"Nonsense. As I said before, Alyina was not your fault."
Victor's gray eyes flicked up. "If that is so, transfer me to another combat command."
"I cannot do that, Victor."
"Not in your Kathil Uhlans. I would be honored to serve there, but too many people would figure I had been given a command there because of who I am, not what I am. I won't have that." Victor closed his eyes and concentrated. "Let me serve in the Eleventh Donegal Guards or the Second Crucis Lancers."
Morgan shook his head slowly. "I cannot do that, Victor. I cannot just give you a command in another military unit. I would not do that for another officer of your rank, so if you want to avoid charges of favoritism, I suggest you refrain from asking for favors."
The remark stung Victor and he gritted his teeth to bite back the pain. "Marshal, there can be only two reasons why I am being sent for R&R with the Tenth Lyran. The first is that my performance in the field is considered disastrous. Perhaps that appears to be the case, as I've had two commands blown out from under me. I do not think it is a fair charge, however, because we faced the Clans for the first time on Trellwan, when we still did not know how to deal with them. On Alyina they shifted tactics, and we saw this too late to adapt to their new approach. Even so, we made them pay for their victory."
Victor pointed toward a porthole with his open right hand. "You cannot forget that we won on Twycross." His hand curled into a fist. "We gave the Clans their first drubbing on a Federated Commonwealth world, and the plan we used was developed by me and Kai and the other young officers ..."
"And if not for Kai's damnable luck, you would have lost the Tenth Lyran Guards on Twycross, not Alyina," Morgan snapped. His fist pounded down on the flimsy desk, scattering pens and making the computer keyboard bounce. "It appears Kai used up all his luck on Twycross, because it surely ran out on Alyina. Yes, you beat the Clans on Twycross, but only because Kai put himself in extreme danger to destroy the Falcon Guards."
"No, Marshal, with all due respect, Kai's action was not the only reason we won on Twycross." Both Victor's hands curled into fists with frustration. "Our plan was solid. We had already begun to react to the threat to our rear before we knew Kai had stopped the Falcon Guards. By the time the Guards could have reached us, we had rotated our position 130 degrees so the Guard would have to fight through their own allies to get at us. We might not have defeated them, but we would have been able to withdraw in good order. Our strategy was strong, Morgan, and you knew that before you approved the plan."
Victor's eyes blazed with anger. "And if I'm not incompetent to lead, the only other reason I'm being pulled back is because someone on New Avalon does not want me in the line of fire. They'd not pull another soldier from the front just because his mother or father wanted him pulled back, so why do they do it with me? As long as we're asking other people to put their sons and daughters at risk, I should be there leading them.
"Go ahead, Morgan, deny these orders transferring me to the rear came from New Avalon." And my father.
"Victor, I could tell you that the orders went out over your father's signature, but you know that is true of all orders I receive. That would tell you nothing and is meaningless." Morgan leaned forward, resting his palms flat against the aluminum desk top. "If your mother or father wants you out of danger or to take you out of the line of fire, they have chosen a particularly poor world to which to assign you. Port Moseby may be well behind the line between the Jade Falcons and our forces, but it is directly in the path of the Wolf Clan's advance. With the Free Rasalhague Republic demoralized and collapsing ever since the loss of Prince Ragnar to the Wolves on Satalice, you are going from the frying pan into the fire."
"I'd rather the frying pan now than the fire later."
A grin cracked Morgan's serious expression. "Of that I have to doubt. I think, however, your reasoning is flawed. You have overlooked a third reason for your reassignment."
Victor frowned, doubt entering his mind. "Which is?"
"Victor, you're only human. You've been involved in some of the heaviest fighting we've seen against the Clans. You've lost a close companion recently and your command has been badly hammered. Out of the forty 'Mechs in your command, thirteen are operational, and that's only in your very generous report of your unit's readiness. Another ten 'Mechs are salvageable, but they more closely resemble modern art than they do war machines. You lost fifteen of your pilots to death or injury and another eight will need time to heal up before they can step into a cockpit again. In short, your battalion is really just a reinforced company, and that's only your company. The rest of the Tenth Lyran Guards is in equally dismal shape."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying you need a rest. You need the time to rebuild your unit." Morgan put as sympathetic an expression on his face as possible. "You need to go with your unit to Port Moseby."
"No, dammit, Morgan, I can't." Victor poked himself in the chest with his thumb. "All my life everyone has looked at me in one of two ways: either I'm the 'little Prince' who is to be humored, or I'm the Fox's heir and therefore to be feared. Everyone has supposed, because I'm so small, that I have a Napoleon complex and am a hideous warmonger. Every time I tried to do the sort of thing my father or you would do, they say I'm a tyrant throwing a tantrum. I hate that!
"The other side of it is that everyone compares me with my father. If I show any weakness at all, if I do not do everything my father has done, I am to be pitied because I cannot possibly live up to his legendary exploits. Any failure is taken as a disaster because I'm the one who is supposed to lead after my father. Yes, he's a hard act to follow, but I know I can do it. I will do it, and do it very well, but I have to be given the chance. Sure, I expect people to look at me and say, 'That's Hanse Davion's son,' but just for once I'd like to hear them say, 'The First Prince is Victor Davion's father.' "
"Which is precisely why you have to go to Port Moseby with your troops." Morgan opened his hands. "If you don't, you seem callous and indifferent to the fate of your troops. The Tenth Lyran Guards, which is a unit that has long been commanded by individuals destined to be the Archon of the Lyran Commonwealth, is very important in the Lyran psyche. The last Steiner to lead them used that unit to destroy a Kurita offensive during the Fourth Succession War. He and his people knew it was a suicide mission and it's said the commander turned himself over to Theodore Kurita in return for the safe repatriation of the Tenth Lyran Guard survivors.
"Katrina Steiner, your grandmother, rebuilt the Tenth Lyran Guards around that core of survivors, and once again they became a force to be feared. Your command of a battalion in the Guards is taken as a positive sign of stability within the Federated Commonwealth, and the victory at Twycross was doubly special because the heir to the Lyran throne helped lead the Tenth in their defeat of the Clans."
Morgan fixed Victor with a chilling stare. "If you abandon your command, the Tenth Lyran Guards will feel they've been dishonored. They'll know you consider them a failure and their morale will never recover. If you stay with them, if you show them your determination, that unit will bounce back stronger than before. If not, the only thing that will be said of the Tenth is that they were never the same after a true Steiner led them on their last mission."
The logic of Morgan's argument hammered at Victor. As much as he wanted back into the fight against the Clans, he felt a bond with the Tenth Lyran Guards that he could not easily sunder. They did everything for me, gave everything in the fight on Alyina. I do owe them my support. His hands knotted and unknotted, then he slowly brought them together at his back.
"As much as I hate it, you have shown me the error in my thoughts. I thank you." Victor leaned forward, gripping the back of the chair in front of him. "Dammit, Morgan, you have to remember what it was like knowing you could contribute to the war, yet having to wait for what seems like an eternity to do it."
The Marshal sat back in his chair and nodded. "I do remember, Victor, which is why I know y
ou will survive it. During the Fourth Succession War, I wanted a command so bad I felt like I was on fire. Your father was adamant about not allowing me into combat because, until you came along, I was his heir. While I took great pride in that fact, I wanted to prove to him I could be a capable leader."
The older man smiled with satisfaction. "When he finally called me to him, he said it was a mission he could entrust to no one else. No matter what it was or how many men and 'Mechs I'd have to accomplish it, I would have said yes."
Victor shared Morgan's smile. 'That was the Liao raid on Kathil and your raid on the Capellan homeworld to pull Justin Allard and Candace Liao out, right?"
"Right." Morgan shook his head slowly as he remembered the battles. "I was as eager as you were, Victor, and I took hideous chances. I was lucky because the Capellan forces were not the Clans, or else I might have ended up in your position. But my point is this: you have to wait with your troops and prepare them for whatever mission you will be given. I don't know if you'll be brought back to the front, or if you'll be the only unit in the path of the Wolves. You are not being punished or safeguarded. Most other commanders would look upon a break as a reward for having accomplished so much."
Victor wearily hung his head. "I suppose you're right." I wonder how far I can push this? "I'm willing to acquiesce to your orders, but on one condition."
Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Conditions on orders? I thought you hated personal favors."
"This isn't for me, Morgan, it's for my troops." His eyes took on a devilish glint. "I want my battalion to be the first one refitted. I want to be able to start my people training immediately. I also want my battalion brought up to an operational strength of fifty BattleMechs."
Morgan steepled his fingers. "What is it you have in mind, Victor?"
"The reason we keep getting pounded by the Clans has to do more with our doctrine of war than it does with their superior weaponry. The most trouble they have had in the past is when they come up against irregular forces. We have tried to face them straight up in battle, and though we can win, as the Kuritans proved on Luthien, the cost of such victories is too great.
"I want to modify a reinforced battalion and train it specifically in tactics that will give us an edge against the Clans. I want my unit to become fast and adept at hit-and-run. We can wear them down, hitting them when and where they are not grouped in enough strength to damage us. We want to harass them.
"We'll be just like the Delta Company Andrew Redburn commanded during the Fourth Succession War." The Prince smiled sheepishly. "I was thinking of calling us the Revenants because we'd have returned from the dead to haunt the Clans."
"And you'd want to go back in at Alyina, right?"
Victor stiffened, then nodded slowly. "Am I that transparent?"
Morgan stood. Coming around from behind the desk, he clapped Victor on both shoulders. "Not transparent, just very much a missile with a hard lock onto its target. General Kaulkas warned me about your obsession."
"You'll give me the unit?"
The Marshal of the Federated Commonwealth nodded. "I will, but it is incumbent upon you, Victor Davion, to make sure your troops, your Revenants, are trained well enough so they do not become known as 'the Remnants.' "
"I will." Victor looked up. "And will you give us Alyina?"
"Perhaps." Morgan's eyes grew distant. "I think, though, you will find this war has more than one Alyina and you may be called upon to avenge more than just the death of Kai Allard."
9
Alyina
Trellshire, Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
8 February 3052
Kai Allard's axe swung down in a bright arc, snapping the log in two. Letting the axe remain in the scarred block, he bent down and tossed the two pieces on the cord stacked at the back of the Mahler home. "No, Erik, you can't persuade me to remain here."
The white-haired man shook his head. "You've been no trouble." He rubbed at his left shoulder, the one Kai knew bore a deep scar. "And I've been very grateful for the help you've been around here."
Kai recognized the undercurrent of concern in the man's voice, but he remained resolute. "You'll never know how much you've helped me over the past three weeks. Shelter and warm food have brought me back up to full strength, and this hard work seems to have put a bit more meat on my bones. That aside, however, both Dr. Lear and I agree that our presence is a direct threat to you and your wife. If the Clans catch us here ..."
Mahler shook his head to deny the truth in Kai's words, but Kai saw the man's eyes grow distant. "The Clans have all but stopped their activity in this sector. The world has been pacified. You could stay here."
Kai wrenched the axe free of the block and set another half-log on the wooden stump. "You know as well as I that Dr. Lear and I have responsibilities to our commands."
Crack. Wood cartwheeled off the block as the axe clove through it. "You also already know far more about us than the Clans will think coincidental. For one thing," Kai said, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his left forearm, "you know I'm not Dave Jewell."
Mahler crossed his arms defensively across his chest. "And even if I knew who you truly are, why would I not help you?" His fingers undid the buttons on his red-and-black checked flannel shirt. He pulled it back to reveal the white slash of scar across his left shoulder. "The Dragons did this at Styx when they were trying to take Melissa Steiner from the Silver Eagle. The Kell Hounds saved us, and your uncle was one of them. I don't forget debts easily."
A knot formed in the pit of Kai's stomach. For the last month, despite being light years away from home, trapped on a hostile planet with no resources, Kai had felt very much alive. Dave Jewell's identity had suited him well because it freed him of his responsibility as an Allard and as a Liao. It had also relieved him of the painful feeling that he had let his family down, along with the vast pressure he always felt to succeed. That old weight came crashing down again with a vengeance, however, as Erik Mahler reminded Kai of the heroic legacy his family had bequeathed him.
"That is not a debt you owe me, Erik Mahler. Your defense of Melissa Steiner a quarter-century ago is an act that I must reward by removing the danger of the Clans discovering that you have sheltered the enemy." Again Kai set up and split a log. "Having pierced the secret of my identity, you know I have a duty to communicate back to Prince Davion, and you know I cannot and will not let anything prevent me from acquitting that duty."
Mahler hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. "You are correct. I knew that all along. I would not have asked you to stay, knowing what you had to do, but I felt I had to make the offer, and my wife already worries about you and Dr. Lear." He tugged his shirt back into place and rebuttoned it. "Are you sure it is wise to take her with you?"
"I would prefer to travel alone, for speed and to minimize risk, but she will not stay here to jeopardize you." Kai placed the quarter-logs on the pile. "Besides, having someone along who is well-versed in medicine might help get me through any trouble we run into."
"That's not what I meant." Mahler snorted a bit of a laugh and shook his head. "After the first night here, you two have barely exchanged more than formal greetings. Your relationship doesn't seem up to the difficulties you will face if you follow through with your plan."
"Perhaps you are correct." Kai heaved his shoulders and sighed. "But I do not believe Dr. Lear will hamper my efforts. She is smart and competent, and I could not ask for more in a traveling companion."
"Indeed? Then you are a rare man, Dave Jewell." Mahler's gray eyes narrowed. "I, for one, would want a companion who did not hate me."
Despite their protestations to the contrary, Erik Mahler insisted upon driving Kai and Deirdre to the nearby city of Dove Costoso in his hovertruck. Hilda packed them a picnic lunch and filled Kai's knapsack with some civilian clothing she'd tailored to fit the two of them. When Kai refused to take anything that he'd not brought to them, Hilda assured him she had removed any tags that might let the Clans
trace their benefactors. Kai knew instantly that she would brook no argument, so he acquiesced.
Secretly he was very pleased with everything the Mahlers had done for him and Deirdre. Hilda had stripped the chemical lines out of his cooling vest, leaving it a warm, bulletproof garment Kai could wear unnoticed under one of Erik's cast-off woolen shirts. She also let out the seams on some trousers so Kai could wear his 'Mech boots beneath them without attracting too much attention. She'd even removed all traces of his and Dave Jewell's name tags from the clothes he had carried with him.
Erik and Kai labored to fill the bed of the hovertruck with a blocky table Erik had made and some firewood Kai had chopped. With Erik, Deirdre, and Kai crammed into the front seat, they would look like a family from the outlying area heading into Dove Costoso to do some selling in the farmers' market there. That was their cover story, so Kai hid his needle pistol under the bench seat in the unlikely event a patrol became suspicious.
Hilda, her eyes glistening with tears, nodded approval. "You can always come back here, you know, if you must."
"I know," Deirdre said, putting her arms around the older woman and hugging her tightly, "I cannot thank you enough for all your help."
"Just be safe, Deirdre. That's all I ask." Kai also hugged Hilda and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you very much, Frau Mahler. We will be fine."
"Send word, if you can."
"We will," Kai told her, but both of them knew it was a lie.
* * *
Erik's route to Dove Costoso took them straight across the Bolliti swamp. "For the two of you to have traveled this way on foot would have been disastrous. If the alligators and quicksand missed you, the brutto vapore would surely have ended your little trek."
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