"Star Colonel Ravill Pryde, I request what is my right—a Trial of Position to win back my rank."
Ravill Pryde sat at his desk, one like no other officer had here on Sudeten. He must have dragged it with him all the way here to this inhospitable planet. Made from dark, polished wood, the big, heavy piece was filigreed all the way around its upper edge in falcon insignia.
Ravill Pryde got up and came around the desk. He was so much shorter that Joanna could not help feeling a definite sense of physical superiority.
"Negative, Star Commander Joanna. I deny you any appeal."
"With all due respect, I believe that such a judgment exceeds your authority."
"It does not. In the five years since the Truce of Tukkayid, the Falcon Guards have grown weak and perhaps a bit stale. I have been charged with returning the unit to its former levels of ferocity and efficiency. The performance of the Falcon Guards has deteriorated, perhaps because of the unusually high number of freeborn warriors, and it is my duty to—"
"You speak against freeborns, yet you appoint one to serve in your Cluster."
"I see you have spoken with Star Commander Horse."
"We have served together a long while."
Ravill Pryde leaned against the desk and stared at Joanna. She looked away, for the first time noticing the pictures hanging on the walls. Clan warriors rarely decorated their quarters, but when they did it was usually with images of war or falcons or sometimes some scene from village life. These prints had obviously been liberated from Inner Sphere worlds during the invasion. She wondered how Ravill Pryde had obtained them—and why.
"Star Commander Joanna, you look stiff and uncomfortable standing there. Would you like to sit down?"
There was something unctuous in the way he spoke, in the grandiose way he gestured toward a heavily stuffed armchair, another piece of furniture no doubt transported to the wilds of Sudeten by this man. The cloth of the upholstery was intricately designed in an abstract pattern, with many interlocking bars and curved lines. "I prefer to stand, Star Colonel."
"As you wish." His pause seemed intentionally dramatic. "Star Commander Joanna, you have served the Falcon Guards—and, for that matter, Clan Jade Falcon—well, and for many years."
The last remark nettled Joanna. There was generally an insult in any remark that alluded to a warrior's age.
"Does that mean that the disgrace on Twycross is no longer a part of my codex?"
Joanna often wondered if she would ever escape the humiliation of Twycross. Even though she had been a member of the Falcon Guards for only twenty-four hours, the shame of the defeat attached to her as one of the few survivors. On that infamous day, an Inner Sphere warrior had, by exploding hidden mines, set off an avalanche in a pass called the Great Gash. The explosion had buried and virtually destroyed the Falcon Guards, whose disgrace had reverberated throughout the Clans. Joanna herself had been reduced from the rank of Star Captain to Star Commander. And even that she had only maintained by defeating two BattleMechs in the Trial of Refusal she'd demanded to win back some rank. Otherwise she would have been left a mere MechWarrior.
"Twycross remains in your codex, as you no doubt realize. I will take your comment as unfortunate sarcasm, but I suggest that you rein in your anger during this meeting."
"Are we Clan warriors, the two of us?"
"Why do you ask that?"
"I am unused to polite conversations."
"Star Commander Joanna, I had hoped that this meeting might be amicable. Obviously that is not your way."
"Or the way of the Clans."
The small, slight man seemed ruffled as he leaned away from the desk and walked directly over to her. But, Joanna noted with a perverse satisfaction, he was not angry. As before, she could see no rage in him.
"I will be brief, Star Commander Joanna. You are to be reassigned."
Looking up at her, he let the words sink in. Taken completely by surprise, Joanna could barely breathe.
"Reassigned? I do not want to join any other Jade Falcon unit."
"You are not to be reassigned to a combat zone. Your days as a warrior are over. I know that will be hard to accept, but the Khan wishes to sift out warriors past their prime. Warriors like you, Joanna."
"But ... I mean, what are you saying?"
"I am saying that you will, in a month's time, be relieved of your Star command, and be sent back to the home-worlds—to Ironhold, to be exact."
"I have already served as a training officer. I do not wish to—"
"You will not be a falconer."
"What curse are you putting on me then?"
"You are a Clan officer, Star Commander Joanna. You accept whatever duty the Clan has for you, quiaff?"
"Aff, but I have always been a warrior, and I must end my days as a warrior!"
"I understand very well such sentiments. Your misfortune is that you have survived—and with skill and bravery, I might add."
"I volunteer to be reassigned to a unit of old warriors and fight my last battle alongside them."
"A solahma unit? I imagine that option was considered, but the wisdom of the Khan has superseded that simple solution. Your skills have been recognized. Seeing that your codex is a distinguished one, he has decided that you would serve best as the commander of a sibko incubation and nurturing facility, that you—"
"A canister nursemaid? You are saying that I have the skills to be a canister nursemaid, to watch over vats and nurseries, to—"
"Joanna, the assignment is an honor. You will not be performing simple tech duties. You will command the entire facility. You will be the warrior caste's eyes and ears in that place, our liaison, our representative, our falcon. This assignment is, in fact, a great honor!"
"It is imprisonment! A life sentence! It is punishment, is it not, for Twycross—a delayed punishment, but a punishment nevertheless!"
"How you can say that? The order comes from the Khan himself. He has chosen you."
"Would you want such an assignment, Ravill Pryde?"
"I am bloodnamed. It is not an assignment for a warrior with a bloodname. It is one for a warrior not bloodnamed but who has distinguished him or herself in battle. It is a reward, not a punishment. And there is more. The position carries with it a great posthumous reward—to have your ashes mixed with the nutrient solutions for a new sibko."
That stopped Joanna. Short of winning a bloodname, the desire to have her ashes used to nourish a Jade Falcon sibko had become her greatest ambition. Yet—was it worth the shame of being a canister nanny?
"Well, Joanna? You understand better now?"
"Do I have any right of appeal?"
"None. It is for the good of the Clan. In time you will see and accept that."
"Never."
Ravill Pryde sighed. To Joanna, his sigh seemed especially unwarriorlike. It was the sigh of a bureaucrat, not a warrior.
"I am surprised that you feel this way," he said. "With your permission, I would speak personally for a moment, quiaff?"
"Aff. What worse can you tell me now?"
"I have been fully informed about the honor duel fought yesterday, Star Commander Joanna. You performed admirably, but you were a fool for fighting it. The Circle of Equals is a place to resolve great offenses, not to quibble over such trivialities a—"
"Trivialities? They insulted me and my friends."
"Those friends are freeborn, therefore trivial."
"You are willing enough to steal one of them for your Command Cluster."
"True. But that is based on merit. I would not fight an honor duel over Star Commander Horse." He straightened. Standing as tall as he could, in his crisp uniform, with military bearing, Ravill Pryde looked like a leader, in spite of his height. "You have been in the field too long, Joanna. Too much combat and the nerves get stretched taut, as I think happened to you. Everything becomes like war, a matter of life and death. In this case you did not react sensibly. You endangered yourself and inflicted damage on others, and tha
t is waste and the Clan abhors waste. When a warrior becomes so old that his judgment falters, reassignment is definitely in order. I congratulate you on the honor the Khan has bestowed upon you. Let us hear no more about it. Dismissed."
He wheeled around in military fashion, returning to the elegant chair behind his elegant desk and sat down. Dwarfed by the chair's high back, Ravill Pryde again looked too small for a warrior.
Joanna did not move.
"Dismissed, Star Commander."
"Ravill Pryde—"
"I would remind you to address me by my rank."
"Star Colonel Ravill Pryde, are you not aware that many older warriors continue to serve the warrior caste here in the Inner Sphere?"
"Name one."
"Kael Pershaw."
"He is an advisor to the Khan."
"Natasha Kerensky of Clan Wolf."
"You dare compare yourself to a bloodnamed warrior? Though she is aged, Natasha Kerensky is not you, Joanna. She earned her position with the Wolves, and unlike you, she has never stopped advancing up through the ranks. And she has risen high, even to the position of a Khan of the Wolves. But when she is too old to be a Khan, she will die or be removed to serve her Clan in another way.
"You are arrogant and audacious even to suggest such a comparison. The decision has been made. Dismissed."
"Ravill Pryde, I would fight you in a Circle of Equals. I formally make that challenge."
"Neg, you may not challenge me. Not on this issue. I have merely communicated orders from above to you. They are, after all, not my orders. You do not duel with the messenger, Star Commander."
"I would duel with you because your manner is arrogant and supercilious."
"We do not fight an honor duel over my addressing you properly as your superior officer."
"I would duel with you because you are the lowest kind of freebirth, Ravill Pryde."
He smiled. It was a tight smile, without humor in it. "Not bad, Joanna, not bad. But such insults are simply another triviality, not worth fighting an honor duel over. You must do better.
"I would—"
"Dismissed! Now!"
Turning sharply, she marched toward the door. "Star Commander Joanna!"
He keeps reminding me of the demotion, the stravag. I will think of a challenge that falls within his damn rules. I will!
"I remind you that my combat skills were proven in my original Trial and my bloodname contests. I am not an ordinary new warrior like Cholas, Castilla, and the rest. With your considerable skills you managed to defeat all five of them. But you would not defeat me. So, persist in this challenge, and I will slaughter you. It is as simple as that. It will be Twycross all over again for you. That is a promise. Accept your reassignment with grace, and we will have an amicable month together. I can learn from you, and I would rather learn from you than fight you."
Joanna said nothing. She merely turned on her heel and left Ravill Pryde's quarters. Something inside the room fell when she slammed the door shut. She hoped it was one of those stravag Inner Sphere prints.
Outside, she came upon the branch she had used against the tree trunk. Probably carried by the wind, it seemed to have been searching her out. She picked it up and snapped it in two against her leg with a loud, echoing crack. Joanna hoped, but did not care much, that the cracking sound belonged to the branch and not her leg.
8
Watch Command
Jade Falcon Command Center, Wotan
Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
7 July 3057
Kael Pershaw peered at the data sheet his aide had just handed him. In the dimness of the command center, its numbers were difficult to read, especially for one with only one good eye. And that eye was not exactly twenty-twenty anymore, either.
Not wanting any of his subordinates to observe his vision difficulties, he casually sat down at a console and set the sheet down on a computer keyboard. The glow of the monitor screen helped to bring the document's letters and numbers into focus.
The information on the sheet had been obtained through the interception of some Wolf Clan messages. As head of the Jade Falcon branch of the Clan Watch, the intelligence arm of the Clans, Pershaw was immediately sent any intercepted dispatch that seemed more than routine.
"What do you think, Kael Pershaw?" his aide, Star Commander Deval Huddock, said. Huddock always spoke most deferentially to his superior, but carefully avoided use of any rank. Though Kael Pershaw still wore the insignia of a Star Colonel, his warrior days were over and everyone knew it.
"Give me another minute, Huddock," Pershaw, never known for courtesy to his subordinates, growled.
He picked up the paper to examine it closer. By doing so, he lost the advantage of the light and had to slam it back down. The move depressed some keys and a jumble of misinformation appeared onscreen. After he lifted the paper slightly, one key still remained depressed. That produced several lines of dancing <'s until he released the key and erased them.
"So, Huddock," he said finally, "the only meaning I can take from this is that Clan Wolf has somehow been infiltrating spies into Jade Falcon units."
"That is my interpretation also, sir. The key word seems to be burgess."
"And why is that?"
Pershaw had great respect for Huddock's judgement. It was the reason he had given him such authority in spite of a rather mediocre service record. Although Huddock had succeeded in winning a bloodname, he had suffered from a condition that prevented him from properly using his neurohelmet to pilot a BattleMech—a condition techs sometimes called brainslip. Fortunately for Huddock, he had caught Pershaw's attention, and Pershaw had arranged for the warrior to join the staff of the Jade Falcon Watch. Pershaw never regretted his decision.
Huddock's looks were as average as his military exploits. His face was round, and his eyes generally had a deeply focused appearance.
"Burgess was a famous Terran spy about ten centuries ago, sir."
"He must have been very good for his name to endure so long."
"I am not sure about that. Names of traitors have a tendency to survive without any memories of their deeds. At any rate, I know Burgess was English."
"I understand they were devious, Englishmen."
"I do not know, sir."
Pershaw continued to study the report. "How will we be able to tell which units might have been infiltrated?"
"It is hard, but not impossible. Because of the truce, there are two kinds of troop movements now. Most units are fixed in position and travel only when their commanders wish to issue a challenge to other Clan units or conduct raids. Infiltrators could join units in two ways. First, if young enough, an agent could pose as a new freeborn warrior fresh from training."
Kael Pershaw nodded thoughtfully, though the expression on his ruined face was unreadable. "Very good, Huddock. It would not be difficult to modify the codex of a young warrior to match that of another person because a newly minted codex is nowhere near as extensive as a veteran's."
"Exactly. Once the forgery is complete, the spy merely hops the next JumpShip to one of the worlds in our occupation zone and connects easily with a unit."
Pershaw could not suppress his outrage. "If any freebirth scum has killed off a newly qualified Jade Falcon warrior to take his place, I will personally see to it that he or she has his skin peeled off alive."
"The spies are not exactly freeborn, sir."
The remark, so characteristic of Huddock's habitual literalness, made Pershaw smile and calmed him down. "I meant freebirth in the obscene usage, not the actual one, Huddock."
"Oh, I see."
"What is the other possible means of infiltration?”
“Well, uh, we have been replacing many older warriors and—"
"Warriors as old as myself?"
Huddock, who also did not perceive irony, seemed embarrassed. "I do not think age can be counted in years, Star Colonel Pershaw. It should be judged through effectiveness. Old Clan warriors are those whose combat ab
ility is in question and whose reassignments are of a nonutilitarian nature."
Pershaw laughed. "You are a diplomat, Huddock. Perhaps we should make an ambassador out of you."
"I would treat the assignment as an honor, sir."
"Huddock, if you continue to serve me well, perhaps I should think about transferring you to the diplomatic service, quiaff?"
Huddock, as usual, did not catch the sarcasm. "I wish to serve the Watch as long as I am needed, sir."
"Diplomatic, if not wise perhaps. The Watch has yet to earn much respect among Jade Falcon warriors, most of whom rate anything less than battle prowess as beneath their attention."
Huddock found it particularly diplomatic at this moment not to respond to Pershaw's bitter commentary. After a pause, he picked up the thread of their earlier talk. "Many of our old warriors are being transferred to solahma units. Since we currently have little call to send such units out for sacrifice missions, they are being used mainly for minor guard duties and occasionally for raids that would be, well, slightly dishonorable for regular Jade Falcon warriors. Transfers of personnel in and out of these units is not a matter of stringent scrutiny. No one much cares about the codexes of solahma warriors. They will all die soon anyway."
"Yes, I can see that. For some of us, even those at command level, the old, used-up warriors rate only just slightly above freeborn warriors in our estimation. I can see commanding officers expediting transfers just to get rid of them."
"Some older freeborn warriors have also been assigned to solahmas."
"Logical, logical. And I can see where you are going with this, Huddock. It is relatively simple to insert a spy into such a unit, especially since the troops and officers are below-standard and morale is generally so low that few bonds are formed among individuals. I wonder, though, what could be gained by using solahmas for intelligence work?"
"Well, like any intelligence work, the task is essentially one of gathering information. Place any good observant agent anywhere, and something he or she sees or reads or hears can prove to be useful. And we know the Wolves rely much more on agents and informants than we do."
"Up to now."
I am Jade Falcon Page 8