Apparent Catastrophe

by Michael Stackpole

  Abigail slipped her arm around her sister’s shoulders. “A while back—nearly a year—Richard approached me to intercede with Mother on his behalf to make him Ivan’s Companion for the Vetting. Our discussion became heated because I wanted the honor of being Ivan’s Companion. I knew Ivan would never choose me because he would defer to Mother. Richard argued that he was the only logical and suitable choice. That made me quite angry, and I was in the middle of accusing him of being the most arrogant beast on Maldives, when he said ‘The only better candidate would be you, yourself.’”

  Richard nodded.

  “I realized that not only was he a genius, but contrary to my previous opinion of him, he actually wanted the best for Ivan. I agreed with his plan, and went to work to get him selected. Ivan made the choice, and then Mother preempted it.”

  The leader of the Rangers clasped his hands at the small of his back. “Our planning had to be conducted in secret, and as we agreed on what had to be done, we grew closer. Yet, to prevent anyone from discovering what we planned, we pretended to be growing further apart.”

  Sophia glanced down at her sister’s hand and the simple gold band circling her ring finger. “You’re married?”

  Abby smiled. “We slipped off with Richard’s Rangers for a secret ceremony while everyone was distracted with the Vetting. We love each other, yes, but we had practical considerations, too. If Ivan failed, then you and I would be married off to First Family scions who wanted us for our Litzau Enterprises proxies. Because the families that have the most money seldom have the wit to be able to administer the planetary government, and because the Oglethorpes have a suitable pedigree, I would give my husband my proxies and control would remain within the Litzau family.”

  Sophia rubbed her fingertips against her temples. “I don’t . . . I can’t believe . . . Ivan won’t believe it, either.”

  Richard started. “Ivan’s alive? The Chairman Presumptive is still alive? When? Where? How do you know?”

  “He was at August House. He rescued me.”

  “Ivan?”

  “Walter did the heavy lifting, but Ivan was controlling everything on the property and enabled us to get away.” Sophia shook her head to clear her shock. “We were getting away until your people stopped us.”

  “Where is Ivan now?”

  “He and Walter were put on trucks. I’ve not seen them since. Are they here? Spurling and Wilson, those were the names they were under.”

  Richard pointed at his subordinate. “Lieutenant, find them, now. Do not reveal their identities, and tell no one that Sophia is alive either. But get them here on the double.”

  “Sir, yes, sir.” The lieutenant sprinted from the room.

  For a heartbeat Sophia’s stomach roiled. What if Abby and Richard are with the Collective? She made a fist and smacked it against her left thigh. No, that cannot be.

  She glanced up at Abby and her husband. “Holovid showed the Rangers supporting the Collective. What happened?”

  Richard sighed. “The Collective struck at the Litzau Lancers, and had repainted ’Mechs in the Rangers’ black and silver. What they missed is that I’d added a golden ring around the left ankle of the raven in our crest to signify the marriage. We produced the decals in secret at the reception up at our training base.”

  Abby nudged Sophia. “He’s not much of a romantic.”

  “. . . You can easily see the difference in the holovids, and on the ’Mechs we used in the attack at August House.”

  “Why did you choose to attack at August House?”

  The colonel frowned. “It was supposed to be a recon-in-force, just to see what the Collective has been doing. Our scouts saw what must have been the rescue attempt and called in the rest of the forces. Initial reports say there wasn’t much resistance. One ’Mech, some small-arms fire.”

  “That’s what I saw.” Sophia couldn’t suppress a shiver. “Then your man executed captives from the Collective.”

  The room fell silent save for the sound of water droplets. Abby had stiffened. The blood had drained from Richard’s face. The two of them exchanged glances. Richard’s shoulders slumped a bit. “Lieutenant Galarza?”

  “That was his name.”

  Richard slowly exhaled. “When the Collective realized that their strikes at our garrison had not been successful, they started hunting for our people. Galarza’s wife had left him a month ago, took their three children, all under twelve. The Collective got to them before we could and executed them. All of them.”

  A wave of weariness washed over Sophia. “You’re saying he has issues.”

  “They don’t excuse his action. He will be dealt with.” Richard rubbed a hand over his forehead. “The Collective hit Rivergaard hard, and struck at the leaders of as many of the First Families as they could. Many died with your mother. But the Collective’s efforts weren’t entirely successful, so they wounded a lot of Families, but they didn’t kill them. As a result, there are multiple families, each with their home guard or corporate security forces, carving out their own little fiefdoms. The Collective is willing to make deals with some in order to buy time to deal with others. Some of the smaller families have even allied with the Collective to attack rivals, though that sort of situation is highly fluid. In general, all that is happening is that ’Mechs are being ground down slowly. We don’t have the spare parts nor the facilities to keep ’Mechs wholly operational.”

  Until Richard’s explanation slowly smothered it, Sophia hadn’t realized hope had been what had kept her going. “You must have a plan. There must be a way to . . . to . . .”

  “To save Maldives?” Richard shrugged. “That is my dream and my duty. I just pray we find the plan soon enough, else there’s no way to undo the damage which has been done.”

  Chapter Four

  Processing Center, Prism Energy Solutions

  Maldives

  16 November 3000

  Walter reluctantly trailed in Ivan’s wake. He would have preferred to head somewhere else, preferably with the Chairman Presumptive at his side, but the squad of Rangers accompanying Lieutenant Doukas seemed disinclined to let him wander off. On the good side of things, they had restrained Galarza. Once inside the facility, two of them dragged the incapacitated man off somewhere.

  Another good thing: they didn’t take the needle pistol from me. Walter doubted that was an oversight. One of the soldiers always had a gun trained on his spine. Making anything even approximating a sudden move would have been a career-ender.

  Doukas clearly had a particular goal in mind, but a runner intercepted them and they shifted course. Up two flights of stairs and to the right, they entered a large conference room. Static holograms showing large mining ’Mechs and cartloads of ore matched the “Prism Energy Solutions” title painted on the far wall. If not for the light coat of dust on the mahogany briefing table, Walter could have imagined himself in the heart of a busy corporate headquarters pretty much anywhere in the Inner Sphere.

  Ivan broke from behind Doukas and ran toward the head of the table. He hugged his sister Abigail tightly, and Sophia joined the scrum. Walter heard no coherent conversation, but laughter, gasped sobs and gentle tones told him all he needed to know. That Abigail appeared far warmer to her siblings than she ever had before surprised him, but he easily imagined some sort of a logical explanation for that.

  Richard Oglethorpe squeezed past the knot of Litzau scions and approached Walter. The Dhivi officer looked Walter up and down, then offered his hand. “Given what has transpired, I am glad you usurped my place as Companion.”

  Walter shook his hand, despite reading the true message in Richard’s words. He didn’t say I was a better Companion, or even a better choice as Companion, just that he was glad he’d not been through what we had. “The experience has been eye-opening, Colonel. The Chairman Presumptive has done well in his
Vetting.”

  “An unexpected ordeal, to be certain.”

  Richard looked to continue speaking, but Walter stopped him. “Please, I have to ask, what happened to the Angels? Do any of them still live?”

  The Dhivi’s expression darkened. “There were fragmentary reports. Some of them were in the employ of the Collective, it would appear. Some died in the garrison. Your leader is buried at Litzau headquarters, with everyone else. The Vulture’s Egg buttoned up fast and burned for orbit, but has not yet started for the jump point—what is delaying them, I have no idea. They have refused to return and give us supplies or lend their firepower to our efforts.”

  Walter nodded. “The Rangers on holovid, those were just ’Mechs repainted to add confusion to the situation?”

  “Very astute observation, Lieutenant de Mesnil. How did you . . . ?”

  “I might have studied your table of organization and equipment in my spare time. The holovid showed more light ’Mechs than you were reported to possess. If you’re not in the trade, a ’Mech is a ’Mech is a ’Mech.”

  “Well done.” Richard jerked his head toward Ivan. “And well done keeping Ivan alive. Maldives and the Litzau family thanks you for your service. I regret that current circumstances put us in a situation where we will be unable to honor the Angels’ contract . . .”

  “Right now I want to find out if any of my people are still alive.” Walter nodded toward Lieutenant Doukas. “If you’ll lend me some commo gear, I can call up to the Egg and see if any of the other Angels have reported in.”

  “I’m afraid that is utterly out of the question.” Richard turned toward his subordinate. “Lieutenant, please conduct our guest to his quarters, then come back so we can begin our next phase of planning.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Whoa, wait a minute.” Walter held up both his hands. “I’m going nowhere. If you’re planning a campaign to free this world from the Collective, you’re going to need my help.”

  Colonel Oglethorpe’s eyes sharpened. “You presume greatly, mercenary. I am grateful to you for all you have done, but your Angels were part of the force that struck down our government. Regardless of what you may have done to help the Chairman Presumptive, even you would see that we can’t trust you.”

  “If I was working for the Collective, he’d already be in custody.”

  “Unless your masters decided that you should use him as bait to trap us.”

  Ivan turned away from his sisters. “Richard, Walter has done no such thing.”

  The Dhivi soldier raised an eyebrow. “How do you know? Have you two been together constantly? Was there no time when he could have contacted Collective agents and have gotten orders concerning you? He is, after all, for sale.”

  Ivan’s eyes widened. “Richard!”

  Walter balled his fists. “No, Ivan, this is our little fight, Richard and me. He was never going to trust me, and he’ll take any little reason at all to condemn me. Well, let me tell you . . .”

  “Walter, stop!” Ivan came forward, separating the two of them. “And you, Richard, stop.”

  “With all due respect, Chairman Presumptive, you barely know this man, and you no longer command the resources necessary to pay him.”

  Ivan sighed. “Richard, I understand your concern is for the people of Maldives and for my family—our family, now. But I am the Chairman Presumptive. You are doing this for me. If you distrust Walter, you also distrust my judgment. The fact is that I trust Walter. I trust him with my life. I trusted him to rescue Sophia from the Collective—a job he did all alone against two dozen armed agents. I have worked with him and I have no secrets from him. You may not want him present during any strategy sessions, but I require his presence. Let that be an end to this nonsense.”

  Richard stared curiously at Ivan, but then bowed his head. “As you wish, Chairman Presumptive.”

  It was all Walter could do to refrain from sticking his tongue out at Richard and leaping into a victory dance.

  Ivan turned quickly and stabbed a finger against Walter’s chest. “I trust you, Walter, and value your counsel; but you have to know that Richard’s right about communicating with your DropShip. You don’t know if your captain or crew can be trusted, and they don’t know if they can trust you, either. And just communicating with them could let the Collective triangulate on our position.”

  A flush rose to Walter’s cheeks. “You’re right. My concern for my people can’t outweigh operational security. But if there is any news.”

  Ivan nodded. “Of course. Now, Richard, where are we?”

  Oglethorpe brought them up to speed on the general situation, including the fact that opposition to the Collective had fragmented. “We had thought about promoting Abigail’s presence with us as a reason for others to join us, but the Collective has claimed to have uncovered tons of files from Litzau archives that allege all sorts of crimes. Forgeries all, it seems clear, but couple that with Abigail being female, and others are wary of Litzau leadership claims.”

  Walter frowned. “You’re not thinking of promoting the Chairman Presumptive’s return, are you?”

  Richard opened his hands. “It would give us more legitimacy.”

  “And it would paint a huge target on you and him.” Walter shook his head. “I think that is a very dangerous strategy.”

  “Immaterial, at the moment.” Abigail used a small remote control to project a holographic map of Maldives. Round towers in different colors represented estimated power rankings for factions. Yellow-green towers—the color of ’Mech coolant—dominated Rivergaard, leading Walter to conclude they represented the Collective. Black with silver edges was the Rangers faction. The Rangers looked to be 60 percent less powerful than the Collective, and yet twice what any other faction commanded. Many of the other factions had spread out from Rivergaard, however, dominating their own little fiefdoms.

  “As nearly as we can tell, the Collective’s ’Mechs are lighter and don’t pack as much firepower, on average, as others. However,”—Abigail hit a button and two of the Collective towers began to glow at their bases—“the Collective controls warehousing and repair facilities here and here. They are able to maintain their forces better than we can. Even if we could have salvaged the Collective ’Mech at August House, the pieces wouldn’t have helped us much.”

  Walter ran a hand over his jaw. “Munitions?”

  Several other towers began to glow, within other factions, including some far from Rivergaard. “The Estelle family here has a store of missiles, both short- and long-range. They’re protecting it with light ’Mechs running long on energy weapons. Their previous chairman obtained the missiles for fear of his corporate security teams running out of them. The next chairman shifted over to light shows, and has be sitting on the stockpile waiting to sell them at a profit.”

  Richard nodded. “Our force is roughly 70 percent more powerful than the Estelle force, but they have prepared positions and the terrain works against us.”

  “Got it.” Taking the missiles would have been a foolish endeavor. Conventional wisdom dictated that troops attacking a defensive position should be 300 percent more powerful than the defenders, and that percentage only rose when factoring in prepared defenses and hostile terrain. Hake would have dismissed that operation as being a widow-maker, and I would have told him he was an optimist.

  Ivan pointed toward Rivergaard. “While Walter and I were in the field, we were able to get a limited amount of propaganda from the Collective—broadcast holovid. But there was some disruption. Is that your operation?”

  Abigail played with the remote and a grid of small cubes rose from the tabletop. Most of the cubes had been shaded emerald green, but a fair number were red or yellow. Those tended to be clustered near some of the smaller fiefdoms. “We have not targeted the towers because we were hoping to use them to broadcast
our own messages or to scramble Collective messages when we decided to move on an area. The outlying towers that aren’t working we assume were local attacks to stop propaganda from flooding First Family holdings. The downed towers in Rivergaard, we think, are local resistance.”

  Sophia laid a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “That’s the impression I got from things said in the reeducation camp. If they caught counterrevolutionaries, they tended to execute the ringleaders and toss their families in with the rest of us to be reeducated.”

  Walter looked at her. “They didn’t spot you as Sophia when they captured you?”

  “I woke up in the camp, my eye swollen shut. If what I saw later was any indication, they weren’t very well organized as far as camp administration was concerned. I don’t think they expected resistance, and their people didn’t appear to have the skills to process captives, nor access to government databases to do any identity verification. If you were unlucky enough to be immediately recognized, or were captured from a home or in uniform, you got sent to a high-security prison. Once you were interrogated, you got shot or sent for reeducation.”

  Ivan turned toward Walter. “You can’t image Sophia is with the Collective.”

  “I’ve got a pretty good imagination, but, nope, can’t imagine that. But having the data points is good.” He closed his eyes for a moment. The revolution had taken place barely a week and a half previously and already the Collective was releasing or executing people they’d interrogated. That wasn’t nearly enough time for their interrogators to have done a thorough job, regardless of whatever methodology they employed. Intel had to be gathered and verified, then the interrogation subject had to be questioned again. Wringing one dry would take weeks, if not months.

  “What are you thinking, Walter?”

  “What I’m thinking, Spurs, is that the name ‘Collective’ is probably a lot more descriptive of how this plot got hatched than it is of the administration it put into place.” Walter ran a hand over his forehead. “This has probably been in the works since your father died. Maybe even longer, but questions about your suitability to lead certainly sped things up. I suspect, Colonel, plotters made inquiries of you, or overtures to you, which you either didn’t recognize or dismissed out of hand. The fact that you were even considered for the post of Companion might have been enough to kill any effort to enlist you.”