Star lord

by Donald G. Phillips

  As the rest of the Trinary passed, Dawn made a half circle to face the Shadow Hawk that had fired on her. "Make for the DropShips," she commanded. "I will cover your withdrawal." One warrior, Handly, swung his Battle Cobra next to her. Without a word, he opened up on the Vulcan that had turned to pursue, his six pulse lasers hitting the red and silver 'Mech almost everywhere, leaving armor plating and severed myomer strands flailing about. Dawn was about to order Handly to retreat when a pair of brilliant blue flashes engulfed his 'Mech. PPC fire, probably from a nearby enemy Marauder, had slammed into it. Handly's OmniMech toppled in front of her, rolling slightly as it dropped. It had been gutted, eaten alive by the charged particle beam. Handly never stood a chance.

  Dawn fired her last salvo of missiles at the Shadow Hawk as it moved to engage her. She knew the Marauder was nearby and probably locking onto her. But until it actually fired, the Clan code of honor would not allow her to target it—even if that initial attack killed her. Some other Clans no longer held stringently to the code, but the Steel Vipers did. They remained true. It was the hallmark of her Clan and a bond Dawn would never betray, no matter what the risk.

  Dawn's missiles met their mark. The Shadow Hawk's lethal right arm was left mangled and smoking from her fire, but it fired back at her with its shoulder-mounted autocannon. Most of the shells missed by mere meters, but some hit her left foot, frying the ankle actuator. Dawn held her ground. The survivors have to get away. Again she experienced a surge of fury. This is the ground where I will die. Though the raid had failed, she might still win honor by giving her own life. Perhaps even enough to merit having her ashes mixed with the nutrient solution that would help nourish a new generation of warriors in the Clan genetics labs.

  But that was not to be her fate, for the attackers inexplicably turned away from the retreating Steel Vipers and left the field, heading along the far flank of the approaching Lyran Guards. Seeing them go, Dawn's anger died suddenly, replaced by an almost unbearable dread. She had failed in her mission. More than half her Trinary was dead, perhaps even more. It was as if the ghost of Tukayyid had risen from its grave to wrap its cold arms around her in the stifling cockpit of the Crossbow.

  When they returned to Jabuka, Star Colonel Brett Andrews would neither ask for nor accept any explanations. An explanation was just words. No words could raise the warriors that had fallen under her command. No words could wipe away this stain.

  Dawn had been given her orders and she had failed. Now all that was left was to return to face her commander and her comrades and this new shame.

  4

  Cavern of the Skull

  New St Andrews, The Periphery

  Rimward of the Circinus Federation

  13 April 3057

  As Captain Kemper Varas entered the small alcove, the balding man looked up quickly from the desk where he was working. Varas eyed him carefully. He knew the man was prone to fits of rage when provoked—and even sometimes when not. Seeing him sitting here in this old Star League base hidden centuries ago was an irony not lost on him.

  "Greetings, lord," Varas said, bowing slightly. The man nodded and motioned to the chair facing him. Varas sat down, still watching carefully. The man he'd come to see was dressed, as always, in a suit of body armor. Varas waited for him to speak, more out of cunning than caution. He knew that one day all this would be his if he was patient and could bide his time.

  "What is the status of our units?" the man asked, sitting back in his chair and steepling his fingers.

  "The force that struck Shiro III has signaled arrival at the pre-arranged coordinates, and reports being in good condition with minimal losses. Repairs estimated at one week. Our raid on Valexa also caught the Sixth Crucis Lancers totally unaware and unprepared. The Lancers have been bloodied, and word is beginning to leak that the Knights of the Inner Sphere were involved. We lost three 'Mechs and MechWarriors, but none were recovered or captured alive."

  The round-face man barely reacted to the news of these deaths. If anything, he looked satisfied. "They died for a cause," he said. "One of such grand scale that their deaths will immortalize them in the new empire we shall forge. But what of Cumbres, Captain? Did the Twenty-fourth Lyran Guards feel my wrath?" His voice seemed to tingle with excitement, as though this was some game and not a question of life and death.

  Varas lowered his eyes, pausing deliberately to emphasize his next words. "The Cumbres operation went off with losses equal to one full lance and damage to both other lances. Apparently, just as our people were about to spring the ambush, a company of Steel Vipers turned up with the same idea of raiding the Twenty-fourth Lyran Guards. Our troops held back, not attacking until the other two sides were already engaged."

  "We have struck at the Clans then?"

  "Yes, my lord."

  "Sooner than I had planned, but so much the better. And were we successful?"

  "Indeed we were." Varas knew that success was hard to define in such an operation. These were not like the missions he'd planned and executed so many times before, but rather were aimed at provoking a political action rather than military conquest.

  "Excellent," the man said, smiling to himself. "And now the Steel Vipers have also felt my sting." He gave a short laugh at his own little joke. "And the 'Mech pilots downed during the operation?"

  Captain Kemper Varas drew his breath. "Per your orders, sire, all were destroyed. All the 'Mechs were equipped with the hidden explosives our DropShip commanders detonate when the machines become disabled. None fell into the hands of the Guard troops."

  "Excellent." The man rose from his chair and began to pace back and forth, hands clasped behind his back. "Fortunately, we have replacements for those that were lost."

  Kemper Varas nodded. "Some, my lord. Our raids on those Capellan shipments have helped us refit many of the 'Mechs brought in by our new recruits. In all honesty, sire, the 'Mechs are no match for the best Inner Sphere or Clan models, but our unique variants may provide some rude surprises. Still, in a straight battle, 'Mech against 'Mech, we would be hard pressed to win."

  "How can you say that, Captain Varas? We have won three victories—four, if you count the Steel Vipers. And the rest of the Inner Sphere will blame Thomas Marik and his Knights for my deeds."

  Varas felt bound to speak the truth. "We have not won based on skill or technology, but because the raids were carefully planned ambushes, sire."

  The man shook his head and waved his hand in the air as if to brush away the Captain's words. "Regardless, they are victories. It has begun."

  "It will not be long before people realize it was not the Knights of the Inner Sphere carrying out these raids. And then the leaders of the Inner Sphere will set their dogs to tracking us down." Varas knew they might all die when that day came, but the other man's name would make him the prime target. And that would give Varas the time he would need.

  "A wasted effort. Our operatives will plant counterintelligence pointing the finger at each one of the House Lords. Have not our teams on New Avalon, Luthien, Atreus, and Sian already signaled that they are ready to strike? They only await the word."

  Varas knew the plan all too well, having been one of its chief architects. When he had first been recruited by the balding man who now stood before him as lord, he'd never dreamed how far the scheming would go. Now he did. First, it had brought them here to New St. Andrews, this forgotten Periphery world on the far side of the Free Worlds League. The next stage would take them to the capitals of the Great Houses of the Inner Sphere, into the palaces of those who ruled the star empires that had once formed the grand alliance known as the Star League. And their teams of assassins were poised and ready to go off like carefully planted explosives. In the chaos following the collapse of leadership in the Inner Sphere, his lord planned to step in and take over.

  This man was cunning, Varas knew. One of the first things he did for every unit they brought here was to memorize the profiles of both unit and commander. Varas served him now, bec
ause it suited his plan. One day, that would no longer be true. Plans had been made to ensure that one day, sometime in the future, he would take care of the man who lorded over him. One day, Varas himself would rule where a madman now claimed succession.

  Yet Varas was not immune to the force of the man's personality. His voice was compelling, and he spoke with a fierce conviction that at times fired the Captain to his very soul. It was the same charisma that had drawn others to their cause. "The House Lords are as suspicious and fearful of one another as they were three hundred years ago when their infighting destroyed the Star League," the man said. "But this time we will use those suspicions and fears to play them off against one another. While they plot and plan each other's demise, we will prepare here, in the Periphery. It was here that it all began so long ago, and it is here that the climax will unfold. Remember, Varas, history repeats itself." The man moved past his Captain and toward the door. "Come now, let us go meet our newest followers."

  * * *

  The Cavern of the Skull was not a natural cave, but one that had been carved out by the engineers of the Star League Defense Force as a base from which 'Mechs could operate. During the two decades of the Reunification Wars, the cavern had housed nearly a regiment of 'Mechs and support personnel. The walls had also been dug out to create various rooms and quarters. But more than three centuries had taken their toll. The meeting would be held in the massive open area in the center of the cavern.

  Unmatched chairs had been set up throughout the area, with two placed on the dais for Varas and his lord. Milling about were dozens of MechWarriors, infantrymen, tankers, and technicians. Standing guard at the entrance and along the walls of the vast cavern were uniformed men wearing red berets and sashes across their chests. Each one was armed with a rifle.

  The man entered the room and passed regally through the crowd to reach the podium. His appearance had created a buzz of interest that now gradually became an expectant hush as all those gathered turned their gaze upon him. The man held the podium with both hands and stood surveying the assembly. At the back stood the Clave Lords, leaders of the highlanders who eked out their existence among the lonely mountains of St. Andrews. Varas had defeated them in combat when he and his lord had first arrived, and then the man had won them over by offering protection as well as desperately needed food and supplies. Now, many of the Claves had come over to him, were under his dominion. Finally, the man smiled, if only for a moment. It was a cruel smile, one that Varas had seen before and dreaded.

  "I welcome you to your new home," he said, spreading his hands wide as though to embrace the assembly. "It is temporary, I assure you, but your 'Mechs and equipment are safe here. Uniforms will be issued to you all in the coming weeks."

  "My men don't want to wear uniforms," a voice called out belligerently from the crowd. Varas recognized the man immediately as Captain Parker Don Hua. He and his unit, the Red Hell, were some of the worst of the new recruits. The Mercenary Review Board had banned them from employment by any House in their Inner Sphere for acts of savagery during a raid on a Word of Blake compound—their choice of target only adding it to the list of problems. They'd turned to the Periphery for employment, but had torn up one too many towns to win many contracts or a decent pay rate. Varas and his lord were the last hope for Hua, as they were for most of the mercenaries in the room.

  "You are Captain Hua, are you not?" the lord asked coolly.

  "Damn right!"

  "Well, my dear Captain, I regret to tell you that I do not intend to fail in the great work for which I have brought you here. You will abide by the stipulation of the contract All the stipulations. None are insignificant. I do not offer you the luxury of choosing which parts to honor and which to ignore. No stipulation is unimportant, because this contract is the first step in binding and uniting us in our will to succeed. I will not compromise on this issue, Captain." The man's voice was deep, made even more commanding by its echo off the walls of the enormous cave.

  "Contract or not, we don't wear uniforms. You got a problem with that, you take it up with the Merc Board," Hua retorted, drawing a laugh from several of his comrades. They knew that this contract was not binding, that they were beyond the law as far as the Mercenary Bonding and Review Board was concerned.

  The man at the podium shrugged. "Very well. You have traveled far to sow the seeds of dissent among my loyal men. Of all things I do not tolerate, insubordination is the first." He pulled a small laser pistol from a fold in his body armor and fired it at Hua, the laser bolt striking the mercenary squarely between the eyes. Hua's body collapsed like a bag of wet meal, people around him jumping back as it fell heavily in their midst.

  Several Red Hellions pulled their weapons, but the red-sashed guards around the room already had theirs leveled, ready to mow down the dissenters if so ordered by their lord. One by one, the mercenaries holstered their pistols. Other Red Hell members bent over the body of their fallen commander, not certain what to do next.

  "He was weak, and you will find that the weak are dispensable. All of you are fine warriors, but for one reason or another, the leaders of the Inner Sphere have turned their backs on you. Most of you, like the Black Warriors there"—he pointed to a small band in the corner of the room—"have been wrongly accused of crimes. Others, perhaps the Red Hell among them, have simply lacked true leaders, leaders with a vision.

  "I am a man with such a vision. A vision of the future."

  As his lord paused to let the words sink in, Varas saw that the audience seemed mesmerized. He tells them what they want to hear and they swallow it like starving men.

  "How many of you are tired of being cannon fodder for the House Lords? How many of you grow weary of fighting battles in senseless wars for petty politics? Are you saddened by the loss of your comrades who have been sent to their deaths by little lords sitting in their ivory castles?"

  A chorus of affirmation swelled from the floor of the Cavern of the Skull, the sound reverberating off the ancient stone walls.

  "You need a leader who promises you not only a paycheck, but a future. I am that man." He took a staff from behind the podium and held it high so all might see. Then, as if to strike a blow through the winds of time he slammed the staff down hard on its heel. The cavern had gone totally silent, and the staff hit with a sharp, resounding crack!

  "I am Stefan Amaris the Seventh, Star Lord of the Amaris Republic, ruler of the Rim Worlds Republic and rightful heir to the throne of the First Lord of the Star League!" Again he pounded the heel of the mighty staff against the cold stone floor.

  There was a brief silence as the assembled men and women absorbed this astounding statement. Where they had been nearly mesmerized moments before, their faces now showed only shock and dismay. Amaris, a cursed name. The name of the Usurper, the Pillager, the destroyer of the Star League. If not for Stefan Amaris the golden age of mankind might still be unfolding. No Clans, no centuries of Succession Wars. The name Amaris was the embodiment of evil, even after all these centuries.

  Varas remembered his initial reaction of disgust when the man had first showed him the irrefutable genetic proof. It had been pure chance that the document had fallen into the man's hands during the split in ComStar that created the rebellious Word of Blake. The man had been a ComStar adept back then, taking advantage of the organization's extensive archives to discover why his family could identify no ancestor beyond the start of the fall of the Star League.

  Amaris again held up both hands, stilling any objection before it could be voiced. He'd expected their reaction. "Yes, I know what you must be thinking. I know that every history book teaches that Stefan Amaris was evil, power-hungry—a kind of devil. But, I ask you this, who wrote those histories? Lackeys of the same House Lords whose bickering and power struggles led to the collapse of the Star League, the worst disaster in the memory of mankind. And I have brought you here today to tell you those histories are false! When the great General Kerensky captured my grand-sire, the true First
Lord, and then killed him and every member of his line, this so-called great general covered up his crime by making the Amaris name cursed throughout the Inner Sphere.

  "Heed my words. I am a direct descendant of the Amaris line and my genetic heritage has been confirmed. But even I did not know of it until recently. Like you I had been taught the stories, the lies. If not for my studies of history, I would have had no clue to my true lineage." He held up a parchment for all to see. Varas knew what it was—the Amaris seal.

  "In searching through the history of my own ancestors, I discovered poof of my great inheritance. If Stefan Amaris the First committed an error, it was in failing to grasp the depth of the treachery of the House Lords. His dream was to hold the glory of the Star League together. That was the motive behind all his deeds. There was nothing—nothing!—he would not do to achieve his ends. He saw the petty greed and weakness of the Council Lords. He saw General Kerensky betray his trust. Had the General joined with Stefan Amaris instead of opposing him, the Amaris Empire would have been the crown jewel of the history of mankind. Instead Kerensky and the petty lords crushed the best and only hope for the future of mankind.

  "Until now." Again the man paused, which had an electrifying effect on his listeners. A shout went up from them.

  "I have re-formed the Republican Guards, and they have already struck at several Inner Sphere worlds, damaging some of the best House units in existence. What's more, we have the parts and supplies here to refit your BattleMechs to peak condition. You and your kin will enjoy all that has been denied you by the House Lords who turned their backs on you and your comrades."

  One of the men called out from the floor. "What will we have to do?"

  Amaris held up his hands as though to still a babble that did not exist. "My vision is one of grand scale. We will strike again soon, hitting the Periphery and turning its people against our foes in the Inner Sphere. The various House governments all suspect each other of conducting these raids, and that suits my purposes splendidly. Meanwhile, rest assured that I have a plan, I have the resources, and I have the will to take my fight to your enemies. One day, we will laugh in their faces as we take their power for ourselves.