Warrior: Coupé (The Warrior Trilogy, Book Three): BattleTech Legends, #59

by Michael A. Stackpole

  The sensors painted him a picture of the action taking place within the verdant fog that drifted over the scene. The House Imarra ’Mechs, drawn as yellow skeletons on the display, had already begun to break ranks, but Andrew ignored them. Hitting another button on his console, he engaged a search routine he’d programmed into his battle computer earlier. The holographic images wavered, then a small circle surrounded what appeared to be an l-shaped metallic cylinder roughly forty-five centimeters in length.

  Andrew smiled. Got you! Your metal arm gives you away. Andrew’s joy at having located Justin vanished along with the image his search program had created. Gone. Ducked back into the palace barracks. Going for his ’Mech, l bet. All the better.

  Swirling through the green mist, a Liao Crusader charged at Andrew. He dropped the Marauder’s targeting crosshairs on the humanoid ’Mech, then triggered both PPCs. Dancing forks of blue lightning rippled up and down the Crusader’s right arm. Glowing gobs of molten armor dripped from the ’Mech like liquid glass. Exposed by the PPC assault, myomer muscles, blacker and heavier than those familiar to Andrew, contracted to bring the arm-mounted laser into play.

  Suddenly, the muscles began to smolder. An oily vapor rose from them as the Crusader’s pilot struggled to make the limb respond, then the muscles burst into flame. Burning droplets of molten myomer splashed over the Crusader’s leg and streamed to the ferrocrete. The limb, engulfed in the fire of its own muscles, swung like a man hanging from a gibbet.

  Andrew opened a radio frequency to Morgan. “It works. Exposed to the gas, the myomer they stole from Bethel ignites when they run power through it to make it contract!”

  “Yes!” Morgan roared back triumphantly. “But take care anyway. Until the muscle hits this gas, it’s very powerful.”

  As if he had overheard Morgan Hasek-Davion’s warning, the Crusader’s pilot continued his rush forward, left arm raised to club Andrew’s ’Mech. Andrew immediately dropped the Marauder under the blow, then lunged up and stabbed both arms into the Crusader’s midsection. The double-claw punch shattered the armor over the humanoid ’Mech’s abdomen and lifted it three meters into the air.

  The Crusader landed unsteadily on its feet and then, like a boxer with round heels, toppled ungracefully backward. Wary of the ’Mech’s powerful legs, Andrew fired one PPC bolt into the ruin his punch had made of the Crusader’s stomach. The searing particle beam blasted away what little armor remained and exposed the Mech’s inner workings to the battle fog.

  As the pilot tried to force his ’Mech back upright, fire erupted in the Crusader’s belly, but Andrew ignored it. A Liao Marauder streaked past in front of him, its legs burning like torches. Finally, the last of the myomer melted away, sprawling the Marauder on its back. Sparks flew from beneath it as the ’Mech’s armor ripped free on the ferrocrete deck.

  Justin thrust the door shut behind him, then bent down to breathe the hangar’s cleaner air. He wiped the tears from his eyes and inhaled deeply, soothing the burning in his chest and throat. The gas isn’t meant for anti-personnel use or it would have done more than make my eyes water and torch my throat. They only brought an Overlord, which means they’ve got a battalion at best. They aren’t here for the duration, so this must be a pickup or quick raid. Then the truth dawned on him. Only Hanse Davion would dare be so bold in an effort to recover an agent. If it’s an agent Davion wants, it’s an agent he’ll get.

  Justin sprinted the length of a hallway, then shot down three flights of stairs. At the bottom, he hammered on the heavy security door until a slovenly guard opened it. “Shonso Xiang, what can I do for you?”

  Justin brushed his way past the man into the small watch station. “There is an emergency. We need the prisoner. Tsen Shang sent me to get him.” Justin studied the bank of holovid monitors lining the walls. Each revealed the interior of a high-security Maskirovka holding cell, but only one was occupied.

  The guard frowned and glanced at the visiphone. “I’ve had no word.”

  Justin looked at him sternly. “I said emergency, you idiot. Do you want to explain the delay to Shang or the Chancellor?”

  The guard shook his head. Pulling a magcard key from the wallet chained to his belt, he inserted it into the lock slot on the door. With a click, the mechanism opened and Justin wrenched the heavy door open. He dashed down the small corridor and stopped in front of Alexi’s cell.

  Justin waited for the guard to reach him. “Quick! Open it.”

  The little man’s piggish eyes widened. “But Tsen Shang has taken the only keycard for this door…” Realizing what he’d said, the guard began to backpedal.

  Dammit! Justin pounced on him like a leopard, carrying the man to the ground. Justin blocked a flailed punch with his right arm, then delivered a savage chop to the throat. The guard gurgled and died.

  Justin crossed back to Alexi’s cell. “Alexi, this is Justin. Stand away from the door.”

  Alexi’s voice, weak and full of confusion, reached Justin through the door’s narrow viewport. “What? Justin?”

  “Stand back!”

  Justin stripped the glove off his left hand and curled the middle and ring fingers into his palm. Grasping the artificial hand with his right, he pulled the hand out away from the wrist, twisted it ninety degrees to the left so the thumb was up, and pulled again. The whole hand turned back flat, then slid back along the top of his forearm. At the wrist, where the hand had been, the dungeon’s dim light glinted from the muzzle of a laser weapon.

  Justin snapped the index and little fingers of his left hand up to form a crude open sight for the weapon. He centered the door’s lock between the two fingers, then tightened the muscles of his upper arm. A coruscating green beam of laser light stabbed deep into the door’s lock. In seconds the mechanism boiled away to nothingness and the beam snapped off abruptly.

  Justin frowned as smoke rose through from the cloth of his sleeve. Damn. The lasing cell is gone. I’d hoped to coax more than three shots out of it. He moved his left hand back down into place and flexed it. Mindless of the heat, he reached his left hand into the lock hole and pulled the door open.

  Alexi Malenkov had backed himself into the corner of his cell like a wild animal. “It won’t work, Justin. I know about friend-foe interrogation techniques. I don’t care how elaborate your charade is, I won’t tell you anything!”

  The wildness in Alexi’s blue eyes and the fear in his voice told Justin that his former aide was near the breaking point. Justin opened his hands. “Come with me, Alexi. Davion troops have landed, and they’ll rip this place apart looking for you. I’m going to give you up and defect at the same time. My position here is no longer tenable.”

  The hope that flashed in Alexi’s eyes sank beneath utter disbelief. “No. It won’t work. You’d never do that. You hate the Federated Suns more than Maximilian Liao himself.”

  Justin’s face hardened. “Have it your way. I’m doing this for you, this once. I owe you. For Bethel.”

  The anger in Justin’s voice shocked its way through Alexi’s delirium. The Federated agent slumped forward and Justin caught him. “Can you walk, Alexi? Can you?”

  Haggard and exhausted, Alexi nodded weakly. “Some. My feet hurt, but I’ll manage.” His right arm, which he’d draped over Justin’s shoulders, tightened down around Justin’s neck. “It’ll never work, Justin!”

  Justin, feeling the arm move, ducked his head out of the stranglehold and shoved Alexi across the hallway into the wall. Alexi rebounded, turning to face the Maskirovka agent, but Justin laid him out with a right hook to the jaw. Alexi slumped down over the body of the guard.

  Andrew blasted an Enforcer that barred his way to the palace ’Mech bay. The Liao ’Mech’s autocannon blew a series of craters into the armor over the Marauder’s right thigh while the large laser burned a scar across the heavy ’Mech’s left arm. Andrew’s assault, mixing the PPC and medium laser of his right arm with the torso-mounted autocannon’s metal storm, stripped the armor off the Enfo
rcer’s right side.

  Like a living creature suffering a stroke, the Enforcer shuddered when its right flank ignited. The torso muscles controlling movement of the right arm burned through in an instant, dropping the autocannon’s muzzle toward the ground. At the same time, thigh muscle insertions in the abdomen melted away. Robbed of stability and mobility, the Enforcer crashed to the ground.

  Three long strides deeper into the fog brought Andrew to the palace ’Mech bay doors. He hammered both of the Marauder’s arms in overhand blows against the doors. Amid the screams of torn metal hinges and snapping chains, half of the doors collapsed and green vapor drifted into the bay.

  Andrew moved with it, and toward the back of the structure, he found what he was looking for. Yen-Lo-Wang stood silent and solitary guard beside the entrance to the palace proper. Andrew smiled, raising the Marauder’s arms in a silent challenge, then noticed that the ’Mech’s canopy hung open and the pilot’s ladder had been run out from the cockpit to the floor.

  He walked the Marauder over beside the Centurion, then hunkered down. If you aren’t here now, you will be later. I can wait. He nodded to himself as he watched the door into the palace. I can wait as long as it takes.

  Justin knelt by Alexi, pressing two fingers to either side of the man’s Adam’s apple to check his pulse. Rapid and strong. Good.

  Justin looked at the filthy prison clothes they’d given Alexi and at the burn marks on his toes from where they’d strapped electrodes during interrogation. All that and you didn’t break? Where the hell does my father find people like you?

  Justin hefted Alexi up onto his left shoulder and carried him from the security cell area. As he ascended the stairs from the depths of the dungeons, the sounds of fighting grew louder and the thick scent of burning myomer hung in the air. Panicked servants ran through the hallways and corridors, but no one so much as slowed when they saw Justin.

  The Maskirovka man chewed his lower lip. I have Alexi out of his cell. Now how do I get the both of us to the Feds? An even larger problem loomed up in his mind. And how the hell do I get out of here?

  He glanced down the corridor leading to the ’Mech bay. With all the fighting going on outside, Yen-Lo-Wang seems to make sense. Everything I need is in there. Smiling, Justin kicked open the door to the ’Mech bay and stepped through.

  His smile died as the Marauder reared up on its feet and shoved both arms toward him. Andrew Redburn’s voice, full of anger and ridicule, burst from the Marauder’s external speakers. “I knew you’d come here, Justin Xiang, and I’ve been waiting.” His cruel laughter filled the bay. “Any last words before I blow you away?”

  Chapter 50

  NUSAKAN

  ISLE OF SKYE

  LYRAN COMMONWEALTH

  24 OCTOBER 3029

  Daniel Allard tight beamed a radio message to Morgan Kell as his Archer marched into the arena. “Colonel, don’t! You don’t have to do this. We’re not back on Mallory’s World. We can take them—even after fighting against the Fifth Sword, we outnumber them.”

  Morgan’s deep voice came back strong and calm. “Thank you for that observation, Captain Allard. What you do not realize is that, in the end, it would come down to this fight between Yorinaga Kurita and me. It’s better this way.”

  Dan frowned, but words failed him as Yorinaga’s Warhammer, in its march to the arena, moved into Dan’s sights. Automatically, Dan’s right hand kept the crosshairs trained on the large, PPC-armed BattleMech, but his computer never even acknowledged the Warhammer’s existence. Just like Morgan on Mallory’s World and just the way Yorinaga was when he killed Patrick Kell.

  Dan shifted his crosshairs over to Morgan’s Archer and saw the instruments ignored him as well. These two…the computer pays no more attention to them than it would to ghosts. A sudden shiver ran down his spine. Perhaps that’s it. Maybe they should have died back on Mallory’s World and the computers understood that. They’ve just been waiting for living folks to realize it as well.

  Morgan’s voice filled Dan’s neurohelmet, but he knew instantly that Morgan was not speaking for his benefit. “I am Morgan Kell. I apologize for missing our appointment on Ryde.”

  Yorinaga’s reply came in precise, practiced English. “I am Yorinaga Kurita. I apologize for the intervention of these other warriors.” He hesitated for a moment, then continued. “If you require time to rearm your ’Mech, we can temporarily postpone this battle.”

  “I thank you for your courtesy, but that is not necessary.”

  The echoes of Morgan’s reply still ringing in his ears, Dan keyed up a radio frequency he knew Cat Wilson monitored. “Cat, I thought Morgan was out of missiles. Did you see him rearm?”

  Cat’s bass voice contained a disquieting note of concern. “No.”

  Dan’s mouth went dry. “What’s going on?”

  The doubtful tone of Cat’s voice undercut the confidence of his words. “Morgan knows what he’s doing. This is his fight.”

  Morgan’s Archer executed a slight bow in Yorinaga’s direction. “Thirteen years ago, in a battle between us, I discovered something within myself that could make me invincible. I spent the next twelve years in a monastery running away from it.”

  Yorinaga returned the bow with his Warhammer. “In that same battle I saw, in you, the seeds of invincibility. In exile in a Zen monastery, I spent the next eleven years remembering, studying, and working to gain your secret. Now I believe I share your gift, but the only way to test that belief is to defeat you.”

  Controlled fury poured through Morgan’s voice. “You call it a gift, but that gift is a horrible and terrible burden. I stalked the battlefields on Lyons and here on Nusakan knowing none of those I faced could touch me. Look at this Archer! After a day in the heart of battle, I am untouched! At the same time, there is not a ’Mech I targeted that did not go down. They were like children, like toys. They stood no chance.”

  Puzzlement underscored Yorinaga’s reply. “And you consider this a burden? You are a warrior, as was your brother and as am I. Does not our vocation demand us to become as great as possible? Is that not what you see as the pinnacle of attainment? We honor those we destroy by giving them a warrior’s death.”

  Morgan’s voice was grim and flat. “Death honors no one, and if we fight, we will kill each other. You know that, as do I. I offer you this chance. Let us both be reasonable. Let us both walk away and return to exile.”

  “To do this would bring shame upon us both, Colonel Kell.”

  “I don’t care about shame, Tai-sa Kurita.” Morgan’s voice faded to a whisper. “I will not kill you.”

  The Warhammer bowed again. “Then I must kill you.”

  Searing blue snakes of man-made lightning struck from the Warhammer’s forearm-mounted PPCs. One gnawed hunks of half-melted ceramic sheeting from the virgin armor on the Archer’s right arm. The second particle beam slashed like a sword cut across the Archer’s midsection, dropping a ribbon of molten armor to the ocher talus at the pit floor.

  Morgan moved the Archer to the right, but failed to bring the ’Mech’s arms up to use the medium lasers mounted therein. Dan marveled at the agility and grace of the maneuver, but Morgan’s lack of offense confused him. Hit him, Morgan. You picked Sword ’Mechs apart like a surgeon. Nail him!

  Yorinaga’s right PPC lashed the Archer with another azure energy beam. It flayed armor from over the ’Mech’s heart, blasting more shrapnel down into the debris that lined the arena. The Warhammer’s medium laser likewise ripped armor from the ’Mech’s body. Two parallel scars ran from the Archer’s right shoulder to its abdomen, blackened, melted armor puckering up on both sides of them.

  A flight of SRMs leaped from the launching rack on the Warhammer’s right side. They peppered the Archer with a series of explosions that chipped armor away. One slammed into the Archer’s right shoulder, destroying Morgan’s regimental identifier, but failed to pierce the Archer’s armored hide.

  Morgan lunged the Archer forward, but Yo
rinaga danced the Warhammer backward, circling to his right. The Warhammer’s twin lasers stabbed out from its chest and lanced into the Archer. One melted a crater into the armor on the Archer’s left arm, while the other whittled away all but the last of the armor over the Archer’s heart.

  Yorinaga swung both of his PPCs into line with the advancing Archer, triggering another pure energy assault. The cerulean beams vaporized all the remaining armor on the Archer’s right arm, then ate away the myomer muscles driving the heavy limb. Their vitality not yet spent, they reduced the Archer’s ferro-titanium arm bone to argent metallic mist and hurled the arm from the arena.

  The Archer, just as it had done thirteen years before, stumbled and fell to its knees.

  Dan’s heart rose to his throat. It’s happening again, but Morgan’s not fighting back. It’s like he wants to die, to die the way he should have on Mallory’s World! Dan beamed an urgent message to the Archer. “Dammit, Morgan! Do something! Do something, or you’re dead!”

  Morgan did not reply over the radio, but Dan knew he’d been heard when the Archer’s LRM launch pods snapped open on the humanoid ’Mech’s shoulders.

  Yorinaga let loose with every weapon on his ’Mech. Exploding missiles wreathed the Archer in flames and shrapnel. A cloud of PPC-spawned plasma rolled over the mercenary’s ’Mech, boiling off armor in its hellish heat. The Warhammer’s medium lasers raked like talons across the Archer’s armored hulk, and its small lasers cored twin holes like a viper strike on their target’s left leg. The Kuritan’s chest-mounted chain gun vomited a dizzying hail of bullets into the maelstrom of destruction, blasting little bits of armor away with their metallic bites.

  Dan slammed his fist against his command console. “Now, Morgan! Use the missiles!”