Principles of Desolation

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Principles of Desolation Page 14

by Randall N Bills


  She fervently hoped for the latter result.

  Anderton and his troops were making it difficult. She'd finally spotted his command 'Mech two days after they left Jifang Po. She had first noticed it because of the way it reflected the sunlight—it was polished to an abnormal brightness. It was a Thunderbolt, modified to launch twenty LRMs instead of the normal fifteen, and it walked at a stately pace that seemed wholly consistent with the Anderton she had encountered on the comm. He stayed in the rear of his troops, firing missiles and gauss rounds occasionally, but for the most part surveying his lines and, Danai assumed, directing the battle rather than participating in it. To her that seemed like a waste of a heavy 'Mech, but each commander had his own style.

  She hadn't seen him long. Her command had already mobilized when Anderton and his troops came in sight, and after a short skirmish Danai withdrew. She would have loved to engage Anderton head-on, but his first wave was closely followed by reinforcements, and—as had been the case all week—Danai needed to retreat or risk losing a substantial part of her forces.

  She'd tried every maneuver she could think of to outflank the Triarii and engage a small number of them instead of the whole battalion, but each time Anderton had responded quickly. He was maintaining tight control over his units, keeping them close together so they could respond to anything Danai attempted. The Triarii were not the most imaginative foes Danai had encountered— for all their numerical superiority, Anderton hadn't yet managed to mount a serious offensive assault—but they were disciplined, moving well in unison and responding to orders with rapid precision.

  Against Sandra's objections, Danai had tried to take advantage of the Triarii's lack of tactical sophistication by going against one of the prime lessons she'd learned in academy, dividing her force when outnumbered. She wanted to draw the Triarii one way with a feint by her faster units, then slam into the opposite side of the Republican forces with the bulk of her command. But An- derton's forces hadn't taken the bait—they'd simply stayed back, hammered the small Capellan 'Mechs with their artillery and long-range weapons, and remained cohesive to prevent Danai from making her planned second assault. In the end, she'd had to call back her entire force to keep the Triarii from advancing on her divided troops before she could bring them all back together.

  All that would change soon. She'd put out a call to Liao as soon as she left Jifang Po City, stating her situation and asking for reinforcements. She had gone to great lengths to explain the opportunity at hand, saying that with a modicum of new troops she could reduce an entire Triarii battalion to rubble and secure Aldebaran. She hadn't received any official response, but what she had received was even better. A Capellan JumpShip had arrived in the Aldebaran system four days ago, and a DropShip had been making a beeline toward Aldebaran.

  True, it was only a single DropShip—Danai had radioed Yun on her command ship a number of times to confirm that—but it was something. Even a single DropShip, especially one of the larger ones, would give her enough fresh forces to put together a more convincing offensive. Any time, she should receive information on where the forces planned to land. She'd connect with them, then teach Anderton and his Triarii how Capellan warriors fought.

  But that was the future. In the here and now, she'd sought a place to stop for the past hour, someplace that might have at least a few meters of elevation above the surrounding countryside, or some sort of defensive value that would justify a halt. But the terrain was either flat grassland or farmland, and so Danai's command pushed on.

  Finally, two hours after sunset. Danai told her units to stop. The terrain remained unchanged, but the Kite reconnaissance team reported that the Triarii had halted their pursuit, so the Capelians had opened up an acceptably large gap. Danai didn't want the gap to be too large—once she had her reinforcements, she'd want to be able to turn around and get on top of the Triarii in short order.

  As had been her custom in the past eight days, she invited her command lance into her quarters for a debriefing on the day's activities and a little socializing. The latter aspect had gotten easier each day; while Sandra and Clara still occasionally acted like siblings vying for a mother's affection, and Bell still enjoyed poking holes in their egos whenever he had a chance, the trust warriors needed to have in one another had worn down some of their sharpest edges. Some rough patches remained, and Danai still didn't rule out the possibility of a fistfight between any of her lance members, but at least such a fight was far less likely to break out after a long day of marching and skirmishing.

  The debriefing went rapidly, as they had spent most of their time moving over farmland, and soon they were on to socializing. Danai poured a round of drinks, including some mao-tai for herself, and the four of them stretched their legs as best they could around the small metal table in the cramped front room of Danai's mobile quarters.

  "Did anyone else see that farmer earlier this afternoon?" Bell was saying. "The one next to the pile of hay? I think he was yelling at us the entire time we went by, but I couldn't make out any words."

  "Curses," Clara said. "Extraordinary strings of vulgarity, really. He used one particular word as an adverb, adjective and noun in a single clause. Quite impressive."

  "We should have set his entire farm on fire," Sandra said darkly. "Then he'd have something to curse about."

  "Now, now," Clara said primly. "He's going to be our subject soon."

  "Right," Bell said, "and we'll introduce him to the Maskirovka. That should put a smile on his face."

  Danai and Clara grinned, while Sandra chuckled nervously.

  "Maybe we shouldn't joke about that." Sandra said.

  "Why not?" Bell said. "Are you Maskirovka?"

  "No."

  "Is it because you applied, and they didn't accept you?"

  "No!"

  Danai leaned forward. "No one here's Maskirovka. Especially not Sandra."

  Sandra shot Danai a look, clearly worried that Danai was going to go into more detail, but Danai had no intention of revealing what she knew. Sandra and Danai had served in the same lance for a good while, and Sandra had spent a significant amount of time in the company of a "diplomatic liaison" whom everyone else had already pegged as a Maskirovka agent. Gossip claiming Sandra was Maskirovka as well had spread throughout the regiment, and that, combined with a particularly unpleasant breakup with the liaison, had pretty well soured her on the agency, even though she sympathized with their goals of supporting correct thought.

  "The Maskirovka have no way of hearing this conversation," Danai continued. "I've seen to that as best I could."

  To change the subject, Sandra asked the question that Danai felt certain was on all of their minds. "Any word from the reinforcements yet? Do we know where we're going to meet them?"

  "I haven't heard a thing. Remember, for all we know, there are no reinforcements. We only know there's a DropShip on the way. We don't know if it's even military. It's not time to count our chickens yet." She said that despite the fact that she had been counting chickens almost constantly for the past four days.

  "If it's not reinforcements, I say we revolt," Bell said. "Take this planet for ourselves, set up our own nation here."

  Sandra's eyes widened. "I don't think . . ."

  But Clara cut her off. "And we put Danai in as supreme executive, making you . . . what? Court jester?"

  Bell shook his head ruefully. "No, no, no, I'm afraid we can't have that. Danai as chief executive, I mean. Really, does the Inner Sphere need another Liao- Centrella on the throne? It's just too much baggage. I'm afraid it would put a crushing burden on our new nation. I'm sorry."

  "Quite all right," Danai said magnanimously. "In truth, having the three of you in my command is pretty much sucking all the joy of power right out of me. I'm happy to pass the title on to someone else. Any suggestions?"

  Bell cleared his throat. "Well, now that you mention it . . ."

  "What a surprise," Clara said dryly.

  "Oh, come on, I'm the p
erfect candidate. I'm young, good-looking and not pure Capellan like the rest of you."

  "I don't see what's wrong with being pure Capellan!" Sandra said hotly.

  "Nothing, nothing at all," said Bell, holding up his hands defensively. "You know and I know that you're the noblest of the noble. But, you see, in everybody else's eyes, those of us with some Canopian background are widely regarded to be much more fun than you Capellans. I'm sure our sao-shao will back me up on this."

  "We're a barrel of laughs," Danai said somberly.

  "There you have it. So we're a little easier to accept than you. We're fun. and you're ... well, you're ... not."

  "It's just jealousy. They envy our perfection," Clara said sardonically. Sandra nodded, missing the irony in Clara's tone.

  "And, of course, I'd have roles for all of you. Clara, you can have the military. It's all yours. Sandra, you can be my Minister of Posture. Make sure all our people know how to walk like they have a broomstick lodged in their asses."

  Sandra started to protest, but Danai waved her off. When Bell had a head of steam like this, it was pointless to protest or take offense. He'd shut himself up soon enough, if only to take a drink.

  "So our beloved Sao-shao Liao-Centrella not only doesn't get the throne, but she doesn't get the military?" Clara asked. "You're not doing much to get her to buy into your plan."

  "That's only because you haven't heard the entire plan," Bell said. "While Danai might not be the best choice for chief executive, I'll never deny her brilliance or political usefulness. That's why I've decided to make her my consort."

  Clara laughed and Danai groaned. "You've just turned me into your first insurgent," Danai said.

  "Just give me a chance!" Bell protested. "I'll treat you like a queen—okay, queen of only a single planet instead of sister of the chancellor of the entire Confederation, sure, but still—a queen! Chocolates every day! Foot massages! And in the bedroom—ah, in the bedroom . . ."

  "That's enough," Danai said. She didn't think anyone could miss the sudden ice in her tone, but Bell did.

  "I guarantee those are two words you'll never use again once we've spent our first night together as king and queen," he said. "I don't want to brag, but . . ."

  "That's enough!" Danai banged her glass on the metal table, leaving a fist-sized dent in its thin surface. The echoing crack left everyone in the room silent for a moment.

  Then, amazingly, possibly for the first time since she had known him. Bell let a subject go. "What's the weather look like for tomorrow?" he asked. It was the blandest, safest of subjects—Danai supposed it was a peace offering, and probably the closest he'd ever come to an apology.

  The conversation drifted for a few more minutes until it was interrupted by an intermittent buzzing. Danai, who had already downed three glasses of mao-tai, looked around helplessly before identifying the source of the noise. It was the comm, telling her someone was trying to reach her.

  "Excuse me," she said, then stumbled over and flicked a switch on the comm. "Go ahead," she said.

  Kay Cheung's voice replied. "Sorry to interrupt, Sao- shao, but there's an incoming vehicle. Another Kite, actually."

  "Have you made contact?"

  "Yes, Sao-shao. It's a courier looking for you."

  Danai almost leapt to her feet. "A courier?" she exclaimed.

  "Yes, Sao-shao."

  Danai's hands, which had started trembling when she yelled at Bell, were shaking visibly now. She was ready to get into Yen-lo-wang and start hacking something, anything, into pieces.

  "Send the courier directly to my quarters," she said, then flicked off the comm. She stood and paced around the small room, a fairly useless exercise since every other step she had to avoid tripping over a chair leg.

  "Maybe the courier's here to tell us how many reinforcements are on the way and when they'll get here," Sandra ventured.

  Danai stopped pacing and put her hands on her hips, willing them to stillness. She inhaled deeply, then exhaled. "Maybe," she said, though she didn't believe it. If reinforcements were on the way, they'd just come. There wasn't a good reason to go to the expense of hiring a courier to deliver a message that could be more easily relayed through laser comm from the incoming DropShip.

  This was something else. "All the same, the three of you better stay here in case the courier doesn't tell me what I want to hear and I decide to rip his throat out."

  "Just so I'm clear on this," Bell said. "Are we supposed to stop you from killing him or help out?"

  Danai glared at the door the courier was about to enter. "I'll let you know," she said.

  7 December 3135

  "The threat has ended," Major Anderton announced. "The Capelians have fled the planet."

  He spoke as if addressing a multitude, and he paused as if expecting to be overwhelmed by thunderous applause. However, his audience consisted of Governor Sampson, Legate Sophia Juk and a few members of Sampson's staff. Legate Juk, for her part, kept her arms firmly folded across her chest.

  Anderton did not look like he had been on an eight- day campaign harassing Capellan troops across the Al- debarian grasslands. Every strand of his hair was in its proper place, he wore his dress uniform rather than his field clothing, and he looked well fed and well rested. Ready for the cameras, which made it a shame none were there.

  "We are in your debt, Major," Sampson said. "Your timely arrival averted disaster. I will be making a full report to the lord governor of the prefecture, and I will include our gratitude for the troops he sent and our admiration for the job you performed against highly skilled soldiers in a dark time. We could not be more appreciative."

  Sophia gritted her jaw. She, too, was grateful for the Triarii assistance, and she had no doubt that without them. Aldebaran would have fallen. But aside from her instant personal dislike of Anderton, she didn't like Anderton and Sampson's assumption that the threat had ended. It was temporarily averted, but she did not believe the Capellan Confederation had set aside the goal of conquest quite yet.

  "In my communication with New Canton, I shall also request your continued presence on Aldebaran," Sampson said. "You have already proven your worth to our planet, and we hope that keeping you garrisoned here for a time may avert any future hostilities."

  "I certainly understand the motivation for that request," Anderton said, "as without us you would be helpless. However, as you well know, there are plenty of other disturbances throughout the prefecture at this time, and I can't guarantee that we will be left here to wait for hostilities when there are so many other ongoing battles where we can deliver immediate assistance. I would be pleased to stay here, but I must go where I am ordered."

  Sophia was glad she had kept her arms folded, because her elbows were concealing her clenched fists. "I wouldn't characterize Aldebaran as 'helpless,' " she said. "As I recall, our units fought right alongside yours when we drove the Capellans out of the city."

  Anderton smiled like a holovid anchorman. "Yes, Legate, but as I recall your militia was being pounded when we arrived. In fact, the only reason the Capellans managed to take shelter in the center of the city was that they shattered your lines. Had we not arrived, I can only imagine the military situation would have worsened from there."

  Sophia dropped her arms to her sides, no long caring if Anderton saw her fists. "My troops gave everything they had! I'm not going to stand here while you casually dismiss their sacrifice!"

  "I have no doubt your soldiers gave their all," Anderton said, his even tones not changing a bit. "That seems to be the problem—their all was not enough to hold off the enemy."

  She turned to Sampson. "Governor, I have to protest the efforts of our troops being—"

  Sampson raised a hand to cut her off. "This should be a happy time," he said. "Our planet has been delivered. We shouldn't be bickering over credit."

  "Bickering over credit?" Sophia said. "This isn't about creditl This is about respect! This is about—"

  "This is about to end,"
Sampson said. "I'm going to celebrate Aldebaran's freedom. You two may continue to argue if you wish, but I refuse to believe that's the best way to spend this glorious day."

  Sophia unclenched her fists and smoothed her uniform. "I'm going to meet with my troops," she said. "We will take a final account of our losses, continue making repairs as rapidly as possible, and get ready for the inevitable return of the Capelians. We will be ready to hold off the Capelians with or without Triarii assistance."

  "I admire the legate's passion on behalf of her people," Anderton said. "Still, Governor, I would send off that message you mentioned. If you want your planet's freedom maintained, it would likely be in your best interest to keep my battalion on it."

  Sophia didn't listen to what he said. Instead, she pictured what he would look like with a black eye and a swollen jaw. It was satisfying, but not as satisfying as actually hitting him.

  14

  Zi-jin Cheng, Sian

  Capellan Confederation

  7 December 3135

  Perhaps someday, if Erde worked hard enough and won Daoshen over, she'd convince him to meet somewhere besides his throne room. The fact that all the servants and hangers-on in the immediate vicinity insisted on referring to Daoshen as "God Incarnate" was bad enough; but the throne room was simply not built for comfort (at least, not for the comfort of anyone but Daoshen). This was now her third meeting with him, and on the second she had at least persuaded him to provide her with a simple wooden chair. She sat there, a good meter and a half below Daoshen, and attempted to hold a friendly conversation. It would be so much easier, more comfortable, if they could sit together at a table, sipping tea and simply chatting.

  No doubt Daoshen would not share her assessment of the situation. There was no place in the universe more comfortable for him than where he was now, perched on his throne, surrounded by loyal servants, perpetually basking in his own glory.

 

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