Surrender Your Dreams

by Blaine Lee Pardoe

  Many hands grabbed her, and she felt restraint straps dig into her wrists. She smiled thinly. It had taken a lot of them to bring her down.

  * * *

  The shooting was sporadic and annoying—a psychological rather than a physical threat. The bullets from civilian-owned rifles ricocheted off the hull of the Onondaga, forcing the infantry patrols to stay close to the ship for cover. The shooters were mixed in with the protestors who had started to camp at the edge of the spaceport. Firing back meant risking hitting innocent protestors, so his orders still stood.

  His mission had gone sour before he had landed on Callison; he had come to grips with that. Other knights might have made a stand by now, but Kristoff was determined to control the situation. He had learned long ago that control was important to him. The things in his life he couldn't control, he didn't try to-—like his father's actions during the Jihad. The things he could control, he held onto with an iron fist.

  He had been called to the tactical operations room; someone had been caught attempting to board the DropShip. He was glad for the interruption to his thoughts. Erbe walked quickly through the ship to the lower deck. When he walked into tac-ops, he immediately noticed two things: The intruder was a woman, and she was wearing a sophisticated infiltration suit, capable of stopping a bullet or a knife. She was wearing a hood and had her hands bound behind her. Apparently Ada- mans made the capture; he was standing next to her with his hand on her shoulder, and Erbe could see sweat glistening on the parts of his face visible through the night mask. Adamans smiled broadly, proud of his prize.

  Erbe didn't wait to hear the report. He pulled off the hood and stared for a moment in silence.

  "Sir Erbe, good of you to make it to Callison on schedule," said Ghost Knight Ceresco Hancock.

  "Ceresco."

  "If you will have this gentleman remove my restraints, we can get down to business," she said. Her lip was swollen, but her voice rang with confidence.

  He nodded, and Adamans pulled out a massive knife. With practiced precision he reached behind her and flicked his wrist, cutting the strap. The Fidelis looked to Sir Erbe, who motioned for him to sit, then took a chair across from their visitor. "You could have contacted me through channels. There was no need to sneak up on us."

  She shrugged. "I like to keep my skills in practice, and I felt the risk was minimal. Besides, all transmissions are being monitored, and while I have some control over that process, I couldn't risk blowing my cover. I must admit I hadn't planned on someone strapping themselves to the belly of the DropShip behind that turret. My compliments to your troops." She cast a glance at Adamans, who nodded to acknowledge her praise.

  "You'll find that the Fidelis are not your run-of-the- mill Republic soldiers. They are as cunning as they are deadly," Erbe replied.

  She rubbed her jaw. "I am forced to agree."

  Kristoff addressed the Fidelis warrior. "I have some things to discuss with Ms. Hancock. Adamans, will you give us a few minutes alone?"

  He rose. "Ceresco Hancock, it was my pleasure to meet you." Kristoff was amused that she was caught off- guard by Adamans' attitude. He left the room before she could respond.

  As soon as the door clanged shut, Kristoff launched into a litany of recriminations. "You took off from New Earth without bothering to confirm our plans; we've been on the ground for two days and the only thing I hear from you is an attempt to break into my DropShip; I have landed on a world of The Republic that is apparently on the edge of open rebellion; I have well- organized protestors taking shots at my troops and my ship. I'd appreciate an explanation for any or all of this." He felt he'd managed to keep his anger in check.

  Her smile was almost gentle. "Sir Erbe, I had to leave as quickly as possible so that I could begin my mission here. Yes, this world is currently hostile to The Republic— Governor Stewart has seen to that. I have attained the position of head of the Directorate of Internal Affairs, and hopefully have gained her confidence in the process. Outside this ship, my name is Cheryl Gunson. Believe me, things have been challenging for both of us."

  "If you tell me what your mission objectives are, we can work together."

  She shook her head. "I wish I could, but I can't. You of all people know how important keeping a secret can be."

  He flinched. Was this about his father, about the Jihad? Why would she bring that up? Kristoff knew that other knights knew about what had happened back on Towne. but that was his father's mistake, not his. His face tightened. "What do you mean by that?"

  "You've dealt with ghost knights before. You know that a large part of our success is the secrets we keep."

  He took a deep breath and cursed himself for overreacting. "You're right, of course." He thought for a moment. "My biggest problem seems to be that Stewart has taken control of the militia and whipped up public sentiment against our presence."

  "She all but ordered the legate killed," Ceresco said flatly. "Her lust for power is just starting to roll. Left unchecked, she will pose a threat not just to The Republic but to any system within jumping distance."

  "My mission doesn't deal with her," he replied. "I have to secure those DropShip engines and the military hardware from the militia. I assume she's your problem."

  She nodded once. "The first part of your mission has become trickier. Those engines have been moved from their original warehouses to a position about a kilometer into the city proper, in the old section of town. I will give you the coordinates of the warehouse, but getting to them is not going to be easy."

  "Will the governor fight?"

  "Count on it. A battle against a Knight of the Sphere, innocent people being killed by aggression on the part of The Republic—it all plays perfectly into her hands. The people could be united against The Republic for years.

  "The Light Horse is already on alert. She doesn't know why you are here, but she's actively looking for a way to draw you out. She wants a little war—and she wants it on her terms."

  Kristoff relaxed for a moment and smiled. "We have at least two things on our side. I don't have to hunt for those engines, because you can tell me right where they are. And though the militia may outnumber us, I have the Fidelis warriors."

  "I'm impressed with them so far," she said, rubbing her jaw as if remembering Adamans' skill.

  "You don't know the half of it. The Fidelis are beyond special forces. I trained with them extensively on New Earth, and they put even our elite Republic troops to shame."

  "Interesting," she replied. "Why didn't Redburn use them when he was exarch, I wonder?"

  "There's not a lot of them, for one. We stripped away half their numbers just for the missions assigned by Sir Redburn. Also, the leading theory among the Republic troops is that they've been held in reserve because they're tainted somehow."

  "Tainted?"

  "I'm sure you heard the stories told about Stone's actions during the Jihad, how he did whatever it took to achieve victory. Well, the Fidelis are easily the equal of the Word of Blake's elite strike forces. It's possible that Stone struck a deal with some of the Wobbies during the Jihad and got them to turn traitor in return for full pardons. At least that's the idea of the moment."

  "This is a new one to me. I've only ever heard the popular version of Stone's fight—how he was an honorable man and soldier."

  "Trust me," Kristoff said sadly. "There was a dark side to him as well. All that mattered was victory."

  "Well, if they can help tip the scales in a fight, that's all that matters to me. There are a lot of ways to get to the warehouse where those engines are stored, but only a few roads that you can use to get them back to the DropShip."

  "So we run the risk of getting bottled in."

  She narrowed her gaze. "I can help you. 1 have access to full schematics of the city, right down to the sewer pipe diameters if we need them. You'll have to go fast in order to pull this off. Because I head up Internal Affairs, if I know when you plan to move and exactly where you are going to be, I should be
able to manipulate things so that the Light Horse is in the wrong place at the wrong time."

  "So you'll need to know our plan."

  "That's right."

  Kristoff rubbed his hands together. "I'll get Colonel Adamans in here to lay out the operation."

  She checked her chronometer. "Let's do it. I can't risk being seen here—with the enemy." She grinned, and her swollen lip twisted her smile.

  Altar of Freedom 3

  New Dearborn, Ryde

  Jade Falcon Occupation Zone

  Fortress Republic (-18 days)

  Ryde was never described by visitors as a beautiful world. Its three continents hung in a shroud of cold, sulfurous atmosphere. The atmosphere was so thin that the crew had been weaned to it by changing the air mix on the DropShips and slowly training their bodies to deal with the difference. All three continents sported agrodomes and were dotted with heavy industry and mining operations. Dull brown mountains jutted into the thin, wispy clouds that swirled in the upper atmosphere. From her perspective on the cramped command deck of the DropShip Excelsior, the landing seemed to be going smoothly. With Captain Galloway's permission, Lady Crystal Synd was strapped into an out-of-the-way jump seat, listening to their progress on a headset plugged into the bulkhead.

  There had been six hundred and eighty million inhabitants on Ryde before the Jade Falcons landed. Malvina Hazen, the media-proclaimed "Terror of Ryde," had faced only light resistance when her forces had attacked the world. Despite that, the Falcons wanted to make sure that the locals understood the price of resistance. In a sports stadium in the capital city of Heaven's Gate, they had rounded up sixty-eight thousand civilians. One out of every ten of that number was separated from the group and slaughtered. The image was broadcast around the world, and the Falcons allowed holovids of the event to be smuggled off-world. The message was clear— tangle with the Jade Falcons, and you pay a price in blood and carnage. It was a lesson that Lady Synd had no desire to repeat.

  The twin DropShip of the Excelsior, the Pontchartrain, came into view for a second off the starboard bow. The ships were approaching the world in close proximity to each other, as they had traveled on the entire journey in from the nadir jump point. The Falcons would know they were coming, but there was a slight chance that their sensors might tag one of the ships as an echo. It was a narrow hope at best, but at this point Lady Synd was willing to take any edge offered.

  Based on the distribution of the Falcons' aerospace assets, they expected any attack force bold enough to come to Ryde to hit Heaven's Gate. If she was making a direct assault to retake the world, that was the place Lady Synd would land. Conversely, the Republic ships pitched out of orbit in unison on a high-speed burn. Their trajectory was just within the safety limits but designed to catch the Falcon aerospace elements hovering over the wrong site.

  The city loomed in the distance as the ships dropped low to the ground. They were flying fast and close toward the city over yellow-green grassy plains. Now they would break off, each going after their initial objectives. They would rendezvous at the landing zone in Veterans Park for the deployment of the main attack force. She leaned forward and activated a secure communications subsystem to the other ship.

  "Major Greene, the time has come. Good luck to you and Captain Boyne. See you on the LZ," she said.

  "We are running our communication program right now, m'lady. The Jade Falcons will think that we're something other than Republic forces," he replied. "See you on the ground." Suddenly the Pontchartrain listed away from the Excelsior, off to its objective—the John Cabin Parkway. The Excelsior slowed slightly and lurched off on a different vector, this one taking it above the bridges over the River Rouge.

  She felt the ship quake slightly and vibrate as the rear starboard pod opened. The ship banked gently and popping static filled her earpiece, followed by the voice of Captain Paulis. "Rat Squad has deployed," he reported.

  "Excellent," she said out loud. "Captain Galloway, take us in. I've got to get to my 'Mech."

  * * *

  Captain Boyne charged across Woodward Avenue to the ground floor of the New Dearborn University hospital, his squad only a few meters behind him. The building seemed much larger in real life than it had on the holographic table. John Cabin Parkway, the main artery for half the city to navigate in from the suburbs, sprawled just beyond the building and intersected the avenue on which he and his team had landed. Boyne turned the head of his modified Gnome battle armor and surveyed the area. The drop had gone without a hitch. If anyone noticed his troops on the ground, they had fled for cover . . . just the way he liked it.

  "Braddock, double-time your team across the parkway and begin work on Bravo target. I'll handle Alpha. Stick to the operational protocol."

  "Fire alarms first, explosions second. Got it, sir," replied Braddock. He was not a Fidelis warrior, but Boyne felt he had proven himself to be competent. Boyne activated the mission timer on his Gnome's right forearm. The running clock was reflected on the armor's faceplate.

  "Assume overwatch pattern Epsilon. Begin the evac of that building now," he barked to his own team. Even with the fire alarm giving warning, this was going to cost lives. "Teuber, you are our eyes. Take your position on the roof of the next building and monitor comm traffic. I must know the moment you detect the Falcons."

  "Service!" replied Teuber. "My blood will not fail you."

  Boyne stared upward at the skyscraper. In a few minutes it would cease to exist. He did not approve of the evacuation orders that Lady Synd had attached to his mission. Better to simply collapse the buildings across the Parkway and not worry about the civilians; she had added a factor that reduced the chance of success for the mission. What he would not admit to his team was that he respected the knight for making that call. It took courage to do what was morally right, and Boyne respected that.

  * * *

  Sir Greene was unaccustomed to operating in the open. He was a ghost knight, an intelligence officer. He was trained for military operations—hell, he had spent years in the military before being recruited for service as a ghost. That had been last decade. Since then, he had lived in the shadows, using dark alleys and smoke- filled bars to protect The Republic. Commanding troops in battle was something he knew, and an area of expertise that he had not tapped in years.

  The truth was he missed it.

  He angled his Maxim armored personnel carrier forward onto the green grass of Veterans Park. The Aurora-cass Pontchartrain loomed over him as he turned the APC around to get his bearings. He was to lead the drive south into the heart of New Dearborn. Once there, he would locate the scientists and extract them. Damien Redburn had provided him with a secondary objective: to copy, and then corrupt, the records of the research that the scientists were working on. In his written orders this was explicit: "This research material presents a direct threat to the future of The Republic." No pressure there. That would also give him the window of opportunity to leave the Falcon after-action investigators a little more evidence that this strike had indeed come from the Lyran Commonwealth.

  Greene would have preferred to have been the pilot of a BattleMech in the battle, but he had to agree when Lady Synd pointed out to him that it simply wasn't practical. There was no way to take the 'Mech into the facility once they arrived. He felt far more exposed in the APC than he ever would have in a BattleMech.

  He was taking a lance of troops with him while Lady Synd established a defensive perimeter and secured a corridor between his strike team and the DropShips. It would not do any good to secure the researchers, steal their research material and then be trapped by the Falcons. The Fidelis troops in his lance gave him a boost of confidence. Weeks of watching them train made it clear that they were a force to be reckoned with. He wanted to pity the Jade Falcons when they engaged the Fidelis, but then he thought of the massacre of citizens on Ryde and felt that the Clan warriors would be getting just what they deserved.

  "Strike Team Dagger form up on me," Greene
signaled. Captain Paulis was with him, piloting a Griffin. "We do this just like the exercise. Let's put the pedal to the metal." Before any of the Fidelis warriors could ask him what he meant by his last comment (he had come to expect them to question the use of colorful commands), Sir Greene throttled the hovercraft APC on an angle that took him into the center of the city.

  * * *

  Crystal trotted her Templar to the south, where the edge of the lush green and yellow grasses of the park reached the city streets. Each step made the ferrocrete roadway grind and groan under the stress. The buildings facing her effectively functioned like a blank wall, the only gaps the streets and dangerously narrow alleys that sliced into them. She saw hotels, stores, other businesses. According to the sensors on her tactical display, she had lost the magnetic anomaly reading on Captain Paulis'

  Griffin, but knew that their units were about four blocks apart.

  "Deploy the artillery ASAP," she ordered. The Sniper had been designated for a gentle hill in the park. That position would allow it to provide covering fire to the force to the south. The other piece, a smaller Padilla, had been positioned near the DropShips to protect the LZ and hopefully hammer any Jade Falcons that might punch through. Her force was a mobile strike team. They would secure the corridor between the research facility and the LZ and delay any Jade Falcon attempts to get into the heart of the city. On paper it sounded a lot easier than it was in real life.