For Alaric this meant fostering and directing the sense that he was something special. At his mother’s urging he had never showed weakness—and never had mercy been a trait ascribed to him. He was known to be smart, and never let others see how hard he worked to gain knowledge. He’d spot their assumptions about him, then act counter to those assumptions. He cultivated an air of mystery and superiority because if anyone decided to know him as their enemy, Alaric would be one huge paradox centered on his implacable nature and aggressive mien.
Men may fear me, and that’s all to the good. Their inability to understand me will spawn much fear, and in those too stupid to be afraid, it will create confusion.
Over and above that, Alaric acknowledged one more truth he’d taken from his genefather. While he thought the man had made certain disastrous choices, Alaric understood how his genefather had made those choices. He had truly known his foe.
It was himself.
And so, like his father, Alaric needed to know himself. He could cultivate a legend. He could even appear as a god to others. Mankind had not so sufficiently evolved that the sense of peace one found in superstition had vanished—but without knowing himself and his own weaknesses, he would always be in jeopardy of failing himself. He might even, as his mother had through her loathing of her brother, sabotage his own future.
This he would not allow himself to do.
Through nurturing he was a creature of the Clans and the Inner Sphere. Through his nature he was heir to the Inner Sphere. He meant to lead Clan Wolf in the conquest of Terra, then to assume the thrones to which his blood entitled him. It was a bold proposition for his future, but one that would not remain beyond his grasp forever.
Know your foe. Know thyself. Alaric’s eyes tightened. You are Victor Steiner-Davion’s son. You must learn what that means and embrace it.
Alaric smiled as a klaxon began to wail deep within the bowels of the ship. You are called now to war. Go and fulfill your true nature.
2
Koniz, Clan Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
22 October 3136
The Jade Falcons, for reasons known only to them—and reasons utterly incomprehensible to Alaric—allowed his force to land uncontested. Some in his command suggested their recent civil war had dissipated their forces to such an extent that they couldn’t contest the landing. They might even have been interested in capturing his DropShips—an absurd notion, to be certain, but the Falcons had always dreamed well beyond their grasp of reality.
And reality was the reason the Wolves had come to Koniz. During their Trial of Possession for the Khanship of their Clan—what his mother dismissed as a civil war—the Falcons had dared raid Wolf worlds for supplies. Such transgressions could not go unpunished, and this was a point Alaric had stressed to his subordinates. Despite his emphasis, however, he was certain that few of his troops truly understood the import of his words.
Alaric waited with a Star of heavy ’Mechs in a small wooded vale fifteen kilometers south of the town of Ogstrenburg. The Falcons had established their headquarters there and had suggested the plains to the south as a suitable battlefield. In fact, the plains were part of the local watershed, so the ground was soft. Had he landed his command in what appeared to be the most convenient place, they would have been attacking up a rise on slow terrain.
Instead of accepting the Falcon invitation, he landed beyond the southern plains and sent three Stars of light and medium ’Mechs up and over the wooded hills. They made quite a show of coming through the woods and even torched several tall trees to mark their passing. When they reached the plains, they hesitated and began to pick out a firm path through the soft ground. This had them moving in three columns toward the Jade Falcon position.
It also gave his Star plenty of time to get into position. Alaric shifted his shoulders, resettling his heavy neurohelmet on the shoulders of his cooling vest. As oppressive as its weight and confinement could be, he relished the sensation. Others might feel it to be a burden, especially while waiting, but he translated the weight into the potential for glory. In combat it would be as nothing—forgotten even—and the aching muscles in the aftermath would be a sign of survival.
He smiled within the confines of his helmet. He’d had his helmet’s faceplate mirrored, and his helmet painted with the snarling visage of a wolf. He refused to remove it until combat was finished, allowing no one to see what few emotions escaped his control to be displayed on his face. He was always implacable; the helmet transformed him into an avatar of war.
He watched the Mad Cat’s displays. The primary showed his systems to be green and functional, from the long-range missile launchers to the extended-range lasers in both of the ’Mech’s arms. The Mad Cat, with its birdlike legs, forward-thrusting cylindrical torso and weapons pods where other ’Mechs had hands, was one of the most alien-looking ’Mechs. He chose it specifically for that reason since it made it even easier to disguise his humanity.
The secondary monitor carried the feed from a holocamera wielded by an elemental team stationed high on the hills overlooking the battlefield. His trio of Stars, with the medium ’Mechs in the middle and slightly ahead of the others, advanced within range of the Jade Falcons. Everything that could be wrong with the Wolf formation was. The wings had no contact with the center. They were traveling in columns and were bunched too closely to offer each other much support. If the Jade Falcons waited as long as they should to cut loose, they’d smash his troops. If they struck as he would have in their position, none of the Wolf ’Mechs would make it off the battlefield.
But they won’t strike as I would. They are Falcons and a garrison force. Their foolishness will betray them.
The Falcons had deployed themselves on the reverse slope of the hills, hiding from direct-attack weapons like autocannons and energy beams. From their position they could launch long-range missiles at the Wolves with impunity. They should have done so when the Wolves had just begun to mount the slope. Alaric’s ’Mechs would have to slow on the uphill climb, making them easier targets to hit.
The Falcons should have waited longer to attack. If they were not Falcons, they might have.
Hundreds of missile contrails arced through the sky. Explosions lit the battlefield. At least half the missiles missed their targets, sowing fire between the wings. Those that did hit ’Mechs shattered armor. One Ryoken staggered, then fell on its back as the missile barrage ripped away an arm.
What at one moment had been a meadow filled with long green grasses became a pockmarked landscape. Smoke rose from craters, and hunks of turf hung from the ’Mechs that were still moving. None of his Wolves had been destroyed, though all had taken damage. Their advance had been stopped, and as the downed Ryoken struggled to its feet, the rearmost Wolf elements turned to run. The left wing broke to the west, with the center quickly following through muddy terrain. The right wing cut east on a course that would have allowed them to flank the Falcon position, but only if the Falcons were stupid enough to have left it open.
And despite what he might think of the Falcons, Alaric would not allow as how they might be that deluded about their own competence. No battle has ever been won by assuming the enemy is stupid.
Alaric raised his ’Mech’s left arm, signaling the others in his Star to be ready. He could have tight-beamed a command, but he didn’t want to risk detection. Moreover, a silent signal carried more import with it. He was concentrating so much he didn’t want to waste words.
The Star of light ’Mechs moved east along the base of the hills, then curled back toward the south just past the edge of the Jade Falcon position. Boiling out from around the hills and coming up over the top, two Jade Falcon Stars gave chase. Lasers, red and green, flashed past the retreating Wolves, burning black swaths through the grasses.
The Wolves, flying toward the woods, did not shoot back. The pilots knew their only salvation lay in reaching cover. The Falcons, on the other hand, knew glory awaited them for bringing down their enemies. Once the
y’d crushed that flank, they could turn and catch the others.
Alaric dropped his ’Mech’s arm, then hit the triggers on his joysticks. The Mad Cat rocked back as long-range missiles arced up and away. A wave of heat washed up through the cockpit, warming his flesh but having no effect on his spirit. The battle had been joined. They will be punished.
Two hundred LRMs reached out from the vale to pepper the battlefield. A Fenris led the Falcon advance and caught the first wave of missiles. Fiery explosions rippled up the ’Mech’s body. Crushed armor flew away in scales. The ’Mech spun and dropped to its knees, and then the Cougar racing out of the smoke smashed into it. The Fenris flopped facedown and the Cougar, shedding armor from its legs, stumbled to the ground.
Per their plan, the heavy ’Mechs launched a second salvo that wreathed the Jade Falcons with fire. The Wolves’ light ’Mechs turned east and north again, using the smoke and confusion to flank the Falcons. A pair of Ullers pumped shots from their gauss rifles into the Falcon ranks, following the silvery balls with a storm of red laser darts. Though the light ’Mechs kept moving at speed, the Falcons had clustered so closely together that it was all but impossible to miss a target.
Over to the west, the fleeing Wolves also turned and came hard at the Falcons’ western flank. Beams flashed as the ’Mechs raced up the slope toward the Falcons. Alaric suspected the Falcon commander had led the chase to the east, abandoning the position to a lesser officer who now found himself overwhelmed as light and medium ’Mechs overran his position.
His day is just going to get worse.
Alaric stalked his ’Mech from the vale. He moved quickly, but not hastily. Those following him spread out in good order, launching more missiles as they came. Alaric did not, but instead swept his crosshairs over the battlefield. He targeted the struggling Cougar and stabbed two green beams from his large lasers into its right leg. What little armor remained there vaporized beneath the infernal caress. Myomers snapped and the ferro-titanium bones melted. The Cougar sagged to the right, the ’Mech’s weight burying its right arm in the soft ground.
The Cougar’s pilot, as bold as she was foolish, thrust her ’Mech’s left arm at his Mad Cat. The large laser pulsed out a stream of energy bolts that peppered his ’Mech’s right thigh. Armor melted and the monitor image shifted color from green to yellow to warn him of the damage. Alaric rode with the shift in balance caused by the loss of armor, then paused and deliberately took aim on the ’Mech’s cockpit.
Twin beams converged, making ferro-ceramic armor and flesh stream into a fiery puddle in the meadow.
The Falcon force broke, but one Star captain had the presence of mind to keep his unit together. They dashed east, blasting through the light ’Mechs harrying them. The light ’Mechs wheeled to give chase, but did not follow so closely that they could be ambushed. They’d keep the fleeing Falcons away long enough for Alaric to crush the Falcon center.
More missiles and lasers destroyed the remains of the Falcon pursuit force. The fighting at the crest of the hill had become fierce, with short-range missiles corkscrewing into targets, and red, green and blue energy beams lighting the landscape. Alaric’s Star rushed across the torn, muddy meadow and up the hill, with Alaric himself anchoring the right flank.
Alaric focused, aware of but unconcerned for those Wolves fighting beside him. The Falcons had allowed themselves to be pushed out of the redoubt and his light ’Mechs had already slipped into the trenches. This afforded them cover while the retreating Falcons had none. This hardly left them defenseless, however; a pair of curiously inhuman looking ’Mechs descended on silvery plasma jets to interpose themselves between the fleeing ’Mechs and their pursuit.
A cold thrill trickled through Alaric’s guts. He’d not seen the like of these ’Mechs before. Their clawed feet sank talons into the ground and the triple claws on the hands snapped open and shut reflexively. The triangular head gave the ’Mech a raptorial look, and odd, winglike appendages sprouted from the shoulders.
Finally, I get to see their Jade Hawks in battle. Were they worth being kept secret?
Flights of short-range missiles shot from their breasts, ripping apart a Ryoken. The paired small lasers slung beneath each forearm spat out darts of coherent light, melting armor. Their weird appearance and the fierceness of their assault made the Wolves pause. As the retreating Falcons regrouped to lay down covering fire for their allies, the two heavy ’Mechs crouched before launching themselves into the air.
I can’t let that happen. The world and the cacophony of battle fell away. Time slowed. Alaric swung his crosshairs around to cover one of the Falcons. His Mad Cat twisted at the waist to keep him on target while his ’Mech traveled to the northeast. As his target ignited his plasma jets, Alaric pulled the trigger and pumped kilojoules of energy into the enemy Jade Hawk.
Heavy green beams slashed scars over the right thigh and breast, narrowly missing one of the SRM launchers. His medium lasers hit the right arm, peeling away armor. The pulse lasers stippled that same arm, disintegrating all but the last of its armor.
A cyclone of heat filled the Mad Cat’s cockpit. Sweat slicked every inch of Alaric’s exposed flesh. Lights flashed, warning of excessive heat and degrading the ’Mech’s capabilities accordingly. His ’Mech slowed and the crosshairs tracked sluggishly. Another salvo like that and his ’Mech might even shut down, which was not something conducive to his life or legend.
But neither is allowing my command to be slaughtered.
One of the Falcons dropped another of his light ’Mechs as it soared high and to the west, instantly placing itself in a flanking position against the Wolves. The ’Mech Alaric attacked had likewise intended to flee in that direction, but the loss of armor radically shifted the war machine’s center of balance. The jump jets lit up, but the right shoulder rose faster than the left. The ’Mech arced east, not west, and the pilot wrestled it to the ground, somehow managing to keep it on its feet.
Alaric swiveled the Mad Cat at the waist, brought his crosshairs on target, and when a gold dot glowed at their heart, he hit his triggers again. The various lasers blasted energy into the Jade Hawk, scattering it over the ’Mech’s torso and right arm. The large laser’s green beam melted through the thin veneer of armor that remained on that limb. A pulse laser filled the arm with scarlet energy needles, exploding one of the small lasers. The right claw snapped open and locked as myomer fibers burned.
The Jade Hawk shot back. Short-range missiles pounded the Mad Cat. Explosions cratered armor all over the ’Mech. One hammered the cockpit, spalling armor fragments that nicked Alaric’s legs and arms. He hissed, more in annoyance than pain, then fought with his ’Mech as the heat sensors pushed into the red zone.
As much as he wanted to shoot again, to do so would guarantee a total failure of his ’Mech’s systems. The gyroscopes lost synchronization for a moment, starting the ’Mech on a lurch to the right. Alaric punched a foot down on a pedal and wrenched the ’Mech back upright. The left leg dragged, gouging a deep furrow in the ground.
It could be a grave.
The Jade Falcon stepped forward, closing with him. The left claw reached out, aiming for the cockpit. Alaric imagined it punching through the armor, plucking him from his command couch and crushing him. It would have been a novel way to die, falling prey to the claw of a ’Mech he’d never seen before. But it would have been equally ignominious, so he rejected the idea.
For just a heartbeat he imagined what his foe was feeling. The Mad Cat had to be glowing white hot on a secondary monitor in that cockpit. The Falcon was certain the Wolf pilot was helpless. Indeed, he was barely able to keep the ’Mech upright. And with its array of short-range missiles, the Falcon ’Mech was much better suited to infighting than the Mad Cat.
For that moment he savored what his enemy was feeling, that piquant taste of victory of one man over another.
But I am not a man. I am meant to be a god.
The Mad Cat thrust both weapons pods at the F
alcon. The large and medium lasers flashed, and pulse laser darts leaped from the Mad Cat’s torso. Armor melted, running like wax to congeal again in rivulets below black scars. One emerald beam caught the Falcon in the center of its chest, passing just beneath the point of its triangular head.
A secondary explosion shook the ’Mech. It stumbled drunkenly, black smoke pouring from the hole. Its outstretched claw gave the impression it had intended to steady itself by grabbing the Mad Cat, but it missed entirely. It drifted to the left, then twisted at the waist. Missiles shot from it, most missing the Mad Cat—and those that hit scattering but not penetrating armor.
Then the Falcon went down, crashing heavily onto its side. An oblong panel on the head burst outward, and the pilot ejected. She rode a jet of flame past Alaric’s ’Mech and down to the battlefield, where Wolf elementals would later hunt her down and kill her.
Heat choked the Mad Cat’s cockpit. Alaric struggled to keep his ’Mech on its feet, and managed it by sinking into a crouch. He shifted the feet and started to come back up, but the engine shut down, freezing the ’Mech as if just about to pounce on the Falcon.
Alaric closed his eyes for a moment. To have your ’Mech shut down on the battlefield was the product of taking foolish risks. He accepted that, just as he accepted victory as a confirmation of having made the proper choices. It was not that he didn’t believe he could be wrong; he just knew that any error that did not get him killed generated a tale that made him more of an enigma.
Masters of War Page 2