Warrior, coupe

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Xiang's dark, almond eyes flashed with emotion. "There are many things I respect about the Federated Suns, Lord Victor. But you should not imagine that my respect in any way dilutes my desire for vengeance after being humiliated and exiled by Hanse Davion and my father."

  Xiang stripped the glove from his left hand, letting the flesh-like garment fall to the carpet. The camera focused on his hand as he brandished it. The light from the holo's harsh spotlights glittered off the metal seams. "I gave a piece of my flesh, and my whole heart and soul for the Federated Suns, but I got nothing in return. Your Prince turned against me, and I am more than happy to reciprocate."

  Xiang thrust the envelope into Robertson's hand. "These are all the documents we require to return the body to you. We even included the original of Michael's death warrant. I'm sure the Prince will frame it."

  Robertson accepted the documents as Xiang turned away. Both men signaled their soldiers to move forward. Directly at the center of the carpet, opposite the spot marked by the ComStar Acolyte, the Fifth Syrtis Fusiliers accepted the body of their slain master in silent dignity. Only their taut expressions and fury-filled eyes showed their hatred for the Capellans.

  Morgan hit the remote control switch. "You told me a number of days ago that you'd received word that my father was injured, but that you could provide no details. Then I get this delivered by messenger. I nearly went mad when I watched it! And when I come here to find out what you know, I'm told you're giving a press conference!"

  Morgan shot to his feet and came eye to eye with his uncle. "My God, Hanse, why didn't you wait? Why didn't you speak to me first?'

  Morgan thrust a finger at the monitor. "You told the reporters you accepted responsibility for my father's death. You should have stopped him. You shouldn't have allowed him to go to Sian."

  Hanse raised himself to his full height. "Allowed him to go? I did no such thing. Your father went of his own accord, and Liao killed him for very good reasons."

  Morgan hesitated. "But you said . .."

  "Damn what I said! Those were reporters. They have no idea what really goes on in the world. They ferret out the truth beneath the headlines we give them, but they never realize that what they see as bottom is merely the roof on the level below that!"

  Hanse looked at both Morgan and Lady Kym. "What I tell you now cannot go beyond these walls." Hanse pointed at the couch. "Sit down, Morgan." His nephew shook his head, folding his hands behind his back like a MechWarrior standing at ease. Hanse softened his voice. "Please, sit down."

  Morgan seated himself as Hanse crossed to the holovid monitor and shut it off. "That packet of papers contained enough information for Quintus to fit the last few pieces of a puzzle together. We knew, for a host of reasons, that military information was being leaked from our forces to the Maskirovka. We also knew, because of the speed with which the information was received on the enemy side, that the information came from someone close to your father. We knew how long it took information to reach Liao because Alexi Malenkov, Justin Xiang's aide, works for Quintus Allard."

  Hanse held out both hands to stop the question on Morgan's lips. "We believed the mole was your father's good friend, Count Anton Vitios."

  Morgan shook his head. "That's impossible. Vitios's family died in a Liao raid on Verio. He's got a pathological hatred of anything Capellan." Morgan glanced over at Quintus Allard. "We all saw that when he prosecuted your son for treason."

  Quintus nodded. "We believed, as some of our psychologists did, that Vitios went round the bend when he began to believe that neither the Prince nor your father was doing enough to fight Liao. By giving Liao information, he could manufacture weaknesses that would prompt Liao to make disastrous attacks. We discovered, in fact, that troop strengths for your father's units were listed as being understrength when passed to Liao."

  The Prince nodded slowly. "We used this information leakage to set up our ambush of Liao troops back in January. It was an unmitigated disaster for Liao. It was not until after the attacks had been organized, and Liao troops sent on their missions, that we sent information to your father reporting what we had done. Instead of arresting Vitios, your father fled to Sian."

  Openmouthed, Morgan stared at Hanse Davion, then slowly shook his head. "No, that's not possible. My father would never do anything like that." Morgan shuddered. "You're saying my father betrayed the Federated Suns."

  Hanse looked down at Morgan and felt his chest tighten. Yes, it hurts to hear it. It is well that we keep the whole truth from you. "It was not treason, Morgan, though it might seem like it. Michael had negotiated a truce with Liao. No, he did not have my sanction to do so, but your father was semi-autonomous in the Capellan March and he did what he must to protect his people. His action angers me, but I can understand it."

  Morgan rubbed his forehead with his left hand. "So my father went to Sian to persuade Maximilian Liao that he had not knowingly violated their agreement..."

  "And Liao, having just learned of the attacks and their results, blamed your father for the failures. Liao did not take into account the fact that he could not have recalled his troops in any event. Because the Liao forces traveled through uninhabited star systems, the ComStar network could not have been employed to warn them about the traps."

  Hanse squatted in front of Morgan and looked up into his eyes. "Your father made an error in judgment, not in loyalties. Had he come to me, I would have credited him with an incredible stroke of genius in using Liao's Maskirovka against him. He chose not to trust me, and he died for that mistake."

  The Prince straightened up. "The body is being taken back to New Syrtis. Political control of the Capellan March has been transferred to your mother. Military control will go to Marshal Vivian Chou. I have a command circuit ready to take you to New Syrtis."

  Morgan shook his head slowly. "With all the JumpShips you have committed to the war, the circuit to New Syrtis cannot be complete."

  "No, it's not. The trip to New Syrtis will take a month because each JumpShip must make two jumps. That adds four weeks for recharging the Kearny-Fuchida drives during the trip."

  Morgan sighed heavily. "I would arrive too late for the services." He stood. "Uncle, give me the Fifth Syrtis Fusiliers and let me avenge my father."

  Morgan's plea stabbed into Hanse's heart. Dammit, Morgan, I cannot honor your request. The Fifth Syrtis is riddled with men who would avenge Michael's death by coming after me. I cannot trust you with a pack of vipers like that. With you at their head, they might succeed in fomenting a revolt in the Capellan March. Your father could use them to reach out from the grave and do to me in death what he could never manage in life.

  Hanse shook his head. "We have gone over this time and again. Until Melissa bears me a child, you are my heir. I will not give Liao a chance to extinguish the hopes of House Davion and House Hasek. I know it chafes like a coffle, but your duty is to remain here, hale and hearty, ready to lead if I need you."

  "No, Hanse, this is not like the other times." Morgan balled his fists. "Before I wanted to fight Liao to bring glory to House Davion. That was my motivation and my desire, but my father's murder has changed things. Now I must avenge his death."

  Hanse narrowed his eyes. "If I refuse, will you strike out on your own, make your own deals, and fight your own war?"

  Morgan started to answer, then stopped as Hanse's trap opened up before him. He let his fists drop limply to his side. "No, Prince Hanse Davion, I am not so much my father's son to do that. I serve you in whatever capacity you demand of me." He bowed his head. "Now, my Lord, if you will permit me, I would beg your leave to mourn my father."

  Hanse nodded silently and reluctantly let Morgan Hasek-Davion leave the room. Mourn him, Morgan, but learn a lesson from his death. Your loyalty must ever be to the Federated Suns. If you falter, if the people who supported your father are able to seduce you, then you will suffer your father's fate.

  3

  Sian

  Sian Commonality, Capel
lan Confederation

  20 March 3029

  Justin Xiang slapped a new power pack into the Magna laser carbine, then looked around the corner. He snapped his head back as the two silhouetted figures deeper in the corridor triggered a ruby burst at him. He crouched as best his exoskeleton would allow, then dove into the corridor, rolled and came up on one knee. His finger tightened on the trigger.

  Hot scarlet darts of laser fire raked across the corridor. One bolt hit a guard high in the chest, flaring like a meteor against the man's ablative vest. The guard stiffened, then dropped flat on his back. The other guard caught three bolts stitching their way from his right hip to his left shoulder. The impact spun him around, then dropped him into a rigid heap.

  Justin ran up the corridor and knelt beside the men he'd shot. He pushed their guns beyond their reach, then turned and signaled to the men hunkered down behind him. Two of them swept on past him and took up positions on either side of the door to the exterior. Not bad, so far. We've only lost three out of our dozen. I can stand 25 percent casualties. He narrowed his brown, almond-shaped eyes. Even more—this mission is that important.

  The other six team members moved up to Justin's position. The rear guard kept their weapons pointed back down the corridor to cut off any pursuit. The other three people—known to the assault team as "mules"—sought out what cover they could find. The samples filling the satchels on their web belts made for a bulky outline, but they managed to make themselves small targets nonetheless.

  Justin turned to the two men at the facility's entrance. He nodded, sending them through the doorway. One twisted, stood, then fell back against the door jamb as he took fire from outside. The second man jerked himself back through the doorway, but his legs no longer worked.

  "They've got a Locust out there!"

  Dammit! All the 'Mechs were supposed to be drawn off by our diversion! Justin whirled. "Ling! Maximovitch! Get those V-LAW rockets ready. Be at the door. I'll draw it off."

  Justin took a hand-held short-range missile launcher from one of the mules. Glancing through a transparent spot in the launcher, he saw a small piece of the red designator band running around the warhead. Good. An Inferno round. It won't kill the Locust, but the jellied fuel it'll spray all over will screw up its infrared sensors. Scanning for heat patterns must be how it knew I had two men on either side of the doorway.

  Justin handed his carbine to one of the mules, then pointed toward the sprinklers running along the center of the ceiling. "If you please, Mr. Chung, let's cool this place down."

  One shot started the whole line of sprinklers spraying. Justin let the water soak his clothing enough to kill his IR outline, then bolted for the doorway. Once he hit sunlight, he cut to the right, away from where the team's 'Mechs waited, and back toward the Locust.

  Fool! You expected us to go for our 'Mechs to fight you! Justin brandished the missile launcher like a gauntlet to be thrown down in challenge. That's an error you'll not soon make again!

  The Locust tried to pivot quickly, but the awkward-looking 'Mech was not built for swift lateral movement. The stubby wing on the ten-meter tall 'Mech's left side geysered spent machine gun shells as the pilot tracked the weapons pod after Justin, but the Maskirovka agent sprinted beyond the edge of the machine gun's arc. The pilot, while continuing to turn his 'Mech, swung the Locust's underslung laser into line with the running man.

  Justin dropped to his knees, skidding to a halt only three meters from where the laser's hot burst sizzled through the air. As waves of heat washed over him, Justin rose to one knee. He settled the missile launcher's heavy weight on his right shoulder, clamped his metallic left hand to the barrel, then let the missile fly.

  In the space of a heartbeat, the Inferno rocket crossed the twenty-five meters to its target. Instead of slamming into the ferro-ceramic alloy armor covering the Locust, the missile blossomed like a horrific, fiery flower. Tendrils of thick, syrupy chemicals shot out over the 'Mech, coating it like honey, then burst into flames.

  Crouching in the doorway, Ling and Maximovitch appeared. Their missiles flew straight through the conflagration and exploded against the Locust's hull. Both missiles splashed a black cloud over the 'Mech, but the fire quickly consumed the paint as additional fuel.

  Justin raised his left fist in congratulations. Discarding the empty launcher, he pressed his right hand to his throat mike and keyed a channel to his partner. "That should be it, Tsen. We're clear. What was our time?"

  Tsen Shang's rich voice came back immediately, but seemed to lack some of the emotion Justin might have expected. "Twelve point two-three minutes. You shaved a minute and a half off the last time."

  Justin smiled. "And we got one more person out this time. The mission worked even without gassing the whole complex. This operation is definitely viable."

  "Roger." Irritation rimmed Tsen's voice. "The Chancellor wants you to report to him immediately. Don't bother cleaning up. It won't matter to him."

  "Roger."

  Justin dropped his hand from the throat mike, then frowned. Tsen Shang had been acting strangely ever since his counterattack against the Davion storehouses had turned out to be a big trap. He was blameless though, because he'd been forced to use Michael Hasek-Davion's intelligence reports to plan the assault. There was no way Tsen could have known the information had been tailored by Davion's own Intelligence Ministry. No one could have guessed it.

  Justin shrugged his way out of his equipment harness, letting it clank to the ground. He pointed it out to one of the men returning from extinguishing the fire on the remotely controlled Locust. He considered freeing himself of the exoskeleton's grip, but decided there was not time. Unless someone shot him with a down-powered laser blast, the suit would not stiffen up to simulate a wound—thereby causing a problem.

  The downturn in Tsen Shang's attitude rubbed at Justin's consciousness like an ill-fitting boot against the heel. He had expected Shang to be glad Justin had persuaded the Chancellor not to execute him or exile him to Brazen Heart. Instead, it only seemed to make Shang more sullen. Justin knew it, too. Romano Liao had something to do with the other man's mood swings. He shook his head. She's definitely a candidate for retroactive birth control.

  Justin had first met Tsen Shang two years before on the Game World, Solaris Vll. Tsen, a Maskirovka agent, had posed as a wealthy Capellan noble sponsoring a team of heavy 'Mechs in the gladiatorial combats on Solaris. Justin, newly exiled from the Federated Suns, had fought well and changed the fortunes of the Capellan Confederation in the games. Based on some of Justin's actions, Tsen Shang quickly realized that the son of Davion's Intelligence Minister could be a valuable asset to the Capellan Confederation. Shang abducted Justin, and Maximilian Liao himself recruited Justin into the Maskirovka.

  Justin and Tsen worked closely together and developed a plan for streamlining the Maskirovka to make it more efficient. Maximilian Liao accepted the plan, put it into place, then appointed Justin and Tsen to head up the omnibus "Crisis Team." That saddled both men with great responsibility and brought them into close contact with the Capellan royal family.

  Justin smiled as he walked from the simulation range toward the Spring Palace. Very close contact, indeed. Romano went after Tsen like a vampire after a Spican bloodfish. She wanted him as her own pet Maskirovka agent, and she got him. I suspected she would eventually direct him against me to solidify her power-base, but my involvement with her older sister made Romano hate me so much she stepped up her efforts. Shang is caught between our friendship and her manipulation. Unfortunately, Romano is winning . . .

  Justin forced himself to pause for a moment. He drew in a deep breath, letting the clean, fresh scent of spring wash away the last vestiges of Inferno stink. He glanced beyond the boxy palace to the distant line of tall pines. The darkness of the woods looked so inviting that he momentarily considered bolting for its sanctuary.

  Reluctantly, he rejected that plan. A split between Tsen and me is probably inevitable. And his d
iscovery that my aide Alexi Malenkov was spying on Romano did nothing to put me back in his good graces. He probably told Romano about the surveillance, but she hasn't tried to have me killed. It must be that my anger at her attempted assassination of my father frightened her. She's not gotten Tsen to oppose me outright yet, but his sour attitude about Operation Intruders Communion probably means his resistance is weakening.

  "Justin, wait!"

  The sound of Candace Liao's voice brought a smile to Justin's face. As tall as he, she quickly closed the distance between them with long-legged strides. Her gray eyes flashed mischievously as she took Justin's right hand, and her long black hair fell forward of her shoulders to frame her lovely face.

  Justin squeezed her hand, then kissed her on the lips. "Good morning." Justin squinted up at the sun like a mariner measuring its arc. "What are you doing up this early?"

  Candace gave him a mock-pout. "You should have awakened me. I told you I wanted to watch the rehearsal of your operation."

  Justin smiled teasingly. "That is not what you mumbled this morning when I crawled out of bed."

  Candace raised an eyebrow. "You never tried to wake me up."

  Justin laughed. "I did so. You, my Duchess, had ordered me to do just that, and I made a valiant attempt at fulfilling my duty. This morning, however, you countermanded that order."

  "What did I say?"

  Justin slipped his arms around her. "It was either 'good luck' or 'gimmee covers.' " He kissed the tip of her nose. "I translated that into your desire to sleep in."

  Tension tightened the corners of her eyes. "I appreciate it, lover, but you should not have done it. There are things I should have accomplished already today."

  Justin shook his head. "Ease off, Candace. I know you're worried about what Hanse Davion is going to do in the area of your St. Ives Commonality, but we've absolutely no indication that he's planning a strike against your holding."