Heir to the Dragon

by Robert N. Charrette

  The method was expensive, but more secure and dependable than the ComStar-controlled Hyperpulse Generators that carried normal interstellar communications. Though the HPG was quick, a message might sit at a ComStar station for weeks until a batch accumulated. Cutting ComStar out of the loop had also enabled the Steiner-Davion Alliance to achieve the surprise that had so shocked the Draconis Combine. But the system meant short crews. Secrecy had demanded that military crews be shifted to the civilian ships requisitioned for the war. Garrett knew it was necessary, but his body objected. He was getting too old for constant duty watch.

  "Just what are you talking about, Hans?"

  "I've sent Leutnant Morrison out in the Lucifer. He's got Alaric Gerhardt with him. Morrison can put into their Aerospace Fighter bay easier than they can dock with us. Once Alaric is aboard, he can eyeball the ship in. I thought the Carson would be safer that way; we don't have to worry about damage from an incompetent docking."

  "A lot of trouble for a ground-bound general looking to hitch a ride to HQ."

  "If it were only a colonel, we wouldn't be making the effort, right?"

  "Astute, Hans. We must always pay attention to the politics of rank." Garrett slipped free of the bunk straps and glided across the compartment, elegant and nimble in the microgravity despite his age and artificial leg. "I'm going to shower and grab a bite before docking. We should probably have the whole crew on hand. Generals like a proper reception."

  "Aye, Captain."

  * * *

  Two hours later, Garrett and Alders stood in the cargo well, near the docking collar hatch. The other six members of the crew fidgeted nearby. Alders only had to shout once to get them to stop their grumbling about unnecessary shows for unnecessary generals. Garrett knew that their lack of respect for the army was traditional rather than personal, but still hoped that they wouldn't embarrass him too much in front of the visiting officer.

  The Kit Carson shuddered from the impact of the DropShip in the collar. Garrett made a mental note to chew out Gerhardt for his substandard performance. The soles of Alder's grip shoes made sucking sounds as he stepped forward to the hatch controls. There was a slight hiss as the panels of the hatch began to dilate, and the rank odor typical of an old Union Class DropShip wafted over the waiting JumpShip crew, a gift of the slightly higher air pressure on the incoming ship.

  The growing circle of the open hatchway was only half-size when a black-clad figure shot through it in a dive impossible in gravity. The red-haired man struck Alders amidships, ripping his suction soles free from the decking and sending both men tumbling toward the far bulkhead.

  A second figure thrust into the Carson. This one expertly banked off the upper bulkhead of the short passageway connecting the hatch to the cargo well. With the ease of a person used to zero-gravity acrobatics, the black-garbed figure landed in a crouch in front of Garrett. The Captain recognized that this one was a woman, and a beautiful one, before his eyes riveted on the shining sword she extended to touch his throat.

  "The point is sharp enough to penetrate before the reaction takes you away from me, Captain," she said softly. "Surrender and spare your life."

  Garrett heard a rustling behind him as the crew began to react. Before he could think about turning, the woman raised her left hand. Her laser pistol hissed a single pulse and he heard the gurgle of a dying man. Her eyes never left his own.

  "Stand fast," he stammered. The woman smiled.

  "The Dragon rewards wisdom," she said, lowering her sword. "Walk carefully to the bulkhead with your men."

  Garrett complied. Biting his lip, he saw Bernhardt floating lifeless near the center of the cargo well, a slugthrower drifting gently from her outstretched hand. The red-headed intruder stood over Alder's limp body, holding it to the deck with a foot on the man's head. The intruder menaced the survivors with a vicious KA-23 subgun. The Kuritan was braced to absorb any recoil should he fire his weapon.

  The man flashed Garrett a smile, then turned to the woman. "Arigato, Tomoe-san. I didn't see the one with the pistol."

  "Do itashi mashite," she shrugged. The woman faced the open hatch and called out in Japanese words that Garrett recognized as an all-clear signal.

  A tall figure, immaculately clad in a Combine Mech-Warrior jumpsuit, stepped through the docking collar hatch. The apple-green triple bars of a Tai-sa flashed on his collar. The officer made a slight bow.

  "Good day, Captain. Let me be the first to welcome your ship into the Combine navy. Kindly prepare for jump. I'm in a bit of a hurry."

  29

  Nevcason, South Nantuo, Vega

  Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine

  16 October 3028

  Theodore checked his ringwatch and put down his copy of Sun Tzu's Ping Fa. The dog-eared, leather-bound volume looked strangely out of place among the datadisks and slick sheets covering the work desk. He picked up two of the disks and slipped them into a pocket of his jumpsuit. Undecided, he hesitated a moment, then slid his two swords into his sash. Some formality might be in order, for his subordinate regimental commanders both held higher military ranks than he did. Only his position as Heir-Designate allowed him to command them. He left the small study and walked down the hall to the conference room.

  Tai-sho Michael Heise of the Second Legion was already there, field-stripping his personal sidearm while he waited. His black duty uniform was rumpled and spotted by oil dribbling from the rag he used to clean his weapon. Heise looked up as Theodore entered the room.

  "Konnichi wa, Kurita-sama," he said from his seat. "Recovered from our inadvertent reception?"

  "Quite, thank you. I had expected Lyrans to be hunting me, not Kuritans."

  Heise snorted. "Gotta expect that when you come calling in a DropShip with the Steiner fist on it. Lucky the AeroJocks pulled back and let you land when you didn't return their fire. I would have had a hell of time explaining to the Coordinator how I ignored his son's broadcasts and had his DropShip blasted out of the sky."

  "You acted with understandable caution and suspicion, Tai-sho. None can fault you for that."

  "I don't think the Coordinator would've seen it that way."

  "Then perhaps you are the lucky one," Theodore suggested. "Where is Sho-sho Nordica?"

  "Chris was a little late leaving the Fourteenth, something about turning back a probe from Third Guard. She should be here in a few minutes."

  "So ka. What's the latest from the field?"

  "Pretty quiet at the moment," Heise announced as he activated the holotank that dominated the small room. The milky tank came to life, darkening to the black of space, a globe of Vega floating in the center of its volume. The world-girdling ocean appeared a uniform green, while the three continents were painted in gold. The sphere rotated until the south pole was uppermost and sank through the base. The vast expanse of the enormous South Nantuo continent spread out to fill the bottom of the tank. As it did so, mountains rose from the undifferentiated surface and rivers appeared, cutting valleys and spreading flood plains as if all geological time had been compressed to a few seconds. The isthmus to North Nantuo and the southern tip of Forsiar showed at one edge of the tank, but South Nantuo and its bordering seas filled most of the space.

  Heise touched a control, and military data began to appear on the map surface. Light blue shading, representing territory under the sway of the Steiner invaders, covered most of the neighboring continents. South Nantuo was marked as well, a blue swath filling much of the space between the Great Desert of Tears and the Trebason mountains. Darker blue icons marked the dispositions of the two dozen Steiner military units in the field. The most dangerous unit, the Third Lyran Guard BattleMech Regiment, was highlighted in its position just to the west of the Roccer-Halo line. The red icons of the Kurita forces stood before the Guard in an arc, sealing off the eastern end of the bulge that held the planetary capital of Nevcason. Most of the forty regiments of conventional forces were scattered across the continent, holding other vital p
ositions, waiting for the Lyran advance to reach their defensive zones. Only the Legion, one armored regiment, and a half-dozen infantry regiments defended the lowlands around Nevcason. The Second Legion of Vega held the northern flank. To the south, the Fourteenth Legion was spread out among the mining camps of the De Zerber region.

  "As you know, we've heard nothing from North Nantuo or Forsiar since the end of September. Our scouts have just identified elements of the Thirty-third Lyran Armored Guard moving through Al Aldurban, southwest of De Zerber. Since the Thirty-third was involved in the initial drops of the Forsiar coast and was later observed during the fall of Qaterrani on North Nantuo, we must presume that all organized military resistance on those continents is ended. We can expect more Lyrans soon."

  "This was not unanticipated," Theodore said.

  "Anticipation never stopped a tank."

  Theodore started to retort that anticipation had, indeed, stopped many a tank. A good commander could halt an enemy by anticipating his actions and rendering them useless before the enemy could carry them out. But it seemed futile to make the point. Heise had seemed overjoyed to see Theodore emerge from the Arctic Fox, but the officer's subsequent manner led Theodore to believe that the man's happiness was due more to being relieved of responsibility for the planet's fate than to any expectation of success under Theodore's guidance. Theodore was disappointed in Heise, who had seemed much livelier and optimistic during earlier visits to Vega. He hoped that Sho-sho Nordica was not infected by Heise's pessimism.

  The loud bang of a wooden door against the wall announced Nordica's arrival. Theodore turned to watch the tall blond woman, skin glistening with sweat, enter the room. She wore a cooling jacket and her normally curly locks were plastered down with sweat, sure signs that she had just exited her 'Mech.

  Christine Nordica strode up to Theodore, hand outstretched. "Welcome back to Vega, Tai-sa." she said, pumping his arm as she spoke. "I want to say that I think it was real audacious the way you conned the Elsies into giving you a JumpShip. I always said that you'd more than live up to your advance billing."

  "What you said was that nobody could be that bad," Heise scoffed.

  "Close your mouth, Mike, or your smart remarks are gonna get you a fist in it."

  "At ease, senshi" Theodore said, laying a hand on Heise's shoulder to restrain him before he could stand. "This is no time for bickering among ourselves."

  "Well, anyway," Nordica insisted. "I thought you did real good."

  "I was fortunate. The Lyrans were so secure in their arrogance that we were able to gull them into believing we were one of their own DropShips. Convincing the captain to take us to the Konstance system was easy compared to getting him to recharge the JumpShip's Kearney-Fuchida drives from the fusion plant in order to complete the transit to Vega. Between the stress that put on the hyperdrive and the pirate point transit point I demanded, he was sure we would be lost to hyperspace. The ship was damaged, but we made a timely arrival here at Vega." Theodore shrugged. "That is history now, and we must deal with the future. I've already been over the situation with Tai-sho Heise."

  "Well, he ain't got no manners, but he's got it together. Between him and the stuff I heard you got from the Elsies, you should have a pretty good idea of the situation."

  "It's true we were fortunate enough to capture one of their 'Pony Express' JumpShips and recover a substantial amount of military data from its computers. But unit dispositions are not enough. I want to know what you think of the opposition."

  Nordica laughed despairingly. "You've read the reports and seen what they've done here on Vega. You've seen our supply situation as well. We're on the slide down, unless you've come up with something brilliant."

  "I do have a few ideas, but first I want your evaluation of Leutnant-General Finnan. He is the overall commander as well as leader of the Third Guard, and I've been informed that you know him."

  Nordica stiffened, hooding her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "Yes you do," Theodore said softly.."As I said before, we must deal with the future. Your past is unimportant." Seeing that Nordica was still reluctant to speak, Theodore added, "You are of the Dragon now, Sho-sho, and the Dragon protects its own. Your knowledge of his character could help me know what to expect from him as commander of the enemy." Nordica raised a hand to her mouth, biting gently into the web between her thumb and fingers. With a sigh, she raised her eyes and stared into Theodore's. After several heartbeats, she dropped her gaze again.

  "All right," she said. "He's a real hard-liner, fanatically loyal to House Steiner and blind to anything said against them. He takes the Third Guards' nickname very seriously. They're called 'The Ever-sworded Third,' and he wears an antique broadsword all the time, even in his 'Mech. He's a little weird that way."

  Her voice dropped on the last words. Theodore followed her eyeline to the swords in his sash.

  "No offense taken, Sho-sho," he said. "Please continue."

  "He must have come here straight from Tharkad. He's gonna be real uncomfortable with the weather here, but he's a vet and won't let that affect his judgment. He calls his troops 'Teutonic heroes,' and they're as fanatical as he is. They're Steiner mainline all the way."

  "So ka. You would assess him as a traditional Steiner leader?"

  "Well ..." she began. "Yeah, sure."

  "Very good," Theodore said, satisfied. He slipped a disk into the holotable and tapped at the control keyboard. Red Kurita icons shifted to new positions, and faint orange arrows appeared, spearing outward toward the Steiner dispositions.

  "These are the sites where we attack tomorrow."

  The Legion officers studied the map, Heise licked dry lips and Nordica chewing on a finger. She asked for a replay of the planned attack and asked terse questions while Heise computed figures on his handset. After a few minutes, Heise furrowed his brow and raised his head from his computations.

  "The attacks you propose will burn all the expendables we have left," he objected.

  "That's true," Theodore conceded easily. "But soon or late, those supplies will be gone, whether we attack or not. Toujours I'audace, mon General! We should be able to acquire some more from the Lyrans as we push, them back."

  "It's a big gamble," Nordica said, running the tip of her tongue back and forth across her upper lip. Her face showed her worry.

  "You're the one who called me audacious."

  "Yeah, I did."

  "Well, audacity is a virtue of the Dragon. Do you have the courage to go along?"

  Nordica bridled. Theodore guessed that she assumed he was slighting her courage because she was a woman. He knew better; Tomoe had taught him much about a woman's capacity for courage.

  "I'll match you stride for stride, buster," Nordica ground out.

  "Dekashita!" Theodore said with a grin. "We'll give the Lyrans a run."

  30

  Steiner Supply Depot, Cochus, Vega

  Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine

  17 October 3028

  Fuhito cursed the weather, shivering as a cold trickle of rain found its way past his collar to run down his back. Thunder answered his words, reminding him that the weather was his friend. He calmed his mind, seeking to ignore the cold and wet. He had just put the discomfort from his mind when a Striker light tank rolled by and deluged him as its wheels hit a deep puddle.

  Fuhito stepped back directly into a Steiner soldier marching alongside the column. The Lyran, the leutnant in charge of the guard detachment, shoved Fuhito away with a rough oath and said something in German. Fuhito only caught the name Kurita and the ill-tempered tone, but he recognized it as an insult.

  A poke in the back from one of his companions reminded him to act cowed. He snatched a glance backward and caught a slight head shake from Ninyu Kerai. Though Fuhito generally found Kerai disturbing in some obscure way, he knew the man was right now. Needing cheap labor, the Lyrans had called on the populace with threats and empty promises to get it. Fuhito
and the other disguised Kurita soldiers were supposed to be part of this group of people rounded up from the countryside by the Steiner invaders. To continue to hide safely among the laborers, they had to avoid suspicion. If one of the Lyrans got nosy and searched them, all would be lost. The patriots who had thrown in with the Kuritans for this mission would be shot as spies. The soldiers, even though they wore their DCMS tans under their rain ponchos, would likely receive the same reward.

  "Move it, you malingerers! I don't plan to spend my night with you wetbacks," the Lyran leutnant snarled, his temper as foul as the weather. The officer shoved his laser carbine into the back of one of the locals, urging the frightened woman forward. "Come on, come on! The sooner you get to the compound, the sooner you get out of the rain."

  The ragged line of miserable men and women trudged on.

  Finally, they reached the gate to the Lyran supply compound at Cochus. It was a good site, ideally positioned to support the advance of the Third Lyran Guards against the capital. Supplies could be landed safely on Forsiar and ferried across to the city piers. From the coastal city, the Lyrans would send the supplies out by truck along the main highway, by monotrack to railheads at strategic locations, or by military carrier to almost anywhere else.

  Huddling in rain, the Kurita soldiers and the conscript labor among whom they hid waited for their masters. The footsoldiers gathered under the leaky canopy that served as a gatehouse to conduct their business in relative comfort. Fuhito heard the compound guards complaining about the tardiness of their relief. He listened in surprise as the guard against whom he had stumbled suggested that the complainers take matters into their own hands and go kick their replacements' butts out of the barracks.

  Fuhito found the concept of abandoning one's duty post because of personal discomfort to be treasonous, unthinkable. But these Lyrans were soft, always thinking of their own comfort. And they were cocky, too assured of being safe so far behind the lines. Only a pair of Strikers, buttoned up against the weather, stood sentry. Apparently, their crews were unwilling to get wet simply to watch over a bunch of submissive laborers. Soft.