"Underground. As in resistance?" She blinked away her surprise. "Are you really planning that far in advance?"
"We're planning for everything, except for whatever we haven't thought of. Jess, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important, for Achernarand The Republic. We need to work together here. Please."
Jessica laughed, short and sad. "Sharing the glory, Raul?"
He shook his head, then gazed around at the wounded and the dying. "There is no glory, Jess
No romantic adventure. What I have-what we have-is duty. Resident honor, if you want. Whatever the cost, we have to try." He paused, then, "Charal DePriest is dead."
"I know. And I'm sorry, Raul. I know you got on with her. I also heard that Colonel Blaire reprimanded you for abandoning San Marino to the Steel Wolves. Is that true?"
"I know what I'm doing," he told her. He wanted to explain about Janella Lakewood, and his hopes that the Steel Wolves' proximity to River's End might force the Swordsworn to finally commit to a stronger position than before. In the end, though, he could only say, "You'll have to trust me."
Jessica actually looked as if she had expected the request, and surprisingly did not laugh in his face. "What about her?" she asked, nodding at Tassa's sleeping form.
Steeling himself for the reopening of a raw wound, Raul asked, "How soon until we can have her back?"
"Normally, I'd suggest twenty-four hours rest and another twenty-four under observation.
She's lucky to be alive."
He knew that. By all reports and the limited footage he'd seen of the battle for Brightwater, the Steel Wolves had struck with a ferocious assault. Led by Star Colonel Torrent, the "diversionary raid"
Had involved more military forces and generated more casualties than any other action so far on Achernar save the San Marino battle and the Steel Wolves' initial assault against the planet. Tassa had worked with a heavy armor contingent to hold them back, keeping her Ryoken up long after a lesser warrior might have succumbed to the beating she took.
Torrent had already withdrawn from the field, to take command at the San Marino, when Tassa ran into a trio of tactical Jessies and one of Torrent's converted AgroMechs. She accounted for two of their number before falling under a final missile barrage. Her squad had rescued her by driving off the last two JES carriers. It had been a heroic stand and was the very reason why any final defense of Achernar needed Tassa Kay on the line.
"We need her by tomorrow, Jess. I don't know when things are going to start happening, but we can't do without Tassa."
A touch of color blushed high on Jessica's cheeks. "You'll have her back, then," she said coldly. Raul started to speak, to tell her he didn't mean it that way, but she stopped him with a raised hand. "Look. Just tell me what you need and I'll do my part. Whatever else you're about, Raul, I know you've got Achernar foremost in your thoughts. Just don't try to work onus right now. All right?"
He nodded, a couple of short, shallow dips of the head. "All right. I've got to get outside and make similar arrangements with the local salvage crews, but I'll be back later to discuss plans. In the meantime, the Trooper crew knows that the local medical staff will be directing them, so get started on whomever you need to fly out first." He should have left it there, he knew, but he couldn't resist adding, "And Jess?" He waited for her to look up, and the sorrow weighing down her eyes almost made him stop. "It's good to have you with us."
"Yeah."
She gave him a shrug, leaning more toward a nod than a dismissal. But barely. Raul took that and left. It was a start. He hoped it left him something to build on later.
The hardest lessons, he was learning, were not those that came at high cost to himself. They were the lessons that others kept paying on his behalf.
22 - Stage Directions
Achernar Militia Command
Achernar
16 March 3133
Erik Sandoval saw signs of the militia's strain in the little things. A lack of casual traffic on the base. Tired guards in bedraggled uniforms, both at the central post and standing a weary honor guard in front of Colonel Blaire's office. The corridor floor not buffed to a military shine. And Colonel Isaac Blaire, holding himself upright with elbows on the desk, eyes red-rimmed from drink or lack of sleep.
The militia commander looked such a state, in fact, that Erik missed the office's second occupant for several heartbeats. Then- "What is he doing here?" Erik demanded, staring with venomous fury at Raul Ortega.
Ortega had pushed his chair to the inside wall, as far back from the desk as he could conceivably get. He sat extremely still, with arms laid out carefully along both sides and hands gripping the end curve of the armrests. The MechWarrior said nothing in reply. He broke his stony repose only long enough to glance over at Erik, and then cautiously at his commanding officer.
Gesturing Erik to the chair across from his desk, Blaire did not bother to look over at his officer. "He is here because Ah ordered him to be here, should you have any questions."
The colonel's tone, Raul's silence; the two did not appear to be on the best terms. Erik might find a way to use that. "Questions? How about a request for his immediate dismissal?" The young noble turned his chair just enough to be able to watch Ortega out of the corner of one eye. "He abandoned the field, Colonel. Pusillanimous conduct in the face of the enemy."
Now Raul leaned forward. "Said the commander who parked himself a good kilometer behind the fighting."
"That is enough, Captain!" Blaire's bark still had some of its old power.
Erik measured the way Raul stiffened up again, as if turned to stone by the Colonel's basilisk stare. It gave him a moment to compose himself; Raul's contemptuous charge had struck a nerve.
Since Tassa Kay's cutting remarks and his recent reversals on the battlefield, Erik found his temper fraying at the least provocation.
"My position that day had nothing to do with cowardice," Erik said softly, slowly, "and everything to do with setting a strong second line to protect River's End. When the DropShips arrived, my plans shifted and I ordered an immediate counter-thrust, which would have prevented the Steel Wolves from lodging a foothold so close to the capital.You! " he said, stabbing a finger toward Raul.
"You gave it to them."
Raul folded his arms across his chest. "Now it's the Swordsworn facing the brunt of any Steel Wolf attack. And you need us-the militia. I like being on this side of the arrangement. No wonder you hid in Hahnsak for so long."
"Dammit, Ortega." Blaire's outburst cut off Erik's heated response. "You're acting like a peace-spoiledkay - det and you're not making this any easier." With a strained peace imposed between the other two men, the colonel shifted focus and asked, "What about yesterday's raid? Did you suffer anything in the way of major casualties?"
"Two damaged JES carriers and a limping MinerMech Mod." Reminded of the short but brutal engagement forced on his people the day before, Erik felt a second flush of anger work up and outward from the nape of his neck. His voice remained civil, barely, as he outlined what had happened.
"The Steel Wolves weren't making a serious push at River's End. They struck in a pincer movement but with hardly enough forces to penetrate the industrial sector. It was a probe. We made it cost them a Demon, which we captured with no help from the militia I may remind you."
"Ah can try to provide you with anything you might need in the way of parts and supplies."
Another hard glance at his captain. "We've had our own troubles since the spaceport battle."
"I've seen the casualty report," Erik admitted. "What concerns me more is the number of outright defections." Erik searched his memory, drawing up numbers provided to him by Michael Eus.
"Eight infantrymen, six of them with battlesuits. Also a trio of hoverbikes, two APCs, and a pair of conventional VTOLs, all with crews. And a Destroyer, Colonel? How do you let an SM1 slip through your fingers?"
Blaire sat up straighter, as if his pride had been wounded. "How did you hear about th
ose?"
"More to the point," Erik leaned forward, "where have they gone?"
Raul whipped at him with an exasperated laugh. "If they did not go over to you, and you have just basically told us they haven't, then they fled into hiding or went over to Star Colonel Torrent."
Erik's assumption as well, and one that had him sleeping less well every night. "If the Steel Wolves have grown so much in strength, then I expect them to attack soon. One final, all-out push for River's End." He wrapped himself tight in his noble demeanor, remembering that he now had the full weight of Brion Stempresand the planetary governor behind him. "I must now insist, Colonel, that you stand ready to answer my summons, instantly, once Star Colonel Torrent masses for that advance. I believe Legate Stempres has communicated this to you on more than one occasion in the last few days."
"Ah've talked toLay -gate Stempres," Blaire admitted. He tried to sound unconcerned. Failed.
"When we're needed, the militia will be there."
"Not good enough, Colonel. Instant response. I'll have your word on that now, if you don't mind."
The colonel struggled with it. Erik gave the man that much; he was still enough of a Republic man to not go easily into the Swordsworn embrace. But because of that, as well, he would honor his word. "If you call for us, we'll come," he finally granted Erik.
"And I want Raul Ortega dismissed from duty. Now."
That made the upstart MechWarrior sit up and pay attention, mouth gaping open like a landed fish. Dismissed. In effect, dispossessed. MechWarriors dreaded losing their BattleMechs. It was like telling a hawk that it could no longer fly and hunt. Erik knew first-hand, having lost a 'Mech before, how much it hurt. After the half-dozen slights, insults and setbacks he had faced at Raul Ortega's hands since first meeting him as a Customs Officer, Erik reveled in imposing the sentence, slapping the man back into place.
Blaire hedged. "Now that may be a bit hasty, Lord Sandoval. To remove one of our only MechWarriors from the order of battle-seems to me that we're handicapping ourselves." He searched for an argument. "Neither of us wants the Hyperpulse Generator to fall into Steel Wolf hands, after all."
"That no longer concerns me, Colonel Blaire. The Steel Wolves will never be allowed possession of the HPG. After consulting with Governor Haider, my forces have been hard at work rigging spoilsport charges on the antennae superstructure as well as throughout the compound. We've decided to blow the equipment before surrendering it to Torrent's marauders."
Or back to the militia, Erik did not have to say.
For once, Raul Ortega looked speechless. The MechWarrior glanced rapidly between Blaire and Erik, trying to guess which way the colonel would eventually lean. As if the man had any choice.
Blaire slumped in defeat. "Raul, you're sidelined." He saw the expected outburst coming, and headed it off with a stronger argument. "Ah should have done it days ago, and you know it. Tassa Kay can take over the Legionnaire until and unless her Ryoken is repaired to adequate function. After that, well, Ah'm certain that Lord Sandoval has ideas for a replacement."
"Captain Norgales," Erik said at once. "Legate Stempres' aide." He had wanted to claim the Legionnaire outright and invest Norgales in it, but had not figured on Tassa Kay's Ryoken being so badly damaged.
And since the woman did not have the good graces to die during the assault on the Brightwater facility, Erik would be happy to see her pushed in front of the blades once more.
"Colonel," Raul began, then hesitated. "Sir, I request assignment to an IndustrialMech conversion. I can still pilot."
"We have men who are better trained for those machines, Raul, and you know it. You'll have to wait for another BattleMech. I think you know what those chances are."
Another BattleMech arriving on Achernar, with or without a pilot? Erik counted the odds somewhere past the chances of the sun not rising tomorrow. He stood. "I'm so glad to see that we are at an accord, Colonel. With the militia's help, we'll keep Achernar free of Kal Radick's clutches yet."
He nodded a dismissal to the militia commander. "Colonel Blaire."
To Raul he smiled thinly. "Agent Ortega," he said in leaving, reducing Raul in rank to his original position as a Customs Officer. Raul's surprised start told him the arrow had gone deep, as Erik had intended.
Everything, he decided, was going to go as he intended. Now, with the militia. Soon, with Star Colonel Torrent. And, eventually, with the position and honors his uncle would bestow on him. Erik was not about to let anything stand in his way.
Especially Raul Ortega.
23 - Final Decisions
Steel Wolf DropShip Lupus
Achernar
17 March 3133
The tactical planning room of the DropShip Lupus was an outboard space, strangely shaped as it nestled up against the Overlord's curved hull. Rather like a trapezoid, with a concave, sloping base.
Utilities covered one of the inside bulkheads, caught between decks in a frozen cascade of pipes, electrical conduit and wave guides. The other held a large, darkened monitor and a computer terminal.
The trapezoid's top had been punched through with one vent for warm, sterilized air, one for recirc, and the only door in or out.
Star Colonel Torrent was always the last to arrive. He stepped through the door at precisely eight a.m. local time, shut and locked the door behind him. Any officer who did not deign to be present found themselves not only shut out of the room, but would be fighting-literally-for their job before the afternoon was over.
A crescent-shaped metal table stood bolted into the center of the room with a curved bench around the outside and a single, swiveling seat positioned on the crescent's inside. A small holographic emitter rose up in the table's center, currently displaying a three-dimensional model of the local HPG station. Torrent took a roll call by eye, then stood over the empty seat with large hands resting on its high back.
"Today," he asked the trio of senior officers, "or tomorrow?"
No one jumped to give him the bad news, and so he knew long before Star Captain Demos spoke up. "Tomorrow," she said. She reached up to tug at a long curl of her shiny, black hair, what Nikola herself would have called a 'tell.' The armor commander was beginning to feel the pressure.
"My technicians are still rebuilding the engines on two hovercraft, hoping to replace the Demon we lost the other day. Our Condor drivers could use the extra time on simulators, as well, and the Elementals are still too slow in dismantling so many charges."
A childish effort on Erik Sandoval's part, Torrent thought. Breaking the toys he cannot play with. The Star Colonel's people would strip away enough of the spoilsport demolitions that any damage would be easily repaired.
He glanced at the next officer in line, but Mech Warrior Franzia also demurred. Two of his IndustrialMech pilots had light injuries that could use the extra day of rest.
"Xera?" Torrent turned back to his senior pilot.
The raven-haired warrior never hesitated. "My warriors will be ready to go when you command it, Star Colonel."
What few warriors she had left. The toll on aerospace was always highest on extended missions such as these. Taking the San Marino had cost the Steel Wolves two good pilots and two locally irreplaceable fightercraft. A double-flight of four Jagatai was all that remained.
Torrent gripped the chair back with frustration, wanting to tear it out of its floor-mounted socket. Then he relaxed, setting aside his bloodlust by sheer force of will. He spun the chair around, took his seat, and then swiveled back to face his advisors.
"Tomorrow," he said. "Dusk. I want the best possible conditions for our air support. I will make a challenge to Erik Sandoval, and to the people of River's End, right after our meeting. No one will ever say that my Steel Wolves did not conduct themselves with due honor. Now," he ordered Franzia, "tell me about the militia."
The other MechWarrior was slight of build and had a tendency to stutter when extremely nervous. He was neither trueborn nor even of Clan Wolf origins, but
one of the Republic freeborn who had come to Kal Radick and petitioned for acceptance. On the surface, he was a poor replacement to Star Commander Yulri as one of Torrent's planning staff. But the man was a gifted MechWarrior, no doubt about that. It was the one mitigating fact in his favor.
"I-I've . . . Ihave been going over the reports, Star Colonel. The militia has reported high casualties from the B-Brightwater diversionary assault and from our taking the San Marino. There are also rumors that they've -they have -suffered several d-d-desertions in the past week."
At least the man tried to correct his lazy grammar. Torrent tapped a thick finger against his jaw
"Mech Warrior Franzia, you say 'reports and rumors' as if you do not believe them."
Franzia slid out from his place at the end of the bench, typed rapidly into the nearby computer terminal. The staccato fire of the keyboard reminded Torrent that the man had been a computer slave not so long ago. An accountant! And now he commanded a BattleMech.
"I do not, Star Colonel." Columns of numbers filled the wall monitor. "The casualty reports are extremely high compared to their survival rates in previous engagements, by a factor of seven-point- five to one. And these desertions? By all accounts, they have led to no defections, which I find interesting. A dozen men and women of shaky allegiance to the Republic, and not one has contacted us? Statistically speaking, that is highly unlikely."
Torrent noted the other man's confidence once he slipped into the realm of numbers. Franzia lost his stutter and all indications of doubt. And in Torrent's presence, too. That, more than anything, convinced the Star Colonel.
"What about the Swordsworn?" Nikola asked. "Perhaps the defectors went over to them."
Franzia nodded, paused as if confused, then shook his head. "Except that you yourself assured me, Star Captain, that no vehicles could move into River's End without our being aware of it. Where did the APCs go? Why haven't we seen Cavalier suits among the Swordsworn infantry posts?" He caught the contraction too late. "Excuse m-my base language. The militia may have suffered some losses, but I believe they are also using this to hide forces from the Swordsworn as well as us."
BattleTech : Mechwarrior - Dark Age 02 - A Call to Arms (2003) Page 23