And if I cannot bargain him out of using the aerospace fighters, the odds become even more heavily stacked against us.
At the ’Mech bay’s heart stood Alaric’s Mad Cat. It had been thoroughly savaged, but techs swarmed over it, layering on armor. They’d already finished the upper body, so some of them were busy painting it the same dark gray as the other ’Mechs, and one labored to paint his rank insignia on the right breast.
Verena smiled. “Is it not amazing that what will take them days to do can be undone in a heartbeat?”
“I should think, Colonel, that could be said of any human endeavor.”
“Very good point.” She glanced at him, studying his profile for a moment. Her stomach churned. She had been prepared to meet with the Alaric she had known on La Blon, but this man was different. Restoration to his Clan and rank were one aspect of it, but it was also more than that. It took her a moment to identify that element, but once she had it, it betrayed itself in everything he said, how he moved, his bearing.
He is no longer defeated.
That realization shook her for two reasons. Defeat had haunted him and made him vulnerable. The beating he’d taken had accentuated that; but it was the core vulnerability that had attracted her to him. There was no denying he was handsome and could be charming, but the vulnerability allowed her to imagine it was possible to connect with him.
The second reason drilled straight into her soul. She, too, had been defeated and vulnerable. Her first defeat had been at Anastasia’s hands, when she was dismissed from the Wolf Hunters. Her second defeat had come on Baxter. She’d had her ’Mech shot out from under her and could have been killed. That she was praised for a great victory with which she felt little personal connection just heightened the dissonance between the praises heaped upon her and how she felt about herself.
Did Alaric sense that vulnerability in me? She knew the answer even before she finished framing the sentence. And will he use it against me?
That answer she knew without thinking.
As she accompanied him into the main building, through a corridor lined with framed pictures of Colton—presented as if she were some holovid star—she wanted to feel resentment or shame at how Alaric would use what they had shared, but she stopped. I would use it, if I could. She could not because he no longer felt vulnerable. To defeat him she would have to make him vulnerable again.
That realization revolutionized her thinking. The plans for bargaining that she had reviewed repeatedly with Kennerly suddenly fell apart. Her plans had been appropriate for the person Alaric expected to be dealing with; but that was a person he would defeat at the bargaining table—much as he had done with Colton on his way in.
Something in her shifted. She wasn’t sure if Alaric noticed, but Kennerly did. He coughed out a “Heh” as she straightened her shoulders. What is he thinking?
Alaric paid Kennerly no mind and conducted them into what had been Colton’s office. He waved them toward a conversation nook fitted with couches and a low table. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”
Kennerly shed his parka easily and tossed it on the couch. He looked around the room and smiled. “It’s a couple pews shy of a shrine.”
Alaric nodded slowly. “I think of Colonel Colton with the sour expression she wore when we pulled her from her ’Mech, not these pictures.”
Verena removed her jacket and sat. “Should I thank you for sparing her life and sending her to me?”
“I doubt it. Place her in your front lines and I shall rid you of her.”
“Not going to happen. She found a doctor to sign off on her being unfit for immediate duty due to stress.”
Kennerly snorted. “She signed a big contract to offer commentary on the coming battle for Nusakan.”
Alaric nodded and sat. “We should, perhaps, attend to that bit of business.”
Verena rested her elbows on her knees. “We might not have to. You have your ’Mechs all lined up so beautifully in the hangar. The DropShip that brought us is loaded with forty tons of conventional explosives. I can have it crashed into the ’Mech bay inside of two minutes, and I am sure you can’t shoot it down. That would end your threat to Nusakan.”
Alaric and Kennerly both blinked at her.
The Wolf clasped his hands together. “You would not do that. You are a Wolf. You understand bargaining and honor.”
“I also understand warfare and the reality of it, Star Colonel. Bargaining is all well and good, and we shall get down to that, but understand that my duty is to deny you access to the goods and services produced here. I will. And I do not appreciate the fact that in coming here you repeatedly ignored my attempts to speak with you. You chose deliberately to attack the south and Colonel Colton, not bargaining for a trial to possess the entire planet, just her district. I do not doubt you can find precedent for such a selective choice in the annals of the history we share, but we both know it was a deliberate strategy on your part to gain a foothold here—a foothold that I would have denied you.”
Kennerly stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. He’d repeatedly urged her to say exactly those sorts of things to Alaric, and she had demurred. She wanted the negotiations to be dignified, but that would have been what he expected. Moreover, the remark about a DropShip making a suicide run to wipe out his entire command had shaken Alaric. He covered it well, but vulnerability had flashed through his eyes.
Alaric raised an eyebrow. “Very well, let us begin the bargaining. Am I attacking you, or are you fighting to regain this province?”
Verena shook her head. “You have to come north, and we both know it. You’ve cornered the market on the manufacturing of electronic toys. If you stay here, children on hundreds of worlds will weep at Christmas. What you want is what we have up north—the components that will allow your ’Mechs to continue fighting. So you will be fighting to take possession of the planet.”
Alaric started to reply, but she held a hand up. “And you will take your aerospace fighters out of the mix immediately or I will have every warehouse and factory in the north destroyed, period. They are already wired and ready to go. You put anything in the air and you will lose everything but toys and processed algae food products.”
The Wolf’s blue eyes narrowed. “It would seem, Colonel, that command suits you. I shall assume that, unlike Zhuge Liang, you are not bluffing.”
“Make any assumptions you like, Star Colonel.”
Her counterpart nodded slowly. “Very well. I challenge you to a Trial of Possession for Nusakan. With what will you defend?”
“Everything I have. Three mixed battalions consisting of seventy-six BattleMechs plus assorted armor, artillery and infantry. I will not be activating the local militia, nor will I be arming partisans. I cannot be held responsible for what individual citizens choose to do on their own.”
“I will treat such citizens as spies and have them shot immediately. Please get that message out.”
Verena nodded. “I am in the process of doing that. It would help if you issued a statement that in the event of your victory, you will acknowledge the local government as the legitimate civil authority.”
“Done. And, as you wish, aerospace fighters are withdrawn from the mix, assuming you will similarly retire any aerospace assets you possess.”
“Done. What will you bring against me?”
“I will bring my entire Battle Cluster, though my third Trinary will remain here unless circumstance demands I bring them in.”
Thirty-five ’Mechs against my seventy-six? Verena did quick calculations. Given that Colton’s remaining Demons were unreliable, but that the Djinns and Stormhammers were crack troops, the odds still ran in Clan favor, but not overwhelmingly so.
“There are two strategic zones in the north. Will you fight for each one, or shall we choose a proxy battlefield, Star Colonel?”
“A proxy, I think.” Alaric looked at her, then frowned. “I shall let you choose it and position your forces. Then you may com
municate the location to me. I shall communicate in return a choice of landing zones and you may adjust accordingly. Shall we say a week?”
“A week.” Verena smiled. “Once I have chosen the location, I would be honored if you would be my guest to survey it. Four days from now?”
“My pleasure.” Alaric offered her his hand. “Bargained well and done.”
She met his grip firmly. “Bargained well and done. May the best commander win.”
Alaric smiled. “I suspect, Colonel, that has already happened.”
30
Jarlhagen, Skondia
Former Prefecture IX, Republic of the Sphere
15 March 3137
For Star Colonel Donovan, the conquest of Skondia was little more than a mathematics problem. The planet boasted temperate and heavily rugged areas that were the source of the trace metals for which it was prized. Toward the equator the rough landscape gentled into rain-forested areas of great beauty that provided a secondary industry of biopharmaceuticals and, combined with aquaculture, made the world self-sufficient in terms of food supply. In between the zones, in tectonically stable areas, light industrial districts had grown up. Metal from the smelters and mines in the mountains would move down for manufacture and subsequent export.
The mines and the factories were the prize, and he meant to have them. Though he was well aware that the entire campaign was a charade to cover the Wolf Clan’s move into the Lyran Commonwealth, Alaric’s looting of Yed Posterior had been taken as a brilliant tactic. The Clans were able to monitor Inner Sphere media traffic, and the debates centered on how this tactic was very much like those used by invading hordes in the past. Images of Mongols and Huns flashed into every home in the Inner Sphere, and reports of volunteers offering to help defend against rapine and pillage came from everywhere.
Donovan would not be outdone by Alaric. It had annoyed him that Alaric had been given equal status with him at the beginning of the operation. Alaric was too old, undertested, and so cocksure of himself that Donovan had known he was going to run into trouble. When it happened so early on, Donovan could hardly believe it.
Donovan admitted to himself that his offer to ransom Alaric was uncharacteristic—really, it was similar to something Alaric would have done were their positions reversed. Forcing him to become a bondsman was even more delicious. Donovan couldn’t quantify the emotions he felt at humiliating Alaric, but they had been good, and even the news that Alaric had contrived a way to test out to the rank of Star colonel on Nusakan did not dampen Donovan’s sense of victory.
Skondia was a problem to be solved, and he had hit upon the solution. He negotiated strongly with Anastasia Kerensky and brought the whole Thirteenth Wolf Guards Cluster and a Trinary from the 328th Assault Cluster as his reserve. While the Wolf Hunters did have Clan technology, the Skondia Rangers did not, so he could devote twenty ’Mechs to handle them, and bring twenty-five against the Wolf Hunters. The remaining fifteen he held in reserve and assumed he would use in the north fighting against Anastasia.
The crux of their negotiations centered on what would be defended. Both the mines and factories had to be covered, and as he expected, Anastasia chose to defend the mines. In fact, she brought her forces into the mountains in a formation reminiscent of how he had positioned his troops on Unukalhai. She’d done it to bait him—of this there was no doubt—and that left the Skondia Rangers covering the factory district down south near Askani.
The mountainous terrain would make for tough fighting, but the Thirteenth Wolf Guards were well suited to it and practiced at it. He intended to engage, pin the Wolf Hunters, then bring the 328th’s Alpha Trinary up to crush a wing and punch through the line. Once he’d shattered the mercenary formation, he’d just hunt down the rest of her troops.
He reviewed his plans over and over again and still could see no flaw. He knew no plan survived contact with the enemy, but that was true for his opponent, too. Sitting there high in the cockpit of his Daishi as his troops began their ascent into the foothills, he sought to banish the last of his doubt about how things would go, but found that doubt quite tenacious.
It is all Alaric’s fault. Alaric had poisoned his mind by suggesting that Anastasia had let Donovan win on Unukalhai. He said she’d blown the bridge herself, then declined battle. He said it was because she wanted to lure Donovan into thinking she was stupid or cowardly, and that he would pay for making such assumptions.
The problem for Donovan was that Anastasia’s actions did not add up. She had deployed for battle. It would have been a fierce fight, but an even one—much like the fight would be in the heights above. Granted, he’d had the advantage initially, but her flanking movement would have hurt him. He did acknowledge that his positioning had been very weak in that regard, but he had a whole Trinary in reserve to protect his flanks.
A light burned on his communications console and he punched it. “Donovan here. Report.”
“Carolyn, Task Force Askani reporting. We are three klicks out from the Rangers’ base. We have contact to the southeast. They are waiting for us.”
“Very good. Engage.”
“As ordered, out.”
Another light began to blink and he hit that. “Go ahead, Star Captain, report.”
“Star Colonel, I have multiple contacts to the north of your position coming around the mountain.” The elemental Star he’d deployed to monitor radio frequencies had found something. “Readings are incomplete, but would be consistent with a vehicular convoy.”
Donovan smiled to himself. The mercenary had tried the same flanking maneuver a second time. “Very good, Star Captain. Shift over to Tactical three and let Star Captain Abigail know what you found. She will dispatch a ’Mech Star to head them off.”
“As ordered.”
Donovan nodded and threaded his way up an evening-shaded pass toward a large plateau. He followed a Man-O’-War and had a Vulture and a pair of Ryokens coming in his wake. Five hundred meters to either side the other two Stars of Alpha Trinary converged on the same position, and to the south came the remaining two Stars of Bravo Trinary.
Carolyn from the Askani task force radioed in again. “False contact. We ran across the Rangers’ live-fire training range. They had the sensors lit up. We banged some metal, then pulled back. We are converging on their base now. I have it in visual.”
“Very good.”
“This is odd.” She hesitated. “Star Colonel, the base is open and lit. The gates are open and there are sentries posted there—infantry who are lounging in chairs. Here is the feed.”
Donovan hit a couple of keys and directed the incoming videos to a secondary monitor. The bases’ gates, which were tall and wide enough to handle four BattleMechs walking abreast, stood wide open. The gunnery turrets appeared unmanned. The two sentries, who appeared as glowing blobs on the infrared scan, didn’t seem to have a care in the world.
“Star Captain, is one of those men playing a guitar?”
“It would appear so, sir.”
Donovan shivered. “And you see no BattleMechs anywhere?”
“No, sir. The base is empty and the road into the factory and warehouse district appears open.”
“Be very careful, Star Captain. They just want you to think it is open.” Donovan thought. “That is an industrial area. It will have tunnels. You will have to clear and secure, block by block.”
“It is a big area, sir. If I tie my people down like that . . .”
“Yes, yes, of course. And you can’t bypass the base, as the Rangers may be hiding there. In fact, the live-fire range may have just been a screen for dug-in positions.”
“What should I do, sir?”
“Secure your position. Have a Star cover the range, then begin a sweep of the base. Keep me informed.”
“As ordered, sir.”
Donovan’s Daishi topped the rise and entered the western edge of the plateau. His other two Stars came up on the right and left, so the ’Mechs spread out in a line to cover each o
ther and began their advance. A kilometer and a half farther forward, the plateau began to narrow into a valley that ran up to the next plateau, and that was where, he was fairly certain, he would find the Wolf Hunters. His Bravo Trinary’s two Stars would reach the plateau by another route and their coordinated attack would destroy the mercenaries.
Star Captain Abigail reported in. “We have more contacts coming in south of your position. The Star I have to the north has not found anything, but is still searching.”
“What is south?”
“’Mechs, six or eight.”
“BattleMechs or the industrial conversions?”
“Contacts are intermittent so I do not know. Do I dispatch a Star?”
“Yes. Close, identify, engage.”
“As ordered.”
Donovan frowned, then keyed the radio to the elementals frequency. “Star Captain Lloyd, report contacts.”
“Intermittent, sir. Harrison is fine-tuning the scanners. He says the signals are military, but not strong enough for military equipment.”
And they should be running on radio silence anyway. “I need visual confirmation immediately. I want you out on a hunter/killer mission. Find the contacts, destroy them.”
“Yes, sir, as ordered.”
Off to the south, right where a Ryoken raised its left arm to acknowledge linking up with Alpha Star, something flashed. Staccato pulses of light repeated—five, ten, fifteen, twenty—and started up elsewhere from the hills rimming the plateau. Missile carriers, dug in on the reverse slope, with spotters.
Hundreds of missiles rained down, filling the evening sky with fiery arcs that ended in explosions. The Ryoken that had signaled the link-up danced in a bonfire as missile barrages converged on it. Though range and indirect fire made accuracy iffy, the law of averages dictated that the ’Mech would get hit. Missiles crushed armor, crumbling it into shards of ferroceramics that cascaded to the ground.
In an instant all of Donovan’s calculations underwent revision. The sensor data from the north was a feint, likely with passenger vehicles and trucks broadcasting signals that mimicked those of military machinery. There was no flanking movement coming from the north. Likely the readings from the south were the same, or coming from industrial conversions. Anastasia had concentrated her troops here, and would continue to hit him harder and harder as the valley narrowed.
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