Binding Force

by Loren L. Coleman

  Aris’ Wraith sent a series of scarlet pulses toward the Rifleman while Justin thumb-selected cluster ammo for his autocannon, then stroked the main trigger and gave the Rifleman something to think about.

  Cluster ammo, like the LB-X autocannon itself, was one of the rediscovered technologies that had been lost for so long in the wars following the collapse of the Star League. The ammo fragmented into submunitions shortly after leaving the barrel, working much like an anti-Mech shotgun. As Justin maneuvered his Hatchetman to make it a more difficult target, he watched through his viewscreen as the cluster submunitions chipped deeply into several locations on the Rifleman and scoured paint off the side of the warehouse behind it. He noticed with satisfaction that a few of the fragments struck the enemy ’Mech’s head, which was guaranteed to shake up the pilot inside. The Rifleman withdrew behind the corner of the building, and Justin paused to see how things were going.

  A fifth Hiritsu BattleMech was just entering the water, and the sixth, a Blackjack, held the dockside with Aris. Both it and the Wraith would lean out from behind opposite ends of the small dock warehouse, snapping off shots of red and green laser fire and then ducking back behind cover. Occasionally they took a hit, but more often the warehouses absorbed the punishment.

  “Into the water, Justin.” Aris’ order came through just as the wall shattered in front of his Wraith, exploding outward in a rain of brick and metal that half-buried his ’Mech.

  Justin moved quickly to Aris’ side, exposing himself to scattered laser fire. His targeting computer painted threats onto his HUD. Four of the Von Luckner tanks held the opposite side of the loading yard, covering the approach of half a dozen BattleMechs, which were moving to flank the Hiritsu warriors. Grabbing the Wraith by one arm, Justin dragged it back into the cover of the warehouse. He knew what had to be done. Aris Sung would never abandon his people. He’d be the last one to cross, and with those damned Von Luckners closing he’d likely pay for it with his life.

  Justin would not permit that to happen. He believed in Aris Sung, in his company leader’s skill and in the plan he had crafted, which would see the House to victory on Kaifeng. “We have to get across,” Justin said, positioning himself so that the Wraith was between him and the river.

  “Someone has to guard the crossing,” Aris replied, moving to return to his position at the dockside entrance. “Get into the water, Justin. Now!”

  Conditioned obedience almost forced Justin away. You did not disobey a House superior; you did not even question those orders without invitation. But just as strong was his personal loyalty to his company leader and his fellow warriors. They would need Aris Sung more than they would ever need Justin Loup.

  “Someone will,” Justin said, though he wasn’t sure whether he said to himself or to Aris. Working the control sticks, he drew in his BattleMech’s arms and then shoved the Wraith with all the strength the Hatchetman’s myomer muscles could give him. The Wraith stumbled backward, teetering at the edge of the dock. Then Aris surrendered to gravity and jumped into the river rather than tumble in.

  Justin slammed down hard on his throttle pedals, engaging his jump jets before Aris could recover from the push. Rising on jets of plasma, he sailed over the Blackjack and toward the advancing mercenaries. He throttled the jump jet output and maneuvered the Hatchetman into a landing directly behind the advancing Von Luckners. Sixty seconds, he thought, calculating roughly how long it would take Aris’ Wraith to wade across. I only have to buy him a minute.

  He slammed his hatchet twice into the turret of the rearmost Von Luckner, caving it in before the others could even react to his presence. Then Justin was moving again, racing about the yard to make himself as difficult a target as possible. He moved in short bursts of speed, pivoting sometimes to run back the way he’d come but never staying still. And when possible, he struck out at any enemy unit in range.

  On his first complete circuit of the open yard, he traded laser barrages with an enemy Cicada and staved in the side of a second Von Luckner with a kick.

  On the second circuit he feathered his jump jets to take him to his far left, and with the hatchet cut off a JagerMech’s left arm.

  On his third pass he fired the jump jets again, this time landing directly behind the Cicada he’d damaged earlier and driving his hatchet through its weakly armored back and into its gyro housing. The light ’Mech dropped like an unstrung puppet.

  Exhilaration coursed through Justin, goading him to greater acts. A burst from his autocannon and lasers savaged a third Von Luckner, and a swipe of his hatchet severely damaged an Enforcer. Justin was just beginning to think there might be some hope he would actually fight his way free. Another pass, he told himself. Maybe two. Then into the river and away.

  The AC/20 fire caught his Hatchetman in its already damaged right leg, severing it at the knee and dropping the hapless ’Mech onto its side. Justin was thrown roughly against the restraining straps of his command couch, the edges of the wide belts cutting into his shoulders and waist as he was wrenched about.

  He tasted blood in his mouth, and a sharp pain in his left shoulder promised a dislocation or possibly a broken bone. His primary monitors were out, showing either dark or snow-filled screens. His damage schematic still functioned, listing a wrecked autocannon, missing leg, and a fusion reactor encased by shielding now more myth than fact. He rolled his ’Mech slightly forward and half rose by propping one arm underneath. He shook his head slightly, trying to clear his mind. Through his viewscreen he studied the scene and hung onto a coal of resistance.

  Two Von Luckners were closing now, autocannons ready. The JagerMech had already passed him, heading for the river’s edge, and the Enforcer was in the process of doing the same. That they so easily dismissed a warrior of House Hiritsu who still possessed at least a partially functioning ’Mech angered Justin and fanned that coal into flame. The Rifleman from earlier already stood at the edge of the docks, perhaps forty meters away, firing its autocannon repeatedly out over the river. That Aris was still in danger snapped Justin fully back to awareness.

  There was a final service to perform.

  He steadied himself with his other arm, its hatchet impotent against the ground. He couldn’t reach the Rifleman with any weapon better than a medium laser, but his Hatchetman had one final trick left to it. Justin overrode his cockpit stabilizers and then punched the ejection controls.

  The Hatchetman had one other distinctive feature over most BattleMechs in that it did not eject the command couch through a special blast-away panel in the cockpit ceiling. Instead, it detached the entire head on liquid propellant thrusters. With the stabilizers overridden, control was left entirely to Justin. Jaw clenched and lips skinned back against the G-forces pushing him down into his seat, he worked to keep the assembly sailing nose-down and on a straight course toward the back of the Rifleman and its infamous paper-thin rear armor. All he could see was the ground rushing by his cockpit viewscreen, and had to work mostly by instinct.

  That was enough.

  The impact came with a satisfying crunch of armor plates being crushed. The head assembly of the Hatchetman began a lazy spin as Justin lost control, arcing into the air and then straight for the wall of a dockside warehouse. Loupin’, he thought with a sickening rush of cheer, the outside world spinning—looping—by faster as his head assembly finished its short-lived flight. One of the last things he saw through his viewscreen before the expanse of brick and steel filled it was the Rifleman, toppling forward into the river with fiery chunks of metal spilling out its back from a fusion reactor overload.

  Justin laughed out loud, his voice strong and confident in his own ears. It had been the will of the House Master to take Kaifeng. Aris Sung was essential to that plan. If Justin saved Aris, that made him also essential to his House.

  What more was there?

  10

  Jinxiang Jungle

  Tarrahause District, Kaifeng

  Sarna Supremacy, Chaos March

&nb
sp; 20 July 3058

  Aris Sung stood on the edge of the river bank, dividing his attention between study of the river and the early afternoon sky. City-born and raised on the streets, Aris found communing with the natural world among his least-favorite things in the galaxy. For him, nature meant little more than bitter wind-chill or heat stroke—something to be avoided. Now, on Kaifeng, it could become an important part of the mission.

  The river was wide and slow-moving, clear near the bank but becoming murky within twenty meters of shore. Flowing roughly northeast to southwest, it connected the city of Tarrahause to its largest rice-producing plantations. Kaifeng’s moon, Nochen, produced only the smallest lunar tides, so river depth rarely varied. The Jinxiang fed into a large saltwater ocean several hundred kilometers south of Tarrahause. From his recent experience in escaping from Port Terminal 12, Aris knew that in places the river could run at least as deep as twelve meters.

  Now he lifted his eyes to the heavens once more. Large, light gray clouds drifted across the late afternoon sky, creating shadows that chilled him, dressed as he was only in a MechWarrior’s shorts, cooling vest, and steel-toed boots. It might have been any cool summer afternoon. But darker clouds were drifting in from the west, threatening heavy rains. Rain would turn much of the land they needed to traverse into a soupy mire. That would be a problem, but Aris had no idea how to predict or circumvent it.

  “Company Leader Sung?”

  He recognized the voice of Raven Clearwater as much for its huskiness as for her perfect courtesy. Her salutation alerted him well enough in advance that her approach would not startle him, yet was pitched low enough as not to be a shout. And he also recognized just the touch of a question in her tone as a way of requesting audience. Aris, too, had studied and learned the House traditions regarding courtesy, and sincerely attempted to honor them, but he knew he would never master their subtlety the way Raven had.

  “Yes, Lance Leader Clearwater.” He turned from the river after a final cursory glance up and downstream, checking that the APCs were still in place and on guard against any more surprises.

  Accompanying Raven Clearwater, though trying to maintain an extra half-step lead, was Terry Chan. Raven’s long, straight black hair framed the dark skin and chiseled features of the Navajo heritage she’d left behind in her devotion to House Hiritsu. Terry Chan’s skin seemed yellow—even jaundiced—in comparison, her dark hair shorter, finer, and with some curl at the ends. How different were these two women, Aris thought, noticing how Terry Chan’s arrogant stride seemed to say she felt superior to the world around her.

  “The Blackjack’s flooded sections have been drained and repaired to the best of our field ability,” Lance Leader Chan said without preamble. “It has lost complete mobility in the right arm, but we managed to save the laser.”

  Raven Clearwater spoke up after a polite pause. “Mech-Warrior Lewis locked the arm at a ninety-degree angle, so the laser can still be used in battle.”

  Aris peered back into the tall, vine-shrouded trees from which the two women had emerged. He could just make out his Wraith. The other BattleMechs of his company were hidden further in, taking cover in the kilometer-wide belt of jungle that bordered the river at this point. The Kaifeng government had left such stands at frequent intervals, not wanting to seriously unbalance the planet’s ecology. But it also provided the House Hiritsu warriors with reasonably safe hiding places. “So we’re ready to move out?”

  Terry Chan nodded. “Eleven ’Mechs functional and ready to deploy,” she said, her expression carefully neutral as she reminded Aris that he’d just lost a warrior.

  Aris was too experienced in minding his own composure to make any sign that her barb had struck home, though inwardly he winced. Justin Loup had traded his life to assure the safety of his company leader and the other House warriors. His sacrifice had bought them precious seconds in which to cross the river. Justin had managed a good accounting of himself, but they’d had to fish the Rifleman from the river. Aris credited Loup with kills against three heavy tanks and two BattleMechs. A fine last stand.

  But now Justin was dead and House Hiritsu had lost his courage and strength because Aris had walked his people into a trap. He had apparently underestimated the Kaifeng military leaders from the start. They’d been waiting for him at Nochen, and then again at the port terminal. Aris was sure Ty Wu Non would have something to say about that. Well, the next time it would be Aris sitting in wait while Kaifeng forces walked into a battle of his choosing. The enemy had made a mistake, and he planned to exploit it.

  “Order our warriors powered-up and ready to deploy,” he said. “We move immediately on Tarrahause.”

  Both women looked surprised, but only Terry Chan spoke up in challenge. “Tarrahause? You’re abandoning the plan?”

  The same charge Aris had repeatedly wanted to make against Ty Wu Non. It felt strange, being on the receiving end. “The plan has always been to draw the defenders out of the city, to where we could deal with them more easily and then take the city without obstacle,” he said. “We’ve accomplished this. Tarrahause has already sent out a full company supported by armor to stop us. How much more can they have as a garrison force? We move against the city now, before the mercenaries can catch up.”

  Raven glanced out across the river, at the road bordering the length of the Jinxiang and which would eventually run into Tarrahause some eight kilometers downstream. She voiced her thoughts aloud, as if trying to organize them, but Aris wondered if she was trying to speak up in support of her company leader without directly challenging Terry Chan. “We can be sure that they haven’t returned because the road across the river is the fastest route back and they haven’t passed. Any other path and we can outdistance them.”

  Aris nodded. “There’s a similar road on this side of the river about another ten klicks downstream. That will allow us to move faster. Also, I contacted the Lao-tzu. There’s been no indication of DropShip activity, so the mercenaries are on foot.”

  “But we haven’t defeated the garrison force.” Terry Chan’s tone was barely respectful.

  “The primary goal of the assault does not call for their elimination,” Aris said calmly. “It calls for stopping the flow of food to Sarna and the capture of Kaifeng. By taking Tarrahause now, we can shut down the entire district. That will put us into an improved position when the mercenaries try to retake the city.”

  “Did you pass along your new interpretation of plans to Battalion Commander Non?” Terry Chan asked, not masking her hostility.

  “He was unavailable. Kaifeng SMM supported by mercenaries are holding him out of Beijing. He had to dispatch his DropShip to deal with the surviving aerospace fighters so he’s temporarily outside communications range. In fact, only Company Leader Lindell seems to be having an easy time of it with Franklin down in the southern hemisphere.”

  Terry Chan crossed her arms defiantly, though she was phrasing her words with obvious care. “Battalion Commander Non might consider it premature to strike at Tarrahause with enemy forces in our rear. If we stay at company strength, we could continue to shut down port terminals all along the river. And if the mercenaries come at us again, we’d have the force necessary to crush them.”

  Aris felt his anger building at Terry Chan’s lack of support. First she wanted to break down into units smaller than the plan called for, and now she was arguing to go for company strength. He’d ignored her animosity when they were on equal footing within the House, but that could not be allowed to continue. Had she no respect for the traditions, if nothing else?

  “That would slow us down.” He tried to be patient. “And with the mercenaries already in the field, what you suggest gives them too much room to maneuver against us. But if we take Tarrahause, it forces them back into a narrow field of operations. It’s the same plan, only put into effect from a different direction.”

  “Better a known enemy in an open environment.”

  If Aris said the Kaifeng sky was blue T
erry Chan would argue. He felt his muscles tightening, drawing the tension across his shoulders like a cloak. “Lance Leader Clearwater, please pass my orders to the company. But tell MechWarrior McDaniels I would like to see her before she powers up.”

  “Of course, Company Leader Sung.” Raven Clearwater turned smartly on her heel as if she sensed nothing of the tension hanging between the two Hiritsu officers.

  Aris watched the various expressions that seemed to war on Terry Chan’s face. First hostility and then suspicion and finally concern. After Justin Loup, Jill McDaniels was the most accomplished Mech Warrior in the company and likely the next in line for position as a lance leader. Terry Chan was probably wondering if he planned to follow through on his earlier threat to replace her.

  “MechWarrior McDaniels is a member of my lance, Company Leader.”

  Aris stood there, watching the river and letting her worry. After the aggravation, studying the calm flow of the river—the swirls and eddies, the slow, majestic force of it—actually soothed him.

  “If you have orders, they should be passed through me.”

  Aris gave her a long, appraising glance, noticing the slight tic at the edge of her left eye that betrayed her nervousness. “Perhaps I should discuss something with you, Terry Chan.”

  “Yes, Company Leader?”

  Amazing what the implied threat of demotion did for her level of courtesy. “Chan, I know you do not like me. It does not matter whether that is due to my history, my methods of command, or my general personality. I do not care one way or another. You do not have to like me, but you will respect my position.” Or I will find someone who will, he did not say. The look on her face told him he didn’t have to.