“I, Myndo Waterly, Precentor Dieron for these past ten years, call for a Vote of Expulsion against you, Primus.”
So this is it, eh, Myndo? You believe you have me? Tiepolo folded his hands into the voluminous sleeves of his tan robe, relishing the roughness of the simple woolen fabric. “Such a call need not be seconded, Precentor Dieron.”
The Primus looked around at the other precentors and read shock on half their faces. You’ve not laid enough groundwork, Myndo. You always were overconfident. He nodded patronizingly. “I see that no one challenges your right to speak first on this subject.”
Myndo’s eager smile irritated the Primus, but he set it aside as she began to speak. “I realize, fellow precentors, that my action may seem rash, ill-mannered, and poorly timed. We are, I acknowledge, in the midst of a great crisis, yet I feel that unless ComStar gets a new pilot at the helm, we will no longer be the flagship of human destiny.”
The Primus watched her move elegantly within the circle of podia. You always were an excellent orator, Myndo. I saw that long ago, which is why I made you my protégé. Not only did you understand the Word of Blake, but you expressed it so eloquently. If only you had accepted the true wisdom I tried to share with you. Instead of embracing the new philosophy and greatness, you have consigned yourself to fight a reactionary war. It will destroy you.
Myndo gestured toward the Primus. “This man, and Adrienne Sims before him, represent a rogue twist in the philosophy of ComStar. His actions are a perversion of the Word of Blake, yet his mastery of that sacred document has allowed him to quote it to justify his position and to punish opposition. This renegade school of thought will destroy us if we do not root it out now.”
She drew her out flung hands back to her chest, then let them drop to her sides as she looked down contritely. “We all remember the changes Adrienne Sims made in the service. She created the Explorer Corps of ComStar, which has made discoveries of incalculable worth in recovering technology from the Star League era and before. We cannot doubt the usefulness of this service, or its vital part in bringing us closer to our destiny.”
The Primus curled his hands into fists to stop their trembling. Is this part of it, Myndo? I once predicted great things for you, even that you would one day become Primus. How your eyes lit up at my confidence… But not now, not this way. A slow burning began in his chest. Damn, my ulcer is coming back.
Myndo glanced at the Primus like a wolf watching a sheep pen. “Had Julian Tiepolo remained as nothing but a caretaker for his predecessor’s programs, ComStar would have been blessed with his election. His thirty-year reign would have been heralded as an age of unprecedented stability during which we could have gained more information and strength. Unfortunately, Julian Tiepolo began to think of his place in our history, and after twenty years, moved to create fame for himself.
“He gambled. He looked at the Word of Blake and read only of the good times in which ComStar would share technology with a united humanity. He thought that he could unite the Successor States quickly and be the Primus who finally led mankind out of the dark ages. Wanting to be a new Prometheus, he attempted to accomplish in a decade what it will take centuries to bring about.”
The flesh around the Primus’s eyes tightened at the jolt of pain her words gave him. Excellent use of a mythical reference! Yes, I would be the light-bringer, but I am not so guileless as to proceed in the manner you suggest. Yes, I combine our foes, but only to more easily direct them at each other. A trickle of sweat rolled down his right temple. Quickly, Precentor, finish your speech so I may pull it apart!
Myndo opened her hands wide as though to embrace the whole chamber. “We all know the list of things Julian Tiepolo has tried to do in the last ten years, and many of you have been present when I opposed his wild machinations in this very chamber. I steadfastly fought against the alliance between the Lyran Commonwealth and Federated Suns. The Primus believed that uniting these two nations would spur the fall of the other states. That was his reason for forcing me to negotiate a treaty between Houses Kurita, Marik, and Liao. It may appear that he created two strong foes out of five smaller enemies—a formula to bring about the destruction we have long awaited—it did nothing of the sort.”
Myndo lifted her chin. “All this time, I was seeing the true danger within the Successor States: Prince Hanse Davion. Other shortsighted rulers before him believed they could force their enemies to elect them as new First Lord of a new Star League, but this man is different. Someone like Maximilian Liao dreamed of being elevated by his peers and given free rein to create a new League. He imagined that he could reform, in months or years, what centuries of war and hatred had torn asunder.
“Hanse Davion suffers no such illusion. He does not seek personal glory and gain. What he plans is the founding of a dynasty. Already he has united the two economically strongest realms with his marriage to Melissa Steiner. His armies have gobbled up the most productive parts of the Capellan Confederation, and our interdiction has not slowed those troops in any measurable way. It is as though Hanse Davion knows our true purpose and uses that knowledge against us.”
A wave of heat passed over the Primus, beading sweat on his shaven head. The burning in his chest increased and with it, so did his fury at Precentor Dieron. Full retribution…is that what you want, Myndo? Did it so pain you ten years ago when I did not take you as my consort? I refused to take you to my bed because it would have forced me to choose between you and my great mission as Primus and guide of ComStar. You would have seduced me with your physical charms and then, intellectually, accomplished the same thing. We would have still reached this place, you and I, because I would not have moved quickly or ruthlessly enough for you. You have never understood how this office hobbles even the boldest of those who attain it.
Myndo ticked off points on her fingers as her voice rose to fill the chamber. “The Primus failed when he said there would be no change in the Liao-Davion border in our lifetime. He failed to maintain security during the Davion-Steiner wedding. Jaime Wolf appeared with two swords. Three ComStar ROM agents died. A Liao assassin made an attempt on the life of Quintus Allard. When I pressed for an interdiction of House Liao for this violation, the Primus blocked it. When I asked for an interdiction of House Davion to cut off their invasion in the early stages, again he blocked it. Now that Ardan Sortek has stepped in to run the Tikonov Free Republic until ‘free’ elections can be held, the Primus will not allow us to interdict Tikonov, which is no more than a Davion puppet-state!”
Her hands tightened into fists. “Every time I suggest action that could slow the unification that is anathema to our goals, Primus Julian Tiepolo opposes me and puts into place a program that assists our enemies. He is a heretic! We must remove him before he has a chance to block our response to a most serious situation.”
The Primus’s left arm jerked slightly as a sharp pain jolted from shoulder to fist. What is she talking about? These cryptic references will be the death of me. He pulled his right hand from his left sleeve and rubbed it against his chest. Damn. Why does my ulcer have to flare up now? For a moment, his attention wandered to the trivial thought of another year of bland food and foul concoctions.
Myndo’s face hardened with contempt. “We all recall the gross failure of the Primus’s personal aide, Precentor Emilio Rachan. Under the Primus’s watchful eye, Rachan tried to carve himself a little kingdom and compromised security by allying with renegade Marik lords. Rachan located but failed to recover a Star League library memory core. In fact, he allowed it to fall into the hands of civilians who have treated it as a storehouse of lostech.”
Her arctic gaze swept around the room. “For two years, we have hunted down every copy of the core we could find. To destroy these cores, we sponsored terrorism and let the blame fall to Davion or Kurita. Until now, we have kept the information in the copies from reaching people skilled enough to realize what they have. But that is no longer true because the New Avalon Institute of Science now has
a copy of the core!”
More pain wracked the Primus’s chest, again clawing down his left arm. No, that’s not possible! She must be lying. How could Myndo have such information? We have no ROM agents in the NAIS… If it is true…by the Blood of Blake, we are undone!
Myndo smiled cruelly at her shocked compatriots. “Yes, the core has reached the NAIS. Their experts are studying it, but their enthusiasm has let hints of their great find leak through the security net. How do I know?” Her eyes glowed with triumph. “I have placed an agent in the area and she managed to seduce the son of the military research chief. He told her just enough to communicate to me what is really happening in the NAIS.”
Myndo turned and pointed at the Primus. “We must take action…action that this man will not sanction. Otherwise, this core will provide the NAIS with data that will allow them to take quantum leaps in technology. We must strike and destroy the NAIS!”
No! Such a naked display of power is impossible! Julian Tiepolo glowered at Myndo and opened his mouth to bellow at her, but no words escaped his throat.
A bolt of pain exploded in his chest and engulfed his left arm in agony. He tore at his chest with his right hand and collapsed in a heap. His breath, coming in ragged gasps, stoked the fire in his chest. The world swam out of focus as it spun away.
Myndo watched the paramedics wheel Julian Tiepolo away to the infirmary. As the chamber’s door slid shut behind them, she faced her peers. “We must vote.”
Still pale, Precentor Tharkad stared at her, unbelieving. “I, for one, will not sanction removing the Primus’s title and office while he lies fighting for his life!”
Even before the others could voice agreement, Myndo cut them off. “Not that, you fool! Do you think me so heartless and cruel that I would take that from him? I may have opposed him, but I would not strip him of his dignity on his deathbed.” She shook her head slowly. “No, I would not do that. Still, we must vote on whether or not to take action against the NAIS.”
Villius Tejh watched her with the eyes of an eagle. “We cannot openly strike at the school.”
Myndo laughed, wondering what sort of a fool he took her for. “Point well taken. Since our impersonation of a Davion unit was so successful in creating the holovid for the Federated Suns interdiction, I have prepared a ’Mech battalion that matches the Liao Death Commandos in every detail. As far as anyone will know, Liao has launched an attack on the NAIS.”
Precentor Tharkad rubbed his chin. “When?”
“They can be there in three weeks,” she said. “Infantry will scour the research center to recover information that we do not have while the ’Mech battalion destroys whatever we don’t need. Finally, they raze the whole research facility to cover our tracks.”
Slowly, Precentor Tharkad raised his hand to signal agreement. Following his lead, in fits and starts, the other precentors also voted in favor of the attack. Savoring her victory, Myndo made the vote unanimous by being the last one to raise her hand.
She smiled at her fellows, knowing herself the strongest among them. Thus begins a new age for ComStar. The Word of Blake be done!
Chapter 37
KATHIL
CAPELLAN MARCH
FEDERATED SUNS
29 AUGUST 3029
Captain Andrew Redburn hunched his neck into his shoulders as cold, hard rain slashed at his face. This Fredek Vebber may think Kathil is his own fiefdom, but he’s wearing on me. The MechWarrior shot a glance at Morgan Hasek-Davion, admiring the look of calm nobility on the other man’s face. His ability to stay cool even under less-than-ideal conditions is why he and not you is in charge of this operation, Andy.
The main doors to Kearny-Fuchida Yare Industries sprang open, releasing a flood of harsh white lights that blinded the quartet of officers walking toward the building. The lights, mounted on holovid cameras, reduced Fredek Vebber to a corpulent silhouette. Andrew smiled despite the lash of windblown rain. Vebber’s not a complete fool. He, at least, is out of this downpour.
The crowd melted back as Morgan Hasek-Davion passed through the door. Tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, Morgan moved with a grace that was almost feline. Without looking back, he continued far enough into the lobby for his compatriots to follow, then slid back the hood and doffed his raincloak.
Andrew read Morgan’s tension in the way his hands curled into fists and the intentness with which he studied those around him. I remember when we first met at Warrior’s Hall, pitted against one another in a plebe boxing tournament. When he looked at me just that way, I knew I was done for. Two minutes later, I was kissing canvas. I hope you’re up to it, Mr. Vebber.
Vebber stepped forward as KFYI staffers whisked away the MechWarriors’ sopping raingear. He offered Morgan his hand, making sure to hold the pose long enough for the holovid cameras to shoot everything they needed for a promotional film.
The two men contrasted with one another in almost every way. Younger, healthier, and more physically imposing, Morgan bore himself with a strength Vebber would have lacked even in his youth. Morgan’s black fatigues and the pistol riding in a hip holster also marked him as a military man, but it was more than that. Morgan is so vital and powerful, Andrew thought. He is the predator and Vebber the prey.
Fredek Vebber, swathed in a gray business suit, looked old, soft, and heavy. “It is an honor, Highness, to have you tour our facilities,” he said. “I am Fredek Vebber, and at your service.”
Morgan let a thin smile form on his lips, but his green eyes gave Vebber no quarter. “We found the visit to your antenna facility most instructive.”
Andrew shared a smile with the other two officers who had accompanied Morgan to the microwave antenna dish plantation. “Instructive” had not been one of the words that came to mind while they stood out in the rain looking at those dishes.
Morgan turned to introduce his entourage. “Mr. Vebber, these are my staff officers.” He smiled genuinely as he gestured to the MechWarriors. “This is Captain Andrew Redburn.”
Vebber pasted a smile on his face that almost fell off when Andrew half-crushed the plant owner’s fleshy hand in a solid grip. “I’ve heard of you, Captain, You’re a hero—this is a thrill for me.”
Andrew nodded politely. “Indeed. I’ll not soon forget our meeting.”
Vebber pried his hand free as Morgan introduced the beautiful black-skinned officer standing next to Andrew. “This is Captain Alanna Damu.” Vebber took her hand and would have kissed it, but Alanna shifted her palm around for a more appropriate greeting. Her ebon eyes flashed with irritation, prompting Vebber to nod silently and move to the last officer.
Vebber smiled warmly as he shook hands with Colonel Geraldo de Velez. “Highness, I know Gerry. I’ve known him since he was a kid. We sponsored his childhood soccer team.” Vebber winked at Morgan. “Yare always takes great care of its employees and their little ones.”
“I am certain, Mr. Vebber, that Colonel de Velez was chosen to command the Kathil militia’s third battalion because of his maturity and skill at tactics.” Morgan’s voice took on a sharp edge. “He is young, it’s true, but woe to any who mistake him for a child.”
Vebber straightened his double-breasted gray coat. “I see.” He waved them forward toward a long corridor. “Please, let me conduct you on the tour.”
Morgan nodded slowly. “Do proceed, sir. We have come a long way for this.” He glanced back at his aides, silently communicating his intentions to them.
Andrew nodded understanding. Morgan wants to be in and out. We only want one thing from a visit to Yare, and now we’ll get it. Andrew smiled as one of the cameramen moved ahead to catch the party as it turned a corner. This is one vid no one is ever going to see.
Ahead, Vebber’s tenor voice filled the corridor. “This is only a small part of KF Yare Industries, but the most important part. You saw the KF drive manufacturing plant in orbit as you came in-system, and you saw one of our many energy broadcast stations this morning. What you didn’t
see were the numerous smaller factories circling this world at high speed. With the computers here in our command center, we track all of them and supply their energy needs by beaming microwaves up to them.”
Vebber pushed open a door and waved his guests into the dark, cavernous command center. In the backlight from hundreds of display terminals, Andrew saw a legion of technicians moving around the room. He whistled involuntarily. “This looks like the cockpit on a JumpShip, only a hundred times larger.”
Vebber smiled and pointed down over rows and rows of technicians seated at command modules. They sat facing a wall on which was projected a map of the whole planet, with the trajectories of various satellite factories plotted over it in glowing detail. “On that map, we track all factories, communication satellites, and incoming ships. We know where everything is at any time.”
Morgan moved to the nearest station, smiling down at the friendly looking man at the post. “From here, you track factories and feed them power?”
Vebber nodded, patting his hair into place. “We make sure each plant gets the power it needs. This requires delicate work as it passes from energy zone to energy zone. We power down one feed at a rate inverse to the powering up of the next feed so there’s not an overload.”
Andrew frowned. “Why track satellites? They all have their own reactors on board, don’t they?”
Vebber smiled condescendingly, but massaged his right hand nervously. “True, Captain. They do not require our power. If, however, they got caught in one of our energy feeds, well—” he made his hands fly away from each other in a mock explosion, “—our insurance carriers would be upset with us.”
Warrior: Coupé (The Warrior Trilogy, Book Three): BattleTech Legends, #59 Page 26