Without waiting for her answer, Sun-Tzu went on. "Now, if you happen to be wrong .. ." He held up a hand to forestall any immediate defense. "Humor me, please, my lady. As I said, if you happen to be wrong, you lose everything I have promised and you alert those who do work against you."
"And when did you promise the murder of demi-Precentor Jamie Nicholas?"
With senses honed by over twenty years of ruling the Magistracy of Canopus, Emma searched the Liao's face for any reaction. Seeing how little he'd been able to hide his reactions thus far, she expected to glimpse some mix of anger, desperation, and surprise. But it was the complete lack of expression that convinced her of his involvement. That his face could remain so impassive at her accusation also made her question earlier appraisals of his character. "Word of Blake claims to have recovered her body, killed by a needler, and that she was last known to be on her way to visit you with dispatches."
The calm neutrality of Sun-Tzu's expression never wavered. "That would be a matter between the Word of Blake and myself," he said simply, giving nothing away.
"That is the same as admitting to it, Sun-Tzu. Jamie Nicholas was an advisor to my court and under the protection of the Magistracy."
He smiled cruelly. "And the ComStar acolytes that Word of Blake killed on Harminous? Were they any less under your protection? I believe you allowed them to claim—what was it?—internal politics not relating to the Magistracy? Very well. I make the same claim and am willing to pay a similar restitution." His face suddenly recovered its animation, brightening in a parody of a child with a brilliant thought. "In fact, I shall pay you in political coin."
Whatever he is about to propose, deny him. Emma Centrella felt at a loss, suddenly unsure if she was reading Sun-Tzu correctly—or if she ever had. A glance at Naomi convinced Emma that her daughter, too, sensed danger. "And what would that be, Sun-Tzu?" The familiar use of his name didn't seem to carry quite the insult it had at first.
"I shall discover for you exactly who is behind the arms shipments to the Marian Hegemony."
Emma was about to decline angrily when a hand on her arm stopped her. Naomi moved up beside her mother. "How would you propose to do this, Chancellor Liao?"
Despite a slight surge of annoyance at Naomi's sudden entry into the conversation, Emma admired the way her daughter deftly returned the tone to more formal ground. The Magestrix looked to Sun-Tzu, whose gaze had never moved from her face, and nodded once.
"What I propose is to help you invade the Free Worlds League," he said simply.
If not for the gentle pressure of Naomi's hand still on her arm, Emma would have laughed in the young man's face. It seemed that Romano Liao's madness had indeed been passed down to both her children. Seemed. But Emma had learned to trust her daughter's instincts. Naomi might not be much of a warrior, but her political acumen rivaled Emma's own.
Naomi smiled encouragement. "And why would we want to do that, Chancellor?"
"Because the proof you're looking for might not be found on Astrokaszy, but it will be found on Campoleone. Astrokaszy will be the supply point, and you might be able to disrupt the flow of arms into the Hegemony, but there will be little or nothing to connect it back to the source. So the weapons will just be rerouted. At least"— his smile was cunning—"that's how I would do it. Double-blind."
"If we invade Campoleone," Emma said, “Thomas Marik will have to retaliate whether or not he's the one supplying weapons to the Hegemony."
"You're right, he would be forced to retaliate and forced to seek a military solution." Sun-Tzu shrugged, but Emma did not miss his momentary frown. "But against me he could find other means of—he paused— "reprisal."
Yes, he would finally have a reason to break off your engagement to Isis Marik. That's quite a gamble. Was Sun-Tzu telling the truth? "So you would take your troops into Campoleone, and we are to trust you to report back what is truly happening?"
"No, I would lend your troops to Astrokaszy first. What you need may be there. If not, I will take them Over the border to Campoleone under the flag of the Capellan Confederation. Consider this a trial use of Magistracy troops under my command."
Naomi bit down on her lower lip and frowned. "It might work," she said to her mother. "By assigning our troops into his care, the Chancellor would bear responsibility for their actions and conduct. If our troops will follow him, that is."
"They would not have to follow Sun-Tzu," Emma said, correcting the one flaw in Naomi's thought. “They would have to follow their commander, who would report to Chancellor Liao." Emma seemed not to notice her own return to addressing Sun-Tzu by title. This could amount to political suicide for Sun-Tzu; he must be awfully sure of himself. And it releases me from direct responsibility. How could any Periphery state turn down such an offer? “That is how your Capellan Warrior Houses work, is it not?"
"Close enough," Sun-Tzu said. He bent his head to breathe in the sweet scent of a blood-red orchid he'd plucked as they walked, then offered the bloom to Naomi before turning again to Emma. “The commander should possess a strong relationship to your house, so your troops will feel they are maintaining ties to their nation. Also, this commander should be capable of taking control of the forces in case it becomes clear that I am acting against the interest of the Magistracy."
Emma smiled thinly. He could have only one person in mind. And though Naomi's qualifications as a warrior were borderline-average, her daughter could indeed retain some amount of independence and make the decision to break off from San-Tzu's plans. "I am not approving this mission yet, Chancellor. But I would be interested in hearing which Canopus officer you would have at your side."
But Sun-Tzu surprised her again. With a quick look of regret at Naomi, he said, "I would think Danai Centrella the only logical choice. She could command a battalion, which is more than large enough and she is a skilled warrior. She would not be dependent on me and my command lance for direction."
And you deprive me of my heir-apparent. Not a bad play. Emma ignored the pained expression on Naomi's face and mentally organized her conditions. You are once again reaching too far, Sun-Tzu Liao. I promised I would make you pay again for your presumption. "You will use Magistracy JumpShip and DropShip assets, except for your own Lung Wang Class DropShip, of course. Danai is to retain complete autonomy." She smiled, remembering that thorny clause in the contract with Avanti's Angels. "Your command lance will be further augmented by a liaison officer and her lance." And with that many applying a direct brake on you, your command of the unit is honorary only. We will use your authority to get over the border if necessary, but there will be no illusion that anyone besides Danai is in command of the Magistracy troops.
Sun-Tzu nodded reluctantly. "I would suggest one minor alteration, Magestrix."
"And that is, Chancellor?"
"That we still use the Celestial Walker. Its lithium-fusion batteries give it twice the range of your normal JumpShips. I believe you have several recharge stations that would allow us to proceed to the border of the Magistracy rather quickly. By then, you could have two MAF JumpShips in place that would get us to Astrokaszy in an abbreviated command circuit."
Emma Centrella considered the wisdom of rapid movement against allowing Sun-Tzu access to his people for any longer than necessary. "Agreed," she finally said. "Provided you take up a Canopus crew that verifies all ship movements."
"Why, Magestrix, one would think you did not trust me." Sun-Tzu chuckled dryly. "And who is my liaison officer to be? I would like to meet her as soon as possible."
"You have already met her, Chancellor," Emma said with a smile. "Naomi will also accompany this expedition."
Sun-Tzu visibly balked, but then recovered. "As you desire, of course."
Yes, Sun-Tzu. I place my two eldest daughters in your care. Both serve to benefit. Naomi is an accomplished diplomat, but she may learn more of the ways of command. Danai would just as soon spit in your face, but perhaps even she will learn something of politics. Meanwhile, both of
them can serve as your keepers. And if harm were to befall either one, you would bear responsibility for that as well. Meanwhile, I will have your technicians and your trainers and your "gift" of Inner Sphere OmniMechs—and several months to learn what I can at no further cost to my realm.
And that is the proper way to conduct business.
BOOK III
"One who has few must prepare against the enemy; one who has many makes the enemy prepare against him."
—Sun Tzu, The Art of War
I go to war only when I am ready."
—from an interview with Chancellor Sun-Tzu Liao, Sian University Press, 7 October 3057
22
DropShip Heaven Sent
Shervanis Spaceport, Shervanis Caliphate
Astrokaszy
The Periphery
28 June 3058
The loading ramp began to lower from the Heaven Sent's main 'Mech bay down onto the pale golden sand of the Shervanis Spaceport. Marcus stood just inside the bay doors, out of the harsh sunlight but still awash in the heat that rose off the sand like a never-ending power spike from a 'Mech's fusion engine. Sweat beaded over his skin and soaked his clothing. And I thought the Marantha tarmac was hot?
Half a kilometer to the east, directly opposite where he stood, the city of Shervanis sat squat and ugly. It was Astrokaszy's largest city, but looked like little more than a kilometers-wide sprawl of light-colored adobe buildings and dark, narrow streets. To the south, just visible past the edge of the bay doors, Marcus could see the barren foothills that he knew from maps would turn quickly into the badlands. A five-kilometer wide strip of broken rock and treacherous ravines, the badlands were all that separated the sandy plains of the Shervanis Caliphate from the actual Shaharazad Desert.
Halfway between the outskirts of the city and the Drop-Ship a small Caravan approached, dozens of dark-skinned servants stooping under the weight of six canopied litters.
Marcus divided his attention between gazing out over the city and watching the caravan as he formed his first impressions of Astrokaszy.
Desolate, devastated, and dismal were the words that leapt to mind.
The trip from Marantha to Astrokaszy had come off almost without a hitch. Dorian Anastius, captain of the Canopus Merchant Class JumpShip Marathon, knew his trade. Or, better said, knew his trade routes. Even with such a remote destination as Astrokaszy, the seasoned spacer knew just how far to reach in a single hyperspace jump and what star systems offered the fastest recharge times along the way. Preparing to jump from the Marantha system with both the Heaven Sent and the Head of a Pin in tow on the twenty-ninth of May, Captain Anastius had promised Marcus a trip of four weeks, no more. And that would include the eight days it would take the DropShips to travel insystem from jump point to the actual surface of Astrokaszy.
If not for an unexpected glitch, the Marathon would have made it on the nose. As it was, she only missed it by two days.
Preparing for the third and final jump, the Marathon had developed a problem with the equipment used to reel in the ship's enormous jump sail. A JumpShip unfurled its sail to collect the solar energy needed to recharge the Kearny-Fuchida jump drive, and no captain would simply abandon a sail without very good cause. It had cost them four days of station-keeping to repair the equipment and untangle the sail's fouled lines. Hoping to redeem himself, Captain Anastius then jumped into the Astrokaszy system at a pirate point that shaved two days off the usual eight for the inbound trip.
The power wielded by a Mech Warrior vanished during space transport, when he or she had to place life and equipment in the hands of others. MechWarriors prefer fast transport, Marcus thought, staring out at the inhospitable landscape, even to a place as desolate as this.
From orbit Jericho had pointed out the Shaharazad Desert, a dry ocean of sun-blasted plains, badlands, and rolling dunes that ringed the planet's equator and stretched over five thousand kilometers wide north-to-south at any point. It seemed no life could hope to survive in this dun-yellow wasteland. But here, as on hundreds of worlds throughout the Inner Sphere and Periphery, humans had made their niche. Cities and villages existed along the northern and southern borders of the Sha-harazad, where the mean temperature was bearable and the world's scarce fresh-water resources surfaced in oasis-like pools and a few pitiful rivers. The two dozen or so larger cities, those with ample fresh water even in times of drought elsewhere, were seats of power and each was governed by a caliph—a self-styled supreme ruler.
According to MAF information, these petty tyrants laid claim to nearby villages and large sections of desert, calling them caliphates. But their true power usually stopped at the city's edge. Villagers paid tribute and token allegiance to whichever caliph currently had warriors stationed in their village, subject to constant change as the caliphs raided each other's realms and conducted sporadic invasions that actually did little in the way of changing borders. It reminded Marcus of the disputes between the Great Houses of the Inner Sphere. Though they'd been warring for supremacy for almost three hundred years, their borders had remained fundamentally unchanged until the recent Clan invasion and the troubles in the Chaos March.
As for the desert, if anyone truly ruled the Shaharazad it was the sheiks and their nomadic tribes.
The caravan Marcus had been watching halted now at the foot of the DropShip ramp. Six canopy-covered litters were carried by eight slaves each, five empty and one with a single occupant. Two guards armed with automatic rifles flanked each litter. The guards wore caftans, flowing light-colored robes that helped protect them from the sun. The slaves wore only simple gray cotton shifts, their dark skin blistered along shoulders and arms and feet. They were fettered to one another about the ankles. A revulsion gnawed at Marcus' insides, and the sound of rattling chains grated against his nerves.
"Remember, we aren't here to buck the local customs," Jericho said in a stage-whisper as she moved up alongside him. With her were Ki-Lynn Tanaga and Thomas Faber. Jase Torgensson, fully recovered from his ordeal in the Free Worlds League and looking as polished as ever, hung back from the others, as always preferring his own bit of personal space.
Marcus nodded once as he watched a lone figure dismount the litter and approach the ship. Jericho had warned them to expect slavery, among other barbaric practices. Now was not the time to begin a crusade. "But it does make me question accepting this Shervanis' hospitality," he whispered back.
Caliph Malachye Shervanis had transmitted his greetings as the Angels' DropShips entered orbit, extending an invitation to visit his grand city that they might pay their respects. It surprised everyone, mercenary and MAF alike, as no one had suspected that anyone on Astrokaszy possessed technology advanced enough for ground-to-ship communications. For a moment Marcus had wondered if this was their quarry giving itself away through the use of advanced equipment, but the another dozen such invitations from rival caliphs quickly followed. One of them, from a Caliph Rashier, had even included a thinly disguised bribe, an offer of a "one-day garrison fee" if the Angels would join him for dinner and discussion.
The Angels also learned that Word of Blake operated a small communications facility on the outskirts of Shervanis. "Why not? They're everywhere else these days," had been Jericho's comment. Marcus noted silently that Word of Blake seemed to be showing a lot more interest in the Periphery than ComStar ever had.
The Shervanis family, descendants of the planet's earliest settlers, had traditionally wielded much power on Astrokaszy. The Angels had to begin somewhere with their search for evidence of weapons smuggling and a possible raider staging area, and so they decided that meeting Malachye Shervanis was a good place to start. His caliphate was supposed to be one of the more enlightened ones on Astrokaszy. Besides that, the Word of Blake presence in his city would give the mercenaries immediate communication back,to the Magistracy and, if necessary, the Blakists could mediate between the Angels and Shervanis.
But Marcus had also been warned that no caliph could be wholly tru
sted. They continually fought one another and occasionally the desert sheiks for dominance, quick to exploit any advantage. With the arrival of a strengthened mercenary company on the planet, Jericho had predicted that Marcus would receive offers of employment from every caliph and, failing that, threats. Marcus had brought Jericho, Ki-Lynn, Jase, and Thomas down with him in the Heaven Sent; while Jericho's lance and the rest of the Angels transferred to the Pinhead and remained in orbit as a deterrent under the command of Charlene Boske. The MAF reports provided by Major Wood numbered Caliph Shervanis' personal army at two lances of poorly equipped BattleMechs. No matter how beaten up the Pinhead was, a Fortress Class DropShip could level the caliph's entire city. So, with Jericho abandoning her MAF uniform for more appropriate mercenary dress, the five accepted an invitation into what could be the enemy's den.
Marcus stepped out into the sunlight to greet Caliph -Shervanis' representative. The man was dressed in formal robes, heavy silks and other weaves Marcus couldn't identify, all elaborately embroidered with golden thread. As if in defiance of the world's harsh sun, the man wore no headdress and had his head shaved smooth. His dark brown skin glistened under a thin layer of sweat. He stopped several paces short of Marcus and bowed slightly, hands held in front of him and touching fingertip to fingertip. Uncertain, Marcus imitated the gesture.
"I am Arch Vizier Ji-Drohmien," the man said, his accent heavily rolling the r's, "the Exalted One's personal advisor and"—he smiled thinly—"right hand."
Wondering at the hidden humor in those last words, Marcus ushered the man up into the shade of the 'Mech bay. "Marcus GioAvanti, commander of Avanti's Angels."
The other man's sharp eyes swept the bay, pausing only an instant over each of the five BattleMechs. "Beautiful machines, Commander. And the rest of your company?"
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