." And then using another ancient phrase: "Red Talon, you are weapons free."
Somewhere high overhead the Aegis-cass heavy cruiser was rolling in space, bringing its starboard batteries to bear. Talon's Tactical Action Officer was working through a trigonometric problem, joining the spherical coordinates she had just given him to her constantly updated GPS position to develop a firing solution.
She dropped her binoculars and slipped on dark goggles.
The Exiles and the Wolves would still need to be dealt with, of course, as well as the balance of the Kell Hounds, but the force down on that plain represented the bulk of the mercenary unit's command staff.
It was a very good beginning.
Malvina felt a twinge of guilt for what was about to happen to the Horses' Beta Galaxy, but then they had failed her. They had not pushed the Kell Hounds off the planet. Such failure deserved punishment.
Besides, they called themselves The Apocalypse.
Her operation would simply give them a first-hand understanding of what that word really meant.
"Anglic
o, Talon. Take cover. Weapons release in five."
Malvina did not move.
A column of emerald fire split the sky, burning her eyes even through the dark goggles. Even from more than fourteen klicks the lasers' shriek stabbed into her ears like ice picks. Designed to punch through the tough hide of a WarShip, naval-grade lasers were among the most powerful weapons man had ever created.
The Awesome took a direct hit and just melted away.
Green fire swept across the field like a savage wind, killing friend and enemy alike, burning vehicles and BattleMechs down to nothing. It did not look like a naval attack.
It looked like the wrath of God.
Tears streamed down Malvina's face as she watched. Whether their source was her glorious emotions or the injury done to her eyes, she did not know. Such power. She suddenly felt an electric thrill of desire crackle through her body.
She reached out a hand, wanting to touch the carnage.
And hold it inside her.
Gienah Weltrat
Alliago City
Gienah, Wolf Empire
24 November 3142
Before Alaric Wolf had come to Gienah, the planet's capitol had been a magnificent structure. In English, the word weltrat meant literally "world council." Gienah's Weltrat had been the planet's legislative seat. Its facade was faced in white marble, its grand, neoclassical roof supported by Doric columns, its two wings separated by a large rotunda set beneath a golden dome.
But war is never kind to treasures.
A Lyran Spider stationed at the Weltrat to defend the legislature had jumped away from a Tundra Wolf stalking toward it. The Wolf pilot had hit the retreating light 'Mech with a flight of LRMs, taking out the Spider's jump jets and cutting its flight drastically short.
The BattleMech assigned to defend the capitol had instead smashed into the building's west wing. Alaric had seen to it that the Spider was repaired and pressed into service, this time under Wolf colors.
The building he had not bothered to fix.
A Bonfire of Worlds Page 23
