The man had to be Devon Osis. His face was unremarkable, but his dark eyes had some of the alienness of the animal that gave his Clan its name. The woman was muscular and held herself in a way that proclaimed she was not to be taken lightly.
The man spoke first, and Stirling was struck once again by the strange, almost archaic accents of Clan speech. "I am Galaxy Commander Devon Osis of the Smoke Jaguar Tau Galaxy." He paused for her response.
"I am Colonel Andrea Stirling of the Northwind Highlanders, Stirling's Fusiliers Regiment," she replied coolly and confidently.
"I stoop to this contact with you to inform you that your paltry attempt to attack my aerodrome was crushed." Osis pressed a button on the baton he held in his hands like a scepter; the image disappeared for a second. Then the screen filled with a scene of smoke and death. There were Battle-Mechs, most sprawled out on the ground and ripped apart as if they had been drawn and quartered. Craters filled the area being broadcast to her, a scene of total death and destruction. There was no sign of life, and Stirling told herself that Fuller and his people could never have survived that assault. Then just as quickly the screen returned to that of the Galaxy Commander and the other Smoke Jaguar officer.
"Perhaps you will also be interested to know that we discovered your booby trap of the DropShip before it could do much damage. You have failed, Colonel Andrea."
Stirling was angry, but forced her voice to remain the calm. "Star Colonel Roberta provided us with victory enough, Commander Osis," she said smoothly.
"But one that was only short-lived. Do you fear to face the truth, Colonel? You can run from us, but even if you pretend not to fear the Jaguars, how will you provide for your people on this world whose terrain is murderous and offers so little in the way of vegetation."
"So you contact me, Commander Osis. For what purpose? Do you think I will surrender to you?"
"Surrender is not the way of a warrior. And besides, this planet lacks the facilities to support prisoners of your number. No, I speak to you as one warrior to another. You have proven yourself a worthy foe. Stop your flight. Turn around now and face my Mist Pouncers Cluster head-on. I promise you an honorable contest."
Stirling considered it, for all of three seconds. "A generous offer, Commander Osis, but perhaps you underestimate us. Of course that would not be the first time the Jaguars have made that error. Have your people learned nothing from the beatings you took on Luthien and Tukayyid?" Her Scots burr rose to the occasion.
Devon Osis's body seemed to tense slightly, and the briefest glimpse of fury passed over his rigid expression. "Poorly bargained and done, Colonel," was all he said as he reached out with his baton and tapped the control to break off the connection.
35
North of the Isthmus of Bannockburn
Wayside V (Wildcat)
Deep Periphery
18 July 3058
The stinging pain stirred brevet-Major Jake Fuller from his nightmare and back into consciousness, slowly and reluctantly. When he'd gone unconscious yesterday, he thought he was dying. He was wrong. Instead of the peaceful bliss of death, he'd been trapped in a never-ending nightmare of demons, monsters, fire, and a dull ringing in his ears that did not cease upon awakening.
Even the greenish light of the Wayside evening hurt his eyes. Fuller was disoriented for a second, then realized he was propped up against the familiar leg of his Cerberus. Turning his head made his neck muscles ache, but in the distance he saw the hulking form of the Hatamoto-chi. And beyond that, the remains of his command. Burned and destroyed wreckage of BattleMechs was strewn about the rocky ground, but if he hadn't already known what it was, he'd never have recognized the pieces as 'Mechs.
"You're alive," a voice said, "if that's what you're wondering." Jake looked over and saw the bandaged form of Elden Parkensen standing near him, one hand extending a canteen. The Sho-sa wore his arm in a sling and his head was wrapped with an emergency field med-kit bandage. Jake took the canteen as if it weighed fifty kilos, eventually hefting it up to his lips to gulp down a bit of the warm water inside. Just beyond Parkensen he saw one of the women of his command. Chantilly Hamilton. She waved, apparently in better shape than either he or the Sho-sa, though he noted that her thighs were both bandaged.
He moved slightly and it felt as if the skin on his back was on fire, stinging like a thousand needles stabbing him all at once.
"Take it easy, Major," Hamilton said, walking up to him. "You caught a lot of shrapnel in your back and have some nasty burns. The Sho-sa had some experience with field surgery, though, and says you'll pull through."
Jake looked over at Parkensen and nodded. "Thanks," he managed to say.
"You'll be fine, but there'll be scarring. I did what was required."
Fuller turned back to Hamilton. "What's our status, or don't I want to know?"
She hesitated in responding. "Apparently the Jags picked us up on their passive sensors. We never had any warning when their fighters hit. They used some kind of bomb that seems to home in on operating fusion reactors—maybe using the neutrino signature as a homing beacon. Only the running 'Mechs got hit. Those that were shut down didn't even suffer a near miss."
"Some sort of new Clan weapons system?" Jake asked wearily.
She shrugged. "If we ever get off of this rock, that little info could be worth some bucks to the intel folks of our employer. We're all that's left of our force, but at least our 'Mechs are operational. There was a return flight of Jaguars to check the area, but they didn't seem to pick us up. I think the rock formations we're parked next to helped, so did the tarps. Since then—nothing."
"Anybody contact the Colonel and let her know?"
Hamilton looked over at the Sho-Sa, who responded to the question. "We have not contacted Fusilier Command. Such a transmission might expose us to the Jaguars."
The dull ringing in Jake's ears was subsiding, albeit not fast enough for his tastes. He drew a long breath of the thinned air of Wayside V, but it seemed to take more energy than it gave him in return. "By now the regiment thinks we're dead."
Parkensen nodded. "That's what I would think if I were in your Colonel's position."
"Crudstunk." Jake managed to curse, licking his parched lips again. "We can't just sit here and bake. How are the both of you?"
Hamilton looked at him. "Other than a few cuts, nothing holding me back, sir." She looked over at the Sho-sa with a look of concern, but said nothing.
"And you, Sho-sa?"
Parkensen's face seemed devoid of emotion, yet it was obvious from his tightened facial muscles that he was in pain of some kind. "Lieutenant Hamilton was forced to perform some minor surgery on me, but nothing that would prohibit my performance in combat, I assure you.
"And my back is a pincushion," he said painfully. "At least that's a start."
"There's more," Hamilton added reluctantly. "The Sho-sa's right hand, sir, I—I had to amputate several of his fingers."
Jake looked over at Parkensen, who seemed angered at the revelation. "It is of no consequence. I can still pilot my 'Mech."
"Yes," she snapped, "but with the loss of those fingers, you can only use two of your TICs. If you're not careful, you'll overheat that Combine tin can and shut down when we get into a fight." It was obvious to Jake that they'd already had this argument at least once.
Parkensen drew himself to his full height and looked down at Jake Fuller, his free hand propped defiantly on his hip. "My injuries are my concern. I assure you I am fit to fight the Jaguars again—if that is the plan still. Just what are your intentions, Major Fuller?"
Jake's mind was awash with what had happened. His command had been decimated for the second time since he'd assumed the leadership of the Kilsyth Guards. The mission for which he'd volunteered was critical to the success of the regiment; that much had not changed, despite the losses he'd taken. As long as that aerodrome operated, it posed a threat to the Fusiliers.
"The logical thing for us to do would be to tur
n tail and head back to the regiment—wherever they are. Everybody, including the Jags, thinks we're dead. That's our advantage. But that's not what I want to do. I say we continue on and complete the mission we started."
* * *
"Now then, Mitch, tell me we're still operational," Loren said as he leaned against the repair gantry in the 'Mech bay. The Bull Run was on its way to the nadir jump point to leave Boltin, and the bay was once again buzz with personnel working on their 'Mechs. Loren even saw a handful of off-duty engineers lending a hand.
"We are, but we're short a 'Mech," the regimental tech replied. "With everybody helping out, we've made a lot of headway on repairs. I've got Trisha's Vulture working, but had to remove one of the weapons pods. I was able to make use of some of the spare parts recovered from the Warhammer and the Behemoth to get something mounted there. She's going to run a little lopsided, but it's better than nothing at all."
"Understood, and the others?"
"Internal repairs are slow, but we won't be jumping for a little while. I think we'll be operational by the time we reach the next target." Loren heard the hesitation in Mitch's voice, but he knew that somehow the tech would get the Omni-Mechs up and running.
"Good work," he said and Mitch Fraser quickly went back to business.
Once Mitch was gone, Kerndon spoke up quietly. "I watched you from the Bull Run. You stopped at the wreckage of your fallen warrior and discarded something. I am curious as to what it was."
"Remember the Jaguar warrior who died in the hospital?"
"Aff, Marilen."
"It was her codex bracelet. Finding it would definitely convince the Nova Cats that they'd found a true Smoke Jaguar warrior, wouldn't it?"
Kerndon pondered for a moment. "That was intelligent, but I am surprised you did not consult me first. Do you not trust me?"
Loren shook his head. "That's not it. Frankly, I wasn't sure about Clan customs regarding desecration of their dead. I also wasn't sure what your people do with the codex when a warrior dies. I didn't want to place you in any moral dilemmas."
"There is no conflict of interest, Major Loren. The Clans do not view death the way your people do. We long for honorable death in combat, we embrace it. If that warrior of yours had been a Smoke Jaguar, it would have been a chance for her genetic heritage to pass on to another generation of warriors. It is a rebirth, not an end."
Loren looked at Kerndon, then reached out for the arm wearing the bondcard. He severed the second cord, leaving only one. "You reminded me of my duty in destroying Sara's remains. As I recall, the second bond was that of fidelity, and thus far you have shown yourself true to me."
Kerndon rubbed his wrist and pulled at the one remaining cord there. "Now I must prove to you my prowess in battle. Once we get to Tarnby we will meet the Nova Cats on the field and there will be time enough to show you that."
36
Nova Cat Planetary Command, New Lorton
Tarnby
Smoke Jaguar/Nova Cat Occupation Zone
19 July 3058
Khan Severen Leroux of the Nova Cats sat at the head of the table, the portrait of Clan leadership. His three Cluster commanders were points around him. Star Colonel Ajax Drummond of the 100th Strike Cluster was visibly irritated, having just come off field exercises for the meeting. Star Colonel Angelique of the 153rd Garrison Cluster was, as always, sitting with an introspective gaze.
Star Colonel Santin West sat opposite the Khan. "It is my belief that the Smoke Jaguars have mobilized their long-awaited Tau Galaxy," he was saying. "Elements of that unit are being deployed along our supply corridor and are currently testing our defenses and resolve to defend these positions."
"What makes you think it is the Tau Galaxy?" Ajax Drummond asked.
West shook his head. "I have reviewed the reports from Boltin. They recovered a codex from one of the warriors. Though it does not provide us with the location of the Jaguar base, it does tell us about the exploits of this dead warrior. She was part of the Tau Galaxy, and according to her destination orders and assignments, I was able to determine a great deal about this enemy."
"Such as?" Ajax probed.
"I have correlated data from the Cat's Eye Recharge Station, which apparently engaged in combat with the same unit. They won a Trial of Possession for JumpShip recharges there, which helps to narrow down which system they may be using. Cross-referencing the data available, we have identified eight possible systems where the Tau Galaxy might be stationed."
"What do you suggest?" Angelique asked. "Strike at them before they strike at us?"
"Aff," West said. "They are probing us for a full-scale assault. That much is obvious." Nights of either sleeplessness or fighting his nightmares had left him raw. The sooner this was over, the better.
"We only need a few more data and then we can determine their base's location," West continued. "Boltin is only two jumps from here. If I am correct, they will come here next, to Tarnby."
Drummond was shocked by the statement. "You believe they would dare come here?"
"Aff, Star Colonel." I know because of my vision and the dream that came to the Oathmaster, They will come and I will fight them here.
Khan Severen Leroux finally spoke up from the end of the table. "Star Colonels Drummond and Angelique, you will find that Star Colonel West may know some things the rest of us do not, which is why I brought his Cluster here in the first place. He has had a vision, one involving the Smoke Jaguar in battle. I have trusted this vision, and behold, the Jaguar comes at us just as the vision foretold. It is on my orders that he is here, ready to face them now that they come to our very door."
Santin West surveyed the faces in the room and saw that Drummond and Angelique were looking at him with a mixture of admiration and respect.
"You have had a vision? One that involves the Jaguars?" Ajax Drummond asked.
"Aff. In my vision I fought two cats, one a Smoke Jaguar, and another one I have never seen. Oathmaster Winters also had a dream, and in it she saw me fighting a Jaguar to a standoff in Deep Ellum, here on Tarnby." Even Khan Leroux seemed affected by his words, as the atmosphere in the room deepened, became more solemn.
"The Oathmaster has not mentioned this dream to me," Leroux said, his tone betraying irritation that he had not heard of this previously.
"To that I cannot speak, my Khan," Santin West returned. "She did not tell me the specifics, only that she saw me fighting a Jaguar in the city, fighting to a draw."
The Nova Cat Khan nodded slowly. "What is it you desire?"
"To go after them." West spoke with fire in his eyes.
Leroux smiled, chuckling slightly. "Your wish to go after these Jaguar is admirable. Worthy of the Nova Cat blood that feeds your heart and your spirit."
"I only seek to preserve our Clan, my Khan," West said, lowering his gaze out of respect.
"We will wait, the enemy will come here. And when they do, we will rip them with our claws, gouge them with our sharp teeth. Fight them with such fury that Lincoln Osis will see the madness of his undertaking."
Ajax Drummond stood up. "Khan Leroux, we place great weight on our warriors' visions. Santin West has proven himself time and time again as a true warrior of the Nova Cat. He bears a Bloodname and a great command worthy of a bloodkin of the Cat. As such I withdraw my 100th Cluster from any bidding to fight the Tau Galaxy of the Smoke Jaguars when they come to Tarnby."
Star Colonel Angelique also stood. "I too would withdraw my Cluster from the bidding, my Khan."
Santin West was stunned by their actions, yet he knew that in the same circumstances he would do the same. He bowed his large head in respect for his fellow offices. "I thank you both. I will not fail you or our Clan."
"Bleed them, but do not kill them," Leroux said firmly. "Let them lead us to the rest of their litter."
"As you wish, my Khan," Santin West replied, still holding his head low.
Leroux's ebony skin shimmered and gleamed in the light as he spoke. "Very well,
thus is the bidding to destroy this Tau Galaxy complete. Well bargained and done."
37
South of New Scotland
Wayside V (Wildcat)
Deep Periphery
22 July 3058
Major Cullen Craig was more than nervous as he approached the campfire where Colonel Stirling sat. The nervousness came from knowing that no matter what he said, it would seem like he was still waging his little personal war against Loren Jaffray. But that wasn't the main part of it. For the first time in his military career, he was considering the unthinkable, ending a fight.
Colonel Stirling had placed the survival of the regiment in the hands of her Executive Officer, Major Loren Jaffray. Just thinking about him made Craig angry. Jaffray. A year ago no one had heard of him, then the next thing you knew he was XO, running his programs and training on the rank and file of the Fusiliers, and when all was said and done, there'd been no change. Nothing had prepared them for the Smoke Jaguars.
What angered and appalled him even more was that everyone still believed that Jaffray and his team might actually return. Craig knew the truth. Loren Jaffray had taken off to save himself. He was not a true Highlander, not like me, or Blackie, or the Colonel. He's always been an outsider, and always will be.
And though Craig and Kurt Blakadar had been friends for years, Craig suddenly saw Blakadar as almost as bad as Jaffray. In the fighting in the isthmus, Blackie had very nearly left Craig and his battalion to die while awaiting an order from Stirling. Blackie's changed since he took over as XO, that's what it is. And the Colonel is the one who's made all this happen.
He stepped into the light of the campfire and Colonel Stirling looked up at him. For the first time ever he saw her age seep through her expression, if only for a moment.
"Something on your mind, Major?"
"Yes, sir," he said as the flames flickered up into the night. "Colonel, I must speak my mind and tell you that I don't feel good about how we're dealing with the Smoke Jaguars." He dared not make eye contact with her, fearing her sharp gaze.
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