Principles of Desolation

by Randall N Bills

  Finally he looked up. "Sang-wei Liao-Centrella. I am pleased to see you healthy."

  Danai couldn't help but note that Tao did not say, "Thank you for coming," "Welcome back," or any such niceties. He was happy she wasn't dead, but that seemed to be as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

  "I have a complete report of the activities on New Hessen," Tao said. "While I am not convinced the loss there merits disciplinary action, I am disappointed. More than disappointed." The volume of his voice started climbing. "Caught from behind. From behind! You realize, don't you, that your 'Mech is equipped with sensors! You allowed yourself to get sloppy. Careless!"

  Danai let her head sink, a combination of real shame and a desire to put on the appearance of shame. It didn't seem to help. Tao's lecture continued.

  "Avoiding rescue simply to find your 'Mech! Yes, your machine is a precious item, but is abandoning your duty to reclaim it the best way to serve the Confederation? Or is it another example of you putting personal preferences before the good of the state?"

  Danai assumed the question was rhetorical, and didn't answer. She could have responded, though, at length and with eloquence. Yen-lo-wang was not just a simple machine, and even calling it a "precious item" was a grievous understatement. It was a gift, a gift bequeathed to her by a legend who had believed in her potential when she was barely more than a toddler. It was a 'Mech she'd given a year of her life to make just right, a year where she'd traveled to parts of the Inner Sphere no one knew she'd been to and met with people no one knew she'd talked to. People who never would have spoken with her if she wasn't piloting Yen-lo-wang. After all that, how could she ever consider abandoning it?

  But she hadn't told anyone the details of how she'd made her machine what it was, and she wasn't going to let Tao be the first to hear the story. She sat silent and let him talk.

  "And then leaving the planet. Fleeing. With nothing. Your mission was a complete failure, and the road to Tikonov is more difficult to traverse than ever. All the loss of life and equipment meant nothing."

  So now Danai was to be held responsible for the actions of Erik Sandoval-Groell in declaring for House Davion and bringing the Swordsworn to New Hessen. The interview was going even worse than she had expected.

  "As I said previously, while your mission was clearly deeply flawed, I do not believe there was anything in your actions requiring discipline. However, there was also not anything in your actions that deserves this." He pointed to his noteputer. "This order arrived just before you did. From the chancellor himself. You are to be promoted."

  Danai blinked, then blinked again. Perhaps, she thought. Tao had suddenly switched to another language, one where "promoted" meant "severely punished." She sat quietly, waiting for him to explain what this "promotion" entailed.

  But Tao wasn't in the mood to spill any details right away. "I want you to understand that this is not my doing. I am following my orders, but without those orders a promotion for you would be the last thing on my mind. Is that clear?"

  "Yes, Sang-shao" Danai said, feeling impressed and mortified at the same time. It was quite rare for high- ranking Capellan officers to show anything other than total unity with their superiors. For Tao to feel he had to underline his disagreement with the orders meant he had a lot of independence for a Capellan officer (something MAC officers had assumed ever since their mercenary days)—and also that he was extremely upset with her. She'd have been angrier about his disapproval, except that she agreed with it.

  "You are being raised to the rank of sao-shao. Third Battalion is yours."

  "Thank—" The words died on Danai's lips. After what Tao had just said, thanking him for the promotion didn't seem appropriate.

  "You have little time," Tao continued, ignoring her aborted attempt at speech. "Chancellor Liao also orders you to prepare an attack."

  "Yes, Sang-shao. Where?"

  "Aldebaran. You are to choose two warriors to join you in your command lance, plan your attack and depart as quickly as possible. Your orders are simple—invade and secure Aldebaran for the Confederation. Understood?"

  "Yes, sir—except for one thing. Why only two others in my command lance?"

  "Because a third member has been chosen for you. You need someone who has experience with the Third Battalion, who knows its members and capabilities. Sang-wei Jacyn Bell has been assigned to serve in that capacity, to ease your transition into the unit. He knows the battalion quite well, and is considerably skilled. He will be an asset to your lance."

  Jacyn Bell—it was a name Danai thought she had heard, but she couldn't recall if she had ever seen his face. She thought she had heard mostly positive things about his skills, which hopefully would make up for any inherent male weakness he brought into the command.

  Tao stood, and Danai moved quickly to her feet as well.

  "Rewarding failure is not the way of the Confederation." Then, abruptly, his voice softened. "The main consolation I have in presenting you with this promotion is that you have shown your worth in the past year. You are a capable warrior. My concerns about this promotion are tied to its timing, not to any doubts about your abilities. I have hopes you will grow into your position, and I'm sure I do not need to tell you that the chancellor's impatience for failure far outstrips my own. He has high expectations of you—though I trust he has made that known to you over the years. You know what you must live up to. You are dismissed."

  Danai saluted her sang-shao, turned smartly and marched out of his office. She made sure to keep her spine straight and stride swift until she was out on the streets of Lianyungang. Then she stopped dead in her tracks and tried to absorb what had just happened. The sun shone from a deep blue sky, cloudless and cool. The light breeze was welcome, cooling the sweat that had broken out on her brow as soon as she left Tao's presence.

  Her first thought was a good one. She had her own battalion and she was taking it to Aldebaran. That, taken by itself, was exhilarating.

  But she'd already thought about Aldebaran during the briefing on the JumpShip. She'd ruled it out as a current possibility, because New Canton loomed nearby. A journey of little more than two weeks would land reinforcements from the capital of Prefecture VI on Aldebaran. If her victims somehow managed to get word of her approach before she arrived, the New Canton forces could be right on her heels. The Republic was in chaos, breaking up on all sides, but she couldn't assume the break was so severe that New Canton couldn't help its neighbors. When she planned her invasion, she'd have to take into account the reinforcements.

  This wasn't going to be easy. But since Daoshen had ordered it, it was what she had to do.

  At least she had the support of her commander. Kind of. His reaction to her promotion, while unpleasant, was not surprising. After every battle, every raid, he seemed to have a long list of her failures ready to rattle off the top of his head. Pleione, Shensi, St. Andre—all successful operations, but to hear Tao's version, all victories put at risk by Danai's blunders. To hear him now admit she had shown her worth was something like having a resurrected Hanse Davion appear and say that, on second thought, maybe he should have just left the Capellan Confederation alone. The profound disappointment and the unexpected praise he had uttered mere sentences apart set her off balance.

  So she had stumbled into the best opportunity of her career, and she well knew that the bigger the opportunity, the bigger the risk. At this point, a second consecutive failure could put her career—not to mention the Confederation's fortunes in Prefecture VI—on a steep downward slope.

  In short, she had a lot riding on her skills as a warrior and her ability to command a group larger than any she'd ever led.

  If anything could help her get back to her old self, that was it.

  6

  Jojoken, Andurien

  Duchy of Andurien

  2 November 3135

  The russet vines hung from every tree, sometimes looping all the way to the ground. Autumn flowers bloomed along most of the ropy plant
s, covering much of the dark red with blues, greens and purples. The trees themselves had leaves so light and sun-touched that they appeared almost blue. It looked quite exotic, Rickard thought, and stunning. And that was just one corner of the vast gardens that stretched below him.

  The window in front of Rickard was eight meters long and two meters high. It curved gently outward, allowing a beautiful panorama of the botanical gardens from twenty-three stories in the air.

  It was a wonderful setting for a waiting room, impressive and calming. Anyone who spent enough time here would more than likely be positively disposed toward the duke once an audience was finally granted.

  Rickard had been waiting a mere seven minutes. He figured he had anywhere from eight to twenty-three minutes left before the duke sent for him. Any shorter time and Duke Humphreys wouldn't seem busy enough.

  Much longer than a half-hour wait would seem rude and could lead to a minor diplomatic incident if Rickard felt so inclined. Surely, with so many dangerous neighbors on his borders, Duke Humphreys wouldn't risk offending the representative of one of them.

  As it turned out, Rickard waited exactly twenty-two minutes before a rosy-cheeked receptionist told him the duke would see him now.

  Rickard. able to play the game as well as Humphreys, set himself on a nice slow saunter to the duke's office, even stopping to admire an impressive green-and-blue piece of abstract holoart mounted on the corridor wall. Then he walked into the duke's private sanctum.

  The room gave the impression that the entire building had been designed around this particular space. The wall behind the duke's desk bulged outward, pushing over the spectacular gardens below. Birds of every color and variety flew in and out of trees, the birds and the trees both brought to Andurien from planets across the Inner Sphere. A better view of the gardens did not exist anywhere on Andurien, and the duke had perched himself directly in front of a broad series of windows displaying his planet's crowning glory.

  The rest of the office was deliberately muted, dark woods and subtle colors acting in concert to keep the focus on the view. It was a brilliant strategy except for one thing—Duke Ari Humphreys, perched in front of the windows, looked small, mild and unassuming. He, like the rest of the room, tended to shrink in relation to the gorgeous display of nature behind him. His tall leather chair dwarfed his 1.6-meter frame, and his small, round face on top of his squat body was decidedly unimpressive.

  He stood as Rickard entered, his expression bland. "Ambassador Rickard. Your visits are always looked forward to."

  Rickard noted the duke's careful use of the passive voice—in effect, he was saying someone looked forward to Rickard coming by, but he wasn't about to reveal who that individual was.

  Rickard's mission for this meeting allowed him no such evasions. He had instructions to be as direct and gracious as circumstances allowed.

  "I appreciate your making the time to see me,'' Rick- ard said. "I know there are plenty of things on your mind at the moment."

  "As it should ever be with the ruler of any great realm," the duke said, striving for grace and magnanimity. His high, thin voice couldn't quite pull it off. "Of course, seeing as how the realm you represent is one of my many concerns, it would be irresponsible not to receive you, wouldn't it?"

  Again, Rickard could find a way to be insulted by that remark, but his orders didn't allow for it,

  "If the Magistracy is a concern to you," Rickard said, "then I hope it is a concern we can lay to rest before this meeting is over. As you well know, the Magistracy has never been an aggressive nation, so you can be assured that our intentions toward our Andurien neighbors are peaceful."

  The first part of Rickard's statement was not strictly true, but since the most notable act of Canopian aggression had come as part of a joint effort with the Andu- riens, he was fairly certain the duke wouldn't bother to correct him.

  "And as I'm sure you remember," Rickard continued, "a long history of friendship exists between the Andu- riens and the Magistracy. I want to assure you that, in light of the growing chaos in the Inner Sphere and the recent dissolution of much of the Republic of the Sphere, our friendship will continue. We will not let shifts of power compromise our loyalties."

  Humphreys sniffed, his short, narrow nose twitching. "Dissolution. Funny word for it, isn't it? You make it sound like the Republic dissolved solely through executive fiat. 'Disintegration' would perhaps be a better word. Or 'shattering.' Such words capture the event better. don't you agree?"

  Rickard wasn't about to get dragged into an argument on semantics. "Certainly, your grace." Whatever words one chose to describe it, the battle over the far-off Republic had its effects on the Duchy of Andurien. As neighbors like the Oriente Protectorate and Capellan Confederation moved to claim the remains left on the Republic's table, they would grow more powerful while the Duchy essentially stood pat. Long ago, when the Free Worlds League was still a political entity, the Duchy had been protected from Capellan aggression by the strength of the many worlds behind it, all united in a mighty state. Now, the Duchy had not only lost the support of its former neighbors, but had gained a second insecure border on its coreward side.

  "I am. of course, well aware of past cooperation between the Magistracy of Canopus and the Duchy of Andurien," the duke said. "However—and please. Ambassador, correct me if I am mistaken—I believe such cooperation was directed against the neighboring Capellan Confederation, a nation that has always posed a threat to both our states. Situations have changed—haven't they?—in the intervening decades. Specifically, the Magistracy does not seem to feel the same antipathy toward the Capellans that your nation used to possess."

  "Times have indeed changed," Rickard said smoothly. "While the Magistracy has entered into a new era of understanding with the Confederation, that does not mean that—"

  Rickard got no further. Duke Humphreys could not contain himself any longer. His composure, his formal speech and his bland expression all dropped away as he jumped to his feet.

  " 'New era of understanding'!" he yelled. "What the hell kind of language is that? Bloody hell, man, call a spade a spade. You have a Liao on the throne. A Liaol I could call you an ally of the Capellans, but even that would be wrong. You're a damned suburbl You are Capellans, only with more sex and better hors d'oeuvres! 'New era of understanding' my ass!"

  The duke sat down. His blank expression returned, like the curtain falling across a stage at play's end.

  Rickard fervently wished he could take self-righteous offense at the duke's remarks, but his mission didn't allow it. He was forced to act as if he had not just received one of the gravest insults of his diplomatic career.

  "We have a Centrella on the throne," he said mildly, "as we have had since our founding. Yes, she is also the daughter of Sun-Tzu Liao, but can she be held accountable for her mother's romantic decisions? I assure you she is as complete a Centrella as any who have ever sat on the Canopian throne."

  "Your assurance means little when your magestrix is the sister of the Capellan chancellor. When the two of them travel the Inner Sphere in tandem, practically arm in arm. Ilsa cannot help but differ from her predecessors. Her family necessitates it."

  Rickard leaned forward. "May I be candid, your grace?" The duke waved his hand in what Rickard assumed was a gesture of assent. "A fair number of people in the Magistracy share at least a portion of your reservations. Capellan society and Canopian society are . . . different. Incompatible, really. So the new closeness between the two nations is quite disconcerting. But let me tell you something—with each year that passes, the alliance gets easier and easier for our people to accept. The muttering grows quieter. Would you like to know why? Because each year, our people see two things. First, the Magistracy is still the Magistracy. Our people are still free, our pleasure circuses still roam the Inner Sphere, bringing in vast resources to the state. And second, the Magistracy is safe. One of our most intimidating enemies is now our friend, and not only are we safe from Capellan aggr
ession, but we also have Capellan assistance against any other threats. Let me tell you—that's more than a little peace of mind. Look at your duchy, look at what's left of the Republic of the Sphere. Isn't a little peace of mind worth something right now?"

  The duke frowned but did not speak for a moment. He steepled his index fingers and pressed them against his upper lip. He looked like a thoughtful grapefruit.

  Finally, he spoke. "Your faith in Canopian resilience is admirable. But these kinds of political entanglements do not, cannot come without cost. It is impossible for two nations to have an exactly compatible set of goals and priorities, and where those goals and priorities differ, there will be a need for compromise. Or a need for one nation to subordinate its will to the other. You may justify this all you want, you may continually proclaim the value of safety, but your alliance does not come without a price. To all appearances, your magestrix is now the Capellan chancellor's subordinate. What you call an alliance looks to the outside eye very much like subjugation."

  Rickard was careful not to smile. While the duke thought he had just made a decisive pronouncement against the possibility of an alliance, he had actually walked down the exact path Rickard wanted him to travel.

  "The history of the Magistracy of Canopus," Rickard said, "is the history of outsiders underestimating the abilities of our rulers. I'd like to think that our long list of leaders would compare favorably, if not surpass, those of any other nation. They have preserved us and enriched us, generally against the odds, for centuries. They should never be easily dismissed—but it seems they always are.

  "Don't dismiss llsa now," Rickard continued, purposefully using the magestrix's first name instead of her title. "She may travel with her brother, but she is no subordinate. And she has wiles, tricks and methods of which he knows nothing."