A Bonfire of Worlds

by Steven Mohan Jr.

  How much easier it would be to kill him right here and now, Melissa thought. How strong would the Wolves really be without Alaric? Unfortunately, the answer probably was, strong enough. And there was no telling howthe Wolves would react if she violated their bizarre sense of honor. Maybe they'd do nothing.

  Or maybe they'd bombard Tharkad from space.

  "Archon Melissa Steiner," Alaric said. "You and I have business to conclude."

  "We do indeed, Galaxy Commander," said Melissa in a firm, steady voice. "But before we do, I would like an accounting of Clan Wolf's actions. My fondest hope was that the Wolves and the Lyrans would learn to work together. We extended to you the hand of friendship, and you betrayed us."

  Melissa braced herself. If he was going to kill her, this would be the moment. Trillian edged forward, as if readying herself to dive in front of Melissa.

  But Alaric just smiled and shook his head. "We had no allegiance to betray, Archon. We are, were, and always will be

  only loyal to the way of the wolf. I believe our confederates made that very clear when we entered into our arrangement. You," he said softly, "did not listen."

  "Tell me, Alaric. When was the moment you decided to turn against us?"

  "The very first moment you tried to manipulate us, Archon. A wolf will bite when you try to slip a collar around its neck." He shook his head. "And we are wolves. Not dogs."

  Their civilians, she thought. It all started with their civilians.

  "But do not fear, Archon, you may not live to see it, but your vision of Clan Wolf and the Lyran Commonwealth working together will come to pass—if," he raised an eyebrow, "not precisely in the way you envisioned it."

  You may not live to see it.

  Trillian put a hand on her shoulder.

  Callandre stepped forward. She shook with fury. "You shall pay for your insolence, Alaric."

  Anastasia looked up, a look of curiosity on her face.

  A sharp smile flashed across the Clanner's face. "Search your feelings carefully, Callandre Kell. You do not hate me. If I were you, I would save your rage for Malvina Hazen. I am sure she will be along shortly."

  Melissa felt a chill at his words, but she managed to stand and say: "What do you bid to take the world of Tharkad?"

  Alaric chuckled. "Why everything I have, of course. And Alpha Galaxy, as well, when my Khan arrives. But we do not need all of Tharkad, Archon. We fight only for Tharkad City and the continent of Bremen."

  Melissa's jaw sagged open, and for a moment she could not speak. Finally, she said: "W-what do you suggest we do with the rest of the planet?"

  "Well, that is up to you, Archon," and Alaric flashed her one of his beautiful, infuriating smiles. "But if I were you, I would discuss the matter with the Jade Falcons."

  * * *

  Julian Davion watched Alaric turn and walk out of the throne room, Anastasia following behind him like a dog on a lead.

  He made himself remain still, standing at attention as they left. Then they were lost from view and suddenly Julian found himself striding down the long, blue carpet.

  "Jules?" called out Callandre, but he ignored her.

  He pushed out into the outer hallway. "Alaric Wolf," he called.

  Alaric turned, his face calm, implacable. "Julian Davion. Do we have a matter to discuss?"

  Julian shook his head. "I will not let you take her."

  Alaric glanced at Anastasia, whose face was perfectly blank. "She is isorla, legally won. You may not stop me from taking her."

  Julian looked at the Lyran soldiers lining the long highway and raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

  "It would be a violation of our customs."

  "But not ours."

  "You will not do this."

  "Why not? Will you fight us any harder if I violate this rule? You're already all in, Alaric. That leaves you with no additional leverage."

  "You are an honorable man, Julian Davion," said Alaric. "You may pretend otherwise, but I do not believe you."

  "All right. Then I challenge you to a Trial of Possession for Anastasia Kerensky, just you and me."

  Alaric raised an eyebrow. "Augmented or unaugmented?"

  Julian stepped toward the Clanner so he was only centimeters away from him. "Whatever you like," he said slowly, drawing out the words.

  Alaric nodded to himself, obviously considering. "You are honorable and courageous. You would have made a fine Wolf,

  Julian Davion. Of course, depending on how things go you still might. But for now, I am afraid I must say neg."

  Alaric started to turn away, but Julian took a step toward Anastasia and held out his hand. "Come with me."

  Only then did she look at him. "Neg" she said.

  "Anastasia." Julian shook his head. "It's OK. He won't— He can't-"

  "Neg," she said again, this time with a little more force.

  Julian stared at her, not understanding. "I tried to save you," he said. "On Smolnik I tried to save you."

  "But you failed," she said.

  "And that is why you cannot take her," said Alaric. Julian looked over at the Clanner. A tight smile stretched across his face. "Because she knows I hold the key to understanding the true nature of war."

  "No, you don't," said Julian.

  Alaric turned and strode away. "We shall see soon enough," he called without turning.

  Anastasia followed him without another word.

  Overlord-class DropShip Bec de Corbin Low Orbit

  Tharkad, Donegal Military Province,

  Lyran Commonwealth

  15 July 3143

  Beckett Malthus stood on the bridge of his ship, awaiting Malvina Hazen's explosion. She stood with a boot tucked into a steel loop, her hands on her hips, glaring at the face on the viewscreen.

  He was a young man, blond with blue eyes—Galaxy Commander Alaric of the Wolves. Alaric! Freebirth! He did not even have a Bloodname and yet this young whelp had reached Tharkad before either Malvina orthe Wolf Khan.

  "If this is the Wolf idea of a joke, it is a very poor one indeed," Malvina hissed. "And if this is not a joke, it is even worse."

  Alaric shrugged as if he were arguing with a fellow warrior over the outcome of a football match, rather than with the most dangerous person in all human space. "We have already bid on Bremen. But we have not challenged the Lyrans for possession of the continents of Franz, Grolsch, Heidelberg, and Sutherland. Whether you choose to take them is up to you. It has nothing to do with we Wolves."

  "You filthy surat. You lay claim to Tharkad City and then seek to mollify us with the rest of the world."

  Alaric answered her insult with a thin, dangerous smile. "We Wolves take what we want," he said easily. "As to why we do not want the rest of Tharkad—well, we have never felt the need to explains ourselves to Jade Falcons. I shall not start now, Khan Hazen."

  "Chingis Khan," she snarled.

  Alaric shook his head. "Not today, Khan Hazen. Someday you may be the Emperor of all Mankind. But you are not today."

  She stared at him, her blue eyes blazing. "I think we should see who truly deserves Tharkad City."

  Malthus noted she did not phrase it as a formal challenge. From that alone he knew how this would turn out.

  Alaric nodded. Suddenly Malthus realized the boy had seen the same thing. This young Wolf possesses a remarkable political mind.

  "To fight for what we want, that is the way of the Clans, quiaff? But if you challenge me to a Trial of Possession, you should knowthat I have my entire Beta Galaxy here. And Khan Seth Ward has just jumped into the system with Alpha Galaxy, three pocket WarShips, and a Congress-class frigate. And I think you will find that the Lyrans fear your Mongol doctrine so much that many of them will fight by my side."

  Here, finally, was a flaw in the Mongol doctrine. It did not work when you encountered enemies who refused to yield to terror.

  Beckett watched Malvina stare at the young Wolf on the screen, her face glacial, thinking. A battle with the Wolves would be apocalypt
ic, costing enough men and machines that the Lyrans might well regain all they had lost in a wave of counterattacks.

  But if she bid on the rest of the world, the Lyran forces would be divided between two dangerous foes. She could claim she had conquered Tharkad—and the Jade Falcons would have time to rebuild.

  A cruel smile spread across Malvina's rosebud lips. "I see wisdom in your words, little Wolf cub." Her blue eyes marked Alaric's young face. "But I say now, there will come a day when Tharkad is governed under a single flag."

  If Alaric was intimidated, he did not show it. "We are Clan," he said. "Is there any other way?"

  The screen flickered to black.

  Enraged, Malvina Hazen turned and pushed herself across the bridge, slamming the hatch behind her.

  Malthus did not even watch her go. He stared at the dark screen. His greatest sin was that he had brought the bloodfoul Malvina to power. Now, for the first time since she had plunged the Warship Emerald Talon into the heart of Sudeten, he felt a glimmer of hope.

  For it occurred to Khan Beckett Malthus of Clan Jade Falcon that Alaric Wolf might just be the one man in the whole of the universe who could undo his sin.

  Northwest of Tharkad City

  Tharkad Donegal Military Province

  Lyran Commonwealth

  17 July 3143

  Tharkad's defenders faced the Shadow Wolves across a featureless, snow-covered battlefield. This was farmland, flat and irrigated. The foothills didn't take over the landscape until one traveled further south, toward the mountains. As machines moved across the field, they scraped the snow clean, leaving dark spots mixed in with the white.

  The battlefield looked like some kind of crazy, crooked chessboard.

  Only this wasn't a game.

  Julian dropped his reticle over a brown Thor dusted with white. The snow had come the night before, and the Wolf 'Mechs must have gone without shelter. Alaric obviously didn't want his machines caught in their DropShip berths in the event of a surprise Lyran attack.

  Julian pulled into his triggers and twin shards of lightning scoured snow, paint, and armor from the Thor's chest.

  Alaric was right to be wary, but that wasn't the surprise he should've been looking for.

  "Jack-in-the-box," he called out.

  Before the Thor could answer, Leftenant Theresa Sparks darted forward in her Legionnaire and tore into the Clanner with her RAC-5. For a moment the deadly rattle of the rotary autocannon filled the battlefield, massive brass casings falling like rain, depleted uranium shells hammering armor from the Thor's chest, the Davion machine's targeting computer making every shot count.

  The Thor pilot locked up, caught between two dangerous opponents and not knowing which to hit.

  So he hit neither.

  Julian chose that moment to step forward and fire his TharHes four-pack. The missile's corkscrewed in, rippling

  across the Thor's chest. Julian saw a dirty cloud of abraded armor. In a second the debris settled out of the air.

  And he saw the titanium sheen of the Thor's bones.

  Overmatched and off-balance, the Wolf pilot backstepped out of range, replaced by a Vulture moving up to take its place, the great machine leaving immense tracks in the snow.

  At once, the Legionnaire fell back, released from its Jack-in- the-box attack.

  Julian ripped into the Vulture with his paired PPCs to cover Theresa's retreat.

  The First Davion Guards had two vital duties. The first was to hold the center of the Lyran line. The two sides were arranged in a long-line abreast that started a couple klicks from the northern edge of Tharkad City and stretched almost due northwest.

  If the Wolves managed to punch through the line, their fast- movers would swing south and race toward the Triad, eight klicks south of the city.

  Julian was not going to let that happen.

  Fortunately he had to the tools to hold his ground. Callandre had given him the bulk of her reserves. The center of the Lyran line was a thick knot of military power, power that Julian was using sparingly.

  So far.

  Every once in a while he would hit the Wolves with a Jack- in-the-box attack, throwing them back whenever it looked like they might be gaining a toehold, but otherwise he held back his reserves.

  Because protecting the middle wasn't his only duty.

  The Guards' second task involved the unit of fast machines at Julian's back. There were two Legionnaires, one Lyran and one his, fast little machines with a deadly little punch. There were Condors and Demons.

  There was Callandre in her SM1.

  Waiting for Julian to open the door for her.

  Julian looked anxiously up into the gunmetal sky. Before it was too late.

  * * *

  Alaric stalked his Savage Wolf left, toward the center of the line. His Wolves were holding the line well. Rather than trying to swing around the Lyran left flank or punch through a weak spot in the line, Alaric had held his reserves back.

  He did not want a race to the Triad.

  He wanted to end this with one swift blow.

  His command channel crackled, and he heard the whoop of crypto synching up. "Shadow One, this is Wolf Actual. Report situation."

  The Snarling Leap's massive engines punched the signal right through Tharkad's atmospheric interference.

  "All is in accordance with our plans, my Khan." He looked over at the Lyran line and saw the garish red, white, and blue of the First Davion Guards, picked out Julian Davion's Templar. "I expect the opening phase of Lock Down to begin in one zero minutes."

  "Very well. Shadow One. We expect drop in four five minutes."

  Alaric watched a wounded Thor fall back from his line. He smiled to himself. This was exactly the opportunity he had been waiting for.

  He stepped forward and dropped his reticle over the Templar's chest.

  "Good hunting, my Khan," said Alaric. And then he pulled into his triggers. "Shadow One, out."

  * * *

  Julian looked across the line and saw Alaric Wolf's Mad Cat //just as the Galaxy Commander lowered his lasers and tore into his Templar's chest armor.

  He had never been so happy to be attacked. "Guards, to me," he shouted. "Doorman, Doorman, Doorman."

  And they came, ignoring their heat loads, ignoring their wireframe schematics and their weapons loadouts.

  Ignoring their very survival.

  They came.

  * * *

  All at once, Alaric saw the First Davion Guards surge forward, in a desperate, ferocious attack that was joined by their Lyran reserves. A pair of Kinnol main battle tanks tore into a Wolf Vulture, joined by a Davion Centurion.

  A JES missile carrier fired wave after wave of SRMs in a fierce attack

  on the Wolf line to the Wolf's right, pinning Alaric's people so they could not come to the Vulture's aid. The JES was supported by Hauberk battlesuit infantry, hover- bikes, and VV1 Rangers.

  Julian's Templar put a flight of missiles into Alaric's cockpit, then stalked right, cutting into a Koshi with his PPCs. Thumper artillery tied down that side of Alaric's line, joined by the brutal fire of a Behemoth II and a Packhunter.

  All of it appearing at once.

  Like a massive offensive line overpowering their undersized opponents, the Guards opened up a huge hole in Alaric's line.

  And Julian Davion's offensive backfield punched right through.

  This was the point of maximum danger. All might be lost.

  "All units, Shadow One," Alaric called, "Segment. Right, hold position. Reserves, close and kill. Left, WITH ME."

  * * *

  As the commander of Tharkad's defense, Callandre Kell should have been back behind the lines, well away from the action.

  But that just wasn't her style.

  So when Jules opened the door, she was the first one through. She led out a Condors and Demons and a pair of Legionnaires.

  All of them looking for Alaric Wolf.

  Jules was right. There was little hope of cha
sing the Wolves off Tharkad. But that wasn't the same as no hope. If they could kill Alaric Wolf, they might rattle Beta Galaxy, might roll them up. Then when Alpha got down, they might have a chance.

  But only if they killed Alaric Wolf.

  It was the only card Callandre had to play.

  "Hold on Guns, this may be a little rough."

  The Sergeant Major riding in the Destroyer's left cockpit just grunted. Brad Zimmer had never ridden with Calamity Kell before, so he didn't know what "a little rough" meant.

  He was about to find out.

  The hover tank skimmed over the flat snow-covered fields like a skater racing over rink ice. Callandre punched it and the Destroyer flashed forward at nearly 130 kph.

  She marked the position of Alaric's Mad Cat and jerked her control stick over, putting her vehicle into a brutal sideways slide that only ended when she punched it again, sending the Destroyer careening in an entirely new direction.

  This time Zimmer's grunt was much more appreciative.

  The massive roar of the Destroyer's Ultra AC/20 filled her cockpit as they punished Alaric's 'Mech.

  Until something smashed into her.

  She looked right and saw a Thor pounding toward her while it smashed her armor with its LB-X. For a moment she held her shot on Alaric.

  But then the Thor ripped into her side with its actinic-bright PPC.

  Gritting her teeth, Callandre slid her machine around, bringing her own autocannon to bear on the new threat.

  She ripped into the Thor's already damaged chest, but the Clan heavy kept coming. The last hundred meters, it was shedding armor at a fearsome pace and it had the herky-jerky motion that indicated a failing gyroscope.

  It staggered right, Callandre thought to get clear of her gun, but then fell, suddenly toppling towards her.

  She saw it coming and slid left, but the Thor pilot managed to deliver a glancing blow, hard enough to rattle Callandre in her cockpit and damage her lift skirt, reducing her speed and maneuverability.

  She looked up and realized the Thor's kamikaze attack hadn't been an accident. All her fast-movers were engaged in brutal, close-range fights.