Lethal heritage

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Victor stepped his war machine closer, putting it well inside the Rifleman's ability to bring guns to bear. He chopped the victor's left hand down on the Rifleman's right shoulder. The blow crushed ferro-ceramic armor to dust. More sparks shot out as the shoulder ground downward, then the whole limb twisted away and fell to the ground.

  The Rifleman pilot backed up bis machine half a step, then twisted to bring the left arm's guns to bear on Victor. As he did so, Galen Cox's Crusader stepped through a wall of blowing sand, grabbed the guns in both of his 'Mech's hands, and cranked them up into the air. The Rifleman's shots from both the large laser and autocannon passed well over Victor's head.

  The Crusader's hands pushed and pulled in different directions. With a metallic scream audible even through the howling storm, the gun barrels twisted out of alignment. The Victor pointed its autocannon at the Rifleman's right leg, and the Prince thumbed the trigger button. The autocannon shells peeled the armor off the Falcon 'Mech's knee, then blew through the titano-magnesium bones. The Rifleman lurched to the right, then fell on its side and rolled over onto its face.

  Victor made his 'Mech throw Galen a salute, then turned and moved on in search of more prey. As the afternoon became evening, he continued to hunt successfully. As evening became night, his autocannon exhausted its ammunition and the battle left gaping rents in his armor until there was no one left to fight.

  Galen glanced down at his noteputer. "As nearly as we can figure out, the Falcon commander knew something was up when their reinforcements did not come through the Gash. She issued the order to pull her people back so they could slip out of the Plain as evening came on. They did not expect to run into the Ninth F-C and so lost a few 'Mechs there. The Ninth is still pursuing the rest of them, but those damned 'Mechs run very cool, so they're stretching out the range on our people."

  Victor nodded. "Yeah, there's no denying they run cool. I've already had a preliminary report on a heat sink taken from one of their machines. They have some sort of doublechambered heat exchanger and a fluid with a thermal retention factor that's seven-tenths of air itself! The Techs think those units, which are about the size of our own heat sinks, probably are 150 to 200 percent more efficient than ours."

  "Hard to believe we beat them after seeing what they had going for them," Galen agreed. "The prisoners seem rather shocked at the defeat, too, but they've adapted. Mostly they want to know the name of our Clan so they know to whom they owe their allegiance." Cox laughed lightly. "The guards couldn't decide if we were the Clan Davion or Steiner, so they settled on Victor."

  Victor sighed heavily. "Just remind everyone to treat them kindly. We don't know when the tables will be turned. Hey, do you think that's them?"

  The walls of Victor's tent began vibrating back and forth as the sound of a helicopter whooped through them. Davion shot to his feet, dumping his wood and canvas campaign chair over on its back. Galen's own grin mirrored the smile spreading over Victor's face. Outside, a general cheer and applause rose up, then the tent flap opened.

  Kai Allard, his face beet-red, stepped stiffly in, then held open the flap for Deirdre Lear. After she entered the tent, he let it fall shut again and pivoted awkwardly on bandage-swathed legs. He snapped to attention and saluted Victor. Davion returned the salute, then embraced his friend in a back-slapping hug. "You don't know how happy I was when the search and rescue team reported finding you." I really thought I'd sent you out to die, my friend.

  Victor took a step back and offered Deirdre his hand. "I'm glad you were with him, Doctor, to take care of his wounds."

  "I was pleased to be of service, but if I can avoid accompanying a 'Mech into battle again, I will."

  Though puzzled by her vehemence, Victor knew this was not the time or place to probe it further. "Please, be seated." He waved his two guests to chairs. "Kai, when I sent you over to the Gash, I only expected you to report, not win the war all by yourself."

  Deirdre slipped into a chair, but Kai remained standing. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

  Something in Kai's voice and eyes hit Victor as all wrong. He's sounding like he did back at NAMA. What the hell is going on here? "Kai, we've been friends for too long for you to be calling me sir, and I recognize that tone in your voice. What is it?"

  Kai swallowed hard. "I've given this a lot of thought, Victor. I'm resigning my commission, effective immediately."

  Victor looked over at Galen and then at Deirdre, whose faces reflected his own look of shock. "What are you talking about? You just single-handedly saved our expeditionary force. You're going to have to hire someone to follow you around wearing an extra jacket to display all the medals you'll get out of this. Hell, there aren't enough honors in the Inner Sphere to reward what you've done."

  The wounded Mech Warrior held up his hand to stop Victor. "Highness, I appreciate more than you know those kind words, but all that is meaningless. You'll be able to read it in my report, but I'll give it to you in the short form now. Not only did I recklessly endanger Dr. Lear, but I issued unsatisfactory orders to one of the demolition teams. I foolishly imagined that the half-dozen armored infantry in the hospital area were the only ones in the hills. I sent some of our men back up to blow the gap, then I engaged another twenty or thirty of the armored Falcons in my Hatchetman. I knew there had to be even more of them somewhere, but I didn't try to warn Detloff or his people. The Falcons slaughtered them."

  He turned to Deirdre. "Ask her. She was there. She'll tell you." Kai lowered his eyes, his face flushed with shame. "I as good as murdered those men, Victor. I should have known better. I did know better, and I did nothing to save them. I deserve a court martial, not a medal."

  Victor looked at Deirdre. "Well, Doctor, is it as he said? Did he murder those men?"

  Conflicting emotions washed over Lear's face as she seemed to struggle for an answer. She glanced at Kai, then looked down at her own hands and interlaced fingers. When her head came up, though, she gazed at Victor without flinching. "No, he did not," she said. 'Those men were already dead. If he had not organized them and organized the evacuation of the hospital, everyone would have died. At least, in the mountains, they were able to die as men."

  Victor glanced over at Kai. "You need time to think this over. Galen, take Leftenant Allard to the hospital."

  Deirdre got up and started to follow them, but Victor placed a hand on her forearm and held her back. "Please, Doctor, wait a moment."

  "As you wish, Highness." She lowered herself into her chair again. "Is there something I can do for you?"

  Victor nodded slightly. "Kai is a good friend of mine, and I want to see things go well for him. He has never been a bastion of self-confidence, and as you just witnessed, he is overly harsh in judging himself. Even if he does not resign from the AFFC, he will never again order men into that sort of dangerous situation without more intelligence and more help for them."

  Her eyes went cold and her voice was arctic. "What has this to do with me?"

  "All right, Doctor," Victor said, putting an edge to his own voice. "You could tell me that this is none of my business, but I won't accept that. Consider it the meddling of a privileged noble or the arrogance of a Mech Warrior—I don't care. What I do care about is my friend. The friction between you two is so obvious, but he's never done anything to you. Why do you hate him?"

  She opened her mouth, then stopped abruptly and looked at the ground. "I am a doctor. It's my job, my vocation, to succor the injured. I hate war and warriors because of the destruction they cause ..."

  "Yet you've become part of the Armed Forces of the Federated Commonwealth." Davion shook his head. "Why?"

  Deirdre exhaled sharply, set her shoulders, and stood up. "I joined the AFFC to show my family and my friends that I can be loyal to your father and the state you will inherit. I joined because my family owed a debt to the Federated Suns and I was and still am determined to pay off that debt." She matched Victor's hard stare. "I joined because I will do anything I can to reverse
the horrors for which you hand out medals."

  Victor ground his teeth, but he kept his temper in check. "All right, I'll give you that, but we should save the discussion of why war is necessary for another time. Just answer me this, then you can go. Why do you hate Kai?"

  "That's easy to explain." A cruel smile twisted up the corners of her mouth. "Let me ask you this, Highness. How might you expect me to feel about the son of the man who murdered my father?"

  38

  Invasion Command, Wolcott

  Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine

  2 October 3050

  Shin Yodama gave Hohiro Kurita a confident smile and a wink as the Kanrei's son opened a widebeam broadcast to the DropShips sliding into orbit around Wolcott. "Konnichi wa, Smoke Jaguars! I am Hohiro Kurita, supreme commander of the forces defending Wolcott. I learned something of your customs while enjoying your hospitality on Turtle Bay, as did my aide, who assisted my escape from that world. To show that we are not total barbarians, I ask you how much force you intend to use in this attack so I may decide which of my resources I shall devote to repulsing your attack."

  Standing behind Hohiro near the windows of the command post, Kanrei Theodore Kurita watched his son with obvious pride. He caught Shin's gaze, shared his smile, then turned to look out the large windows. Just barely visible above the horizon to the east, a red-orange ball was rising into the night sky. Two small black dots moved slowly across its shining face. Following them, its silhouette like an arrow, one of the Clan JumpShips came into view.

  Shin frowned. It was too much to hope that after Turtle Bay they would not bring one of their warships into a battle. All his people's careful planning and hard work would be worthless if the invaders decided to scour the planet's surface with the weaponry bristling on that battlewagon.

  The crackle of a response over the radio turned Shin to face the speaker mounted high on the wall. "I am Galaxy Commander Dietr Osis. I fear you have drawn incorrect conclusions from your observations of us, Hohiro Kurita. We have come to take the planet and make it our own, and so we do not require you to bargain away your strength ..."

  "Come now, Galaxy Commander," Hohiro responded quickly. "You know that things could get nasty down here. I must, of course, defend this world against you, but I don't wish to lose more men than is absolutely necessary. As a fellow warrior, you can understand that. I desire to know how much force you will use in your attack so I can allocate my forces accordingly."

  Utter disbelief underscored Osis's reply. "Are you saying you will not commit everything you have in defense of Wolcott? You are willing to use only part of your forces in a battle to decide who will own this world?"

  A smile spread across Hohiro's face, but he kept his voice neutral. "I see that you understand my proposition precisely. I will, as has been our custom, forward to you the service records and history of my units. It will not take you long to see that I have cobbled them together from the dregs of our society. Mind you, they have all volunteered to serve, but bold heart alone does not a Mech Warrior make. Yes, I am prepared to use only part of my forces to defend Wolcott, provided the details can be worked out."

  "Details? Please elaborate."

  Hohiro glanced out the window at the JumpShip's silhouette. "You will attempt to conquer this world, a great prize should you win. I, on the other hand, battle for no special prize."

  Osis's reply came back warily. "I could offer a promise of no further attempts at conquering your world if you defeat me." The tone of his voice left no doubt in Shin's mind that the Clansman believed Wolcott's sun would go nova before that ever happened.

  "I appreciate the gesture," Hohiro sighed, "but such a promise would bind only you. Upon your death or demotion, another attack would follow almost immediately, and certainly without the civility you now show. I had hoped for something more concrete if we defeat you."

  "Such as?"

  Hohiro crossed his fingers. "Four of your frontline BattleMechs and two dozen of your power-armored suits."

  The Galaxy Commander barked a sharp laugh. "Out of the question!"

  "Why is that?" Hohiro asked in an offended tone. "You yourself believe the chances of my victory are non-existent. After the battle, when I again escape your custody and make my way back to my own people, I will need an explanation of my actions to save my reputation. Capturing some of your war material is an important enough goal that my superiors will understand my gamble. The least you can do is honor me with the illusion that I am a threat worthy of such an exchange."

  The radio fell silent for fifteen to twenty seconds, then Osis's voice returned. His answer came slowly as though he knew he would later regret his words. "Very well. If you defeat me, I will see that you receive four of our BattleMechs and two dozen suits of battle armor. I also promise that Wolcott will retain its independence if we are defeated. As for the force I will use, I tell you that it will total no more than roughly half of whatever force you offer."

  Shin narrowed his eyes. With their increased firepower, that should make them about even with us in sheer destructive capabilities. By controlling the battlefield and using terrain to our advantage, we have a shot at defeating them.

  Hohiro, his smile becoming a wide grin, nodded slowly. "It is a pleasure to deal with such a reasonable and honorable man. I will meet you at the head of the Yuutsu—the Blue Devils—in the numachi no tanima district fifteen myriameters north of my current position. In four hours? My technicians will transmit the files on the Blue Devils immediately. I will be using both regiments."

  "Four hours, then."

  "And Commander, don't worry," Hohiro added in one final barb. "If you survive a defeat, I will treat you better than your people treated me."

  Hohiro punched a button, immediately cutting off the microphone. He turned to his father. "Well, what do you think?"

  Theodore crossed to his son and rested both his hands on Hohiro's shoulders. "You did very well, my son. Osis will be uneasy, wondering if he has been manipulated, and angry at your affront. That should provide him with some serious distractions."

  The Kanrei looked at Shin. "Chu-sa, if you would be so kind ..."

  Shin stood at attention. "Kanrei?"

  "Please radio Tai-sa Narimasa Asano and tell him we will join his newly christened Blue Devils in Swamp Valley shortly." Theodore smiled wolfishly. "In four hours, we will hand the invaders the first of many bloody defeats."

  With mist rising from its brackish water and its thick, vine-laden mangrove forests, Swamp Valley reminded Shin of some demon-haunted domain from the terror tales he had listened to as avidly as a child. Gasses bubbled up in great roiling burps, bringing up viscous black sludge. Reptiles, propelled by the slow undulation of their armored tails, swam through the swamp as though resentful of this invasion but secretly waiting for men to leave their metal shells and become dinner.

  With his new Phoenix Hawk standing next to Hohiro's Trebuchet and Narimasa Asano's Crusader, Shin studied the modifications to the battlefield, which were certain to distract and confuse the invaders. Within the swamp's leafy green canopy, thousands of metallic streamers hung like tinsel on a Christian Christmas tree. Shimmering silver and gold, the streamers contained just enough metal to make the whole forest magscan as though it were made of steel, effectively hiding the army of 'Mechs waiting within its dark heart.

  To further conceal the Genyosha 'Mechs, the warriors had been ordered to shut down the heat exchangers in the torsos and arms of their machines. The only heat sinks left operating were those in the legs. Submerged in the swamp water, they were more than able to dissipate the heat generated by an idling fusion engine. Aside from raising the infrared output for the swamp in general, that precaution made the 'Mechs virtually invisible to heat scans.

  All the 'Mechs have been painted with a camouflage pattern that makes them difficult to see in the swamps, and the radar jammers will take that scanning mode away from them. Shin looked through the swamp to the vast delta downstream
of his position. After they land down there, they'll have to get within spitting distance to see us. The swamp is too wet to burn down, so they'll have to play cat and mouse with us, but on a battlefield of our choosing.

  Two eggshaped DropShips made a pass over the delta, then circled back around to hover over a sandbar. The DropShips didn't lower their landing gear, but remained at approximately ten meters above the ground. The 'Mech bay doors irised open and BattleMechs dropped to the ground in rapid succession. As they hit, they moved out and forward, establishing a perimeter and taking advantage of the little cover offered by sandbars or debris.

  Shin marveled at their efficiency. Their pilots have to be masters to hold a ship that even and level while hundreds of tons of war machines move to the door and jump out. Either they have incredibly steady hands on the controls, or their level of computer control and command integration is beyond anything we can even imagine. And the MechWarriors, too. They jump clear and move to their positions without hesitation. They seem to work in sets of five and with a coordination that suggests they've undergone intensive training together.

  A rain of smaller armored figures followed the 'Mechs out of the hatch, but they and four of the BattleMechs hung back as the other machines pushed their perimeter further out. Osis honors his bargain. There is our prize, just waiting for us to win it. I am certain he thinks to taunt us with it, but maybe it's we who will have the last laugh.

  Hohiro's voice reverberated through his neurohelmet. "This is it, Shin. I'd wish you luck, but you already have more than enough of it."

  With the flick of a finger, Shin brought his targeting computer on line. "Luck will play no part in this, Sho-sa Kurita. This is the end-game. You have already beaten the invaders, Highness. Now we just need to remind them of it."