Something clicked in the back of Phelan's mind. "Natasha, that looks very much like the 'Mech type Vlad was piloting when he captured me."
"You've got good eyes. It's the very same. After repairs, of course."
Phelan gasped in surprise. "You dispossessed him?"
"Rank hath its privileges." Natasha's warm, throaty laughter filled his neurohelmet. "Vlad only had this Timber Wolf for the expeditionary force anyway. In the real fighting, he used another Omni that fit better with his Star's make-up."
She brought her 'Mech to a stop at the targeting range's firing line. Bringing the Kit Fox alongside her, Phelan studied the range. He immediately punched up double magnification on his vislight scan. "I mark targets out at 300 meters.
I know these weapons can do it because I saw Vlad take out some targets at this range and beyond."
"I've reviewed his battlerom, so I know what he did. I want you to shoot the nearest target. Use the medium lasers. You've still not seen everything an Omni has to offer."
Phelan dropped both crosshairs onto the ragged ferrocrete dolmen the computer marked at 305 meters. When the computer had a target lock, a gold dot pulsed in the center of the crosshairs. Flicking a glance at his control panel, Phelan saw the medium lasers were controlled by the joystick's trigger. He tightened his fingers down on them.
Used as he was to lasers that produced one sustained beam of coherent light, the Omni's weapons surprised him. Each medium laser spat out a series of micropulsed bolts that peppered the target with laser fire. Whereas normal lasers often slashed a trench through a target's armor as the target moved, this weapon chewed away at one spot, with the computer making small corrections in targeting to keep the bolts following one after the other.
"Sonovabitch! What the hell is this?"
Natasha laughed heartily. "Your medium lasers are Kolibri Pulse lasers. The problem with straight-beam lasers is that the material they vaporize helps diffuse the beam, lessening their damage. The pulses allow for vaporized material to disperse, increasing the ability to hit. The rapid cycling makes the weapon run hotter, but the higher damage potential is worth it."
"I'll say." Phelan smiled proudly. "Damn, it feels good to be back in a 'Mech. I wish Ranna could see me in this thing."
"She can."
Natasha's remark coincided with another Kit Fox moving from behind a low hill approximately 450 meters to Phelan's right. It appeared just beyond the bar that marked the edge of his firing arc, and brought up an arm that ended in the muzzle of an autocannon. Phelan saw a flash, then felt his 'Mech rock with the impact of a volley. He fought to control it and kept the machine upright. Still, before he could bring his machine around, the other Kit Fox vanished.
"My God, she's using live ordnance! Is she crazy?"
All levity dropped from Natasha's voice. "No, she's just doing her job. I told you before. Simulators are for kids. Her shells are underpowered, just as are your lasers. That goes for the other two Foxes hunting you out there."
Phelan swallowed hard as the computer assessed the damage to his armor. "That stuff may be down-powered, but it still ripped up some armor. This is just a training exercise."
"You'll have to watch your step because you can get killed out here. That's the problem with simulator combat. Even if you screw up, you get another chance. But a real battle never offers that sort of mercy."
"But Natasha, that's crazy. Think about how many perfectly good MechWarriors you must lose in these live-fire exercises."
The tone of her reply was cold, but Phelan sensed that the anger was not directed against him. "Good, perhaps, but not perfect. And that's what we aim for. Son, sibkos start out with a hundred or more children, but by the time the majority reach your age, they're down to thirty or less. Some die and some just leave the sibko. I don't know if it's right, but that's the way it's done."
She continued on, a trace of anxiety seeming to edge her words. "The breeding programs keep producing better and better warriors, but sometimes I wonder if it makes that much difference. By the time you're ready to test out, I guess we'll both learn the answer to that question."
Phelan shook his head. 'The only answer we can accept is that, no, it cannot make that much difference."
"Maybe that's it, Phelan. What we'd have to prove is that someone who's been trained in a different system can match the Clans' best, and that one of the best from long ago is still damned good."
"I'll take one half of the assignment if you'll take the other."
"Bargained well and done." The fire returned to Natasha's voice. "And watch your contractions. You youngsters should really speak well, you know."
"I hear and obey." Phelan turned his 'Mech from the firing line. "You fighting in this exercise, or just along for the ride?"
"Today I am an observer."
"Then out of my way." Phelan wiped his perspiring hands on his cooling vest, then took hold of the joysticks again. "The odds are not quite to my liking, but I have never backed down from a fight. Let us see if your people are really as hot as they think."
* * *
Natasha watched the mechanical figures move across the quartet of screens without actually seeing anything. My God, they all move so flawlessly. Have the sibkos really come this far in the time I've been away? A slight chill ran over her and suddenly she began to feel her true age. The long decades of battles, death, and destruction descended upon her with all the weight of a DropShip.
"Natasha?"
Ulric's voice snapped her out of her dark thoughts. "My Khan." She blinked her eyes, then reached out and touched a button on the console, freezing the four images. Using another dial, she slowly brought the room's lights up, but not too bright. "I have been reviewing the battleroms for Phelan's first training run."
The Khan stroked his goatee. "And?"
"And I think the sibkos have done superior work turning out well-trained and disciplined MechWarriors."
"Indeed." Ulric gave her a small smile, as if to say he'd anticipated her answer. "How would you say Phelan Wolf stacks up against them?"
Natasha allowed herself a wry grin of her own. "He's rough around the edges, though I imagine that's more from inactivity than lack of skill or training. Our MechWarriors can outshoot him now, but that advantage won't last long once he gets used to the new weaponry. If Phelan had been in a 'Mech the equal of Vlad's, he'd never have been captured on The Rock. We both know that."
Ulric dismissed her statement with a quick wave of the hand. "Hypothetical. Will he be able to test out in four months, Quiaff?"
"I believe so."
"And will you?"
Ulric's question squeezed Natasha's heart. "Excuse me?"
"You needed to study those battleroms only once to come up with your assessment of Phelan's performance, Quiaff? I saw his talent right away, as did Cyrilla. I must therefore assume that your continued review was an attempt to assess the skill level of those against whom Phelan fought. I also assume that you were measuring them against yourself."
"I appreciate your concern, Ulric, but how can the fate of one MechWarrior be so important to you?"
"You would be surprised, Natasha, at the importance I attach to you and Phelan." He folded his arms across his chest. "In your case, my political opponents are opposed even to allowing you to test out as a warrior at your age. Of course, if you fail, I will simply tell them that courtesy demanded I permit you to try."
"How convenient."
"Your victory would help to demonstrate their pitiful shortsightedness. If you do, indeed, test out, I will need to know in advance in order to make the most of the opportunity."
Ulric's voice became less confrontational as he explained himself, but still Natasha felt as though he had her under an electron microscope. "You wear a Khan's mask well, Ulric. You do the House of Kerensky proud."
"Coming from you that is most welcome praise." He turned to face the bank of monitors. "So, is the Black Widow still as deadly as ever?"
Natasha's blue eyes narr
owed into a killing glare, but Ulric did not notice. "As you know," she said, "Black Widows only kill their mates, not their offspring." She stabbed a finger at the monitor that contained Ranna's battle ROM image. "Ranna is very good. The others are adequate, which is to say better than the standards set forth by the Successor States."
"You avoid my question," Ulric said sternly.
Always probing, always searching. You are, indeed, a Khan. Natasha shook her head. "Not avoiding, my Khan, merely considering my answer. Watching their performance in a training exercise, I can judge them only as a spectator. I cannot say how they would perform in battle against me, and that is what you are asking me. Would I control the battle and force them into foolish moves? If so, all the training in the world would mean nothing. I would own them."
"So you need more input before you can answer, Quiaff?"'
"Aff." Natasha felt her stomach twist into a knot. Being a MechWarrior is not all reflexes and youth. Experience counts for more than the Clans have ever admitted. This I know to be true.
She looked up and saw Ulric staring at her. She had to force a thin smile. "Have no fear, my Khan. I will test out."
Or I will die in the attempt.
11
Wolf's Dragoons General Headquarters, Outreach
Sarna March, Federated Commonwealth
6 April 3051
Kai Allard-Liao smiled as his mother smoothed the shoulder of his uniform jacket with a loving caress. "Don't worry, mother. Nothing can go wrong."
Candace dropped her hand from his arm as a fleeting sadness showed briefly in her gray eyes. "You say that so easily, but your aunt is more than capable of causing trouble. It is she who has demanded that you testify before this council of leaders. I can't help but believe she has something nasty up her sleeve."
Justin reached out with his good right hand to give his wife's shoulder a squeeze. "Beloved, try not to ascribe to maliciousness what can better be explained by stupidity."
The ripple of laughter from all three Allards filled the room. Kai felt especially good to see his parents together and somewhat relaxed. Within the pressure cooker that Outreach had become, his little free time seldom seemed to coincide with theirs.
Kai took his mother's hands in his own. "Don't worry. I am ready for anything Romano will throw at me." And I won't embarrass you. "I trust Colonel Wolf to keep things in line."
Glancing at his father, he added, "Besides, Father could always just shoot her!"
Justin snorted a laugh, then shook his head. "Now you know why I sit on your mother's left in these councils. She can't get her hands on my left arm."
"This is not as funny as it seems to be to you." Candace's expression tightened, but her eyes blazed fire. "From a military view point, Romano may be virtually impotent, but she is hardly powerless. Indeed, I consider her one of the most dangerous women alive."
Her gray gaze flicked to Justin's black-steel hand. "And as for using that on Romano, I would not. Not here, not now. But if she ever strikes at one of you or the twins or Quint, even death itself will not keep me from avenging you."
Kai felt an abrupt shift in his father's mood. "As in everything else, my love, I gladly share with you this vow." He gave Candace a hug, then steered her toward the door of their chamber. "We'll see you in the Council, Kai. Just be yourself and nothing will go wrong. We love you, and I doubt there are any prouder parents anywhere in the Successor States."
* * *
Kai tugged at the waist of his dress gray jacket as he seated himself to one side of Jaime Wolf's podium. He glanced over to his left and flashed his mother and father a nervous grin. Beyond them and seated all around the semi-circle, he saw the royalty of the Federated Commonwealth, the Free Worlds League, the Free Rasalhague Republic, the Draconis Combine, and the Capellan Confederation gathered to hear him speak, but he noted that none of the other young royals had chosen to attend. He hardly blamed them for wanting to spend their free time elsewhere.
Jaime Wolf nodded in Kai's direction. "I regret taking up your free morning this way, Leftenant Allard-Liao. We have all read the report you wrote after the incident on Twycross. For myself, I found it an insightful, concise, clearly written document. This judgement is not shared by all those gathered here, however, which is the reason we are asking you to answer questions that may further enlighten some of us."
Wolf made no attempt to hide his displeasure at having to devote time to this meeting, when so many other matters were pressing. From what his parents had said, Kai knew that Romano had instigated the whole circus. Glancing over at his aunt, Kai felt ice creep into his bowels. The nasty look in her eyes told him she would show him no mercy.
"Thank you, Colonel Wolf." Kai bowed his head politely. "I wish to be of service."
"Good." Wolf looked out over the ruling families. "Well, then, Leftenant, perhaps you will begin with what happened on the planet Twycross on 10 September of last year."
Kai nodded, as his thoughts wound back in time. At first, the words came slowly. "The Tenth Lyran Guard was involved in an operation intended to liberate Twycross. We believed that the Clans—in this case, the Jade Falcons—had moved all their line units from the planet. We thought that by striking at a world behind their lines, we would face only garrison troops. If we succeeded in taking the world, we could slow their advance because it would mean they had to pull line troops to hunt us down.
"On Twycross, we set up our position in a place that offered us maximum cover and reduced the battle to the closer ranges that favor us over the Clans. The weak point in this position was a mountain pass known as the Great Gash. Our troops placed explosives at the highest point in the pass, and we had a company of 'Mechs down at the westernmost end. We believed the enemy had no troops to send through the Gash, but we were taking no chances. Because of a storm in the area, however, radio contact was poor, so we did not have a full grasp of what was happening at the far end of the Gash when our troops met the Clans on our chosen battlefield."
"So, Leftenant, at some point early on, Victor Davion dispatched your lance to check on the Gash?" Wolf's encouraging smile eased some of the tightness in Kai's chest.
"Yes, sir. He instructed me to go to sector 0227. We had a landline there at the field hospital. Victor told me to use it to communicate to him what was happening. I ..."
Kai faltered. Through the far doors, a trooper in Dragoons uniform was leading a visitor to a seat in the observers' gallery. The visitor wore a uniform similar to Kai's, but her clothing bore no rank insignia. He recognized her short black hair and though he could not see the color of her eyes from here, he knew her gaze was polar blue. What is she doing here?
Kai recovered himself after only a moment's silence. "... I discovered sector 0227 under attack by Toads—ah, the Clans Armored Infantry, what you have called Elementals. I defeated the half-dozen operating in the canyon and ordered an evacuation of the hospital and all the personnel."
"Excuse me," Romano purred, "but did you not also order some men back into the Gash area to detonate the explosives?"
Kai struggled to keep his voice from trembling. "Yes, I did."
"Knowing, as you did, the capabilities of the Toads, you must have sent only men armed with weapons able to defend them against assault by the Toads." Romano's statement stabbed at his heart like a dagger, "I mean, to do otherwise would have been ordering those men to their deaths. Such an action would be very irresponsible, wouldn't it, Leftenant?"
Kai swallowed hard. "Yes, Madam Chancellor, it would be irresponsible." He raised his head and tried to return her stony gaze with calm. "I accept that their blood is on my hands. I made a mistake, which I cannot undo. I can only vow never to repeat such a mistake."
Romano's lids lowered like a tigress lying patiently, waiting for the right moment to strike. "You made a mistake? Is that how you classify sending men to their death? A mistake? What kind of twisted philosophy pervades the Federated Commonwealth military to permit you to make such a statement
?"
"Madam Chancellor," Wolf interrupted sharply, "your questions are far from the subject of our inquiry here."
"I do not ..."
"Enough!" Wolf snapped. The irritation drained from the Colonel's face as he returned his gaze to Kai. "After the evacuation had begun, you engaged more Toads. In the course of your battle with them, what happened?"
"I fought with the Toads—at least two dozen of them— and forced them back through the Gash to the highest point of the pass. Once there, I saw a reinforced battalion of Clan 'Mechs. These were front-line units—what you said were called OmniMechs—that we thought had left the planet. Because radio communication was impossible, I knew that the only way to stop them from pouring through the Gash and falling on our troops was to seal the pass."
Kai's gaze flicked up toward the woman in the visitors' gallery. "I challenged the Clansmen to single combat, then instructed Dr. Deirdre Lear—my unwilling passenger—to pull the circuits that controlled the magnetic containment shielding for my fusion engine. As the first 'Mech engaged me, I ejected. The fusion engine explosion triggered the pentaglycerine we'd used to mine the Gash."
Kai hesitated as he relived that moment of boulders smashing down and burying enemy 'Mechs. "The Hatchetman's ejection pod carried the doctor and myself to safety, while those Clan 'Mechs were destroyed." Kai's hands tightened into fists, then opened again. "I had no choice."
Romano stood abruptly. "You had no choice? You make it sound as though you were dispatching a rabid dog, not facing fellow MechWarriors. They deserved the honor of the combat you offered them. You could have met them and defeated them honestly, but you resorted to treachery instead. Have you no honor?"
Hanse Davion's fist slammed into his table. "Colonel Wolf, once again I see my esteemed colleague from the Capellan Confederation conducting a personal vendetta against her sister in our councils. This time, however, she directs her attacks against a surrogate who does not deserve it. I would request you to admonish her again to keep her remarks to the subject at hand. Criticizing a man for a decision—one I believe was correct—made in the thick of battle is not our purpose here."
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