Once her people had unloaded from the transports that brought them to the palace, Danai marched at the head of her columns, everyone keeping step, even the ambassador and his people. The marchers at the front of the left and right columns carried the colors of the Capellan Confederation, gently flapping in the breeze. They passed between two rows of Oriente soldiers who stood at attention, weapons resting on their shoulders. Danai kept her eyes fixed on the granite steps ahead, leading to the double doors of the Amur Palace.
She walked up the steps, enjoying the sharp click of her boots on the stone. Then she passed from the bright light of day to the relative dimness inside. Compared to the imposing stone exterior, the palace's foyer was a simple affair, low-ceilinged, plaster walls covered with historic artwork, subtly lit by fixtures hidden around the perimeter of the ceiling. Three uniformed men in Oriente colors stood in front of a sliding metal door opposite the entrance.
"Please continue this way," one of them said as Danai and her people entered. The door behind them slid open, and Danai continued through without breaking stride.
There were more stone steps on the other side, these ascending five meters to a long hallway with an arched ceiling. Sunlight streamed through windows set in the stone roof, falling upon a series of holograms and artifacts of the Oriente Protectorate's past and present. Danai was particularly impressed by a grand painting, at least seven meters long, showing the untamed rain forests of Oriente as the first settlers arrived. The smallness of the people compared to the vastness of nature shown in the painting said much about the stubbornness of the Oriente people and of their unwillingness to give in to intimidating and overwhelming surroundings. The chancellor had given Danai a little extra leverage in that direction, a way to make Jessica Marik feel as threatened as those first settlers in the jungle. But Danai thought the captain-general would be as likely to cave to the pressure as those settlers had been. Intimidation might not be the strongest weapon in her arsenal—and if so, she'd have to determine what her other weapons might be.
The hallway brought them to the Amur Palace throne room, which had a very different feel from its Capellan equivalent. The first things she noticed were the padded chairs, upholstered in purple, that lined the walls, indicating that people other than the captain-general were allowed to sit when visiting the room. Danai did not believe she would be taking advantage of the chairs on this visit, but it was nice to know they were there.
She also noticed that the throne, such as it was, looked only slightly nicer than the other chairs and was not elevated at all. Jessica Marik and her husband, Philip Hughes, stood in front of those chairs, both smiling warmly. The middle of the room had a thick burgundy rug that looked as if it was there for comfort rather than to impress visitors. All in all, the throne room looked inviting, a concept that likely would have given the Capellan chancellor fits.
Danai brought her procession to a halt, and was both pleased and somewhat embarrassed to see that her entourage outnumbered the Oriente folk in the room by a solid five-to-one ratio. Besides Jessica Marik and her husband, there were two soldiers by the door and two flanking the throne.
"Welcome, Danai," Captain-General Marik said, eschewing formality from the get-go. "We're glad to see you. We've made arrangements for you and your people to be very comfortable during your stay."
"Thank you, Captain-General. You're too kind."
"You know, of course, that I will be happy to speak with you at any time, but I imagine you would like to get settled first. I can have you shown to your quarters."
Danai had planned a formal greeting speech, but given the tenor set by Jessica Marik, she dispensed with it. "Thank you, Captain-General. That's very kind of you.
I look forward to our discussions later on. If you'd allow me to make some brief introductions—this is Sang-wei Clara Parks, my executive officer; Sang-wei Sandra Sung, my tactical officer; and Sang-wei Jacyn Bell, my sergeant at arms."
"I'm honored to meet you." Then a small corner of Jessica's mouth curled into a sly grin. "And who are all the rest of these people?"
Danai knew this was a light jab from Jessica, but she didn't feel the impact. Numb as Danai was from the revelation in the chancellor's holovid, Jessica Marik would have to hit much harder than that if she wanted to leave a mark.
"Some of them are my aides and staff," Danai said. "And some of them came with me to help me make a good entrance."
Jessica laughed. "It worked," she said. "You looked positively grand marching to the capital. I've always said making a good entrance is one of the keys to good leadership."
"I've never heard you say that." her husband said.
"Then I'm going to start saying it," Jessica said primly. "Anyway, Fern Beecher, my hospitality director, will show you to your rooms. We have space for two of you in the palace, while the rest of your group will be staying next to the DropPort."
"Thank you, Captain-General."
Beecher, a tall woman with a helmet of steel grey hair, entered the throne room on cue and showed Danai out. Once they were out of the throne room, everyone but Danai and Clara left the palace—the bulk of the retinue had left the DropPort only to return once the show was over.
Danai and Clara were shown to a matching set of pleasant rooms: a sizeable bed on a royal blue carpet, a sitting room with a square wooden table and a large desk with a terminal, and just about any amenity that could be squeezed into the space. The chambers were considerably better than the DropShip they'd come in on. and even a generous step up from her private quarters on the JumpShip. She was several jumps away from the chancellor, she had a comfortable place to stay and she would be able to get together with Nikol, who might be the only person in the Inner Sphere without ulterior motives when they spoke together. She knew she had to succeed in her mission, but the chancellor hadn't said anything about succeeding quickly.
Danai almost slapped herself. What kind of diplomat was she, so easily seduced by kind words and luxurious quarters? She had a job to do. She had the honor of the Confederation to uphold.
She sat at the room's terminal, the better to compose a few thoughts about the upcoming negotiations. But her mind wouldn't clear. Something had been bothering her since she had calmed down enough after the chancellor's message to think clearly. Erde, her great-aunt, had known Daoshen and llsa and even Sun-Tzu Liao since long before Danai was born. Erde had raised Danai until Daoshen ordered Danai to come to the Capellan Confederation and enter the military academy, pursuant to fulfilling her duties as a Liao. If anyone else besides Daoshen was in a position to know the secret of her parentage, it was Erde Centrella.
Erde. Her confidant. The one person she'd trusted with the truth about New Hessen and what Caleb Davion had done. Erde had been lying to her for her whole life.
Maybe. Maybe, somehow, she didn't know. Maybe Daoshen had pulled the wool over everyone's eyes. Not likely. But maybe. She had to know. She had to know soon.
There was a command circuit functioning between Sian and Oriente, and Danai planned on using it to get any diplomatic materials back to the chancellor as quickly as possible. She had planned to send off a pouch tonight, detailing her arrival and providing a vague outline of her plans. She had time to dash off a quick note to Erde. It would go off with everything else.
Then she'd know. If she could hold on long enough to find out.
20
Amur, Oriente
Oriente Protectorate
24 March 3136
"Danai!" Jessica Marik stood, looking very much like a civilian except for the insignia on the shoulders of her charcoal grey blazer that identified her as captain- general. "Or, since this is a formal diplomatic meeting, I suppose I should say Sao-shao Liao-Centrella. I hope your accommodations have proven comfortable to this point."
Danai smiled warmly. "They're wonderful," she said.
In truth, she hadn't slept more than an hour the past night, but that was not the fault of her quarters. Every time she closed her eyes, tw
o faces appeared in her mind—Daoshen and Erde. They were mouthing words, but no sound came out. Whatever they wanted to tell the weary Danai was not getting through to her, either because she could not or would not hear. Though silent, they still made it impossible for Danai to sleep. But she had a job to do today, so she had freshened herself as best she could, made her eyes look sharp and alert, and kept her bearing firm. If there was anything a Mech-
Warrior knew, it was how to function at a high level on little rest.
She had been summoned to a meeting, but in Jessica's private office rather than the throne room. With its floor- to-ceiling bookcases, stone fireplace and framed oil landscapes, it was an inviting room. The Marik's charm offensive was clearly continuing into day two.
Jessica's husband Philip was not present for this meeting, but Nikol was. Danai made a note of this. While Nikol might have been present as part of her diplomatic duties, Danai doubted it. Most likely, Nikol's inclusion in the meeting was yet another attempt to make Danai comfortable and get her to let her guard down.
Besides the two Mariks, a short, wiry man sat to the left of Jessica's modest desk, diligently making entries into a noteputer. Not a complete transcript, Danai thought—she assumed from the beginning that the meeting was being recorded—but rather notes on which parts of the recording might prove interesting at a later date. He probably had the additional duty of bringing a formal air to the occasion and, with his high-collared shirt and burgundy cravat, he performed that function well.
Danai had Clara in tow along with her own stenographer, one of the diplomats pressed on her by Daoshen. She couldn't remember the man's name at the moment, but he seemed to respond to any instructions Danai gave when looking directly at him, which was good enough.
Danai clasped Jessica's hand, then gave Nikol a hug. Her emotions almost threw her for a loop when she made contact with her friend—she suddenly wanted to giggle like a teenager and sob for hours on end at the same time, but she managed to keep herself steady and pull back without displaying anything more than a smile.
Once everyone was seated and comfortable, Jessica beamed at Danai—a motherly look, Danai thought, that the military under her command likely never saw.
"I must say, Danai—oh, heavens, I should say . . . well, maybe not. Could we just dispense with formality for these discussions, so I can be Jessica and you can be
Danai? I'm likely to keep calling you Danai anyway, so we might as well both be casual."
"That sounds fine," Danai said. She made herself sound grateful—no harm in letting Jessica think her unrelenting efforts to put Danai at ease were working.
"Good. Now, Danai, I was going to say how happy I was that Chancellor Liao sent you. My daughter Nikol has spoken highly of you since we left Terra, and from what I see I agree with her assessment. You seem capable and very bright."
"You're very kind," Danai said. She prepared herself for a blow, figuring that Jessica was laying on the praise in advance of some criticism. When she'd marched into the throne room with her retinue, she had expected a negative reaction sooner or later. The Mariks had opened the encounter with charm, while Danai had opted for a display of strength—a sign, Danai was sure, of the influence of her Liao blood.
The criticism started gently, but there was no mistaking the change in Jessica's tone. "I must say, though, I was rather surprised by the group you brought into the throne room yesterday. So many uniforms! It felt like an invasion."
"I'm sorry if I made you at all uncomfortable. I was just bringing the people the chancellor ordered along on the mission." It was a lie—Daoshen hadn't said anything about taking her company into the actual throne room— but a fairly harmless one, in Danai's estimation.
"No need to apologize," Jessica said. "It simply surprised me. Now, I assume most of the people you brought in are MechWarriors, correct?"
"Yes. It's my company from the Third Battalion of Second McCarron's Armored Cavalry."
"And I assume—well, I don't have to assume this, our scans have showed as much—your ships have your 'Mechs inside?"
"Merely as a convenience," Danai said. "I'm sure you know how nervous a MechWarrior gets if she is separated from her machine for too long."
"And I'm sure you know how nervous a ruler gets when sixteen large machines of war land practically in her front yard," Jessica said, her voice suddenly sharp.
Danai's opening move had worked—Jessica was angry. Now she had to figure out what to do next.
"I assure you, we do not intend to so much as arm our 'Mechs, let alone fire a shot, while we are on Oriente." Danai decided it was time for some flattery of her own. "Besides, we know the military strength of the Oriente Protectorate too well to believe sixteen 'Mechs would have any success in a hostile action."
"Oh, it's certain you would lose any battle you decided to start on Oriente," Jessica said, and Danai strained to find a trace of the motherly bearing Jessica had carried only moments before. "Still, there would be unnecessary death and destruction, which is intolerable. I will not have Capellan 'Mechs landing on Oriente and causing trouble. Your people will have strict orders about where they can be and when, and I expect those instructions to be followed to the letter. And, I should add, I do not appreciate the attempt to intimidate me by bringing them here."
Danai knew how she was supposed to feel—like a scolded child. That had been the whole purpose of the warm hospitality to this point, to make her apologetic, to make her want to grant any concessions Jessica thought to ask in return for her breach of etiquette. Unfortunately for Jessica, as the breach of etiquette had been entirely intentional, Danai didn't feel much of a need to make up for it. She did not quail in the face of Jessica's attack.
"I'm sorry you feel we were trying to bully you," Danai said. "I wasn't, of course. But if it helps, I can promise you that no one in my command will make an aggressive move while we are here."
"I appreciate your promise," Jessica said, though her tone had not grown any softer. "However, recent experience has shown that the word of the Liaos cannot always be trusted."
This was news to Danai; as far as she knew, she was here because the Mariks hadn't lived up to their end of the bargain. Daoshen hadn't bothered to mention any promises he might have broken.
"I'm sorry, but which experience is that?"
Jessica slammed an open palm on her desk. Everyone in the room (except the Mariks' imperturbable clerk) jumped.
"Don't sit there and play games with me!" Jessica shouted. "You know full well what I'm talking about! It was your attack! Aerial units of your battalion making bombing runs over Zion!"
"Yes, but I'm not sure what that has to do with . . ."
"We had a specific agreement! The Capellan Confederation was only to take worlds that were traditionally part of the Confederation. Zion is not such a planet! You had no business sending your troops there! Now. as I said, I'm quite pleased the chancellor decided to send you on this mission, because now I can hear the explanation for your treachery from your own mouth. Why did you break the agreement?"
Danai had to think fast. Daoshen had done it to her again. This was the sort of thing that would have been nice to know before she came here. Hell, it was the sort of thing that would have been nice to know before she'd headed to Aldebaran. But again, he'd left her to drift in the wind. Made her a pawn in some game of his, rather than an informed player. Another way to see if she measured up to her family name—to see if she lived up to his blood. He'd thrown her into the deep end of the diplomatic pool for sport.
Danai knew Jessica wanted an explanation, but she didn't have a good enough one yet. If she wanted to live up to her bro—her father's example, she could start by playing a game of her own.
She flew to her feet. Her chair teetered a little, so she gave it a deliberate shove back with her calf. It fell with a thud.
"I am here as a diplomat!" she exclaimed. "A guest! And you ambush me like this? Accuse me of trying to intimidate you, call me deceitful?
I will not sit here and listen to this!"
She turned and stormed out the door.
"Danai!" Nikol called after her. Danai would have liked to respond, but she had to let her anger carry her for the time being. She didn't look back.
She assumed Clara and Wiggins, her stenographer (his name came to her in a flash), had followed her out, but she didn't stop to check until after she had reached a turn in the corridor and passed out of sight of Jessica Marik's private audience. Sure enough, they were right behind her. Clara looked bemused; Wiggins looked stunned.
"That sure turned ugly in a hurry," Clara said. Wiggins just stood and shook.
"Don't they say that good diplomats shouldn't get caught by surprise?" Danai asked.
"I've heard that," Clara said.
"Well, I'm not a good diplomat yet. Come on, we need to talk to Bell. I think I know enough now to tell him the sorts of things he should be looking for. And then we need to sit down and strategize."
Danai continued on her way to her quarters. She'd managed to keep her voice calm when talking to Clara, even though she felt like her entire body was trembling. She'd given in to her rage in Jessica's office because it had been a good way to get out, but she would need a level head for the rest of this mission. She'd indulged in anger at Daoshen plenty on the DropShip. Now it was time to get things done.
* * *
"That wasn't nice, Mother." "No," Jessica said. "It wasn't."
"You violated the agreement as much as she did—if she even knew all the details about it. But you made her feel like an oath-breaking pig, while you get to sit there in judgment."
"Yes," Jessica said. "I do."
Nikol sat silent for a moment, struggling for words.
"Anything else?" Jessica asked.
"No—yes! It's just ... it wasn't nice."
"Yes, dear, we already covered that. I agreed. But since the goal of the meeting had nothing to do with being nice, that point is neither here nor there."
Principles of Desolation Page 19
