BattleTech : MechWarrior - Dark Age 03 - The Ruins of Power - Robert E.Vardeman (2003)

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BattleTech : MechWarrior - Dark Age 03 - The Ruins of Power - Robert E.Vardeman (2003) Page 15

by Robert E. Vardeman


  For a brief instant, Elora's emerald eyes locked with Austin's. He thought a flicker of a smile danced over her thin lips, and then her amplified voice boomed over the din of other questions. There was no doubt about how she used her position as Minister to best the others technologically.

  "Governor Ortega, is it true that your son evaded arrest last night after consorting with a known traitor?" "Ladies and gentlemen, please," cried Sergio. "This is my office. I will answer your questions in the conference room. Not here."

  Austin looked for guards to move the crowd from the outer office, but none were in sight. He maneuvered his way around the group of reporters and gave the secretary instructions. The man corralled five others from the Governor's office staff and began to herd the reporters out and down the hall. They went more willingly after Elora made a point of leading the parade. Austin found his way back to Sergio as the crowd dispersed.

  "You need the FCL guarding you," he said. He thought his father started to say something, then stopped. A mask of calm settled, the mask he always wore when dealing with difficult situations.

  Austin envied him in that moment. He couldn't find composure when his best friend was running from the authorities and he had no idea who had murdered his brother.

  Worse than such turmoil was his father refusing to trust him.

  "Thank you," Sergio said, eyes forward. Austin wasn't sure if the Governor thanked the secretary and the others or him. He didn't ask as he followed at the proper two steps behind as they went to the conference room. The Governor's protocol officer ought to have prepared for this, but Austin hadn't seen him in days. More to the point, as Minister, Lady Elora should have helped control the news flow instead of being in the forefront of blowing up the dam.

  The tumult hit Austin the instant he stepped onto the dais with his father. A hundred questions from a hundred mouths all vied for supremacy, but one came through loud and clear.

  "Why was the Baronet consorting with a known felon?" Elora might have asked the question, but she didn't. She didn't have to because this was the single query they all wanted answered.

  "My son Austin was attempting to get Captain Leclerc to surrender to authorities when this incident occurred," Sergio said. "He had almost convinced Leclerc of the folly of remaining a fugitive, when heavy-handed officers of the Legate's military police interrupted. Leclerc was scared off by their unnecessarily violent entrance into the tavern."

  "Isn't it true that your son fled with the traitor Leclerc?"

  "You play fast and loose with our legal system by such unproved accusations. Manfred Leclerc deserves his day in court. When he is arrested, his guilt or innocence will be determined."

  "Then you don't deny that your son consorts with traitors and killers?" "Next question, please," Sergio said. Austin wanted to say something to defend himself but saw his father's clenched fists and how he struggled to remain calm.

  "One last question, Governor Ortega," Elora boomed, drowning out the other reporters. "How do you respond to the recent off-world communiqué from both Prefect Radick and Lord Governor Sandoval expressing 'no confidence' in your ability to perform your duty as head of Mirach's government?" The room fell silent. Then the other reporters babbled their own questions.

  "Why haven't you told us of this message from the leaders of The Republic, Governor?" asked one. "What are you hiding?" asked another. "What else aren't you telling us?" The noise rose to a deafening pitch. Even if Sergio had answered, no one could have heard him.

  Austin fought to protect his father as the reporters surged forward with their shouted questions.

  Elora was Minister of Information and had flatly stated that not only had the Governor lost the confidence of the two most powerful leaders in the Prefecture, but he had also committed what was quickly becoming the ultimate crime: not revealing communications from other worlds immediately.

  The fall of the HPG built new conspiracies at every turn.

  Austin had almost forced back the reporters when he heard Elora's final cut.

  "Since the leaders of Prefecture IV have lost confidence in your ability to lead, Governor Ortega, when will a replacement be named?" Austin felt as if he had been hit in the belly with a sledgehammer. Elora's scheme was transparent. There wasn't a replacement because the Lord Governor had not lost confidence in Sergio Ortega. But Elora could make a strong case for Legate Tortorelli leading a military coup until a civilian replacement arrived.

  Which it never would.

  She would disgrace the Governor and then put her toady in Sergio's place. Retaining the powerful position as head of the Ministry of Information, Elora would control Mirach completely from the shadows. Tortorelli would retain his post as Legate, giving him military and de facto civilian authority.

  All the reins of power ran to her grasping fingers.

  "Father, this way," Austin said. Sergio let his son guide him from the conference room into the hall. To Austin's surprise, Dmitri Borodin and four other soldiers he did not recognize hurried toward them. All five were dressed in the forest green Home Guard uniforms.

  "Nobody's allowed out, Austin," Borodin said, putting up his hand to stop Austin from leaving.

  "It's a mob scene in there," Austin said. "Help the Baron back to his office-" Borodin looked grief-stricken as he stepped away from the other four. In a low voice he said, "We're here to make sure Governor Ortega doesn't try to go anywherebut his office. Those were Legate Tortorelli's orders, straight from his own lips before we came here from the barracks." "That's an outrage!" Austin cried.

  "Don't argue," Sergio said. "It's not worth it, son." He went directly back to his office trailed by two guards, leaving Austin behind with Borodin and the other soldiers.

  Austin seethed at such injustice. His father was a Baron, Governor of Mirach, and was being treated like a prisoner. Then he settled down and realized that Borodin was a good soldier and followed orders, even if they ran counter to his own loyalties.

  "Thanks for what you've done so far," Austin said. "Can I count on you later?" "You can count on me, sir, but the patrol with me," Borodin said uneasily, "they're all loyal to Lord Governor Sandoval-if he declares for the Federated Suns. Every time a DropShip lands, there's stories. They're sayin' Sandoval's trying to take back FedSuns worlds, and there're some who'd just as soon have it that way." This was a shock to Austin, too concerned with the local situation to even consider what might be going on in the rest of the Prefecture, especially with the HPG net down. The FedSuns was one of the older states from which Devlin Stone had taken worlds to build The Republic.

  If the rumors were true-and Austin had no way to be sure that they were-then Mirach was in more trouble than he'd realized. And where did the Envoy from Sandoval, Parsons, stand? "They don't exactly trust me, knowing I prefer The Republic, but it's gettin' hard, Lieutenant, it's getting real hard, to keep thinkin' The Republic's the right way to go." Austin saw the two with Borodin overheard and grinned. This would be reported to the officer of the day.

  "Carry on, Master Sergeant," he said, as if he were still Borodin's commanding officer.

  "Wait, Lieutenant; I got more orders coming in." Borodin pulled out a small radio and pushed it close to his ear. "Come on," he said to the two soldiers. "We're shutting down the news conference.

  The Governor's incommunicado from now on, by order of Legate Tortorelli." Borodin cast an anguished look at Austin, then silently mouthed, "Get out of here," before leading his small squad to the conference room.

  Austin wondered if the next order from Tortorelli would be to arrest everyone in the Palace.

  This was as close to a coup as there could be without shots being fired. And he had warned his father about turning over the FCL to Tortorelli's command.

  Feeling vindicated did little to ease the fear growing like a cancer in Austin's gut. With Tortorelli shutting off the Governor and his staff from the reporters, Lady Elora would be the only source relaying government news to the public. Austin knew
what those reports were likely to say after she had openly charged the Governor with being a traitor.

  He took a side corridor and quickly lost himself in the maze of the Palace. This had been home for all his life and now it felt as if he walked an alien landscape, terrain as odd and deadly as the plains outside the Blood Hills Barracks.

  Austin rounded a corner and came to an abrupt halt. In an alcove not five meters away Marta Kinsolving held a Span-net device to her ear and spoke rapidly into it. Austin caught only snippets but went cold inside when he caught the gist of her conversation.

  "Marta!" he called. She looked up, startled. She hastily clicked off the phone and shoved it into her pocket.

  "I've got to go," she said, spinning away from him and walking as rapidly as she could without running. Austin was under no such polite rule. He caught up with her before she reached the door leading to the small snow-crusted park south of the Palace.

  "I heard what you said to Manfred," he said. "You can't do this." She faced him squarely. Marta's face hardened and she set her jaw.

  "Protect yourself, Austin. I know the orders Tortorelli just gave. He and Elora have finally made their move and we can't let them succeed." She pulled away and dashed into the mazelike hedges in the south park. Austin hesitated for a moment, then ran after her. If he didn't convince her to call off the rebellion, the entire planet would be plunged into civil war.

  22

  Cingulum, Mirach

  3 May 3133

  Austin Ortega sprinted and dived into Marta Kinsolving's limousine as the door closed. The woman looked up in surprise at the unexpected intrusion.

  "Austin!" Marta scowled at him. "You shouldn't meddle, Austin. What do you think you can do against the Legate?" she asked tartly. "Get out right now and go protect your father."

  "Tortorelli won't hurt my father," he said. "He won't even imprison him until he's moved his forces and Elora has whipped up even more fear and made a transfer of power plausible. The majority of citizens still support the government," Austin said.

  His heart hammered and his mouth had turned to cotton. He had listened to his father prattle on endlessly about "key moments" and "turning points in history." He had never believed such phenomena existed and had thought even if they had he would have nothing to do with them. Austin realized how wrong he was. The destiny of his world hung in the balance now, this very instant. Even more worrisome, what he did mattered most.

  "You don't know anything," Marta said. She reached to signal the driver, but Austin caught her wrist.

  "Even a lance of refitted AgroMechs won't stand against the Legate's combined forces," he said. Austin knew he had hit the target by the way Marta blanched.

  "Don't try to stop us," she said, recovering some of her poise. She yanked free of his grip but made no move to alert the driver again. "You, of all people, should see what's going on. Mirach is facing a civil war that will destroy us. The riots are only a prelude to the troubles falling on our heads like a runaway DropShip."

  "It's Elora's doing," Austin said. "A blind man can see that Tortorelli's her pawn. She plays on the lack of HPG communication. She's responsible for fueling the street demonstrations with fear and paranoia, but the only way she can get rid of my father is through Tortorelli. She's chosen a weak tool for that job."

  "Not as weak as you think. He's issued a full mobilization order, but he's not doing the planning this time. It won't be an easy victory like you had in the war games he tried to impress Parsons with." "So you're saying it's Elora's strategy?" Austin knew Tortorelli had expert field commanders.

  Given decent orders and unleashed, they were a match for any on-planet opposition.

  "The MBA is right in fielding 'Mechs to protect ourselves. Ultimately we'll be protecting the people-and your father's government."

  "But think of the slaughter," Austin said. He surprised himself. He was beginning to sound like his father, arguing against the refitted 'Mechs rallying against the Legate's forces. "Your modified 'Mechs can do incredible damage to Tortorelli's troops, but the collateral damage could be bad, especially if fighting takes place in the city." He wanted to save Mirach, but not at the expense of the lives of the populace. "Even if Manfred's worked with your pilots, they can't have gained enough experience to prevent wholesale destruction when they engage troops in battle armor supported by tanks."

  "What do you suggest?" she asked, leaning back. Marta wasn't at ease but was willing to listen.

  Austin counted that as progress.

  "You need a wedge driven through the middle of Tortorelli's force. Psychological warfare, and not military action, is your only chance. I've spoken with a few noncoms and know their loyalties are divided." Austin didn't itemize exactly how divided that loyalty was nor that he had talked to only one noncom. Master Sergeant Borodin sounded like an island of fealty in an ocean of confused allegiances.

  Out of that confusion, Austin had to build a new loyalty for the Baron, but Elora had to be countered forcefully. With Sergio Ortega bottled up, he could not be the rallying figure.

  "Are you that wedge?" she asked bluntly.

  "No," Austin said. "Dale would have been, but he's dead. I'm liked but not as respected as Manfred Leclerc among the FCL. We need to find him and reestablish his role as leader." "Easier said than done," Marta muttered. "Elora has turned him into a criminal. Having him in command of the FCL again won't be enough, especially if it becomes a rebel unit in the midst of the Home Guard."

  Austin hoped that Tortorelli had not had enough time to fully deploy the FCL soldiers yet. A strong leader like Manfred at the head of a strong unit like the FCL might sway some of the soldiers in the Home Guard. Austin slumped a little, knowing he was grasping at straws. But the alternative to weakening Tortorelli's forces was unleashing the MBA 'Mechs. He didn't think Marta understood the potential for extreme destruction by the mechanical juggernauts.

  "We need to talk, you, me, Manfred," Austin said. "Call him and-" "I can't reach him," Marta said. "He calls me." "I know how to contact him, but I don't have the resources to help him when I do." "What do you have to do to get in touch with him?" she asked.

  Austin felt the swirl of intrigue all around. He wasn't sure he trusted Marta fully, but he had no choice with his father under Tortorelli's thumb, the FCL being dismantled, and Manfred on the run.

  Manfred would know what to do once they talked this through.

  "North side of the Czar Alexander Fountain," he said.

  "What's that?" Marta came out of her own deep thought. "Oh. How you contact Manfred." She instructed the driver to change destination. The massive limo swayed slightly as it took a corner at high speed. Otherwise, Austin had no sensation of movement as they raced through the increasingly war- torn capital.

  "He's lucky to have a friend like you," Marta said suddenly.

  "And a patron like you. How did you get him to train your refitted IndustrialMech pilots?" Marta shrugged, her brown eyes drifting away from Austin for a moment. Then they came back to fix on his.

  "Manfred is quite an impressive man. In many ways." A small smile came to her lips.

  Austin understood then how the captain of the FCL and the president of the Mirach Business Association had come to trust one another. He had overlooked the simple notion that there was more to the world than politics.

  A red light flashed on the padded console arm beside Marta.

  "Czar Alexander Fountain," she said. She changed the polarization on the window next to Austin so he could look out. The huge white limo drove several times around the fountain with its towering twenty-meter-high sprays and intricate, lacy veils of tumbling water before Austin spotted the message.

  Anyone passing by on the sidewalk circling the fountain might think it was only graffiti, but Austin recognized the scrawl immediately as a locator code used by the FCL during maneuvers. He deciphered the relative position and passed along instructions to the driver. The section of town where they headed looked as if the war had a
lready been fought, leaving behind only destroyed buildings and fearful inhabitants.

  Austin drummed his fingers nervously, worrying that Manfred might be dead amid this rubble.

  The limousine braked to a smooth stop.

  "This is it, exactly four kilometers from the fountain," the driver said on the intercom.

  "Here," Marta said to Austin, opening a small panel in the door, revealing a 10-mm pistol. He took it, jacked a round into the chamber, and held the weapon for a moment to savor the feel and balance. He didn't recognize its make, but the operation was obvious enough.

  "The clip has a mix of bullets," Marta said. "Every third round is an explosive round. The others are armor piercing." "Couldn't cut through too much," Austin said, staring at the compact weapon. Then he reconsidered. Marta wasn't the sort to make idle boasts.

  "At close range, a full clip of those will severely wound a soldier in light battle armor." "I doubt it will come to that right now." Austin slid from the limo and found himself in a strange world unlike the regal elegance of the Palace of Facets or the starkly utilitarian FCL barracks.

  Scents of rotting garbage and death assaulted him as much as the sight of burned-out buildings and bodies partially buried in the rubble, no one even trying to dig them free.

  Austin leveled the pistol and set off, looking for the next set of instructions from Manfred-if the captain was still alive.

  23

  Ministry of Information, Cingulum Mirach

  3 May 3133

  "What do you mean, you lost contact?" Lady Elora's green eyes turned colder than jade as she glared at Calvilena Tortorelli.

  "Aren't the devices I loaned you adequate, or were the operators inept?"

  "Please, Elora, don't be like this," Tortorelli said, moving about the Minister's office. He picked up knickknacks and replaced them after only cursory examination, making Elora angrier by the instant.

  "How should I be, Calvy?" she asked with venom dripping from every word.

  "They'll turn up again. Where could they have gone? After all, Kinsolving has a large communications company to run and those dreary MBA meetings to attend. And who cares about Ortega's worthless son? The Baronet does nothing but run hither and yon. He's completely lost in the world of political infighting that you and I are so adept in. It was a fine idea I had separating him from the FCL, although I suspect he is hardly a soldier, either."

 

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