Warrior: riposte

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Hanse clapped his hands together. I've owed you this, Maximilian Liao! Now I begin to repay you. "What's the word from Northwind?"

  Quintus's smile dimmed. "The Northwind Highlanders arrived in time to kick the Draconis forces out, though the First Kearny Highlanders got ripped up by the Fifth Sword of Light before the Sword was forced to retreat offworld. All our units there, including Team Banzai, were seriously mauled. The Fifth Deneb Light Cavalry is going back to its homeworld for rest and refitting. Team Banzai, or the ragged battalion they've cobbled together from the survivors, is en route back here, to New Avalon. They want Dr. Banzai treated in the NATS Medical Center."

  "Of course. Whatever they need," the Prince said. "But what about Bradley's Bravos?"

  Quintus smiled. "Major Bradley kept them on Northwind. Says he's got a contract for a year's service and he means to fulfill it."

  Hanse nodded approvingly. "They're affiliated with the Kell Hounds, aren't they?"

  Quintus nodded. "They're its third 'Mech battalion."

  Hanse rubbed his unshaven chin. "Send a message to Northwind. Let the Bravos rebuild themselves from all our battlefield salvage. In a week, I'll issue a transfer for them to rejoin the Kell Hounds—wherever they are."

  Folding his arms across his chest, Hanse studied Quintus as the Minister made some notes. "I take it these two items were not why you woke me up?"

  "The rabbit bolted from his hutch," Quintus said, with a smile from ear to ear.

  Hanse's laughter filled the room and banished his fatigue. "Ah, Quintus, that's the best news I've heard since inheriting the throne." His blue eyes blazed with an obsessive light. "When? How?" Hanse crossed to the antechamber's couch, and seating himself on the edge of it, waved Quintus to a brown leather chair.

  Quintus licked his lips and mirrored Hanse's predatory grin. "As you requested, CID agents moved in and arrested Serge Korigyn for espionage on the fifteenth. We tossed him onto his own DropShip and told him not to come back. At the same time, we cleared all trace data from the computer and let Michael see who and what was really where. He eluded our surveillance in the wee hours of the sixteenth, and a small shuttlecraft was reported to have boarded the Ambassador's DropShip before it reached its JumpShip and left the system. Since then, Michael is reported to be in seclusion."

  Hanse leaned back with a humorless laugh. Michael, you fool! Don't you realize you've blown your one real chance at making something good out of your treachery? If you had come to me, in return for some concessions, I would have hailed you as my partner in an effort to deceive Maximilian Liao. We had nothing solid on you, nothing we could use to crucify you. Once again, you assume too much, and you suffer for it.

  "When do we estimate the ship's arrival at Sian?" the Prince asked, his eyes still glittering.

  Quintus hesitated. "The middle of February, which is also about the time we can expect word of Liao's disastrous Operation Riposte to get back to him." The Minister smiled cautiously. "Michael could get there sooner, but that would mean Liao has some extra JumpShips hidden away in the St. Ives Commonality to fill the gaps in that command circuit he set up."

  Hanse barely heard Quintus's words. "The middle of February. How appropriate. I dearly hope Maximilian fully appreciates my Valentine gift to him."

  51

  Elgin

  Tikonov Commonality, Capellan Confederation

  2 February 3029

  Colonel Pavel Ridzik half-rose as his dinner partner left her seat, headed for the restaurant's powder room. A few steps from the table, she turned, flicking her black hair back off her shoulders, and winked at him. Clad in a silver-black sequined dress that clung to her like a second skin and that was cut deeply in both front and back, his companion drew the eyes of every man in the room. As she passed from their sight, more than one man nodded a silent salute to the Capellan Confederation's Strategic Military Director.

  Ridzik smiled broadly. I sincerely hope she is as talented as she is beautiful. Recent and bitter memories of Maximilian Liao's rejection of his proposed campaign still rankled. She will be the salve for my wounds . . . for now, anyway. Then I can decide what to do.

  The Colonel cupped the brandy snifter in the palm of his left hand, swirling the liquid around and around as he reflected. My choices are simple, really. Either I arrange for Liao's death and force marriage on his daughter Candace, or I carve myself a sovereign realm from what's left of the Tikonov Commonality and negotiate a truce with Hanse Davion. He smiled while weighing the two alternatives in his mind. Bah! To hell with Hanse Davion. Why settle for a slice of the pie when I can arrange to have the whole thing ?

  When the head waiter approached, Ridzik snapped out of his ruminations. "Excuse me, Colonel," the man said, "but there is a call for you." He pointed nervously toward the restaurant's entrance. "I'm sorry, but none of our mobile receivers are secure."

  Ridzik nodded. I should never have told those idiots at headquarters where I was going. "Don't worry. No offense taken. Please let my companion know where I am when she returns." Ridzik deposited his linen napkin beside the brandy snifter, then slipped past the waiter.

  He found the visiphone in a corner of the entrance alcove, but the screen was dark and the connection had obviously been broken. If there ever was a call at all! he thought angrily.

  Before Ridzik could act on his suspicions, however, two large, strong-looking men had him bracketed. "Please come with us, Colonel," one of them said.

  "No! What is this?"

  The man who had spoken glanced apprehensively toward the dining room. "Colonel, we have no time, and we're not supposed to hurt you."

  Ridzik bared his teeth in an angry snarl. "Time? What is this about?"

  The other man tugged hard on Ridzik's right arm. "Your date. She went to powder her nose, but she left her purse on your table. Move it!"

  They lifted Ridzik off his feet and carried him from the restaurant. They made it through the doors and halfway down the dark street before a tremendous explosion ripped through the restaurant. Spears of flame shot all the way across the street to singe the buildings across the way, and glass splinters sliced through the half-dozen pedestrians unfortunate enough to be traveling the streets.

  The ear-shattering blast and Shockwave knocked Ridzik and his guards to their knees. Momentarily freed from the grasp of his captors, Ridzik turned and saw a white-hot inferno burning where just moments before he'd been dining.

  He swallowed hard. "By all that's holy, she tried to assassinate me. She was a Davion agent!"

  The two men laughed briefly. "No sir, we're the Davion agents. She did try to kill you, but she was Maskirovka."

  Ridzik's jaw dropped open. "I don't understand . . ."

  The CID agents helped him to his feet. "If you don't mind, sir, we have an aircar waiting to take you to the spaceport. We have a ship bound for the Federated Suns. Prince Hanse Davion said he would explain everything to your full satisfaction if you would accompany us and be his guest."

  Ridzik nodded weakly, then mumbled something. The guard on his left leaned down. "Excuse me, sir, I didn't catch that."

  Ridzik smiled, his confidence growing. "Just an old Tikonov saying—'A slice of the pie, no matter how thin, is preferable to starvation.' " He bowed from the waist. "Colonel Pavel Ridzik, late of the Capellan Confederation, at your service. Do lead on, gentlemen. We don't want to keep the Prince waiting."

  52

  Sian

  Sian Commonality, Capellan Confederation

  14 February 3029

  Justin Xiang narrowed his dark eyes as Duke Michael Hasek-Davion strode boldly through the heavy bronze doors of the Chancellor's throne room. Michael paused for half a second at the entrance, then continued just as boldly along the strip of red carpet running toward Maximilian's throne. Under his left arm, the Duke of New Syrtis carried a cylindrical, black-lacquered map case and an unruly sheaf of notes.

  Maximilian smiled courteously as he stepped down from his throne to meet Duke
Michael on even footing. He bowed respectfully to his visitor, then looked to the others in the room to join his gesture. Justin, standing between Tsen Shang and Alexi Malenkov and opposite six members of the Chancellor's personal bodyguard aped the Chancellor's bow.

  Justin smiled as Michael also bowed. The Duke's confidence seems to be fading. He was prepared for a violent tirade, not for the Chancellor to greet him calmly.

  Maximilian Liao smiled and offered Michael his right hand while his left hand twisted the long thin strands of his mustache. "Your visit is unexpected, but is most welcome." Liao shook Michael's hand firmly and warmly. "I might add that it is also providential."

  Michael's green eyes darted uncertainly over the faces of the assembly as he freed his hand from the Chancellor's grasp. "You have learned, of course, of the outcome of your Operation Riposte?"

  The Chancellor spread his hands nonchalantly. "A minor setback. After all, we only lost forces that should have died earlier while defending their worlds." Liao smiled benignly as he remounted the steps to his throne. Standing before the symbolic carving that represented the universe, the Chancellor shrugged. "When I explained to those commanders that only through their service to me could they ever redeem their honor, they begged for assignments. They failed, their karmic burden becomes greater, and they pass to a new life. It is the way of the universe."

  A look of relief washed over Duke Michaels face. "Yours is an interesting perspective on this matter, Chancellor." Maximilian accepted the compliment with a nod, and Michael smiled. He extended the map case toward Alexi. "I have some plans here, Excellency, that I worked up while in transit. I think you'll find that they offer the means for both of us to get what we most want."

  Maximilian smiled broadly. "Splendid, my friend. Let us look at them now, and then we can refresh ourselves." The Chancellor nodded to Alexi. "Please stand over here where both the Duke and I can see the maps. Citizens Shang and Xiang, will you help the Duke? Citizen Shang, hold his portfolio of notes for him."

  All three of the Maskirovka analysts moved solicitously to assist Duke Michael. Alexi unrolled the maps and laid them out on the floor. The Duke pointed to a tactical map of the area around Tikonov's largest 'Mech production facility, which Alexi held up first. Tsen Shang took up a position to the Duke's right and a little in front of him, holding the portfolio at an angle, resting it on his hands at the bottom and against his collarbone at the top. Justin stood between the Duke and Shang, ready to turn pages as needed.

  Duke Michael, no longer nervous, began to explain the operation that the map depicted. "Hanse Davion has shifted his forces around so that only the Eighth Crucis Lancers RCT is left on Tikonov. He has designated the 'Mech factory complex there as the most important site on the world and has arranged his forces accordingly. What I propose is a joint operation between my Fifth Syrtis Fusiliers RCT and your Sung's Cuirassiers."

  Michael pointed to the map. In addition to a detailed description of the terrain in and around the factory complex, it had dozens of arrows in different colors to point out routes of approach and precise military maneuvers. "Sung's Cuirassiers will swing in here through the south, drawing the Eighth Crucis toward them. My Syrtis Fusiliers will form up on the Lancers' eastern flank, then turn and crush them while your forces engage them from the front."

  The Chancellor squinted at the map, then smoothed his mustache with thumb and forefinger of his right hand. "Would this be all three battalions of Sung's Cuirassiers, or just one battalion?"

  "I should think it would take the full regiment, Chancellor," Michael said. "That would be the only way to draw the Lancers out."

  Maximilian nodded thoughtfully. "True, true." He pointed a trembling finger at the map. "Now your troops would travel to Tikonov as Davion reinforcements, despite your flight?"

  Michael nodded confidently. "Yes, in this case, they will. Hanse trusts their leader, though the man would kill his own wife and children willingly if I so commanded him." Michael waved his left hand at the other maps on the floor. "In many of the other cases, of course, my troops will travel through your territory in order to arrive at their targets surreptitiously. With coordinated allocation of JumpShips, I believe I could have all my troops in place to strike a telling blow by the first of April."

  The Chancellor's head came up. "The first of April—All Fools' Day. You choose this as an omen for your strike?"

  The Duke of New Syrtis nodded, rage flashing in his green eyes. "What better time to strike at an old enemy who believes you harmless?"

  "Well put, Duke Michael. Well put." The Chancellor, a smile still on his face, glanced at Alexi. "Citizen, gather up those maps." Liao’s voice dropped to a sepulchral whisper. "Burn them. Burn them and scatter the ashes!"

  "What!" Michael's hoarse cry of outrage echoed sharply from the room's teak walls. He took a step toward Alexi, but Justin grabbed his right arm. Michael swung back with his artificial left hand, but Justin ducked the roundhouse blow, then doubled Michael over with a short, metal-fisted punch to the ribs.

  Pain lanced through Michael's words. "What? What is this? Those maps . . . those plans have taken weeks to prepare. This is outrageous!"

  Maximilian Liao's laughter rang through the throne room. "We have an old saying, you traitorous idiot... 'Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me!' No one makes a fool of Maximilian Liao twice!" The Chancellor's face flushed purple as he finally released the rage he'd contained since Michael had first arrived.

  Liao gestured broadly, taking in both the maps and Michael's notes. "You ask me to ship your troops to my worlds aboard my ships! You ask me to plant the dagger in my own back! You and your cursed brother-in-law will not find me so incredulous that you can expect to invade me with my own ships!"

  Michael stared at him wide-eyed. "No! You mustn't think that. I . . . we. . . I . . . were both betrayed by Hanse Davion. He played me for a fool. He used me to get at you!"

  "Ha!" The Chancellor crouched on his throne, thrusting his face forward to leer at the Duke. "How foolish do you believe I am? Do you believe me such an idiot that I would fall prey to such an obvious fabrication?" Liao gestured one hand toward Justin and Tsen Shang. "They've pointed out to me that the estimates of your own troop strengths were undervalued! How could you have made that mistake? How could you have let it slip past if you were being truly faithful to our agreement?"

  Michael shook his head violently. He stabbed a finger at Justin. "He's lying! He's Quintus Allard's son! He's been planted here to deceive you!" Turning quickly, Michael lunged at Justin with hands outstretched, his fingers tensing to grab the analyst's throat.

  Justin ducked, then buried his left fist in Michael's stomach. Michael grunted audibly as he fell back, then lay writhing and gasping for breath on the carpet. Still croaking weakly with unintelligible accusations, he pointed wildly at Justin.

  Maximilian Liao, spittle collecting at the corners of his mouth, descended halfway down the steps of his throne. He snorted derisively, then looked up at Justin. "This man is no spy, you moron! Our Operation Riposte was not entirely a loss. Justin sent the Fourth Tau Ceti Rangers off on an expedition. They destroyed a damned NAIS training cadre and escaped with some supplies."

  The Chancellor glared down at the Duke. "Do you realize what that means, you Judas? His attack ignored your reports, and it succeeded." Maximilian spat on the Duke of New Syrtis. "The man you accuse of being a traitor has again proven his loyalty to me."

  Liao turned his obsidian gaze toward Justin. "Justin Xiang, I require a service of you."

  Justin's head came up proudly. "I live to serve."

  Smiling, Maximilian Liao gestured to one of his bodyguards, then nodded at the Duke. "Execute the traitor."

  Justin wrapped the Duke's long braid around his left hand and used it to haul him to his knees. Accepting a pistol from one of the bodyguards, Justin eared the hammer back and pressed the gun's muzzle to Michael's right temple. Seated deep within his throne, Maximilian Liao nodd
ed his head and the sound of a single gunshot filled the room.

  Maximilian Liao watched Michael's braid slither through Justin's black metal fingers, then motioned to his bodyguards. "Get that thing out of my sight, and take the maps and notes with it." Leaning forward from his throne, the Chancellor smiled solicitously. "Now, Justin Xiang, refresh my memory on what you learned from the Rangers' raid on Axton, and tell me again how it will allow us to destroy Hanse Davion and his precious Federated Suns."