Star lord

by Donald G. Phillips

  The Cavaliers were fielding three mediums and a heavy against the Kalma Company's heavy, medium, light, and assault 'Mech. Carmody's crew were only forty tons lighter in overall weight, which made for fairly even forces. As Trane moved the Valkyrie slowly down the arroyo, he punched up the specs on the Cavalier 'Mechs from his computer ID program. The Assassin. Designed for close-range fighting and originally intended to replace the lighter Wasp and Stinger 'Mechs. The Centurion. With its autocannon, missiles, and medium lasers, best at close range. The Hunchback. A solid reputation as a streetfighter. The Dragon. A short, squat, sixty-ton monster made for brawls in tighter quarters. The specs told the story. Trane knew what they were up to now.

  The floor of the arroyo began to rise slightly. Most of the turns had been gradual, offering no sharp bends around which an enemy 'Mech could hide .. . until now. Trane could see the arroyo making a tight turn to the left ahead, and his warrior instincts told him that danger lurked less than a hundred kilometers away. Almost without thought, he fired his jump jets. As the Valkyrie lifted out of the deep trench he could see what had been waiting for him. It was the Centurion.

  "Demon, they're in the town." Trane was shouting into his mike even before his 'Mech had settled on the rim of the arroyo. "I jumped over a Centurion in a trench north of it."

  "Do tell. Nice to hear from you, Paladin," came Duncan's voice over the commline. "We were beginning to think you'd decided to sit this one out."

  Seeing a cloud of dust spraying up from the arroyo, Trane kicked the Valkyrie into a full run. The Centurion didn't have his speed, especially with the narrow confines of a deep ditch to negotiate. If he could manage to be a respectable distance behind the Centurion when it came up out of the arroyo, he might get off a few back shots with his LRMs.

  From the dust rising out of the gash in the ground Trane knew the floor of the arroyo was ascending. The Centurion would be back on the surface in a few minutes. Ahead of him he saw a steep rise. Shooting a quick glance at his topographic display he noted that the rise was just a few kilometers north of the mock town. The arroyo ended on the other side of the rocky knoll. As his 'Mech started up the rise he could see smoke billowing above the crest and hear the concussions of SRM explosions. Centurions didn't have SRMs. Who was shooting at who?

  Trane brought the Valkyrie to a stop. Standing in a semicircle a half-kilometer from the slope leading out of the arroyo were Duncan, Hawkes, and Bovos in their 'Mechs. Hawkes was firing another SRM barrage into the Centurion, whose right arm—along with its autocannon—was already ripped off. The 'Mech's torso also showed a gaping hole where the Luxor LRM 10-rack had once been. Myomer bundles were snapping and showering sparks from the joint of the severed limb. More fire from Hawkes, this time his missiles blasting into the Centurion's torso, and the Cavalier 'Mech died.

  "He was probably sent out to lure us into the town," said Trane. "It just dawned on me a few minutes ago that their lance is a perfect bunch of streetfighters. But, wait a minute. How come you're up here instead of in the forest?"

  "Well, I had nothing to do but sit around and think while you were out cruising the countryside," said Duncan, "and I came to the same conclusion about the 'Mechs they're using in this match. If I was right I figured they'd have a scout out trying to draw you to the town. When I saw this arroyo on my topographic I knew that's how they'd get from the hills to the town without us seeing them. Sooner or later I knew you'd find it and come this way."

  "Hey," Hawkes cut in, "don't forget we've got three more hiding over there in the town."

  "My guess is that the Centurion was supposed to draw us in, then the Assassin would appear and try to split us into pairs," Duncan said. "I'll bet anything the Hunchback and Dragon are well concealed and waiting to get us with a back or side shot. What do you think, Paladin?"

  "I'll trot down the main street and Ox can follow me. You and Gunner look for another way in. This is the kind of fight you make up as you go along."

  "I agree. Good luck, guys." Duncan watched Trane move the Valkyrie directly toward the town. No matter how much the man might be a pain in the butt at times, Duncan had to admit he had courage when it counted.

  * * *

  Rod Trane entered the mock town on its main street. Duncan was right. Five or six blocks ahead the Assassin was pretending to cross the main thoroughfare from a side street. Supposedly detecting Trane's presence, it turned and raised its right arm, firing two bursts from the medium laser encased in that limb. The beams of energy shot past Trane's 'Mech, missing him by a wide margin. But, then, the Assassin wasn't really trying to score a hit. It continued across the main pavement and down a side street.

  "Demon, you were right," Trane said into his neurohelmet mike. "The Assassin is trying to pull me down an alley. Looks like it leads generally south."

  "Roger that, Paladin. Take it easy. Demon is off the comm for a while," came Duncan's response.

  Trane didn't have time to speculate about why Duncan suddenly wanted to run silent. He guided the Valkyrie down the street and into the narrower lane. Seeing the twists and turns it made ahead, he knew the Assassin and its chums could be waiting for him around any of those corners.

  "Paladin, this isn't good." Even over the commline the apprehension in Bovos's voice came through. And it was valid. The Cavaliers had the advantage. They had fought on the Combat Range before and they would know its every nook and cranny, including the town. Raima's lance had only fought three matches on the range so far, and not one of them had been in the town. Bovos had every right to feel apprehensive. They were in a tight spot.

  As Trane came around the next corner, the alley opened up into a circular plaza. Across the plaza he could see the Assassin starting to enter another side street. There was just barely enough room for it to turn around and launch a barrage of SRMs. Again, Trane realized the Assassin pilot wasn't trying to hit him but to tease him into continuing the chase. Looking around the plaza he could see why. Two other streets entered the square, but were at an angle away from him. The other Cavalier 'Mechs were probably in those streets, but he wouldn't be able to look down them until he was past where they entered the plaza. Another SRM whizzed into a building to his right.

  "Impatient, isn't he?" Bovos's question indicated he wanted to move.

  "Let's do it, Ox." Trane began to cross the plaza toward the Assassin, which now began to target him in earnest. Another SRM grazed the left shoulder of his Valkyrie, but didn't detonate until a second later. The blast rocked his 'Mech slightly, but he pressed forward undamaged. Then it happened.

  Trane could see the exhaust trail from the Assassin's left torso, but only two of the missiles left their tubes. The others remained jammed there. The Assassin, bless its computerized head, was demonstrating one of its flaws—an unreliable ammo-feed system—and the 'Mech's safety mechanisms weren't allowing the jammed missiles to fire. Trane targeted the 'Mech's hip joints and began to launch his own SRMs one after another. The Assassin pilot apparently panicked, laying out a pattern of medium-laser fire in hopes of slowing Trane down or even deflecting a missile. It didn't work. Trane's missiles were beginning to chew the Assassin to pieces.

  "Paladin ..." Trane heard Bovos over the commline a split second before he felt the impact, like someone was jabbing at his 'Mech from behind. The sounds told him it was autocannon fire, and from the reports on his damage monitor he knew it had to be that big Tomodzauru cannon on the Hunchback. He was losing control of his 'Mech and there wasn't much he could do. He tried to turn the Valkyrie to the right, but just then the right hand of the Hunchback suddenly came crashing down on his 'Mech's right shoulder, missing the cockpit by less than a meter. A second later the medium 'Mech slammed its fist into the Valkyrie's torso just behind the head. The punch was so violent Trane's seat restraints gave way and he was hurled out of his seat. Then his head slammed into something and the whole world suddenly went black ...

  18

  Galaport

  Galatea


  Skye March, Federated Commonwealth

  22 May 3057

  Even before he opened his eyes Trane knew he had one hell of a headache. He wasn't a religious man, but just in case he was dead instead of alive, he hoped there was some place of everlasting life for warriors who died in battle. But then he recalled that the places for the good were supposed to be free of mortal woes ... and pain! Since his head was splitting maybe he was dead but had ended up somewhere reserved for those not so good.

  "I think he's coming around."

  Trane groggily recognized Hawkes's voice.

  "Well, finally. First he lollygags all over the Combat Range and then gets the bejesus stomped out of him. It's about time for him to wake up and get going." That was Duncan. Either they were all dead or they had survived the match. Trane opened his eyes.

  "How are you feeling, Rod Trane?" Trane turned to look at Dawn, who was sitting on a chair beside his bed. Looking around the room he finally noticed that Villiers, Blix, and Goto were also gathered around.

  "Fill me in," he said weakly.

  "A most impressive battle, Captain," said Jon Blix. "We saw it on the field monitors in the spectator's gallery."

  "Captain?" Hawkes instantly picked up on Blix's slip of the tongue.

  Duncan laughed nervously. "He and Trane once served together," he put in quickly, realizing it was a pretty lame effort to cover over the slip.

  "Well ... Captain," said Hawkes, "you owe your hide to Duncan. When your 'Mech went down, that Hunchback was about to stomp you into scrap metal. Duncan came down the same street where it had been hiding and sneaked up behind it. When the Hunchback tried to duke it out, Duncan showed him what those big fists on a BattleMaster can do."

  "And the Dragon?"

  "He came looking for me," said Bovos, "but when he saw the BattleMaster he started to back up. He clipped me with an autocannon burst, but then Hawkes came up from behind and crushed the cockpit with one big downward punch. I carved him up with my PPCs and finished off what was left of the Assassin."

  "They're talking like it was an easy fight ... Rod," said Karl Villiers, a note of pride in his voice. "It wasn't. Everyone was shot up and injured in some way. It was 'Mech to 'Mech, and it was dirty, but we won." Like the rest of the Knights, he'd had his doubts about how well this ragtag lot would do, but he couldn't help but admire their tenacity in battle.

  Trane glanced around the room. Duncan, Bovos, and Hawkes looked cut up or bruised, or both. "How badly did I get it?"

  "The Valkyrie is history, Rod," said Duncan, "and you've got a mild concussion. We're all pretty lucky really."

  "I've fought with a concussion before. I can do it again. When's our next match?"

  "Not for another two days," Duncan said. Obviously, nothing was going to keep Trane out of the fight.

  "Good, I'll be ready then for sure." Trane was feeling better just knowing that his injuries weren't grave. "In the meantime, I'm starved."

  "Let's go to The Gardens," suggested Blix.

  Trane looked at the young Knight in amazement. "That's the most expensive restaurant in Galaport."

  "No problem ... Trane. My treat," said Blix expansively. The young Knight seemed to stumble over Trane's name every time he spoke to him.

  "Your treat? Where did you come up with that kind of money, Blix?"

  "Well, I, uh ..." Blix was trapped. He was going to have to confess. "I made a wager on the match ... on you, of course. It paid off rather well."

  Trane said nothing for a moment. Then the humor of it hit him and he began to laugh. Duncan, Hawkes, and Bovos began to chuckle, too, until the four of them were fairly roaring with delight. Dawn looked from one to the other, then over at Jon Blix, who gave her a shrug. She understood the concept of the wager, but for the life of her she didn't know what these freeborns found so funny.

  * * *

  "Jon, if you keep winning wagers big enough to pay for meals like this, we're all going to get fat!" Duncan was feeling very content at the moment.

  "I do not wish to dampen this mood of self-satisfaction," said Dawn, "but we should tell Rod Trane about the attacks, quiaff!" She had eaten very little, just enough to keep up her strength. The only food available on this world was vile, either too rich or so obviously lacking in nutrition that Dawn could barely get it down her throat.

  "Attacks?" Trane said, putting his fork down so sharply that it clattered loudly on his dish, drawing looks of alarm from some of the other diners sitting near them.

  "This afternoon," said Duncan. "Someone threw a knife at Bovos when we were coming out of the 'Mech bay area. Fortunately, it only grazed his collar bone and bounced off. But there was such a crowd gathered around us that we couldn't see who it was. It had to be one of Carmody's flunkies, though. Who else?"

  Bovos picked up the thread of the story. "Then, while we were waiting for the medic's report on you at the dispensary, someone took a shot at Hawkes through the window of the waiting room. It's a wonder no one else got hurt."

  "It would seem the Cavaliers mean to win these matches one way or another," said Dawn. "They are without honor."

  While the staff was clearing away their dinner plates, Trane told them what he'd been thinking on the field that afternoon. "Something occurred to me in the middle of the match today," he said. "For a unit that's supposed to be company-size, there are an awful lot of those Cavaliers. And they just keep right on coming."

  Goto nodded, but waited to speak until Trane was finished ordering a honey-based liqueur for dessert. "Duncan asked me to check into that yesterday," he said. "I found out that the Cavaliers have been busy recruiting new members ever since becoming last month's big winner. They've been telling people they've got a new contract, but have to build up to at least one more company ... or two. I think they're trying to get up to battalion strength."

  "And they've been testing their new recruits against us?" Trane was irritated not only at the Cavaliers, but at the fact that Duncan had thought about this matter a full day before he had.

  "Sounds logical," said Bovos. "They've got little love for us ever since we jumped in to even up the odds against Dawn that night. By pitting their new recruits against us they can't lose. Either we die or they eliminate recruits who can't win matches. Actually, it's not a bad program."

  The waiter returned with Trane's drink and he took a swallow of it. The fiery liquid stung his palate a bit more than he remembered, but it was still very good. "By my calculations the Cavaliers should have enough pilots and 'Mechs for the rest of the matches," he said. "Karl, you and Jon and Goto start spreading the word that the Cavaliers are afraid to come out and face us and are using 'ringers' against us. That ought to guarantee Carmody and crew showing up for future bouts."

  "Good idea," said Duncan. "The next four matches are one-on-one in the arena. The final one is the free-for-all of whoever is left. They should have at least a lance or two of the original Cavaliers for those fights. And make no mistake about it, they'll be out for blood. Especially after Karl and company start wondering out loud if they're afraid to face us. We've all got to stay very, very, sharp."

  Trane took another sip of his drink. It was less inflammatory this time. "I've got a question," he said. "How did you manage to come up behind those Cavaliers in the mock town on the range?"

  Duncan shrugged. "I just decided to try it," he said simply. "That's why I dropped off the net. I didn't want anyone to know I was coming that way, and I couldn't tell you what I was going to do. I looked in the direction you were going and picked out what I thought was the likeliest spot for an ambush. Hawkes and I just snuck up on 'em."

  "Well done," Trane said, standing up. "Given our successes to date ... I propose a toast." He raised his glass, looked around once at this group of unlikely comrades, and then pitched forward facedown onto the table.

  19

  Galaport

  Galatea

  Skye March, Federated Commonwealth

  23 May 3057

  Onc
e again Trane was waking up to a nuclear-class headache. It seemed a bit much for less than two ounces of strong drink.

  "Rod, can you hear me?" It was Duncan's voice.

  "I can hear you." Trane opened his eyes slowly. He was waiting for Duncan to begin chiding him about a Knight of the Inner Sphere drinking enough to pass out, but instead Duncan looked serious.

  "You were poisoned," said Duncan. "It was Goto who picked up on it. The poison was in the drink you ordered."

  Trane nodded. "I remember now. It tasted a bit too strong, but I didn't think anything about it at the time."

  "At first we thought you'd drunk too much, but then Goto said we'd better get you some medical attention because you already had a concussion."

  Trane looked sharply over at Duncan. "It had to be Carmody's work again, yes?"

  "We can't say be sure, but we haven't made any other enemies around here. The poison is a paralytic type. It paralyzes body organs. We got you to a medic before it killed you, but it will be several days before the effects wear off."

  "Nonsense. I'll be up before you know ..." Trane started to raise himself up in the bed, but fell back instantiy, barely able to control his muscles. Duncan was right. He was going to be out of action for awhile.

  "It's a good thing you didn't get to finish that toast, Rod. If you'd drunk the whole glass, you'd be dead now." And that would have been one humdinger of a report, Duncan thought. Try explaining to the Captain-General that one of his Knights died from making a toast.

  "When's our next match?"

  "Tomorrow. And then a match each day until all five are completed ... assuming any of us make it that far. I'm going to have to replace you, Rod."

  "Replace me? What are you talking about?"