Initiation to War

by Robert N. Charrette

  Impressed by the man's look and by the way he evaded the reporters to find a place away from the crowd, Kelly wanted to talk to him. He hesitated. The man was a foreigner, and a higher-ranking officer in the opposition military. No, that second part wasn't right. Yes, Namihito was high-ranking—intimidation enough—but the Duvic Palatine wasn't the enemy; they were a polity of Epsilon Eridani just like County Shu.

  So why shouldn't the two of them talk? Weren't they both MechWarriors? Didn't that give them something in common? Still, he hesitated. What finally got him moving was realizing that he would never hear the end of it if JJ found out that he had been in the same room as the Duvic commanders and hadn't tried to learn something about them.

  Namihito looked older up close. The close-cropped, iron gray hair showed hints of white and there were wrinkles in the mahogany skin around his eyes and mouth. The sudden appreciation of the Kuritan's age daunted Kelly a bit, but he got a sense of acceptance or maybe brotherhood when the man turned to face him as he approached. Yet there was a feeling of distance, too, like the Kuritan lived in a place to which Kelly had yet to travel. Kelly had sometimes gotten a similar, less intense impression around the veteran Veck and it was quite a bit like what he'd imagined it would feel like to be in the presence of a master MechWarrior from one of the Warrior Houses.

  Kelly cleared his dry throat and introduced himself, bowing in the old, formal Capellan way.

  "You must be Major Namihito. I'm Tybalt Kelly, County Shu Volunteer Battalion."

  The Kuritan officer bowed back, less deeply, as befitted a superior greeting an inferior, despite the fact that his dark gray uniform bore no rank tabs.

  "I am Namihito."

  "Isn't a lance a little small for a major to be leading?"

  "Convention would have it so."

  "And you're not conventional?"

  "An officer leads his troops. Troops know their officers. What matters rank?"

  "It matters a lot where we come from."

  "So ka."

  "I'll just bet you do understand. You're Kuritan, aren't you?"

  Namihito's eyes bored into Kelly. "You are inquisitive."

  "Just trying to be friendly.

  "We are not friends." His eyes slid away.

  Kelly scrambled to recover the ground he'd apparently just lost. "We could be soon. The negotiations, I mean. We're supposed to be settling whatever it is that got Presider Price's shorts twisted around. This time next week all this trade nonsense will be old news, and our units could be hunting bandits together before the month is out."

  "Shigatta ga nai."

  Whatever, eh? Kelly decided to try another tack to crack Namihito's reserve. "I've heard it said that Kuritans are the best individual MechWarriors, and the most honorable."

  "I have heard that said as well."

  "Would you say it was true?"

  "House affiliation has nothing to do with individual skill or achievement or, most especially, honor."

  Kelly detected an edge of bitterness behind the Kuritan's calm, soft delivery. "You don't sound like you care much for your homeland."

  "I am a mercenary MechWarrior. I have no homeland, only a contract."

  "So you are ronin," Kelly mused, belatedly realizing that he had spoken aloud when Namihito turned a cold stare on him. "I am sorry. I meant no offense. I have nothing but respect for the old codes and the warriors who follow them. I meant no disrespect."

  "You are young. I was once young myself. It is a painful time."

  Was that a crack in the reserve? "Ain't that the truth?"

  Namihito made no reply.

  "Listen. This whole conference deal is about being good neighbors. Good neighbors don't have to be friends, but it doesn't hurt to be friendly. What say we do our part for better relations and have some drinks or something? We're all MechWarriors and that's gotta count for something. We can trade war stories or rag on the politicians or whatever you want."

  The Kuritan remained silent.

  "I'll buy," Kelly offered in desperation.

  "Public bars are loud and disturbing to the wa."

  Which wasn't exactly a "no."

  "I heard there's a good club in the old town, down near the lake front. Club Hoodedoo. They have private rooms. Quiet places where people can talk."

  Namihito studied Kelly's face, unguessable thoughts moving behind his impassive expression. Kelly tried to look friendly. And respectful.

  "Fraternization is not forbidden in my contract, but I do not find it conducive to good discipline," Namihito said. "Will your officer be there?"

  "I can try to talk him into it."

  "If you can do so, I will meet with you."

  "Consider it done," Kelly promised. Rash, he knew, but he was pretty sure Veck would go for a chance to schmooze the Kuritan. "Club Hoodedoo, okay?"

  "I will find it."

  They agreed to make it a "lancemates welcome" deal. Kelly figured that wouldn't hurt his pocket too badly since the Kuritan had only one lancemate in town and Kelly, for sure, wasn't buying for his own 'mates. He started developing a plan to get them, especially the news hungry JJ, to chip in on the cost.

  Getting Veck to agree turned out to be easy, much easier than getting his lancemates to agree to chip in on the bill. Unfortunately, finding Club Hoodedoo proved not so easy. Kelly and his lancemates arrived well after the appointed hour.

  "What a dump!" Slug had been complaining about the neighborhood for the last three blocks. Now it seemed that he liked their destination less than the journey.

  Kelly had more important things on his mind. A quick look around the club's crowded main room only ramped up his worry that Namihito had given up on them and left.

  "Looks like we got stood up," said Sam.

  "Hey, I'm dying of thirst here," Slug complained.

  "There's the bar." JJ pointed out the rack of bottles, which was all that could be seen past the elbow-to-elbow mob seeking refreshment. "It looks open to an assault."

  Slug didn't jump at the chance. "I came because you all said we ought to meet the Kuritans. I didn't really want to come here."

  "What you don't want to do is to pay for a drink," JJ concluded.

  "And you do?"

  "No, I don't. Not for you anyway."

  "Which is spot on for you, JJ. You don't care about anyone but yourself."

  Kelly didn't know what had gotten into his lancemates, but he couldn't stand it any more. "All right, all right. I'll buy you both drinks if it'll shut you up while I try to find them."

  "Crowd will take some working," Veck said as Kelly arranged drinks for his fractious 'mates.

  "They won't be in the crowd," he told Veck. "I'll check the private rooms."

  "Want company?" Sam asked.

  And a witness to what was going to be an abject apology for tardiness? "No, thanks. If I find him, I'll come back and get you guys."

  Kelly made his way to the back of the club. The private rooms were curtained alcoves off a narrow corridor that started in one corner, circled around, and emerged in the other corner. There was only space for a dozen or so alcoves, and if he didn't mind butting into other peoples' parties, it wouldn't take long. But he did mind; it was bad manners—and potentially dangerous. The first three were empty, curtains drawn back, so he didn't have to face his dilemma until the fourth.

  As he stood, trying to decide whether manners—and good sense—outweighed his need to find Namihito, a man emerged from the alcove and barged right into Kelly. As they jostled in the narrow corridor, the man's cowled trenchcoat slipped open, revealing an elaborate tunic trimmed in a style Kelly recognized as belonging to a Word of Blake adept. The hall was dark and the man's face was shadowed in his hood, but his voice, raised in cursing Kelly's clumsiness, fixed itself in Kelly's mind. Adepts were usually soft-spoken in public, and the strident tone of the man's unjust accusations jarred. Kelly did his best to get out of the man's way, but he got no thanks, only a final insult as the man stalked off, brushing
aside the curtain and vanishing into the crowded club.

  The departing adept's coat had caught at the alcove's concealing curtain as he exited. Kelly had only gotten a glimpse into the badly lit space, but he had seen two men remaining in the room. One was a big, bald guy in a cooling vest and the other a cocoa-skinned fellow in civilian clothes. He thought the bald guy looked like Crawford, but hadn't gotten a good enough look to be sure. He was sure that the second man wasn't Namihito; his skin tone wasn't dark enough.

  If it was Crawford in there, could the Kuritan have come with Crawford? Could he be in there? No, the room was small, and there was no place for the Kuritan to be sitting that Kelly wouldn't have seen a foot or an elbow or something.

  Kelly checked the other alcoves. Two more were open and empty. He'd have to deal with interrupting the people in the closed-off ones. How? He decided to be straight forward and just ask for Namihito at each of them. He mostly got "no" for an answer, some polite, most not. A couple of the responses were obscene and included suggestions as to what he might do with himself. In the best Warrior House tradition, he let those responses simply pass through him. But from none of the alcoves came an affirmative. He didn't bother with the one occupied by the Crawford look-alike and his friend.

  Namihito wasn't present. Kelly had blown it.

  Dejected, he returned to his lancemates.

  Veck had an answer. "So we're here, and they're not. It's still a bar, isn't it? Let's get to it. First round's on me."

  They managed to find a table, but they hadn't gotten through that first round before a dark shadow occluded the light. It was Kingston Crawford, in all his hairy-chested splendor. Crawford had two other MechWarriors in tow, but neither one was cocoa-skinned. One was a tall, lanky blond with strong Scandinavian ancestry and the other a compact female with dark hair and an olive complexion. Each wore a Tooth of Ymir unit patch with a red bar across it. One didn't need to be a ferret to figure that these two were Crawford's lancemates.

  "Well, well, lookee here," Crawford bellowed. "We've got Count Shu's baddest boys out on the town. Four cubs and one tired old lion. You must be Veck."

  "That's right."

  "Surviving being a nursemaid?"

  "I'm surviving. I find being a nursemaid is better than needing one. How are you surviving?"

  "Oh, that's good. Nice return volley. You're okay, Veck."

  Crawford snagged a chair from a nearby table, dumping the occupant in the process. Crawford's size and the presence of two back-ups seemed to convince the displaced patron that there was no reason to make a quarrel over it. Crawford seated himself in his purloined chair next to Sam.

  "Hello, pretty thing."

  Sam rolled her eyes and shifted her chair away from him and closer to Kelly's. She leaned into Kelly, wordlessly making her point.

  Crawford was philosophical about it. "Maybe later, sweet. When you're looking to upgrade."

  He introduced his companions. The blond was Powell Jorgensson, the Enforcer's pilot. The woman was Adelaide Tobin who ran the Clint. Jorgensson just nodded, but Tobin had something to say.

  "Hello, Jeremy," she said to Veck.

  "Hello, Addy," Veck responded.

  "You two know each other?" asked Kelly.

  "We've met," Veck stated.

  "Still a man of few words, eh, Jeremy?" Tobin shrugged. "Yeah, kid, we've met. Long time ago. Another planet, another life."

  "Did Major Namihito come with you?" Kelly asked.

  Crawford guffawed. "The Kuritan stick? This place has got too much life for him and his crew. He and his shadow blew outta here ages ago."

  "His shadow? He was being followed?" JJ was always looking for intrigue.

  "What? Naw. I was talking about—what's his name— his number two."

  "Duvorshak," said Adelaide.

  "Who the hell cares about them anyway? Ya know, I saw you guys over here and I thought there's some MechWarriors; maybe they can help me out."

  "What sort of help?" asked Veck.

  "It's my unit. The name, ya know. A good unit's gotta have a good name. I'm thinking of calling it the Claw of Ymir," he said, tapping his prosthetic hand. "Some of the guys have a nostalgia for the old unit, ya know. Seeing that we fight tooth and claw, I thought, we could play off that. Whaddya think?"

  "Not our business," Veck said.

  "You're as stiff as that Kuritan board." Crawford looked around the table and focused on Kelly. "What about you, kid? Whaddya think?"

  "I'd heard your unit split from the Tooth of Ymir over political differences. I don't see why you'd want an association in your names. Unless, of course, you're still part of the Tooth."

  "Still a part? Ya mean like a crown or a filling. Maybe ya mean a cusp or a root."

  Tobin and Jorgensson laughed at their boss's bad joke. The Vigilantes were silent. Crawford pressed on.

  "Maybe I should just go with Kingston's Killers, eh? 'Cause I'm Kingston, and we're all killers. Simple. Ta the point. And it's got that alliterative ring."

  "So would Kingston's Kute Kitty Kats," JJ suggested, bringing a snicker from Sam.

  "Har, har." Crawford's eyes held no humor. "I think Killers it is. Y'all will be finding out about that soon enough."

  21

  Dori

  Arousian Region, Epsilon Eridani

  Chaos March

  25 February 3062

  The next morning dawned without any sight of the sun. Dark clouds ruled the sky, swirling and jostled by rising winds. Rain lashed against windows, drumming a hard, harsh beat, as the storm gathered strength. The storm, grown from an unusual coagulation of thunderstorm cells, was a big one, a true thunder tempest covering a sizable portion of the continent. Weather forecasters predicted a blow for the record books while ticking off similarities to notable storms of the recent past. Well-experienced in such things, many public facilities in Dori were shutting down to wait it out. MechWarriors and aides gathered in the lady's suite, waiting for word from Minister Jame's staff as to the fate of the day's session.

  The party-like atmosphere that had arisen from the sudden prospect of a day of relief from the tensions of negotiations evaporated when JJ reported a rumor that Duvic forces had made a sneak attack on a Shu target.

  Details were vague, but JJ assured them that word was circulating all over the hotel.

  Lady Shu's attempt to reach her brother and Veck's try at getting through to headquarters were both frustrated by a storm-related communications blackout. The hotel staff assured them that failures in long distance communications were ordinary occurrences during storms of the magnitude of the one they were weathering. Trahn, the closest thing to a commo expert they had, agreed and warned that local commo was going to get worse before it got better.

  "I don't like it." Veck looked worried. "This is too good an opportunity for trouble."

  "Don't be ridiculous, Commander. The Duvics will be having every bit as much trouble as we are." Romano waved her hand at the turbulent sky. "Who could coordinate an attack in this?"

  "They're not attacking here."

  "We do not know for sure that they are attacking anywhere. We cannot jump to conclusions. Just because the sky here is gloomy, we cannot let that cause us to take a pessimistic attitude to the situation."

  "If the Duvics have started a war, we could be in serious trouble. We have hostiles here in Dori. We are out-massed and out-gunned."

  "And we are in the dark." The hotel lights flickered as if to emphasize the lady's words. "Soon we may be so literally."

  That got some nervous chuckles from her staff, but Veck remained grim. "My lady, we—"

  "We must discover just what is really happening, Commander."

  "And if we are at war?"

  "We cannot fight it here. We must get back to County Shu."

  "Then we should leave now."

  "And if it is all a false alarm? Would you like to explain to my brother why we abandoned the peace negotiations? I didn't think so."

  "My l
ady, we must do something."

  "I understand your frustration, Commander. We must continue to determine the truth, any way we can. Meanwhile, you may take whatever precautions you deem necessary, but I do not want you doing anything provocative."

  "Understood." Veck began giving orders. "I want all 'Mechs prepped and ready for fast start. Trahn, I want you in your bird. Stay put, but see what you can pick up. I don't want us getting blindsided."

  Veck went with them to see that the 'Mechs were ready. Once he was satisfied, he sent Kelly, Sam and JJ back to the hotel, while he stayed with Slug in the hope of getting a link with headquarters through the Raven.

  When a soggy Kelly and the others got back to the lady's suite, she was complaining about Minister Jame's "prissy reluctance to get his feet wet." Over warm drinks provided by the staff, they heard about Lady Shu's conversation with the minister. It seemed that Jame wanted to cancel the day's session, something Lady Shu opposed, concerned as she was to "find out what Waterhouse knows about any and all troubling rumors." They had argued, Jame's concerns over propriety and convenience against the lady's pique. Apparently, Jame didn't share the lady's concern over the rumored attack. He had denied hearing any rumors of an attack by Duvic forces, although he'd heard something about a bandit raid at Severagol near the County Shu-Duvic Palatine border, he seemed to think it was just another minor incident. The minister's diffidence had vandalized the lady's attitude and she now sat fuming, given a wide berth by her aides.

  "A bandit raid could just be a cover for the Doofvics," JJ suggested quietly to his lancemates.

  "A concern," Lady Shu remarked, revealing that her hearing was quite good. "Well, Mech Warriors, how valid a concern is it?"

  "Hard to say, my lady." JJ shrugged. "We just don't have enough hard data."

  "Very well then. Perhaps we can get ourselves some data. Trish," she called, "get Minister Waterhouse on the line."

  It took Trish several tries to get through. Apparently local communications were indeed succumbing to the storm. As she handed over the phone, she said, "The static is bad, my lady."