There was little else he could do. Takashi still refused to accept that Theodore would never be the man the Coordinator wanted him to be. Certainly the heir could be guided, but not with Takashi's strong-arm tactics. The Coordinator's pigheadedness was itself a threat to the continuity of the House Kurita's rule, and therefore to the Draconis Combine. But Subhash knew that open opposition to Takashi would only weaken his own position and make it harder for him to protect the Combine.
The Draconis Combine stood in increasing peril. It needed the undivided attention of its Coordinator, and Subhash intended that nothing would prevent that.
"Have you read my reports, Tono?" he asked, doffing his armor.
"Yes. This morning," Takashi replied, removing his own do. "You are sure this Davion adventure is over?”
“It would seem so."
For most of the past three months, there have been massive troop movements along the Davion border. Ten Battle-Mech regiments and a hundred conventional units had been involved in something called Operation Galahad. It had not turned out to be the beginnings of a war, as Subhash had feared. Only a few minor raiding forces had crossed into Combine space. House Davion had gone to great expense "to demonstrate the Federated Suns' preparedness to repel hostile invaders." He knew that Prince Hanse Davion, whom many called "the Fox," must have something more in mind, but his ISF agents had so far come up empty.
Takashi finished arranging his armor on its stand and headed for the showers. Subhash followed, willing to let Takashi determine the conversation's next step. They had washed away the sweat from their exercise and begun dressing before Takashi spoke again.
"Your assessment of our allies is uninspiring."
"I do not report strength where there is none. If Prince Davion starts a war, we should not expect much of our Kapteyn allies."
They both knew that the lack of reliable allies was a serious weakness. A man of vision could no longer ignore the ever-stronger alliance between the Federated Suns and the Lyran Commonwealth, the Combine's bitterest enemies. Any sane ruler would fear such a combination.
"We must be strong if the Fox decides we are his prey," Takashi stated.
"Our strength increases. The Ryuken experiment has proven its worth. I recommended expansion."
"That seems reasonable," Takashi conceded. Subhash knew that the Coordinator would not make a final decision until after he consulted the Warlords, but Takashi seemed inclined to take the step.
"They and the Genyosha will become very important if Wolf's Dragoons cannot be retained."
"Yes, the Dragoons. Your report was not specific. What is the real situation there?"
"Our plans are in motion, Tono. Their debt increases daily, and we prepare in case they do not fall to the 'company-store' ploy. Where the Dragoons fail to provide us with material for blackmail, I have arranged to manufacture it. We have been fortunate in finding a most convincing Natasha Kerensky."
Takashi nodded solemnly as he slipped into the simple soldier's jumpsuit he affected on military occasions.
"I do not want the Dragoons to leave the Combine," he stated firmly.
"I will convey your wishes to our agents, Tono."
"In the meantime, we must attend to the more pressing business of the Combine's strategy for the coming year."
"Indeed, Tono," Subhash agreed, pleased that, for the moment, Takashi had forgotten his problems with his son. Now the Coordinator would apply his considerable wiles to important problems. "The Warlords await you."
"Then let us get to work."
Subhash was even more pleased at the resolution in Takashi's voice. His own work had been successful. As they started for the main building of the palace, he said, "Allow me to precede you, Tono. It would be better if the Coordinator were not seen to favor the ISF over the Warlords by arriving in the company of the Director."
"As usual, my friend, you are right."
Indrahar bowed and proceeded across the court, satisfied that Takashi was well-prepared to meet with his Council.
19
Legion of Vega HQ, Massingham, Marfik
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine
11 December 3027
The red banner snapped in the stiff breeze. Rattling pulleys caught Theodore's attention, drawing his eyes to the Legion's symbol boldly emblazoned on the flag. The scruffy, cigarette-smoking rat, seated in front of the red disk, returned his gaze with the serene indifference of the two-dimensional.
"Another fine day under Takashi's eyes," Theodore mused to the massive man at his side.
Olivares rubbed at his scar with a grimy finger before responding. "The rat ain't got no eyes, Sama."
"That seems to have been a problem all my life."
Olivares' face contorted into a grimace of confusion as he shook his head slowly. "You is fine in the field, sama, but sometimes you sure do talk strange."
Theodore chuckled. "Don't worry about it, Olivares-kun. Hadn't you best get down to the landing field? The DropShip with our new recruits is due within the hour."
"Recruits?" the big man rumbled as he walked off in the direction of the landing field. "That's a good joke."
Theodore listened to the Sho-sa's laughter fade into the distance. Almost three years on Marfik, and he still didn't understand Olivares' sense of humor. But that seemed only fair; neither did the Sho-sa ever seem to grasp the ironies that Theodore perceived in existence.
Marfik was a fine world, an unlikely dumping ground for the refuse of the Combine military. It was a far pleasanter posting than Vega, where the Legion's other two regiments were stationed.
Theodore gazed past the city of Massingham at the distant forest of brella trees, a magnificent sight to start a morning. Thirty meters of massive, naked trunk rose from the leaf-mold of the forest floor before the branches began, arching out and interlacing in an intricate web. Those limbs were bare now, but when spring came, their deep blue leaves would cast the forest into deep shadow, making it a bewildering maze for those who did not know the paths. The forest was a wonder, one of the many on this pleasant world.
Refreshed, Theodore mounted the steps to the one-room hut ostentatiously labeled "Comanding Oficer." The misspelling did not bother him; the sign was a gift from his officers and he treasured the respect it signified. He entered the office to find Ninyu Kerai stretched out on the faded couch, feet propped up on the radio table. Ninyu appeared to be asleep, hat pulled low over his eyes, but Theodore knew better.
"Must you adopt their slovenly habits?"
"Protective coloration," Ninyu mumbled from beneath his cap. "Very important in my business."
Theodore crossed to his desk, threading his way past the pair of straight-backed chairs, and dropped into his rickety armchair. It groaned but held. "Shall we pretend that you are still in the military, and try to get some work done?"
Ninyu sat up, grabbing his cap before it could hit the floor. He rubbed his free hand back and forth over his bushy red hair and said, "You've been testy since Tomoe left on her furlough. Maybe we should take a trip to the Pleasure Quarter."
Theodore shot him a disapproving glare, to which Ninyu responded with a shrug. "You know that I'm worried about her. She's having more trouble this time."
"Brother Nitti is a fine doctor. Mother and child will be fine."
Theodore could not disagree. "Still, I miss her."
"That's obvious. But at least Hohiro is getting some time with his mother."
"Something I don't get to do while I have to look after my other children," Theodore said petulantly, waving a hand toward the window through which the barracks of the Legion could be seen. "If they were real soldiers, I wouldn't have to babysit them."
"They may not be Sword of Light, but they're not babies," Ninyu observed. "They were trash when you took over, but things are different now. And you're the reason, my friend. Whether you believe it or not."
Theodore gave him a skeptical look.
"It's true," Ninyu asserted. "You
took the first big step when you cowed Olivares instead of letting him bully you. That made you alpha male. These mongrels are used to fearing the boss dog. You've always told me that fear was an unsatisfactory motivator, so you're not satisfied.
"Take a good look around. Their attitudes are changing. You lifted their morale by dubbing them buso-senshi. Armament warriors. Some of them didn't appreciate the pun at first, especially the non-Japanese. But they could hardly be expected to know that the character for 'armament' had a cognate that meant 'matchless.' You gave them heart. The real turning point came when you called the rat on the banner 'Takashi.' It struck a chord with them, crystallized your kinship with them as a fellow outcast.
"Didn't Tomoe and I help you spot the real trash infecting the Legion? The squealers with no morals or loyalty and the gutless wonders are gone now. With the false-front office I set up, even the reports of the ISF spies in the unit go across your desk, to be altered or passed on intact. Lets you keep the Coordinator's nose out of your business.
"Fundamental changes don't happen overnight. You're getting results. The 'Mechs may still be a patchwork and look like a pack of gypsy vagabonds, but the troops are working with them, improving what they can. They're starting to operate as units, too. It seems to be rubbing off on the conventional troops as well."
Theodore chuckled. "Yeah, in ten years they might be able to face Steiner. Thank Buddha we're not on the Davion border."
"Rome in a day, Osaka Tower overnight, and all that sort of thing. Patience, my friend."
"Thank you, font of wisdom," Theodore said drily. "Can you solve the supply problem as well?"
Ninyu shrugged. "I'm an acclaimed wise man, not a miracle worker."
Theodore sighed. "The Legionnaires are still a bunch of rowdy hellions, ready to brawl at a moment's notice. Their discipline is almost as sloppy as the way they dress."
"This ain't the court on Luthien," Ninyu reminded him needlessly. "Come the day, they'll fight—that's what's important."
"We'll see when the day comes." Theodore flipped the switch on his compdeck and slipped in a disk. He scrolled the screen for several minutes, studying the data as it flowed past his eyes. "That day may be near."
Ninyu stiffened with sudden attention. "Orders for a raid?"
Theodore shook his head. "No such luck. This unit isn't likely to be sent into action as long as I'm in charge. It's a matter of principle with a certain person.
"No, I'm talking about the reports the ISF has gotten concerning Davion officers advising Steiner units. The Lyran troops have shown noticeable improvement over the last years. After Davion started his saber-rattling with Operation Galahad, the Lyrans copied him with their own Operation Thor. The storm is coming to a head."
"Will they push it to all-out war?"
"It seems only a matter of time. Hanse Davion's wedding binds more than two political units. It weds a strong economy to a dangerous military. We're definitely looking at trouble."
"You think they'll take us on?"
"Who else is as dangerous to them? Surely not the muddled Free Worlds League, or the outgunned Capellan Confederation. The Periphery states are too small to be a real threat, and the lesser houses are unimportant. The Dragon is their rightful concern.
"We shall be pressed to the utmost fighting against both Houses. It will be a glorious war."
Theodore smiled, his thoughts on the possibilities that a war would bring. At last, he would have a chance to prove himself as a warrior, a commander. Takashi would no longer be able to deny him his place. Theodore would prove himself a worthy heir.
A sudden, dark thought intruded on his dreams of glory. War would bring danger to his own son and heir.
"Ninyu-kun, I want you to do something for me."
"Ask," Ninyu said warily.
"I want my family moved to a safer world. We are too exposed here on Marfik. Too close to the Lyrans."
"Tomoe can't leave until after she delivers," Ninyu reminded him.
"I know that. As soon as she can travel, I want them gone."
"It will be hard to cover."
"I have faith in your skills, my friend," Theodore said with a smile.
Ninyu returned to the couch and stretched out. "This will take a lot of planning," he said. "I might as well get started."
Theodore watched his friend replace the cap over his eyes and settle down. He shook his head. Had anyone else reponded to his orders in such a way, he would have been incensed. But he knew from past experience that no matter how relaxed Ninyu looked, his mind was always working. Satisfied that his friend would come up with a solution, Theodore turned his attention to the compdeck. He called up the latest unit-readiness reports and began to study them.
20
Legion of Vega HQ, Massingham, Marfik
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine
11 December 3027
Olivares' bass voice interrupted Theodore's concentration. From the bellowings, he knew that the Sho-sa had herded the new arrivals to the building to meet their commander. Quite a far cry from the nonexistent reception committee gathered for his own arrival.
Before Olivares had them in order, Theodore walked out into the sunlight. Ninyu roused himself and slouched along in Theodore's wake.
Stopping by the flagpole, Theodore looked over the men and women slowly shuffling into ragged lines. A wide variety of uniforms and partial uniforms were present: MechWarriors and footsoldiers, tankers and AeroJocks, mechanics and cooks. They came from all branches of the Combine military. Many wore patches of units that had been involved in the disastrous Galtor campaign. One non-uniformed clump stayed stubbornly together. Theodore presumed that they were what was left of the mercenary Kelly's Killers, destroyed as an effective unit when Davion raided New Mendham. The unit's debt to the Combine was being paid off by service with the Legion.
Olivares looked over to Theodore, who nodded.
"Damp it, you slimelickers," Olivares bellowed. "Tai-sa Kurita has got a few words for ya. Dig the wax outa your ears and listen up!"
Theodore was impressed by the eloquence of Olivares' introduction. The Sho-sa's long speeches were usually unprintable. Theodore cleared his throat, pitching his voice to carry over the field.
"Welcome to the Legion of Vega."
"I know what you've heard, because I've heard it, too. That this is the cesspit of the Draconis military. That your careers are over. That no one ever returns from the Legion."
"You can believe it if you want. You can make it true, by becoming the scum others believe you to be. I won't stop you. And I won't stop you because I can't. If you have no honor left, you will be what they say. Marfik will become your personal hell."
"It doesn't have to be that way. Ignore what you heard before coming here, and look to your honor. It is the strength that will sustain you and the armor to shield you. The Legion offers you a new start. I challenge you to prove that you are warriors, men and women of worth. Earn my respect, if you can. It won't be easy."
"It's up to you. Think about it."
"I'll be speaking to each of you individually. For now, head to the barracks. Sho-sa Olivares will show you where to stow your gear. Check the roster for your interview time."
"Dismissed."
A tall black man caught Theodore's eye. Something about him was familiar, but Theodore could not recall having seen him before. His service cap was no help; the unit badges had been torn from it.
"You," he called, pointing at the man. "Come over here."
As the soldier approached, Theodore observed the left side of his collar. The fabric was frayed in places and a slightly darker color outlined the shape of a different insignia from the Chu-i's triple blue bars that glinted in the sunlight. The man had been demoted from the rank of Tai-i.
Theodore noted the curly black hair and the carefully tended mustache and goatee. He searched the lines of the man's face that was so naggingly familiar.
"What's your name?"
"Fuhito Tetsuhara, sir," the man replied in a deep, clear voice.
"I thought you looked vaguely familiar," Theodore said with a smile. "Minora Tetsuhara was one of my tutors. You must be his grandson."
"His son, sir," Fuhito said, shifting uncomfortably. Whether his discomfort was from having to correct his superior or due to the mere mention of the old warhorse's name, Theodore couldn't tell.
"Strong hara," Ninyu commented from behind him.
"Ease off, Kerai-kun," Theodore said, giving his friend a glance that meant he was serious. Ninyu looked offended.
Theodore reached out a hand to Fuhito's shoulder. "Come inside. I just rescheduled your interview for now. Leave your bag. Tai-i Kerai will stow it." He ignored Ninyu's annoyance, knowing he could square it with him later.
"Tell me, Fuhito-san, how is your family?" Theodore asked as he led the Chu-i into the building.
"Father and Mother are well, Tai-sa," Fuhito began haltingly. He was clearly not used to discussing his family with a superior officer. "Eldest brother Chu-sa Minobu has recovered from his accident and commands the Ryuken-m on the Galedon border. My other brother, Tai-i Yoshi, has received the red-and-back banner. I am here."
Theodore heard the rising bitterness in Fuhito's voice. He waved a hand at the couch to indicate that Fuhito should be seated, and then perched himself on the edge of his desk.
"Please accept my condolences on the death of Yoshi. He must have died valiantly to have received the banner. It is a great honor for a minor officer's name to be inscribed on the Great Wall of the Fallen Samurai. Your family is honored."
"We are ever servants of House Kurita," Fuhito intoned mechanically.
"I remember once seeing your eldest brother, Minobu, when he visited the court at Luthien. I was ten years old and quite surprised to see a black samurai, especially one with a Japanese name. I didn't know then that one did not have to be Japanese to embrace the code of bushido. Nor did I know that being Japanese did not automatically make one a believer in the code. I've learned much since my youth, including how to judge each man individually and to be wary of what others say about him."
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