Star lord

by Donald G. Phillips

  * * *

  Hermann Bovos had just come up the street toward Lulu's, but almost forgot the reason he happened to be on this street at all when he ran straight into a brawl unlike any he had ever seen. He stopped to watch. The woman was obviously outnumbered, yet so far she was more than holding her own. Two of the men were downed already, one with a kick to the groin that would probably end his blood line forever and the other stabbed with a knife intended for use against her. Bovos didn't know how this fight had begun, but seeing more men begin to encircle her, he knew it was only a matter of time before she was overwhelmed.

  As other attackers moved into position around her, a chain whizzed through the air, just missing her head by centimeters. Eight against one certainly wasn't a fair fight, especially when the one was a woman. But judging from the way she fought, this was no ordinary female. Definitely a Mech-Warrior.

  Bovos threw himself into the melee, his target one of the men just rearing his club back to strike the woman from behind. Bovos jerked the arm backward, throwing the man off balance and sending him sprawling. Now the one with the chain was swinging the thing at Bovos instead of the woman. It struck him across the legs, knocking him to the ground. But Bovos was fast enough to grab the chain even as it was swinging away. He ripped it out of his attacker's hands.

  The woman had by now seized a club from one of the others and was slamming it into the back of the neck of the man attacking Bovos. The blow snapped the club as well as the man's neck, and his body fell like a sack over Bovos's legs. Everything was happening too fast for thought, but he couldn't help being amazed that she was fighting to kill. Another one of the men was swinging a chain now, this time grazing the woman in the head and ripping her ear.

  "Hang on!" Bovos shouted, throwing a punch at the man closest to him.

  "Neg!" the woman hissed. "This is my fight. They belong to me!"

  Duncan was on his way up the same street to Lulu's when he too came upon the street brawl. "What's going on?" he asked a Galaport local shouldering his way closer.

  "The Cavaliers got them a real Clan warrior," the man said."

  Duncan spotted Hermann Bovos in the middle of the fight and his heart raced. Blast it! I need him!

  Almost without thinking, Duncan also began pushing through the crowd to where Bovos was grappling on the ground with a wiry, bearded man. A woman, the side of her face and neck slick with blood, was locked on the ground with another man. Glancing around, Duncan noticed a man holding his groin, apparently doubled over in pain. But when the same man suddenly straightened up, he was holding a laser pistol. It was leveled directly at the woman, who now had her hands wrapped around the throat of the man she was wrestling. With a flying leap, Duncan knocked the man with the gun backward, slapping at his hands even as the weapon fired.

  The shot seemed to shake the air and stun both the crowd and the combatants. Everything stopped suddenly as if time had frozen. The man Duncan had tackled dropped to the ground, apparently unconscious. The woman stood up, her eyes flicking from Bovos to Duncan. She looked exhausted and was already showing bruises where she'd been punched, hit, or kicked.

  "The fight ..." she began, her voice wavering, "... was mine." She took a step toward Bovos, then looked over at Duncan again.

  Then she collapsed onto the wet, cold sidewalk. Blood was everywhere. Those who weren't dead moaned in pain.

  Duncan had no idea how this woman had gotten herself into such a brawl, but she could obviously take care of herself. Bending down to see what he could do for her, he couldn't help thinking that maybe he'd just found the final member of Kalma's Company.

  If so, he promised himself, he'd better be damn careful never to get on the wrong side of her.

  16

  Galaport

  Galatea

  Skye March, Federated Commonwealth

  16 May 3057

  "Duncan, I think she's waking up," Bovos said, seeing her eyes flutter. Duncan quickly stood and walked over to the bed. After another few minutes the woman's eyes opened. She stared curiously up at the two men hovering over her. "Where am I?"

  "We brought you to our hotel," Duncan said, but her look was one of utter bafflement. "Don't you remember? We got into that fight you had with the Cavaliers who ganged up on you."

  She started to sit up, then quickly fell back against the pillow as a look of pain flashed over her face.

  "You've been out since last night. One of Carmody's Cavaliers plastered you with the butt of his pistol. But we had a doctor in and he said there's no concussion. You'll be all right."

  "Who are you?" she asked, almost angrily. "Duncan, Duncan Kalma. And this is Hermann Bovos."

  "But why did you interfere? I do not know either of you."

  "Well, let's just say it looked like you needed some help."

  "Help?" She blinked, tried to sit up again. "But it was my fight, quiaff?"

  "It sure was," Duncan said. Her speech was strange, almost like listening to someone born centuries ago. "People in the crowd were shouting something about you being a Clanner. Is it true?"

  She looked him in the eyes. "Yes," she said finally. "I was a Clan warrior, a Steel Viper."

  "You say 'was'... ?"

  "I am now dezgra—disgraced, cast out."

  "So you came here ... to Galatea."

  "Being a warrior is all I know. I met a man who offered me a place in his stable."

  "You're talking about Edel Mordoc, right?" They'd done some checking on her, which hadn't been hard at all. A blond, blue-eyed Clan warrior competing in the Games of Galatea definitely stood out from the crowd.

  "Mordoc, yes, an odd little man. So ugly he could make an onion cry. I won him several matches, but in the last one I defeated the son of the man who owns Carmody's Cavaliers."

  "You killed him, to be precise," Duncan said. "Which is why they came after you. But you sure can hold your own in a fight."

  Duncan kept talking quickly to keep her from interrupting. "That's why we brought you here. I came to Galatea to fill out the ranks of my company. In the past couple of days we've signed on two." He looked at her pointedly. "We still need one more."

  This time she sat up without flinching, eyes flashing anger again. "I may be disgraced, freebirth, but I'm no mercenary."

  "Then what are you doing in Galaport?" Bovos asked. "And why were you fighting in the games?"

  She shook her head stubbornly. "Too long a tale."

  "You're right. You don't know us, we don't know you," Duncan said soothingly. "How about starting with something simple? I've told you my name. I'm from the planet Marik in the Free Worlds League. I trained as a Mech Warrior but decided I wanted to see the galaxy first. How about you?"

  Dawn did not answer immediately. The location of the Clan homeworlds was a secret, but not the name of the planet where she'd been stationed in the Steel Viper occupation zone. "I came from Jabuka."

  "What's your name?" Duncan asked, touching her shoulder gently so that she dropped back against the pillow once more.

  "My name is Dawn," she said, pushing his hand away roughly.

  "Trane, look at this star chart. She says she's from Jabuka."

  Duncan had gone down the hall to Trane's room, leaving Dawn to get some more rest. He had the chart spread out on the room's single small table.

  "So?"

  "Remember the SAFE report on the Cumbres raid? It said the Twenty-fourth Lyran Guards were attacked first by a company-sized unit from the Clans. The report also said the unit was testing new 'Mechs. So the Clanners had to slug it out with 'Mechs equal to their own. Then the fake Knights arrived and finished off the Guards after they'd been mauled by the Clanners. The Clan force had to withdraw because they took so much damage—first from the Guards and then from the fake Knights."

  "I see what you're driving at, Duncan. Jabuka is close enough to Cumbres for the Steel Vipers to launch a raid. Do you think she could have been part of the Clan strike on Cumbres?"

  "I don't know. She
said she's 'deshra' or something like that—means they threw her out and don't come back. I assume it also means she was dishonored in some way. But I don't know much about the Clans."

  Trane shrugged. "Nor I. But from some of the briefings I've seen, the greatest dishonor a Clan warrior can suffer is poor performance on the battlefield. That's what comes to mind first."

  "Dishonored, as in losing a battle against Inner Sphere forces, perhaps? What if she was a part of the Clan company that hit Cumbres? Those Clanners were expecting to find a regular Lyran Guard unit and they walked smack dab into a force of new 'Mechs. Would something like that be enough to get her thrown out of the Clans?"

  Trane shrugged. "I'm not sure. I'm no expert either."

  "Well, at the moment we're all she's got. I guess that's what made up her mind. I told her Mordoc would have nothing more to do with her now that she's made so many enemies here."

  "You're incorrigible," Trane said.

  "And get this," Duncan went on, "she made me promise not to pay her. She says she could never honorably sell her warrior skills, but that it's all right for her to accept food and board. From what I've heard of the Clans, I'd wager she's a damned good MechWarrior. We can cobble something together for her once we win some salvage. Having a Clanner ought to be a big help with our cover."

  Trane studied Duncan a moment. "How do you propose to use her?"

  "Well, Bovos and Hawkes already have some experience in one-on-one matches, so the four of us will form up the Command Lance. Dawn's got experience too, so we'll put her in the Fire Support Lance with Villiers, Blix, and Goto for backup in case one of us gets injured. She's certainly a high-profile item. The rest will make up the Recon Lance."

  Duncan had spoken quickly, anticipating an objection. He was sure Trane would have preferred to put all the Knights in two lances, with Duncan and the rest of the pick-up recruits in the third.

  But all Trane said was, "So, now we're a full company. All we need are some matches."

  "Exactly. What did you; find out?"

  "With the Galateans so desperate to keep the economy going, they schedule contests pretty regularly."

  "The Arena where we fought last time is called the Field of Combat, right?"

  Trane nodded. "The other is the Combat Range. A fifty-square-kilometer area complete with mock town, bridges, and different terrains. From what I've seen, here's how it works. There will be nine matches. The first four are lance-to-lance, the second four are one-on-one, and the final match is fought by what's left of the whole company."

  "We're going to be at a disadvantage in the lance fights," Duncan said thoughtfully. "We've never fought together as a unit. And we've got precious little time to train. We're going to have to do it right ... the first time out."

  "From what Hawkes and Bovos have said, it doesn't sound like they're big on following the rules around here either. They say you can break off a fight at any time by setting off a signal flare. Your opponent is supposed to honor it, but maybe he will, maybe he won't."

  "Our goal is to establish a reputation ... and quickly," said Duncan. "Losing a match because we withdrew from the fight wouldn't do much for us in that department, not to mention the salvage rights that go to whoever beats you. We can't afford that either individually or as a unit. For us, it's going to be do or die."

  "That's right," Trane said gravely. "To the death."

  "And now the big question—when do we start?"

  "Tomorrow. It seems there's an opening in the schedule. No one wants to be the first to take on last month's champions."

  "And who might they be?"

  Trane flashed a rare grin. "None other than Carmody's Cavaliers."

  "Good," Duncan said, grinning back. "Dawn'll love that."

  17

  Galaport

  Galatea

  Skye March, Federated Commonwealth

  22 May 3057

  Duncan sat looking at the secondary screen in the cockpit of his BattleMaster, suddenly wondering what he was doing here. Piloting a BattleMech in a series of murderous combats in a place like Galaport had certainly never been one of his dreams in life. But it had seemed like the only way to get into the circle of warriors where leads to the bogus Knights might be found. They'd known going in that Carmody's Cavaliers were cutthroats and bullies, but they'd also proven relentless in combat. Not only that; they had the advantage of being familiar with the Combat Range, where lances engaged lances. Despite that, Kalma's Company had won their first three matches against the Cavaliers.

  "Demon, do you see anything?" It was Hawkes on the line.

  "Not a thing, Gunner," Duncan returned.

  It was Trane who'd suggested the call sign of "Demon" for Duncan, apparently getting in his licks where he could. But Duncan didn't object to either the nickname or to how well four 'Mech pilots who barely knew each other were fighting together.

  "I hear the bookmakers are now giving us even odds against the Cavaliers," Trane said to no one in particular, and Duncan could have sworn he heard a note of pride.

  "Did you put a few C-bills down on us?" Duncan asked wickedly, knowing Trane wouldn't dignify the question with a response. Smiling to himself, he returned his attention to the tactical display. Still no blips indicating contact with their opponents. In the three previous matches the Cavaliers had seemed to depend on variations of a single tactic. After locating the most vulnerable 'Mech in the opposing lance, all four Cavaliers would attack it. Then they worked their way through the rest, always four against one. Neither brilliant nor original, which was why Duncan's team always found some way around it.

  Having won the coin toss for the match, the Cavaliers had the right of choosing their entry point on the fifty-kilometer Combat Range. To the north was a rise of rocky hills, then a desert plain typical of most of Galatea's bakingly hot climate, and what passed for a forest to the south. The Cavaliers had elected to enter from the north among the rocky hills and were now playing a waiting game.

  "I'm getting bored," said Bovos.

  "Me too, Ox. What about you, Paladin?"

  "Same here," Trane said. "I'm on my way." In their first match against the Cavaliers, luck had been on their side. When Carmody's Lance had converged on Hawkes in his Crusader, Duncan in his BattleMaster and Bovos in his Warhammer had wound up on the same path and come up behind the Cavaliers quite by accident.

  Thinking the Cavaliers might try something similar in the second match, Duncan and company came up with a plan of their own. Trane's Valkyrie wasn't the fastest light 'Mech available, but it did boast six tons of armor that let it keep fighting even while absorbing a fair amount of damage. It also had a jump-jet capacity of 150 meters and good armament. On its own the Valkyrie was no match for a medium or heavy 'Mech, but could be very effective as part of a lance.

  Trane had used his speed to find the Cavaliers and then taunt them until they attacked, believing him to be alone. The second match ended as abruptly and violently as the first, with Duncan, Bovos, and Hawkes swiftly hitting the Cavalier lance from the rear. Another variation on the theme was also successful in the third match. As he watched the Valkyrie disappear in the distance, Duncan hoped the Cavaliers would think they wouldn't try the same trick again.

  * * *

  Trane gazed at the low-slung mountains ahead. Somewhere, he assumed, in those rocks an Assassin, a Hunchback, and a Dragon should be waiting for him. He made a slow, steady approach to give the Cavaliers plenty of time to spot him. It also bought him time to think. Clinton Carmody's unit was supposed to be company-size. But in three days Carmody had lost three lances to Kalma's Company. Three lances constituted a company, yet here they were trying to ferret out yet another lance of Cavaliers. Approaching the foothills he throttled back the Valkyrie to just over ten kilometers per hour. He was looking for signs of heat-sink exhaust rising above the stone outcroppings.

  Still thinking about the Cavalier numbers, his mind flashed quickly over the last three matches. Trane was sure there
was something he was missing. Perhaps he'd been so eager to climb into his 'Mech that he hadn't properly studied his opponent. Carmody had the usual assortment of battered 'Mechs often typical of a mercenary company, but it wasn't till he thought back on yesterday's match, when a Javelin had come bearing down on him, that it hit him. All of Carmody's 'Mechs had the same white and gold crest painted on their chest armor. The Javelin displayed no such crest. And now that Trane thought of it, neither did at least half the 'Mechs they'd destroyed so far. He and Duncan had been using these fights to establish a quick reputation. Was it possible that Carmody was using the matches as a testing ground for potential recruits? If so, he would still have the better part of his original company intact.

  Trane stopped the Valkyrie. Ahead was a deep arroyo and a trail from the foothills of the mountains leading into it. The arroyo looked plenty big enough to conceal a lance of 'Mechs. Checking his sensors for the heat signatures of hidden 'Mechs, Trane nudged the Valkyrie forward to the edge of the deep gully. There were no Cavalier 'Mechs in the stretch of slough he could see, but it was obvious that they had been there. Directly below him in the soft dirt of the arroyo floor were the distinct impressions of giant 'Mech feet, and they were heading south ... away from the mountains.

  Trane eased his 'Mech down the slope leading into the arroyo. Calling up the topographic map of the Combat Range on his display, he could see that the arroyo meandered in a general southeasterly direction ending just outside the mock town of empty buildings. That's where they were heading— toward the town—not the forest where Duncan and the rest of the lance waited hidden among the trees. So predictable till now, the Cavaliers had suddenly changed their tactics.