Warrior, coupe

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Jeana nodded woodenly as the commentator's deep voice replaced the fading music. "Combine troops landed on Lyons in force in a daring strike behind the front. They hoped their assault on an unprotected world would extinguish our will to fight, but they couldn't have been more wrong. They landed without opposition, but soon found themselves engaged in a battle to the death with the famous mercenaries, the Kell Hounds."

  Battle footage, cut together from the sensor output of both Kell Hounds and captured Combine 'Mechs, flashed across the screen. Jeana and Misha watched as the red and black 'Mechs of the Kell Hounds regiment advanced through the smoking ruin of what had once been New Freedom. "Though the town has been swept clean of opposition, the Kell Hounds are still vigilant. The night before, however, the Combine Mech Warriors made the battle for this small outpost a thing of history."

  Jeana stiffened as the exchange between Dan's Wolfhound and the Kurita Clint filled the screen. Autocannon slugs blasted a line of craters into the Wolfhound's chest while a medium laser slashed into the 'Mech's left thigh. The Wolfhound reacted with the impact, then the scene shifted for a pilot's-eye view of Dan's crippling counterattack. "Outraged by the Kurita strike on this innocent village, Captain Daniel Allard fights back, regardless of the weight difference he surrenders to this enemy 'Mech."

  Before the program could move on to Morgan's exchange with the Rifleman—the part Jeana hated most because of Dan's brush with disaster—a gentle knocking at the door saved her. "Yes?"

  Misha killed the holovid as Melissa's chambermaid spoke through the door. "Highness, a Captain John Bailey of the Davion Light Guards has requested a word with you."

  At the mention of Andrew Redburn's unit, Misha's face brightened. Jeana stood up and adjusted the silver belt on her navy blue jumpsuit. Misha smoothed the wrinkles in her long skirt, then both of them glanced at their reflections in the mirror and giggled.

  Jeana moved to the door. "We'll see him in the parlor."

  She waited long enough for her servant to usher the visitor into the parlor room of her suite. Allowing Misha to precede her into the rectangular room, she nodded to dismiss the maid. Extending her hand, Jeana crossed the white carpet to greet her guest. "Captain Bailey, I am glad to meet you."

  The Davion Captain, resplendent in his maroon uniform, clicked together the heels of his cavalry boots and executed a respectful bow. He took her hand and kissed it lightly. "It is the honor of my life to meet you, Highness." Blue eyes flashed up from a handsome face, trying to communicate a message that Jeana could not fathom.

  She withdrew her hand from his warm grasp and turned to introduce Misha. "This is my best friend, Misha Auburn."

  The Captain smiled as he took Misha's hand. "The historian's daughter. The pleasure is all mine."

  Something's not right here. Jeana saw a look of consternation flicker over Misha's face. What is it?

  Misha smiled politely. "You must be newly assigned to the Light Guards, Captain."

  Bailey frowned, his bushy black eyebrows furrowing into a sharp wedge. "I have been with the Guards for three years, Ms. Auburn."

  Misha blinked twice, pointed to the campaign ribbons on his jacket's left breast. "Then why is it you don't wear the blue and green ribbon for the St. Andre strike?"

  That's it! Even as Bailey covered his surprise with a pleasant grin, Jeana swept forward. She smashed her left knee into the soldier's groin, lifting him off the floor. She tangled her fingers in his curly black hair, and as he doubled over, she brought his head down to greet her knee as it rose again.

  "Melissa!" Misha stared at her in horror.

  Jeana ignored the outburst as she stripped the gun from the unconscious warrior. Good. Mauser and Gray M-27 needle pistol. She snapped the breech open and saw a virgin block of ballistic polymer in the chamber. Enough plastic there for a nice long battle.

  Misha grabbed her shoulder. "Melissa, what are you doing? You're scaring me." Jeana looked up, then pointed to the man's boots. "No spurs.

  He's not wearing any spurs ..."

  Misha's mouth hung open. "He's not a MechWarrior from the Federated Suns ... I should have seen that..."

  Jeana nodded curtly. "You did see something. You noticed the campaign ribbons." I should have caught the heel click. We all learned it at Sanglamore because it pleased Duke Lestrade. Jeana tore the soldier's jacket open and pulled up his shirt. She shook her head.

  Wrapped around his waist, the man wore a long, slender strip of green silk. She pointed to it for Misha's benefit. "Sanglamore Sash. The idiot wanted to pass as Davion, but he couldn't be without his sash." Jeana unknotted it and pulled it free. "Help me roll him over, and pull off his boots."

  Misha moved slowly, as if in a trance, as she followed Jeana's orders. "Slangmore ... that means he's from Skye."

  Jeana grimaced as she wrapped the sash around the man's throat, then used it to bind his wrists together. "And that means the other visitors from the Federated Suns are impostors as well, He was probably going to hold Melissa here as a hostage. The Duke must be trying to kill the Archon yet again."

  Misha stood and walked toward the visiphone. "I'll call Simon Johnson."

  "No!"

  Jeana's command stopped Misha dead in her tracks. "Why not? Your mother is meeting with the fake envoy right now. She's in danger."

  Jeana stood, hefting the pistol in her right hand. "If we set off an alarm, they'll kill her for sure. I would guess they're waiting for Johnson to show up so they can kill him, too. If he dies, Lyran security falls apart, making a coup very easy. Lestrade is playing to win this one." She looked up at Misha. "Where are they meeting?"

  Misha shrugged. "Your mother's office, I assume."

  "Dammit, that's no good. One way in, one way out."

  Misha frowned. "What about the passageway behind the bookcase?"

  Jeana's heart leaped to her throat. My briefings mentioned Melissa's knowledge of the secret passages in the palace, but we never had time for her to show me more than a few meters of any of them. Hell, she grew up here—as Misha did—I'd never know them as well as either one of them did. And Melissa said she'd forgotten most of what she knew. "Misha, show me the way."

  Misha grinned. "You know the way. You used to sneak in there all the time and listen to your tutors tell your mother what they thought of you."

  Jeana hesitated, then added more authority to her voice. "Misha, this is no time for games. Show me the way."

  Misha's face darkened. "You're acting strange, Melissa. Maybe all this is a figment of your imagination. I'm going to call Simon .. ."

  Misha's voice faded as Jeana lifted the pistol and clicked the safety off. "You'll do no such thing. The Archon's life is at stake here, Misha, and I will kill you to save her."

  Misha's expression changed from confusion to horror. "Melissa, you need help ..."

  Jeana shook her head. God, she's terrified and I can't get her to help me. I have to tell her. "Listen, Misha, I'm not Melissa. My name is Jeana Clay, and I am Melissa's double. She's off with Hanse Davion."

  Misha stared at her, her brown eyes brimming with tears and utter disbelief. "No, that's impossible. I would have known."

  Jeana stared at Misha intently. "Think, Misha, think. Don't go to pieces on me now. What is the most important factor in Melissa's marriage to Hanse Davion? What do they need to stabilize things?”

  “I don't know."

  "Think, Misha. Think about all the history you've learned from your father. Use your head. What do they need?"

  Misha looked down as concentration drew her brows together. "An heir. A child would unite both nations."

  Jeana smiled. "Dead on. The Archon needed Melissa here to prevent her opposition from saying she'd sold her daughter to Hanse Davion. Melissa needs to be with Hanse so they can conceive a child. I'm here so she can be in two places at one time." She lowered the gun. "Now, take me to the office and pray we're in time."

  Misha crossed to the fireplace in the back corner of the room. Sh
e pushed her fingers into the mouth of an ornamental lion's-head carved from the marble mantelpiece and pressed down. Jeana heard a click, then the fireplace slid away from the wall. Behind it, a narrow opening revealed walls of rough bricks and mortar.

  Misha looked at her. "You'll have to go ahead because there's no place where you can pass me. The corridor goes along the wall for five meters, then we hit a circular stairway that will take us down to the main level where the office is located. At the base of the stairs, keep to the left, take the second right and the first left after that. The bookcase is at the far end of the office, facing the Archon's desk. The catch is above the opening."

  Jeana nodded and entered the dark tunnel. A musty odor hung in the air and small clouds of dust rose with each step. Jeana felt cobwebs brush against her face and hands during the trek. As she walked, she trailed the fingers of her left hand along the wall, letting the cold, rough texture anchor her in reality.

  So many games, so many lies. When this is over, Misha will feel like such a fool for having been deceived by me. She’ll be offended that Melissa wouldn't trust her. Worse yet, she'll have to lie to her father and not reveal any of this to him.

  She came to the spiral stairs and began her slow, careful descent. Fear fluttered through her stomach, but then died quickly. She found herself smiling almost the way she did back when her father was still alive. This is it, isn't it? This is what you felt when you went to defend Katrina Steiner so many years ago on Poulsbo, isn't it, father? This is how it feels to know that what you’re doing is right, no matter what the cost. . .

  Jeana reached out again with her left hand to touch the wall when she stepped off the stairs. Remembering that she had to take the second right turn, she shifted the gun to her left hand. Her heart pounded in her ears as she moved along the pitch-black passage. At the turn, she shifted the gun back to her good hand, charged it, then stopped as she reached the office's secret entrance.

  She hit the catch and stepped through the moment the bookcase slid forward enough for her to squeeze past it. The Archon, a shocked look on her face, rose immediately. "Melissa! What a pleasant surprise." The surprise and anger arcing through her gray eyes demanded an explanation.

  Jeana raised the needle pistol as the Archon's two guests rose from their chairs. "Exitus acta probat, as the Duke was fond of saying. It's over. Bailey spoiled your plans."

  When the two Davion impostors heard her utter Sanglamore's unofficial motto, they reacted. The shorter one moved to Jeana's right, clawing for the gun at his belt, while the taller one moved to the left. Dammit! Split shot. Jeana saw the smaller man flick a glance at the Archon, forcing her decision. You’re it! Dropping into a combat stance, she pulled the trigger twice. The first cloud of needles shredded the uniform over the assassin's heart. The impact half-spun him, making her second shot slam home into his left shoulder. Already dead, he flopped to the floor.

  Jeana pivoted slightly, swinging the gun into line with the other man. He brought his pistol up as she triggered her third shot. She saw it paint his throat and chin with scarlet, then stroked the trigger one more time. Before she could see whether or not that shot had hit, something huge and heavy kicked her in the chest. Stars exploded before her eyes as Jeana flew back and struck her head on the bookshelf.

  A wave of blackness stole her sight, then she found herself slumped on the floor. She saw her gun lying centimeters from her right hand, but her body refused her order to grab it. As if to mock her effort, she rolled onto her back and lost sight of the gun.

  Jeana tried to swallow, but couldn't. Must have been hit. . . hit hard. She felt a trickle of blood pool in the hollow of her throat. Shouldn't there be more pain?

  * * *

  The Archon knelt beside Jeana and made the Sign of the Cross. Reaching out with her right hand, Katrina Steiner closed Jeana's unseeing eyes. The Archon's lower lip trembled as she fought back tears. First your father, and now you. Your family served the Commonwealth more bravely and selflessly than I or it deserves.

  Katrina looked up as Misha stepped through the passageway and uttered a small cry. She knelt at Jeana's head and lifted it into her lap. "Archon, is she ... ?"

  Katrina nodded. She studied Misha's face and the conflicting emotions playing across it. "You know, don't you, that she's not Melissa!"

  Misha stroked Jeana's hair. "I never would have guessed. Telling me was the only way she could get me to tell her how to get through the passageway. She knew you were in danger.. .. She said the impostors were from Skye."

  The Archon's nostrils flared for a moment. "Yes, they reacted when she quoted them something she'd learned at Sanglamore."

  Misha looked up at Katrina. "What are we going to do?"

  The Archon stood slowly. "You and Melissa are to be staying at the Winter Palace for a while, correct?"

  Misha nodded. "A week."

  Katrina thought for a moment, absentmindedly chewing on her left thumbnail. "Your stay there will be extended. Simon Johnson will seal the palace so that no one can see you or Melissa." She smiled wryly. "And then I'll have a special mission for you."

  Misha stroked Jeana's hair. "What do you want me to do?"

  The Archon peered down at her. "I cannot have you here where your father can ferret out what has happened. Not yet, at least. I have to send you away." Katrina nodded resolutely. "Yes, you'll go to the Federated Suns, and you will escort my daughter back home."

  22

  Sian

  Sian Commonality, Capellan Confederation

  25 June 3029

  The bright vermilion and gold bursts of fireworks in the sky and the sound of cheering from the palace courtyard did nothing to lighten Romano Liao's foul mood. The rocket fire burned red highlights into her hair, but as the shadows fell in an explosion's wake, her mood likewise darkened and deepened. Fools, she thought, looking down at the people gathered in the courtyard. You celebrate one minor victory as if we had won the war. Damn me to the Nine Hells, but you act as though McCarron's Armored Cavalry actually saved Sarna from conquest! They didn't. They just destroyed a Davion regiment. What about the other forty still breathing down on us?

  Romano turned abruptly and stalked back in from her balcony. In a pout, she dropped into the chair set before her vanity. Picking up a platinum-handled brush, she idly worked it through her hair, then spun and hurled it against the wall. "You're all idiots! You're celebrating a delay of the inevitable. We must take action to capitalize on the opportunity we now have."

  Romano frowned at her own reflection, then forcibly relaxed her fierce expression before it could set wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. They're celebrating the Interdiction as much as McCarron's destruction of the Fifth Syrtis Fusiliers. You'd celebrate it, too, if Justin Xiang hadn't embraced it as an omen of disaster for House Davion.

  Her green eyes flashed like an angry cat's as she thought about her sister's paramour. You chose incorrectly there, didn't you, Romano ? You thought, with Tsen Shang's war experience on the Marik frontier, that he’d share your hatred of the Free Worlds League. You thought you’d have a powerful ally in a full-blooded Capellan citizen. You thought a man raised in the Federated Suns would be too soft to establish a power base. And you thought wrong. Blood will out!

  Romano let a sly grin tickle the corners of her mouth. What sort of a game is Xiang working? Does he know you sent Ling to kill him? Ling did shoot him, of that I'm certain, but did he tell Justin who gave the order? If so, why has Justin withheld the information from Candace? Is Xiang playing with her the same way Tsen Shang has become my plaything ?

  She closed her eyes and summoned up one of her more disturbing but favorite fantasies. Justin Xiang came to her, his rage and contempt at her attempt to kill his father changed now into passion. They made frenzied love and she thrilled to the cold caress of his steel hand ...

  The staccato string of explosions that mark the end of the fireworks display snapped her out of the phantom encounter with her sister's lover. With him
as my right hand, no one could stand before me. With him to oppose me and back my sister, I will never gain the throne I so rightly deserve. Can I co-opt him, or will I have to eliminate him as I have eliminated other threats to the Capellan state?

  The image of her dead step-mother lying half-decomposed in the morgue came to her, then was overlaid by another image. It was her step-mother and Colonel Pavel Ridzik rutting together like animals in a bungalow on Terra. She'd not seen it, but she'd heard about it from Tsen Shang. Alexi Malenkov reported it to Justin and Tsen while we were all at the wedding of Hanse and Melissa. Ridzik and Elizabeth weren't even cautious enough to make sure someone did not follow them to their tryst.

  A sneer contorted Romano's beautiful features as she thought of Ridzik. You are a contemptible bastard, Ridzik. How could I ever have considered you as a consort to solidify my power base? You toady up to Hanse Davion so he doesn't snap up your precious Tikonov, then you decide to go off on a little crusade of your own. You strike out at the Free Worlds League instead of helping your master subjugate your old homeland. Are we so meager a threat as far as you are concerned?

  Romano licked her lips. Yes, it's time to clean up some loose ends before I make my next move. You, Pavel Ridzik, have arrogantly dismissed the Capellan Confederation. My father tried to have you killed before, but he failed. I'll not have the sins of my father visited upon me. It is time for you die. Romano laughed softly as she wove together the final threads in a plot he could never escape.

  BOOK III

  DUTY

  Never mind your happiness; do your duty.

  —Will Durant

  23

  New Avalon

  Cruris March, Federated Suns