"What is it?" he asked.
"I request that you accompany me on a short journey."
"A short journey to where?"
"It is a surprise, Star Captain."
Her words and actions were surprise enough for Trent. In all the time that Judith had been his bondsman, she had never asked for anything. She knew her place, and did not normally overstep the bounds. The fact that she did now seemed significant.
"Very well, Judith. I only hope it is a pleasant one." Trent could certainly use something pleasant in his life these days. She nodded. "I trust you will enjoy it, sir."
* * *
Trent and Judith did not speak much during the two-hour hovercar journey along the Braddock Pike. Judith was at the wheel, while Trent looked out the side window, taking in the last of the summer afternoon. They said nothing even when they passed the former turnoff for what had been the village of Chinn. Trent felt Judith look over at him as they sped past, but he did not turn his head. There was no longer any sign directing drivers on the Pike to the road, but Trent knew where it led. To ruins, and among them, death.
Judith turned off the pike and onto a dirt road so little used that it was overgrown with weeds. The hovercar skirts rattled slightly as the tall grasses slapped against them as Judith drove straight ahead. She was not using any map that Trent saw, which told him she had been to this place, this surprise, before.
The ground rose to form sharp hills and low ridges, all covered with grasses and brush, green against the bright blue sky of the Hyner afternoon. Judith pulled off the road and drove for nearly a kilometer cross-country before bringing the hovercar to a stop in front of a long snaking mound of dirt, obscured by centuries of growth. She stopped and shut off the car engine, then opened her door. Trent followed silently as she walked toward the long mound, finally stopping directly in front of it. He stood at her side and watched her curiously.
"Today," Judith said, "is my birthday."
Trent cocked his left eyebrow, the only one he had. "Birth day?"
"You are trueborn, Star Colonel, but I am not. I am free-born and was raised on Terra. By tradition, we freeborns celebrate the day of our birth."
Trent did not fully understand the cause for such a celebration, but acknowledged her statement as best he could. "You are Clan now, Judith. Though we do not mark such occasions, I can understand that you were formed by other ways and traditions. If this is a day that is special for you, then I wish you a good birth day."
She smiled. "Thank you. We are not so different, though, Star Colonel. Though you were bred and born of the Clans, sometimes I wonder if you truly fit in."
At another time in his life Trent might have taken offense at such a comment by a bondsman, much less a freebirth. But Judith had come to represent one of the few supports around him. He counted on her skill, and he had come to trust her.
"You see much," he said, rubbing his jaw, which was still sore and bruised black and blue. "But that does not stand in the way of my duties and obligations, Judith. That is the way of the Clans."
"I heard from the other techs . . . what you did," she said hesitantly, as though not sure whether she might be overstepping herself even further. "They told me that you fought in protest over the destruction of Chinn. You believed it was wrong."
"Taking the lives of innocents does not strengthen the Smoke Jaguars. To the contrary, I believe it weakens us. Nicholas Kerensky never intended for us to be ruthless killers or heartless conquerors, but the upholders of a new Star League. But I lost, and that is the end of the matter."
"You say it is over, but in your heart you know it is not," Judith said. "I understand that. In the Inner Sphere, such atrocities would not have been permitted or tolerated."
"Be wary, Judith. You hover close to treason," Trent said, but he gave her a sad smile that told her he was not angry.
"I was born and raised on Terra," she said, a faraway look in her eyes. "Fourth-generation ComStar. When I was growing up, every year on this day, my family gave a party to commemorate another year of life. And it was our tradition to give gifts on the birth day."
Trent felt a slight twinge of guilt. "I have nothing to offer you, Judith. Nothing but my respect."
"I have been studying you, Star Captain," she said. "You and I may have more in common than it seems. I have seen you play chess with Star Commander Russou. It is one of my own favorite games. We both have a love of history too. That is why I brought you to this place."
She reached over and pulled back the vines covering a portion of the steep hillside. There was something underneath, something metallic. Trent was startled to see that it was a hatch-like door set into the hillside. It looked old, perhaps centuries old. He stepped forward and bent to have a better look. The door was marked with an insignia, worn down but still visible enough to make out. It was a star with one point extending outward to the right. The Cameron Star, symbol of the glorious Star League.
"On this birthday, to honor your efforts in favor of Chinn, I offer you a gift, Star Captain," Judith said, tugging at the door and opening it away from the hillside. The hinges groaned in protest, but Judith was strong. Trent could see that some sort of a room lay in the dark shadows, a chamber vast and almost tomblike. He stepped through the door slowly, with reverence, Judith close behind him.
"This place . . ." he began.
"Is a Castle Brian. The one you have been scouring the databases to try and find. The locals knew about it mostly by rumor. They told me of it because they do not view me as truly a member of the Clan."
Such fortifications had been scattered across the Star League at its peak. Hidden bases where the Star League Defense Forces of Aleksandr Kerensky's time had defended the worlds of the long-lost golden age of humanity. For the Clans, who had come to the Inner Sphere to reestablish the Star League, anything connected to that era was virtually sacred.
"This is venerable ground," Trent breathed as he stepped into the dimly lit room. It was thick with a layer of dust, but in one corner he saw some obviously ancient storage crates still piled up where they had been left centuries before, the wood crumbling and decayed. The walls, faded and cracked over time, still showed faint traces of the lettering marking directions to other chambers that lay within.
"It is our secret, sir," she added.
"Secret?"
"Aff, Star Captain. I offer this as a place where we can come to talk, to think. And for now, I ask that we do not tell the others about it."
"You must know how much this means to me," Trent said, gesturing around him. "The restoration of the Star League is the one and only reason we left our homeworlds and came here to invade the Inner Sphere."
"I do not wish to see this place desecrated by those who tarnish our Clan," Judith said.
Her voice was soft, but these were bold words. Trent nearly reprimanded her, but he understood her sentiments.
Thoughts of Jez Howell and Paul Moon flashed through his mind. How often he had thought that their behavior, their thinking, their manipulations, their trickery were a stain on the glory of the Smoke Jaguars.
"Aye, Judith. For now, this is a place for us alone."
"Thank you, Star Colonel," she said. "That pleases me."
Trent nodded. "This is a most honored gift. In another time and place, we would have been free to become friends. But for now, the ways of the Clan separate us." He lowered his eyes in sudden embarrassment, wishing for the first time in his existence that the taboos between castes were not so rigid.
"That is true, and yet you have made me a Smoke Jaguar. I have learned to accept my place among a people who prize honor so highly. But if honor is prized by the warrior caste— the highest and best of the Clans—how can we explain what has been happening here on Hyner?"
"A warrior serves, Judith. I know not what else to tell you," Trent hedged, fearing he would say too much. She was a bondsman and a freebirth. As a member of the warrior caste, he was bound to maintain both his dignity and his positio
n.
"In the Inner Sphere you would have been admired for the courage of your protests. Yet here your comrades scorn you for your convictions. I also hear people say that you are reaching an age that is old for a warrior, yet where I come from an experienced warrior is honored and revered. These things I do not understand."
"It is the way of the Smoke Jaguars," Trent said. How could he admit that he understood them even less?
"We are speaking frankly, Star Captain, as we have done once or twice before. Now that you have seen other ways, the ways of the Inner Sphere, do you ever wonder what your life would have been had you not been born a Clansman?"
Trent sighed a deep breath, not minding the mustiness of the room. "I often wonder what it would have been to serve under the great General Kerensky, to have been one of those who followed him into the unknown, who turned their backs on the pettiness and greediness of the Inner Sphere."
Judith had followed him into the dark chamber, lighting the space with an electric lantern she had pulled from her pack. "Do you ever wonder about Terra? I have heard so much about how the Clans yearn to stand as victors on the soil of humanity's homework!, and yet you have never asked me about it. You know that I was bora and raised there."
"Aye, Judith. But now is a good time—tell me about Terra."
"It is like every place I have ever been, but unlike them as well. It is my home, and yet it is also the home of every other being in the Inner Sphere."
Trent nodded. "And that is what the Clans are for me, Judith. They are the home of everything I am and ever hope to be. Yet, I suddenly feel like an outsider, like one who can never go home. Perhaps you felt some of this when the Word of Blake faction split off from the rest of your ComStar."
Judith was quiet for a long time. When she began to speak it was in an almost dreamy, faraway voice. "I began my career training to be a member of the intelligence arm of ComStar, but when I showed other skills, other potentials, my superiors decided to train me as a warrior of Com Guard. I was steeped in the mysticism of the ComStar Order, and yet my training also included the pragmatism of the warrior."
"The home you left does not exist."
Judith tapped one finger at the side of her head. "As long as I am alive, it exists."
Trent nodded in agreement, tapping his own head just above the nob that had once been his right ear. "I too carry home with me."
"Star Colonel Trent, you must know this about me and know it now. I was an intelligence officer first—a member of ROM. Even from this planet, it is possible for me to activate and use my connections to ComStar should I deem it necessary. I have not done so. But that is because I am more loyal to you than to the Smoke Jaguars. I hoped that I could find a place in the Clan, but I only find myself wanting more."
She watched his face for a few moments before going on. "We could leave here, if you wish. There are no lack of units in the Inner Sphere with ties to the Star League. Not just the Com Guards, but the Eridani Light Horse and the Northwind Highlanders. All claim some link to an honorable past. Should the moment present itself, you have only to say the word and I can arrange for us to depart the Jaguars."
Hearing her speak, Trent was gripped by an inner terror he had never known before. "You have crossed the line, Judith. What you speak is treason." ,
"Aff, but a warrior, a true warrior, must always weigh all strategic and tactical options. I, like you, remember my training well. All that I am doing is informing you that other options exist."
Trent felt the seduction of her words, but he pushed away thoughts of exile, thoughts of turning against his Clan. There was still hope, still a chance to prove that the heart of the Jaguar did not beat black.
"We shall speak of this no more," he said, letting his gaze travel around the room. "In such places where honorable men once stood and breathed, treason is best left unspoken."
"Treason is determined by the victor. One man's traitor is another man's patriot."
Trent nodded. Overcome by finding this place and listening so such talk, he hardly knew what he said. "Aye, Judith, aye."
15
Smoke Jaguar Planetary Command Post
Warrenton, Hyner
Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone
2 April 3055
Star Colonel Paul Moon stood in the very heart of the Hyner command bunker and activated the holographic imaging system so that his subordinates could see what he already knew. The circular room, its tiered floor lined with computer terminals and tactical displays, was more like an amphitheater than a command post. As the holographic display came to life, the gathered officers looked up while the technicians kept their eyes on the data flowing across their screens.
Present at the meeting was the entire command structure of the Smoke Jaguar Delta Galaxy's Third Jaguar Cavaliers—every Binary and Trinary commander and their Star commanders. This was the Cluster known as the Storm-riders, and all present, including Trent, wore their pristine gray uniforms.
Looking around, it suddenly struck him how young were the others. He knew that he was approaching ripe age for a warrior, but it had not really hit him until this moment. And yet he had something they did not. He thought of the Castle Brian, his and Judith's secret meeting place. These young warriors dream of the return of the Star League, but I have seen and smelted and touched and stood in a piece of it.
He also had his scars, horrific proof of his life as a warrior. Some of those scars ran deeper, however, even though not visible to the eye. Scars like those left behind by his honor duel with Paul Moon several months ago. The injuries had healed, but only on the surface.
The image that came to life was a tactical display showing the planet Hyner and its three continents spinning in the air above them. Moving toward the planet were four small red dots of light, barely noticeable as they closed the distance.
"What you are seeing," Paul Moon began in his deepest command tone, "are elements of a Draconis Combine raiding force that have just appeared at a pirate jump point and begun heading toward Hyner. These raiders are traveling in Union Class DropShips, which tells us that the force consists of at least one Inner Sphere battalion."
"This is hardly worthy of our attention, Star Colonel," said Oleg Nevversan, the rusty-haired Star Captain of Trinary Assault. "This is a paltry force they send against us. They pose no threat either to Hyner or to The Stormriders. And besides, we no longer engage in batchalls with Inner Sphere units." A low rumble of agreement followed, and many nods of the head. Trent knew it was true. The forces of the Inner Sphere had proved so deceitful in their dealings that the Jaguars considered them beneath the dignity of the formal battle challenge, or batchall. Trent watched the moving points of red light, unable to tear his eyes away.
"From what we can tell, this is not a regular House unit, but a band of filthy mercenaries," Paul Moon continued.
"Even less impressive," Tamera Osis of the First Battle Trinary said, her gray-purple neural interface seeming to shimmer over her face in the light reflected from the holoimage. "We speak as if this were even worthy of a bid."
Jez Howell spoke up next. "Where is their projected LZ, Star Colonel?" She stood near Trent, but had left just enough distance to show she was not associated with him in any way.
Paul Moon adjusted some hand-held controls and a green image appeared around the city of Warrenton, where they now stood. "Projections indicate they intend to land on our continent."
"What is their intended target? Surely they cannot think they have enough force to take on our planetary garrison base, quineg?"" queried an Elemental officer in charge of one of the Stars of Trinary Assault.
Moon shook his head. "Neg. I do not believe they would risk such a goodly number of troops in a strike that could only be suicidal. I do not know what their target is. You should factor that into your bidding."
Trent stared at the continent where Warrenton was located, and saw a glowing green area that demarcated the possible landing area for the raiders. Glancing around the
room, he noticed a number of his fellow Jaguars shaking their heads in puzzlement.
But Trent thought he understood. From a purely military standpoint, a raid on Hyner might not make sense, but the Inner Sphere way of life was so different from the way of the Clans. Trent was sure this force was coming to reinforce and re-supply the resistance effort on Hyner. They had no way of knowing that it was too late, that the Kat Killer Five had been crushed. All hope of rebellion had vanished forever on Hyner.
"If I may, Star Colonel, I believe I know what their target is," he said.
Paul Moon raised his eyebrows in mock surprise and gave a small laugh of contempt. "I am sure I speak for all present here in saying that none of us have any interest in your opinion in this matter, Star Captain Trent."
The nods and grunts of approval pained Trent, as did the looks of scorn on the faces around him. This is my Clan, my blood and life. Now they treat me as an outsider, less worthy of notice than a common bandit. He felt ashamed, not for himself, but for his fellow officers. His jaw tightened as he leaned over to speak to Jez Howell. She was, after all, his commanding officer.
"You may hate me," he whispered. "But I can help you win this bid. I know where they will land."
"You are sure, quiaff?"
"Aff."
"Very well," she replied. "I will bid accordingly. But know this, Trent. If you are wrong, you will answer to me."
* * *
Three days had passed, and as Trent adjusted his position in the seat of his cockpit for what seemed to be the thousandth time, he watched the sky through the trees of the dense swamp. It was from here that the Kat Killer Five had operated—the long-forgotten methane refinery. It was here that the mercenary forces would land. He was sure of it not only because of his studies of Inner Sphere history, but by a kind of gut feeling, a tactical instinct that he had come to trust in his life as a warrior.
His Star and elements of two other Binaries were positioned in the swamp, half-buried in the mire, running in a low-power mode that would make their reactors difficult to pick up until the enemy was on top of them. At the edge of the swamp, the field technicians, Judith among them, would remain concealed until needed. It was reassuring to him that his bondsman was out there near the combat she had been denied so long.
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