Vlad brought his hands together, pressing them palm to palm at the level of his breastbone. "They will be coming here."
Ian Hawker, the tow-headed Khan of the Diamond Sharks, removed his dorsal-finned helmet. "Impossible! They would not dare!"
"No?" Vlad looked up at Marthe Pryde. "You have met this Victor Davion. Would he dare?"
Marthe's laugh came low and sinister. "Would Victor Davion dare come here? He is already on his way, of this I am certain. On Coventry he and the Precentor Martial of ComStar knew enough of us and our culture to use that knowledge to obtain their objectives. What the ilKhan has reminded us of is something they clearly know about our ways, and something they are using against us."
Hawker frowned impatiently. "What are you prattling on about, Pryde?"
"Something I would think was obvious to even someone such as yourself, Khan Hawker. Our way insulates us from the horrors of war. If my unit is bid away, I have very little fear that I will be forced to act in a particular battle. And, even if I die, I know my genetic legacy will live on beyond me. We have created an artificial box outside which warfare cannot touch us. The Star League leaders know that, and the action on Huntress was clearly designed to let us know that we are no longer safe in that way."
Asa Taney looked stricken. "He cannot be coming here to do to Strana Mechty what he did to Huntress."
Vlad laughed. "Calm yourself, Ice Hellion. There are those who will protect you."
"I don't need your protection, Wolf."
"Then you will fight, if he comes?" Vlad slowly shook his head. "Your blood is up? Remember, then, before you pledge yourself to something that will get you killed, Victor Davion did not destroy Huntress, he sent subordinates to do so. He sent his inferiors to send us a message. When he comes here, he will have a different message to send. They have defeated one of us their way on Huntress. When they come here, as Khan Pryde has indicated, they will use our ways against us to defeat us. And this will be a mistake."
Vlad let a smile slowly spread across his face. "We came to their world of Tukayyid and many of us knew defeat there. They now come to our world, and here they will know defeat" His voice rose to fill the room as he finished, and he felt the pride and enthusiasm of many of the other Khans rise with it. Those who have not fought the Inner Sphere hunger for engagement. Those who have fought in the Inner Sphere may have already seen this day in their worst nightmares.
Khan Karianna Schmitt of the Blood Spirits jammed a fist down on her desk. Decidedly tall for a MechWarrior, her blond hair was long enough to hang down over the shoulders of her red jumpsuit and cloak. "We will defeat this so-called Star League. I wonder, though, if our current ilKhan has the stomach for the fight. Perhaps we should depose him and elect Khan Wolf in his place."
"No!"
Vlad and Osis exchanged surprised glances as their hot denials of that suggestion meshed perfectly. Vlad got pure venom in Osis' hot glare, and met it with ice of his own. Vlad broke eye contact first, then folded his arms over his chest. "I will not be a party to such a move. A Smoke Jaguar started the crusade against the Inner Sphere. It is up to a Smoke Jaguar to sustain it, or let it die. If there is to be a new crusade, then there will be the time to choose a new ilKhan."
Osis posted both hands to his desktop and leaned forward heavily. "It is as Khan Ward has said. Now is not the time to make another choice. We will be faced with a severe test. I have seen what they did to Huntress, and I will not see that be done here. We must preserve our honor, our culture, our nature. I can and will preserve us, our ways."
Or the in the attempt. Vlad kept his face impassive. "Will we oppose them as they are inbound, ilKhan, or will we grant them safcon?"
Osis straightened up and lifted his chin. "We were granted safcon at Tukayyid. Can we offer them less?"
Taney, his eyes eager and bright, threw his arms wide. "We must not allow them to land without opposition. Our pilots will sweep them from the skies." a light lilt ran through Marthe Pryde's voice. "That would be a first, Khan Taney. Superior we might be on the ground, but our aeropilots have always been evenly matched against theirs?
"You have not had Ice Hellions flying for you, Khan Pryde, quineg?"
"Neg, Khan Taney, but your pilots have never impressed me." Marthe's comment brought a ripple of laughter from the other Khans. "No, our victories have come on the ground, To engage them in space and the atmosphere allows them to destroy our aerospace assets without getting us a shot at their ground forces."
Khan Schmitt let a smile break the icy composure of her face. "Let them come here. Those of us who have not faced them before will teach them the lesson the rest of you failed to impart"
"Bold words from those who have not yet won the right to face the Star League." Vlad gave her a withering stare.
The Blood Spirit Khan affected not to notice, and instead slashed back quickly. "Just listening to you condescend earns me that right, Khan Wolf. If we most bid or fight to confirm this right, we shall. If they come here to defeat us, they must defeat all of us." a low growl rumbled from Lincoln Osis' throat. "Defeat all of us, save the traitor Clan. What say you, Nova Cats? Will you fight for the Clans?"
The ancient Khan of the Nova Cats, Severen Leroux and Lucien Cams, slowly doffed their helmets. Countless wrinkles seamed their leathery faces, sending a shiver through Vlad as he looked at the two old men. In any other Clan they would have long since retired and had the good grace to die, but among the Nova Cats their longevity and wisdom at interpreting signs and portents had kept them in place. And those portents led them to believe this new Star League was the fulfillment of true Clan goals, so their troops went over with scant little fighting to become part of the new force.
Leroux spoke, his voice surprisingly strong despite his age. "Be advised, ilKhan, that the casual use of the term 'traitor' is a trap in which you yourself could be caught. Our calling has ever been to preserve the ideals of the Star League that gave us birth. In recent times this has been reinterpreted to mean we should return to the Inner Sphere to oust the unworthy and install ourselves in their place, to recreate the Star League. This we have done, though we are not the Star League. Our actions have always been and are now compatible with the goals of the Clans."
"How can you say that when your people preyed upon mine?"
"Did they?" Leroux's eyes hardened. "Those troops who fought against you were conquered, made bondsmen, and then allowed to become warriors again. We have all converted captured troops to our own use in that manner. As Khan Pryde noted, the Star League knows well our ways and uses them against us."
Leroux held up a gnarled hand to calm Osis and the other Khans. "Your core question, however, is not one I can answer here and now. You want to know if we will fight for Strana Mechty and to preserve our way of life. Of course we will."
Osis frowned. "You have just answered the question you said you could not."
"Ah, but I did not say if we would fight for or against the Clans to do so." Leroux looked around at the other Khans. "The Star League is come to oppose us. The question is not whether we can stand against them, but if we should stand against them."
Vlad shook his head adamantly. "You are wrong, Khan Nova Cat. For you there is a question, but there is none for me. Not only can we stand against them, we must stand against them. The only noble remnants of the Star League that exist are the Clans. We were born of the last true members of the Star League, the last faithful members of it. For us to allow this usurper and pretender to destroy us only completes the destruction of the Star League that began so long ago.
"So, when Victor Davion arrives, he will find opposition, and anyone who is true to our mission will stand there beside me to fight him."
4
DropShip Barbarossa
Inbound, Strom Mechty
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Space
12 April 3060
The Elemental's throw tossed Victor halfway across the cargo hold. Victor twisted enough in the air to land on
his left shoulder and roll, but he was going too fast to get to his feet. Kai Allard-Liao caught him before he could slam into a bulkhead, steadied him, then gave him a little shove out toward the center of the floor.
"C'mon, Victor, she's just a girl."
Victor spitted his friend with an irritated glance. "Woman, and quite a woman at that."
The Elemental waited in the center of the floor, her feet spread wide apart, her knees bent, her hands out and ready to grapple with him. Tiaiet Nevversan wore a sleeveless, khaki-colored leotard only a shade or two lighter than her skin. Her brown hair had been shaved from her head except at the back, where it hung in an abbreviated queue woven with a red cord.
Her light blue eyes seemed at odds with features that bespoke Terran African ancestry, yet reflected the strength of life in that body. as Victor circled in toward her, he knew he was utterly and completely insane. She towered over him by fifty-five centimeters and had at least forty-five kilos on him. Her reach outstripped his, and she'd been trained since birth in hand-to-hand combat. While Victor had spent months honing his fighting skills on the long journey to Huntress, there was no way he could match hers. And she's even seven years younger than me.
He darted toward her, ducked beneath the swipe of a huge paw, and spun on his left foot. He hooked his right foot behind her right knee, intending to topple her, but he might as well have hooked his foot behind the leg of a BattleMech because she wasn't going anywhere.
Steely hands gripped the back of his neck and spun him off to his left. He whirled and rolled, then slid across the floor to Hohiro Kurita's feet. Victor sat there for a moment, then shook his head. "If this is the sort of fun you guys have planned for me on my thirtieth birthday, here, I don't want to be around you for my fortieth."
Hohiro helped him back to his feet. "Kai and I decided to do this to you so you'd have a chance at seeing your fortieth birthday. Now concentrate and go again."
With friends like these.
Victor balled his fists and raised them, then watched Tiaret straighten up and raise her fists. She cocked her right hand back by her shoulder, then slowly waved Victor in with her left hand. "Come, Prince Victor. I will show you why many warriors are retired by your age."
Victor groaned. "On my way." Clad in sparring boots, shorts, and a baggy sleeveless sweatshirt, Victor felt close to naked as he drew near her. Fighting the Clans from inside a BattleMech is definitely less painful than this is likely to be.
He stopped just outside her range and, remembering Hohiro's comment, took a second to focus himself.
Roughly the same second Tiaret chose to strike.
Victor slipped his head to the left as her left-hand jab sailed in at his head. In a nanosecond he saw her right fist coming in on a looping arc designed to mash his forehead into the back of his brainpan. Without thinking he began to twist to his left, and lashed out with his right hand. It locked over her right wrist and managed to steer her fist a fraction wide. The fact that he was turning within the circle of her arms took his head fully out of harm's way.
Pivoting on his right foot to make the turn, he extended his left leg in a rear kick that caught Tiaret in the stomach. It felt like kicking ferro-fibrous armor, but he got a gasp out of her. She spun away, ripping her wrist from his grasp. Victor felt good for an instant about having scored on her, then realized he couldn't see her and hadn't heard her hit the ground.
Her left leg scythed across his ankles and cut his legs from under him. Victor pitched to the floor and caught himself on his hands, but before he could leap up, she grabbed him by the waist and flipped him onto his back. She dropped onto his stomach, straddling him, then smiled down at him as her hands pinned his wrists to the floor.
"Not bad, Prince Victor, but not very good." A droplet of sweat hung on the tip of her nose, then splashed down on his forehead.
Victor frowned. "I couldn't dislodge you with pentaglycerine charges, could I?"
She shook her head, spraying a little more sweat over him. "And my sire you could not dislodge with atomic charges." Tiaret leaned back, then rose to her feet and dragged Victor up with her. "Remember that, please."
Victor nodded, wondering at the softness of her tone at the last. Tiaret Nevversan had led a Point of Elementals to take refuge in the sewers of Lootera. With them had gone a whole sibko of children barely ten years old—nearly fifty of them.
The Elementals had feared the youngsters would be slain in the Star League's attempt to destroy everything that was Smoke Jaguar, and had refused to surrender unless given assurances this would not happen by the commander of the Star League force. against the wishes of the task force leadership, Victor had met with her and assured her the children were safe. As the kids emerged from the sewers, the Elementals noted that five of them were missing. Victor immediately organized a search party and hunted for them along with Tiaret. When they were finally found, it was in a space far too small for her to fit through, so Victor had gone in and helped usher them out. Once on the surface again, she had surrendered to him. Victor instantly made her a bondswoman and freed her, welcoming her into the Star League force.
It was then he learned that she was Lincoln Osis' biological daughter. She knew little of her genefather in a personal sense because of the way the sibkos worked. In accord with the wishes of the various bloodname houses, Clan scientists combined sperm and ova in their laboratories to create the ultimate warriors. Osis and Nevversan blood mixed well in Tiaret, allowing her to win a bloodname while still a Star Captain.
Had the Smoke Jaguars been allowed to continue, she would have become a Khan. "I will remember this lesson, Tiaret. I'll remember it well."
The Precentor Martial, who had been standing back from the exercise area, now strode forward. He wore the white robe of ComStar, having chosen for some reason to abandon the military-style jumpsuit he usually favored. He tossed both Tiaret and Victor thick towels. "So, then, Victor, you won't be tempted to join Lincoln Osis in a Circle of Equals?"
Victor ran the towel over his face, giving himself a moment to think before answering. "As Tiaret has so easily demonstrated, I'm not a suitable match for an unarmed Elemental, but we've got reports that Lincoln Osis was badly wounded.
He might challenge me as a matter of bravado, and my refusal to engage a man in so weakened a state could be used as a mark of my cowardice."
Kai levered himself away from the bulkhead. "But your willingness to face and take advantage of so obviously crippled a man could be taken as even worse."
"Good point, Kai."'
The Precentor Martial raised a finger. "Success or failure in a personal fight with Lincoln Osis would be immaterial. His power base has been destroyed. While we will end up dealing with him because he is the ilKhan, our objective is to show the rest of the Clans that they cannot continue their fight against us." He glanced at Tiaret. "Forgive me, but your father's defeat and death are now a sidelight to our battle on Strana Mechty."
Tiaret shrugged. "Though ilKhan, Lincoln Osis acted as if he were still a Smoke Jaguar Khan. In doing so he did not serve the Clans or the Smoke Jaguars. We all fought according to our orders, and we are not pleased with our defeat, but without proper leadership, there was little chance of a victory."
The Prince stripped off his soaking sweatshirt and toweled down, then settled the towel over his right shoulder. The tails on both sides hid the scars from the sword-wounds he'd taken on Luthien. That seems so long ago, so far away. "Well, inbound as we are, the Clans know we're coming. We have, what, three days to deceleration turn-around? We won't pick up any aerospace fighter contact before then, right?" anastasius Focht shook his head. "Unlikely. Since we came in at the sun's zenith jump point, there's no place for fighters to be hiding between here and Strana Mechty itself. If we're going to meet resistance, it will be closer in."
Jerry Cranston popped in through the hold's hatchway. "Highness, we've just had radio contact with Strana Mechty— data only, no voice or holo. Message came in over Mar
tha Pryde's signature. In the name of the Grand Council of Khans, out of respect for ComStar's largesse at Tukayyid, we have been granted safcon. They will allow us to land uncontested. They want to meet with you in six days to discuss the bidding for the battle of Strana Mechty."
Victor threw back his head and barked a quick laugh. Smiling, he looked at his companions. "Now, that, gentlemen and lady, is a birthday present."
Kerensky Sports Centre
Strana Mechty
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Space
18 April 3060
Victor's hovercar slowly settled to the ground and a shiver ran through him. Air hissed as the gull-wing door slid up, but before he could even unfasten his restraining harness, Tiaret eclipsed the opening and was out the door. That she'd appointed herself Victor's bodyguard had been a matter of concern to some of the other commanders, but the Precentor Martial convinced them that her presence would be of enormous value, especially in the negotiations they were entering into this morning.
Victor slowly exhaled, then followed Focht and Redburn out of the hovercar. Green grassy fields stretched out before him and not a cloud appeared in the sky. Far to the south he saw the black outline of mountains that trapped purple light between their peaks, but elsewhere the dawning sun had risen enough to brighten everything he saw.
Over a dozen pavilions, large and small, dotted the fields in front of him. They varied in color and design, but all appeared muted and utilitarian, despite the Clan pennants flying from their highest points. Some of the crests he recognized: Wolf, Jade Falcon, Ghost Bear. Try as he might, though, the only sign of the Smoke Jaguars he could see was on a smaller tent closest to him, and that flew beneath a six-star pennant he assumed to be the insignia of the ilKhan.
Prince of Havoc Page 3