Warrior: En Garde (The Warrior Trilogy, Book One): BattleTech Legends, #57

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Quintus cleared his throat quietly. “Forgive me, my Prince. I know the message is vile, but it is not out of line with the usual drivel MechWarriors spout after their battles.”

  Hanse nodded slowly. “Justin has killed six pilots now?”

  Quintus nodded. “All from the Federated Suns. Granted, they were scum, and we are well rid of them.”

  Gruizot waggled his finger and perched himself on the edge of his seat. “But they were our nationals, Quintus.”

  Hanse saw Quintus frown impatiently at Gruizot, and spoke up quickly. “I fear Baron Gruizot is correct. We cannot have our nationals murdered just because they are from the Federated Suns. Could we have one of our agents terminate him?”

  Quintus swallowed hard. “There is more, Your Highness, and it will answer your question.” Hanse nodded as he continued. “According to a debriefing and report directly from our agent closest to Justin, it has been learned that Gray Noton was the pilot who wounded Justin on Kittery. She overheard Noton say something that indicated he was present at the battle. So present was he that our agent believes that Noton was piloting a Rifleman on Kittery.”

  Hanse’s eyes narrowed. “I always thought an UrbanMech was a poor choice to ambush a Stinger company…”

  Gruizot nodded emphatically. “My sentiments exactly, Your Highness.”

  Quintus nodded at the Baron. “Following the report from our agent, I had Analysis run a check on Gray Noton. The preliminary workup places him off Solaris within a window that would allow him to be on Kittery. Furthermore, I had them run a check on Justin’s story concerning the battle against Noton’s available battles. Not only is Noton good, but he used a Rifleman almost exclusively. On several occasions, he battled groups of Stingers using the tactic exactly as Justin described.”

  Hanse nodded slowly. “Well, well… Let us recall your son. I will pardon him—a big public ceremony—and then I’ll break Count Vitios.”

  Baron Gruizot looked horrified, but Quintus Allard did not allow him to comment. “I’m afraid Justin would not return for all the K-F drives in the Inner Sphere.”

  Gruizot frowned. “You say he’s innocent, yet he wouldn’t want to return?”

  Hanse suppressed a smile. “Yes, Quintus. Explain yourself. This time, you’re even losing me.”

  Quintus exhaled loudly. “After our agent made her report on Noton, she was ambushed. Noton had tumbled onto her activities some time before, but had kept quiet. I believe he realized that she’d reported his slip of the tongue, and had to get rid of her before she could let Justin in on it, too.”

  Hanse nodded. “Noton exposed her as our agent and killed her…”

  Gruizot sniffed. “Pity to lose—”

  “No, Your Highness, she was not killed.” Quintus fished a small sheet of paper from a pocket. “She was about to tell Justin what Noton had done to him, but Justin cut her off with a slap.” Quintus raised his left hand and the Prince winced. “The blow broke her jaw. One of Noton’s men meant to shoot her, but Justin stopped him. He gave her the following message for us both.

  “‘You have driven me from you, yet you seek to maintain your hold on me. I am not yours. I have never been yours. I will never be yours. Spare me your lies and plots and false information. You refused to call me friend. Now know me to be your worst enemy.’”

  “Damn his insolence!” Hanse slammed his palm against the desk. “Every time we hope to offer him our hand in friendship, he makes it impossible.” He stared at his minister. “Have we other agents in place to kill him?”

  Quintus hesitated, then shook his head. “No. He has made inroads into the tongs in Cathay. He is the Capellan champion on Solaris, and many watch out for him. He’s moved from the villa into Cathay itself. We cannot touch him there.”

  Hanse growled in frustration. “Who will he fight next?”

  “He wants Philip Capet,” Quintus said, “but Capet may not accept Justin’s challenge. Capet fights in the Open Class, but Justin’s modified Centurion is too small for that class. Capet is not a total fool. He is not likely to leap at a chance to fight Justin.”

  Hanse smiled. “Send a message, Priority Alpha, via ComStar. It goes to Philip Capet. Tell him this: if he delivers the head of Justin Xiang, I will buy him his own ’Mech regiment and give him a world.”

  “Brilliant planning, my Prince. Simply brilliant,” cooed Baron Gruizot.

  Hanse never heard the baron’s words of praise. He saw Quintus hesitate, then nod reluctantly. The fire slowly died in Hanse’s eyes. “Forgive me, Quintus, for passing that order through you. I know Justin is your son, and this cannot be easy.”

  Quintus shook his head. “I helped give him life, and I hoped he would serve House Davion as I have.” Quintus glanced toward the dark holovid screen. “If he had not betrayed us before, he has done so now. As you said that day, I no longer have a son named Justin.”

  Hanse nodded in agreement. “What of our agent on Solaris?”

  The MIIO minister shook his head. “She has been exposed. Because of Noton’s ties, I would guess that her identity is known to all our enemies.”

  Hanse paused for a second, then nodded slowly. “Recall her to New Avalon. I have another duty for her to perform. Let me know when she returns.”

  “Yes, Highness.”

  “Is there anything else, Quintus?”

  The minister managed a weak smile. “I do have some good news.”

  Hanse raised one eyebrow. “Does it balance the bad?”

  Quintus nodded. “I think so. The Silver Eagle left Tharkad on the twenty-sixth of April. It should enter Federated Suns space at Fomalhaut on or about the twentieth of this month. We expect it to arrive on New Avalon by the middle of June.”

  Gruizot, whose ears had pricked up at the mention of a ship from the Lyran Commonwealth, frowned. “Why the interest in a commercial liner?”

  Quintus looked at the baron quizzically. “Didn’t you know? Leftenant Andrew Redburn is returning on that ship. I thought that certainly you would have monitored the travels of the Capellan March’s newest hero.”

  Gruizot stammered nervously. “Well, you know, so many duties…”

  Quintus nodded. “Indeed.”

  “This is welcome news,” Hanse said, smiling broadly. “It does indeed balance the bad.”

  Chapter 37

  SKYE

  ISLE OF SKYE

  LYRAN COMMONWEALTH

  5 MAY 3027

  Andrew Redburn held out Joana Barker’s chair for her as they joined Hauptmann Erik Mahler (Ret.) and his wife Hilda at their table. Mahler stood until Joana had taken her seat, then waved Andrew to his chair. “I have looked forward to this meal since I saw the schedule this morning.” Mahler glanced up at the balcony where most of the celebrities took their meals. “I could hardly believe you would be dining with the untermensch.”

  Andrew smiled broadly. “Well, Hauptmann, you must know well from your own days in the harness that no MechWarrior could resist the charms of your wife and Joana here.”

  The gray-haired MechWarrior smiled and laid a hand over that of his blushing wife. “True enough, Leftenant.” Mahler gave Andrew the wine list. “You will share some wine with us? And you, Ms. Barker? We tried the white from Nekkar last evening, and found it quite satisfactory.”

  Joana nodded her agreement, while Andrew said with a smile, “I agree, but only if we order two bottles and apply the cost to my bill. Consider it a gift of friendship from Prince Hanse Davion.”

  Mahler clapped his hands. “Done.”

  Joana shot Andrew a sidelong glance. “Generous with your leader’s money, aren’t you?”

  Andrew unfolded his cloth napkin and spread it over his lap. “Indeed, Joana, did you not know that Prince Hanse Davion is a confirmed bachelor with no wife to spend all the Davion money for him?” He coughed lightly into his right fist. “Besides, the Prince shares ’Mech technology with the Lyran Commonwealth. Could he fault me for sharing wine with the three of you?”


  Hilda smiled and toyed with her long braid of white-blond hair. “We appreciate the gesture, Leftenant, and we have some love for your leader. We think, as do most Lyrans—” she looked to Joana, who gave an approving nod, “—that the accords signed by the Archon and your Prince will mean good things to both our nations.”

  “Thank you. I share your hope for a prosperous and peaceful future.”

  The waiter arrived to serve the meals, while the wine steward poured a small amount of wine into Andrew’s glass. After Andrew declared the vintage to be excellent, the steward also filled his companions’ glasses. The dinner conversation wound its way pleasantly but lightly through the amusing chatter of strangers getting to know one another, but took a turn toward the serious as the waiter cleared the plates to serve brandy.

  Mahler frowned as he stared into the golden liquid in his snifter. “As I recall, Leftenant, you were on Kittery. What do you think of this Justin Xiang?”

  Andrew stiffened. “Justin Allard was my commander. I knew the man and liked him very much.”

  “Ja, but is he not a traitor?”

  Andrew frowned. “Forgive me, Hauptmann Mahler, but I do not think so. I was present at that trial and it was more like a witch-hunt sponsored by Michael Hasek-Davion. It was a travesty, not a fair trial.”

  Mahler pursed his lips thoughtfully. “You say Allard’s not a traitor, but what about his tirades against the Federated Suns? He has singlehandedly eliminated almost every Fed fighter on Solaris. It is nothing short of a vendetta, one even a Draconian might be proud of.”

  Andrew carefully folded his napkin and set it down on the table. “I can understand Justin’s anger and resentment. I can understand how a true MechWarrior might hate those sham warriors on the Game World, and I can see how he could easily end up killing every one he faces…”

  Joana leaned forward. “Forgive me, Andrew, but I do not think Hauptmann Mahler was impugning Xiang’s skill as a MechWarrior. Even here in the Commonwealth, we saw holovids of his outburst in the courtroom. Hanse Davion offered him life. He even agreed that the execrable trial should never have been held. He directed that the verdict be ‘innocent,’ and it should all have ended right there.”

  Andrew’s nostrils flared. “Excuse me, Ms. Barker, but I would not expect you, a teacher, to understand what it is to be a MechWarrior.”

  He turned quickly to Mahler. “You, sir, retired after years of valiant service. How would you have taken to being a desk-jockey for the rest of your career? How would you have taken to being known as ‘the one Hanse Davion saved from justice?’ Could you have tolerated living with the doubt you’d surely see in people’s eyes, or with the knowledge that the leader you loved and served so well did not believe in you?”

  Mahler shook his head, but Joana was not satisfied. “If Xiang loved his leader so much, how could he vilify him? In the ship’s holovid theater, I saw Xiang’s most recent battle and heard his remarks about Hanse Davion. The man spews pure venom. If there ever was any love in him for his Prince, it has long since died.”

  Andrew stood abruptly. “If it died, Ms. Barker, it died on a political altar. I hope that no one—be they Archon or Periphery bandit king—believes that he has the right to do that to another human.”

  He bowed his head to the Mahlers. “If you will excuse me…”

  Chapter 38

  SOLARIS VII

  RAHNESHIR

  LYRAN COMMONWEALTH

  5 MAY 3027

  Tsen Shang cautiously pushed open the door to Gray Noton’s office. He kept his right hand parallel to the floor and pressed against his stomach. Shang had earlier applied neurotoxin to the last three razor-sharp fingernails of each hand, and the weak light from Noton’s office reflected off the gold leaf also applied to the nails.

  Shang closed the door and latched it. He quickly studied the file room, but touched nothing. It was much as he recalled it. Blowing a thin layer of dust from a stack of papers, he satisfied himself that nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Nothing but Noton’s failure to greet me.

  The Maskirovka agent half-crouched as he moved across the storeroom like a shadow. Padding his way down the short hallway to Noton’s office, he caught his first glimpse of the former MechWarrior. At that, he straightened up and walked boldly into the room.

  Noton sat at his desk with his feet up and his head resting chin on chest as though he’d just fallen asleep. Shang pressed one finger to Noton’s carotid artery, but the lack of a pulse and the slight coolness of the flesh confirmed what his eyes had told him. Gray Noton was dead.

  Shang grabbed Noton’s chin between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand. He tipped the head up, but the moment he moved it, Noton’s head slumped unceremoniously over onto his right shoulder. Hmmm, neck’s broken. Shang eyed the thickness of the dead man’s bull neck. Hard blow. Well-placed.

  Shang turned his attention to the desk. He searched its clutter of files and papers, but found nothing of interest. Then he slipped behind the body to get at the shelves built over the desk. Reaching up, he pulled down a trophy that Noton had won in Marik’s Factory years before.

  Damn! So he found this, too. Shang traced the melted crescent where someone had expertly carved the lock from Noton’s wall safe with a laser. Shang swung the round door open, and the cylindrical safe yawned like an empty mouth. The Maskirovka agent shook his head.

  He stared down at Noton’s body. What did you do, Gray, to set him off? Shang shrugged. Even if you could speak, I doubt that you could have answered that question. So now I must learn the answer, and if necessary, avenge you.

  From a shadowed doorway across the street, Justin watched Tsen Shang leave Noton’s office. He waited until Shang had climbed into his Feicui model aircar and passed down the road before moving from his hiding place into the dark alley. As the car vanished around a corner, Justin drew in a deep breath and exhaled it slowly.

  Crouching down, Justin once again turned his attention to the lockbox he had removed from Noton’s safe. He set it down on the alley floor, then curled the fingers of his metal left hand into a fist. With one quick blow, he shattered the lock. Justin tugged the latch open and whistled at the contents. “Noton, you were full of surprises, weren’t you?”

  Nestled on a bed of crisp C-bills were various traveling papers issued to a half-dozen individuals who all shared Gray Noton’s description, picture, and thumbprint. He also found two small books: one with names and addresses, and the other in a code. Not a tough code, but it will take time. Looks like a diary of his business transactions.

  Justin turned the left pocket of his coat inside out and carefully tore the fabric apart at the seam. He transferred money and documents through the hole and stashed them in the coat’s lining. Finally, he pulled a ring of magkeys from the box. He stuffed them into his trouser pocket and tossed the strongbox back amid the debris strewn behind him.

  Justin picked up and flipped open the folder Noton had showed him. In the dusky half-light, he studied the passenger list for the Silver Eagle, smiling unconsciously at the sight of Leftenant Andrew Redburn’s name. After closing the file, he visually guided his left hand to the fire capsule worked into the folder itself. He concentrated and crushed the lump flat. Smoke drifted up from beneath his synthetic thumb, then flames licked at his metal hand. Justin tossed the folder aside and watched it burn. When the flames died, he smashed the ashes with one foot and scattered them with a light kick.

  For your faith in me, Andrew, I deny this file to the Maskirovka. It is all I can do. Now you’re on your own. Good luck, my friend.

  Chapter 39

  SUMMER

  ISLE OF SKYE

  LYRAN COMMONWEALTH

  6 MAY 3027

  “Just a second!” Melissa Steiner pressed the other brown contact against her right eye, then turned away from the mirror. She opened the hatch to her room, then tried to shut it almost as quickly when she saw who it was. “What do you want?”

  Blushing mightily, Andre
w Redburn looked down at his shoes. “A truce. A truce—and to apologize.”

  Melissa stepped back and allowed Andrew to enter the room. “Please, Leftenant, be seated.” Her frosty tone mocked the invitation of her words. The door clicked shut behind the MechWarrior.

  Melissa pointed to a small refrigerator. “May I offer you something?”

  Andrew shook his head. “No, thank you.” Looking up, he met her hard stare. “I realize that you did not like what I said last night, and I apologize for any embarrassment I caused by walking out. I have already apologized to the Mahlers.”

  Melissa snorted and narrowed her eyes. “I’m glad to see that you have some manners, Leftenant!” Her tone scourged him with his rank, and he recoiled unconsciously. “I assume that Federated Suns officers do not become irredeemably insolent until they reach their captaincy.”

  Muscles bunched at Andrew’s jaws. “Yes, I suppose I have that coming, but I don’t like the veiled suggestion that I will never have my chance at a captaincy, Ms. Barker. You may think that I treated you in a manner not appropriate to your station, and you may resent it, but I’ll not be punished for it.”

  He threw his hands up in the air and growled, “I came here to apologize, and you make it impossible!”

  Despite the contact lenses, Melissa’s eyes blazed. “Impossible? You are impossible. How do you expect me to react when you lecture me on how a ruler should deal with subjects! Such arrogance! You used the fact that Ms. Barker could not defend against or refute such an attack. Yes, I resent that.”

  Andrew closed his eyes and nodded. He forced his body to relax. “Yes, you’re right.” He shook his head and wandered over to her couch. Sitting down heavily, he then leaned forward with elbows on his knees and hands clasped together. “You just don’t know how it feels.”