Once more, Loren was surprised that this was how MacLeod would deal with rebel troops, but said nothing.
"And the Consul Guards, sir?" the gray-haired Captain asked.
MacLeod leaned forward, his expression stern and angry. 'Teach them what it means to fight the Northwind Highlanders." His voice left no doubt in anyone's mind about what he meant. "We deploy in one hour, gentlemen. Major Jaffray, your assistance has been valuable thus far. With war breaking out around us, there's little chance of you linking back up with your Commandos. What would you say to joining us in this?
"Nothing would please me more than having a Jaffray in my ranks again. I've got a place for you with the regimental command's Security Lance if you're interested."
Loren felt a blush rise to his face. This was a moment that his grandfather would have given anything to see, the return of the Jaffray clan to the ranks of his former unit. Now it was happening, but in a way Corwin Jaffray could never have envisioned.
"I would be honored to accept your generous offer, Colonel. But ..."
"What is it, lad? That you don't have a BattleMech? You can use my Gallowglas. She's a fine machine."
No, it wasn't the lack of a 'Mech that bothered him. To leap at the offer would make some of them wonder about him, and Loren knew that. "Sir, I've already overstepped my bounds for this mission. For me to fight with the Highlanders would be a thrill, but my oath is with the Capellan Confederation and to serve the Chancellor. I could be labeled as a defector, traitor, or worse by my own people if I went into combat with you." Loren spoke the words for MacLeod's benefit, not is own. The Chancellor had told him that he must sacrifice even his personal honor to the success of the mission. He knew the Highlanders would never trust him if he didn't raise some objection.
MacLeod grinned and laid one hand on Loren's shoulder. "I doubt that any court in the Inner Sphere will convict you, Major. Any hopes you had of staying out of this fight were destroyed by our esteemed Consul Burns. And, in case you've forgotten, the Capellans have just started a war against the very people you're going to be fighting."
Loren nodded and smiled. The formalities accounted for, it was now time to do what he did best.
MacLeod shut off the electronic map. "The rest of you, good hunting and good luck." With those final words the Highlander officers quickly dispersed to find their 'Mechs and their men and to get the operation underway.
19
AFFC DropShip Despiser, Pirate Jump Point
.01326184 Northwind System
Draconis March, Federated Commonwealth
24 September 3057
Marshal Harrison Bradford watched out the viewport of his DropShip, The Despiser, as it and the JumpShip to which it was attached emerged at a jump point in the Northwind system. The usual queasiness in his stomach rose and passed quickly as the ship and the rest of the universe materialized around him. The Despiser was a smaller DropShip, a Fury Class assault transport, primarily a carrier of infantry troops and supplies. It was rare that a man like Harrison Bradford, Marshal of an elite Federated Commonwealth Regimental Combat Team, entered battle riding in with the infantry, but he did not consider himself ordinary. His communications with the Federated Suns Command and with his operative on Northwind, Colonel Catelli, indicated that he would be facing a deadly enemy, the Northwind Highlanders. Such a foe demanded special measures. We're not going to let this planet fall to Liao.
The use of a pirate jump point posed a number of risks, but such risks were often necessary. The normal jump points, at the zenith and the nadir of a planetary system, were far outside a planet's gravity wells. Pirate points were much closer to their destination world, but the slightest failure of calculations could mean a possible misjump and the destruction of the ship and everybody on it. This point between Northwind's moon and the planet itself was tricky to navigate, but perfect for getting not just Harrison but his entire fleet onto the surface in record time.
He pressed his wrist communicator. "Marshal Harrison here, Captain Luce."
"Yes, sir," came the voice of The Despiser's captain.
"Begin your scan for the communications satellite. Let me know as soon as you've retrieved the data."
"Incoming now, Marshal. I'll download it to your quarters."
Harrison looked over at the terminal and saw the data file streaming by. He carefully paused the file and read intently. It was, unfortunately, not everything he'd hoped for. Catelli's attempt to embroil the Highlanders in an incident had apparently not gone as planned. All that he'd actually managed to do was splinter the Highlanders. The transmission was eight hours old.
"Captain, disengage from the docking ring and send the JumpShip a transmission. The message is: Lancelot."
"Understood Marshal, code phrase Lancelot. What about the Highlanders' aerospace fighters, sir? I recommend we hold the ship in position until we're sure where they are."
"I've already taken care of their aerospace support, Captain. I'll send you landing coordinates in a few minutes. Your concern is noted, but all you have to do is get us to Northwind in one piece." As The Despiser tugged free from its JumpShip and moved toward the massive globe of Northwind, Bradford Harrison smiled knowingly and sat back in his small bunk.
A diversionary force had been sent to the system's nadir jump point with the task of drawing away the bulk of the Highlanders' aerospace fighter defense. While MacLeod's fighters were chasing down the decoy DropShips, Harrison could drop onto Northwind almost undetected. Thus far everything was going as planned. In a matter of hours, MacLeod's forces would be crippled and ready for the kill.
Bradford glanced out of his viewport long enough to see the dull blue flash as the JumpShip leaped between the stars.
Using its lithium batteries to avoid having to recharge, the ship would meet up with the Third Royals RCT, recharge, and return in time for the battle to come.
Loren's new Gallowglas was operational and in pristine condition, having been spared the earlier fighting at the spaceport. Painted with splashes of dull gray, green, and brown, the 'Mech showed several burn scars on the armor just under the paint, silent testimony to the damage it had endured under MacLeod. The cockpit was similar to that of other Gallowglas types Loren had previously piloted, which would make things easier. How many battles and fights have you been through? he wondered, running a hand over the controls.
The other members of the Security Lance had greeted him warmly, especially Jake Fuller. Loren tried to respond in kind, knowing it was important for them. They would need to know him as something more than a voice in their neurohelmets once the fighting began. If I die, my mission dies with me. I must count on these men and women to make sure I survive.
Following the path of Catelli and Mulvaney's force was turning out to be relatively simple. Given the number of vehicles and BattleMechs wading into the dense forests, they'd cut an incredible swath in the growth. Scanners were not necessary, but Loren made sure he observed every possible detail as they moved through the fallen brush. He was taking nothing for granted, especially the apparent calm and quiet of the forest.
His neurohelmet beeped softly, indicating an incoming message. Loren tapped on the system. "Major Jaffray, this is Command."
Loren was surprised that the Highlanders did not use formal call-signs. Then he realized that their communications routing system worked on voice identification. It was a sophisticated system that used encoded transmissions and voice identification and probably dated back to the high-tech era of the Star League. Only a unit with a history as long as the Highlanders had the access and expertise to maintain such a system.
"Jaffray here. Go, Command."
"Drop back from formation and link up with base." The "base" referenced was the regimental command center, currently a mobile post nearly three kilometers from the Security Lance's position.
"Affirmative," Loren said and saw a light on the communications systems control that indicated Fuller had acknowledged. Loren pulled back on the
throttle and turned the massive Gallowglas around. He wasn't sure what was going on, but it had to be important if they wanted him in person.
It took only four minutes to locate the regimental command post, five command vehicles flanked by a full lance of BattleMechs. Loren found a spot to park the Gallowglas and quickly climbed down the footholds from the cockpit along the torso and leg of the 'Mech. Several Highlander guards emerged from behind trees, weapons at ready, carefully confirming him personally before letting him near the central command vehicle.
Inside the van Loren found Colonel MacLeod, Major Huff, and another female Captain he recognized from the initial standing around the electronic map. Loren made his way toward them through the somewhat darkened interior.
"Glad you could make it," MacLeod said.
"What's going on, Colonel?"
"Nothing in particular. This is just a routine field ops briefing. Those DropShips we spotted at the nadir jump point are finally starting to move, but at a slow-burn. I've diverted most of our aerospace fighters and sent them on intercept to run combat air patrol, per our plan. Then three hours ago another JumpShip materialized at a pirate point near Northwind."
"What's it carrying?"
It was Major Huff who answered. "A Fury Class assault ship."
"An infantry transport? Hell, that's like sending a man with a knife to a gun fight," said the female Captain. Loren remembered her name as Fitzwalther from the Warrior's Cabel. How long ago that night seemed now. Like years, Loren thought.
Huff nodded. "It assumed a quick low orbit and dropped onto Northwind unmolested."
"Where did it drop?"
MacLeod pointed to a spot along the river. "On the banks of the Tilman. One of our few remaining aerolances did a flyby and confirmed it as a Davion ship. It's located just ahead of Catelli and Mulvaney's task force, as if that shocks any of us.
"To be honest I'm not concerned with the ship, but with a bigger question. What if those DropShips we're chasing down at the nadir point are simply decoys? That ship might be only the vanguard of a Davion invasion fleet. Our fighters are already past the pirate point and on their way to the nadir point. Pulling them back is going to cost us time, maybe even cost us the whole battle if Davion is indeed sending reinforcements."
The short female Captain spoke again. "Well, whatever was on that ship, it's just been added to Catelli's force. Even if it was infantry, a hundred troops can still do quite a bit of damage."
"If the nadir fleet is a lure designed to draw off our fighters, we're already too late. To divert our fighters to the pirate point would take too long. And splitting them up would leave both groups too weak to do any damage to any ships they might engage," Huff said. "I think the best course of action is to have them continue on and take those nadir DropShips out."
MacLeod stroked his beard in thought. "What worries me more is that they're using pirate points. If those are Davions, with more on the way, and if they keep using pirate points, they could be on top of us before we could react at all." His worry was one that any regimental garrison commander faced. Usually it took several days to a month for a DropShip to make planetfall from either the zenith or nadir jump points of a system. Using a pirate point, though risky, cut that margin down to a day or even hours. It was a risk that many regimental officers were more than willing to take.
"I'm shocked that the Davions were able to get forces here so quickly," Captain Fitzwalther said. "From the sound of it all hell is breaking loose in the Sarna March."
Loren cocked an eyebrow at the younger officer. "I wouldn't be so shocked by their speed in getting here, Captain. I'd be more worried about what was on that ship in the first place."
"It's a small infantry hauler," Huff said. "Even if modified it could only carry a handful of BattleMechs at most. Like Captain Fitzwalther said, three or four platoons of infantry and support gear can cause damage, but I doubt they could tip the scales of the battle. The odds are still on our side."
"BattleMechs may rule the battlefield, Major Huff, but as we saw just a short while ago, one person can also cause a great deal of damage. I wouldn't write off that ship or its cargo until we know for sure what we're dealing with. And no matter what, I doubt this is the last of the Davion reinforcements coming into the system."
Huff smiled patronizingly. "I appreciate what you did for us back at the spaceport, Major, but now that we're in the field you seem a little timid. Neither Catelli nor Mulvaney have the kind of equipment needed for a prolonged operation. But the Castle does and they're trying to reach the banks of the Tilman to get the speed they need to beat us there, plain and simple. What we're facing here is a unit on the run and this is a race to stop them—period."
Loren smiled back. "I've been called many things in my career, Major Huff, but 'timid' has never been on that list until now. Don't mistake my intentions or comments. I'm simply pointing out that it's best not to make broad-based assumptions. The Northwind Highlanders have a reputation for ferocity. If I were Castelli or a Davion Marshal, I'd be playing for keeps against you. No restraint, only a direct and persistent attack."
Loren knew that his comment regarding the Highlanders' prowess was a gross understatement. Davion isn't going to let Northwind slip from his grip without a fight. Chancellor Liao knew that and I know it. Whatever is on that ship is meant to give Catelli an edge. Huff can think what he wants. I would play this as if it were a deadly threat.
20
Southeast of Tara City Northwind
Draconis March, Federated Commonwealth
24 September 3057
The cockpit of Chastity Mulvaney's Marauder II was quiet as she carefully navigated the giant, bird-like 'Mech through the forest. She was tuning out most of the light chatter on the communications channel, concentrating only on maneuvering her BattleMech among the massive trees. It was the motion and the action that kept her going, kept her from having to think too much about all that had happened, kept her from having to consider the gravity of her actions. It was how she always dealt with frustration in her life, by burying herself in her duty.
She was surprisingly calm, despite the calculated risk of joining with Colonel Catelli against her own Highlanders. But she'd seen no other path. Had she remained with MacLeod, Catelli and his Guards would be only a memory right now and the Northwind Highlanders tainted as murderous criminals. Worse yet, the pro-Davion warriors among the Highlanders would have felt betrayed by their own command.
Mulvaney had provided the Davion loyalists in ranks with an honorable way out. Rather than compromise their personal beliefs, they had joined with Prince Victor's representatives on Northwind. Mulvaney's orders to those who'd come with her were simple. This was to be a test of honor on a grand scale. They were not to kill their kinsmen, but to protect the Consul Guards until the matter could be resolved diplomatically once the rest of the Highlander regiments arrived. Mulvaney was certain that Colonel MacLeod understood what she had done. She wondered if Loren Jaffray ever would.
Colonel Catelli had been obviously irritated at her orders, but had not interfered. Instead, he continued to treat her as if she were the new commanding officer of the Northwind Highlanders, using the rank of Colonel every time he spoke her name. But it only annoyed her more with each instance.
She pushed the throttle forward and used the right joystick to turn the Marauder II as it walked, using the massive PPC to push aside the thick growth and hanging brush. In three short steps the tree line ended and a flood of light poured down on Mulvaney as she gazed out over the Tilman River. Her viewport filtered the burst of light for the most part, but even the slight increase seemed to warm her slightly. The river itself was nearly a hundred meters across and one-tenth that deep. It was bordered by wide sand banks on either side. It was everything that she and Castelli needed, a wide open expressway.
"Colonel Catelli, this is Mulvaney," she transmitted. "I'm at the river just south of your position. No sign of hostiles." She and her Highlanders had been s
ent through the forest to the south of Tara to make sure that no one had beaten them to the river banks. As she'd suspected, MacLeod was still a half-day's march behind them. Over time this advantage would erode, but until then it was a classic game of fox and hounds. And for the time being, she was the fox.
"You made good time, Colonel," Catelli said, irritating her with the use of that rank. "Deploy your troops on both sides of the river and begin a gradual advance, per our earlier discussion. I want you personally to fall back to these coordinates and meet with me there." Mulvaney's secondary screen displayed the map coordinates as Catelli transmitted them. She downloaded them onto her long-range readout map.
"Acknowledged," she replied. "Lieutenants O'Leary,
Burke, and Darley, execute Plan Bravo. Darley, you're in command until I get back." She waited a few seconds as her officers acknowledged her orders, then turned and began the ten-kilometer trek to the rendezvous coordinates.
It took nearly twenty minutes for Mulvaney to pilot her Marauder II down the Tilman River to where Catelli had ordered. Most of the distance was an easy traverse compared to the dense forest through which she'd been maneuvering the Marauder until now. During the last two twisting, turning kilometers of the journey she'd passed several Consul Guard 'Mechs and a number of Guard light tanks. It wasn't just the sight of Colonel Catelli's massive Atlas that told her she'd arrived at the coordinates, but the large Fury Class DropShip settled on the banks of the river. She quickly dismounted onto the soft sand of the Tilman's shore.
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