Exodus road

by Blaine Lee Pardoe

  "Star Captain Jez Howell is dead," Moon said like someone reciting a line from The Remembrance. "She died a hero in battle against a foe striking at the Smoke Jaguar. That is how she is to be remembered."

  Trent nodded but said nothing. His mind was dancing with excitement, but he kept it from showing on his face. Moon stared at him. "Do you not agree, Star Captain?"

  "Aye, Star Colonel Moon."

  "These mercenaries have fled the planet, their operation aborted because of her actions. She alone was instrumental in their destruction, and her record will so note that."

  Trent winced inwardly at those words, but again he concealed his reaction. The lies he speaks perpetuate other lies. "Star Colonel, her command is open now, and I have already successfully tested to the rank of Star Captain. May I assume that you will place me in command of Beta Trinary, quiaff?"

  It was obvious by the startled look on Paul Moon's face that he had not expected Trent to make such a request. "You are a Star Captain, but your command is battered and damaged. Russou's Star has only two survivors, and your own Star only three."

  As he spoke, it was obvious that Moon was verbally stalling for time.

  "Until reinforcements and replacement OmniMechs arrive, I am going to take Beta Trinary off-line for refit," Moon went on. "When it becomes operational, we will discuss your place in it. Understood, quiaff?"

  "Aff," Trent replied. He understood all too well what Star Colonel Paul Moon was saying.

  * * *

  Trent entered the old barracks where Judith had quartered when she had first come to the Smoke Jaguars. He could not help but remember the last time he had been here a year and a half earlier. The air smelled of mildew or mold as he closed the door behind him.

  Judith emerged from behind a wall of boxes and came over. They had settled on the barracks as their meeting site prior to Trent's debriefing, knowing it was the one place on the command post that offered them at least the hope of privacy. It was not likely this place had ever been monitored.

  "I assume all went as you planned, Star Captain," she said.

  "Affirmative," Trent replied, looking around the room as if to verify that they were alone, then back at her. "Your editing of my battle ROM was perfect. As far as anyone knows, Jez died at the hands of the mercenaries raiding Hyner."

  For Trent, there had been little choice but to kill Jez there in the swamps, but no one must ever learn that he had slain another warrior outside of a formal Trial. Working to his advantage was the fact that the possibility would never even enter the mind of a Clansman. No one suspected that he had any part in the death of a fellow warrior in combat.

  "Have you thought more about what we discussed a few weeks ago?" she asked. "Is that why you asked to meet me here?"

  Trent stared at her for a moment before answering. "My people have strayed from the true path of the Clans. I desire to lead in battle, but this too will be denied me. Before I killed her, Jez told me that the corruption I have witnessed reaches even to the seat of the Khan of the Clan himself. I can no longer remain among the Smoke Jaguars. I have not changed, but the Clan has. I do not understand what they have become."

  "And so?" she asked.

  Trent sighed heavily, but held himself tall and proud. "I wish to leave the Smoke Jaguars. If you can use your contacts to arrange it, I wish to do so as soon as possible. In exchange for what I know of my Clan, I ask only for my own command—to lead other warriors in glorious battle."

  Judith listened without interrupting, then answered carefully and slowly. "It will not be so easy, Star Captain. It is true that you will bring with you a great deal of intelligence on the Smoke Jaguars. But my contacts outside the Occupation Zone seek something more. With just that one small bit of information, I can guarantee your safe exit from the Clan as well as the command you seek."

  "This information," Trent said cautiously. "What is it?"

  "The Exodus Road," she said firmly. "Even as we speak, the Explorer Corps is seeking the location of the Clan home-worlds, but so far to no avail. I am sure that if you could supply the data, you could also name your price for an Inner Sphere command."

  Trent felt the blood rush to his face. "What you ask is nearly impossible. The location of the homeworlds is one of our greatest secrets."

  "It is your ticket out of here," she countered. "The only way you can ever hope to live as a warrior again."

  Trent shook his head in dismay. "The route to the home-worlds does not exist in one single location. JumpShips moving along the Exodus Road only carry a portion of the map. Routes are constantly changing, and ships dump one segment of the navigation map as part of the process of obtaining the next segment. Even our HPG traffic is segmented and bundled to prevent anyone being able to use the communications network to trace a route to the homeworlds."

  "Aye," Judith said. "But there must be a way, quiaff?"

  Trent stood shaking his head for a moment as his mind raced. "The homeworlds are something like a year's travel from the Inner Sphere. The only way I can think of to get the data would be to somehow travel to there—walk the Exodus Road. And then, somehow, we would have to find a way back."

  Judith nodded. "Aye, and I think I have an idea. There are some devices I could rig on such a trip, ways to measure our jump distances. Coupled with spectrum readings of various stars along the route, we should be able to map out the road."

  Trent's mutilated face had a look of semi-hopelessness. "It is a year there and a year back at best, Judith. Know this, Clan warriors of my age and status do not return from the homeworlds unless they are Khans or are bloodnamed. It does not happen. Though I hope to compete for the Howell bloodname left open by Jez's death, I doubt that anyone will sponsor me. The Star Colonel has accomplished a most effective character assassination against me. Without a bloodname, warriors like me who are getting too old for combat are often sent back home, but they do not return."

  Judith seemed to light up at his words, despite what he had just said. "You are a brilliant warrior. This is merely another tactical battle. Surely there are ways to get you assigned to return to the homeworlds, especially since Star Colonel Moon would like very much to see you gone."

  Trent crossed his arms and looked down in thought. His brow wrinkled unevenly between his natural and synthetic skin as he thought long and hard on the problem. As Judith said, he could view it tactically, as a battle to be won. Looking at it from different angles, he suddenly realized there was a solution, but he would pay for it dearly with his pride.

  "You are right, Judith. I can think of a way to get us to the homeworlds. Getting back will be difficult, but there must be a way around that too."

  "Excellent, but how?"

  "The plan will require us to turn the trickery and deception of others to our own advantage. In essence, we must make Star Colonel Moon insist on sending us there . . .".

  18

  Smoke Jaguar Planetary Command Post

  Warrenton, Hyner

  Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone

  9 April 3055

  Judith used the specially designed anti-static gloves to move the segment of myomer fiber into the shin of Trent's Timber Wolf. The myomer acted as a superpowerful muscle in the leg, and the segments she was attaching replaced the burned filaments left after her bondmaster's last battle. She struggled to get the bundle in place, then slowly pulled her head out of the OmniMech's giant leg and turned to see Master Tech Phillip standing some steps away, staring at her.

  Phillip had hated her from the day she first arrived among the Jaguars, and he still did. She knew that. With the passing of time, he had come to restrain his physical abuse, but he still liked to humiliate her verbally and constantly demeaned the quality of her work. She hated him in return, but took pleasure in feigning to be terrorized by him. She had always known some day she could use that to her advantage, that it would make him unlikely to suspect that she was anything but docile and tame under his whip. And now the day had come.

 
; "Master Technician," she said meekly, pulling off the thin elbow-length gloves and tucking them into her work belt. "May I be of service?"

  He looked at her with his hard, cruel eyes. "I am here to inform you that the Star Colonel has asked that I ration your unit's replacement parts." Judith took note of his choice of words, "asked" rather than "ordered," implying that he was at the same level as Star Colonel Moon. "Rebuilding this Trinary is the Cluster's lowest priority at this time."

  In her mind, Judith had rehearsed her lines over and over, per the plan Trent had come up with. "Star Captain Trent will not be pleased at this news. He asked that I prep his 'Mech so that it will be ready when the Trial of Bloodright for Star Captain Jez Howell's bloodname is formally announced."

  The chubby Master Tech raised an eyebrow. "Your bondmaster believes he will win her bloodname then, quiaff?"

  "Aff," Judith replied almost proudly. "And since he already has the rank, he is sure that he will also win command of the Trinary."

  "Indeed," Phillip said. "Even you must have heard stories of how much the Star Colonel despises Trent, quiaff? Many officers say he is weak, unworthy of the Clan."

  "Neg, sir. I have seen him in battle. Perhaps they have not." She paused as if thinking proudly of Trent's exploits, then let her face cloud over slightly. "He is so brave that he has only one fear."

  Curiosity piqued, Phillip moved closer. "And what might that be?"

  Judith looked around. "He has told me this in confidence," she said, almost whispering. "Can I trust you not to speak of it?"

  "I have made you the tech you are today. We are of the same caste. Trust me, Judith, my word is my bond."

  Judith paused as if carefully thinking it over, then spoke. "He told me that the giftake of a bloodnamed warrior must return to the homeworld of Huntress, where it will become part of the gene pool. He fears that the Star Colonel will send him as the honor guard when Jez's gene sample is sent home. At his age, my master knows that he would never return from the homeworlds but instead be transferred to some solahma unit there. But the chances of that happening are remote, are they not, Master Phillip?"

  Phillip seemed barely able to suppress his smile of cunning. "Aye," he whispered back. "The Star Colonel has surely not thought of this or he would already have enacted such an order."

  Judith gave a long sigh, feigning relief. "That is good to know. Should my Star Captain be sent to Huntress, I would almost assuredly be sent with him. And though I am curious to see the Smoke Jaguar homeworlds, I do not know what would become of me if he were reassigned."

  "Of course," Phillip said, his voice returning to normal. She could tell by the look on his face that the seed she had planted was already taking root. "Do not worry, Judith. Your secret is safe with me," he said.

  * * *

  Trent filled his tray in the officer's mess and then sat down with it at the end of one of the long tables in the small, spotlessly clean room. He took a seat off by himself, posture stiff, almost cadet-like in its precision. He ate slowly, not looking at any of the other officers present. No one spoke to him or called him over to join them, and for once Trent did not feel anger at being treated as an outcast in the midst of his own Clan. He simply continued to chew his rations, knowing that today he would turn the contempt of his fellows to his own purposes.

  Star Captain Oleg Nevversan surprised Trent when he came over. He did not carry a tray or drink, but took the seat next to Trent. Oleg had been injured in the fighting at the swamp when the mercenaries had swarmed his 'Mech. He had sustained a concussion, or at least so Trent had heard. Today, he obviously had something on his mind, and from the look on his face it was not something pleasant. Trent continued to eat, ignoring him.

  "Star Captain Trent," Nevversan said slowly. "Jez always said you were weak, and now she is proved correct. She is dead and you live, unscathed."

  Trent turned and faced the other man, their faces only centimeters apart. "Do you question my ability as a warrior?"

  Nevversan smiled boldly, not to be intimidated. "All I know is that Jez Howell, an honored warrior and officer, told us you knew where the enemy would land. She encouraged us to lower our bids for the combat. She is now dead, as is one of my own warriors. Yet you live."

  "What are you trying to say, Oleg Nevversan?" Trent said evenly, taking another slow and methodical bite of his rations.

  "Some say that you would do anything for a command. Tell me, Trent, what was it like watching a true warrior like Jez die?"

  Trent looked into Oleg's eyes, and gave him a defiant grin. "Her death was as she deserved. And in the end, her command is mine."

  "There will be many who oppose you, a mangled older warrior, assuming command," Nevversan said.

  "Perhaps. But there is nothing to stop me now. I will be eligible to compete for the Howell bloodname as well as for her command." Trent smiled, making it as smug and satisfied as his ruined face would allow. "And now all that is left is for Jez's giftake to be sent back to Huntress as soon as possible."

  Nevversan was obviously thrown off guard, not hiding his curiosity. "Why is that so important?"

  Trent chuckled for the first time since Jez had perished by his hand. "That is not your affair, Star Captain," he said, pushing his chair back and getting up. He did not bother to clear away his tray, and could feel Nevversan still staring at him as he crossed the mess hall and left the room.

  * * *

  Star Colonel Paul Moon looked across his desk at Phillip, his personal technician and Master Tech of the Cluster. Through the window behind him, the evening stars were beginning to show through the clouds as night settled over Warrenton. The day promised to end calmly and peacefully.

  "The information you have brought me seems consistent with information one of my officers has also provided," Paul Moon said.

  The portly Phillip bowed his head in acknowledgment. "I exist to serve the Smoke Jaguars and the warrior caste, Star Colonel."

  "And you do so well," Moon replied. "I will handle matters from this point forward, Phillip. You will speak of these things to no one."

  "Aye, Star Colonel," Phillip said as he backed his way to the office door.

  As the door closed behind the tech, Paul Moon smiled broadly as he sat back in his chair and pondered his good luck. He finally had a way to deal with that stravag Trent once and for all. Neither he nor his trashborn bondsman would any longer taint his command. They would be sent back to the home of the Smoke Jaguars, not as heroes, but destined for the dung heap.

  "Sleep well tonight, Trent," Moon said softly. "For tomorrow your worst fear will come to haunt you."

  Star Colonel Paul Moon swiveled his chair around toward the window, and sat back in contentment to contemplate the stars of Hyner.

  19

  Smoke Jaguar Planetary Command Post

  Warrenton, Hyner

  Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone

  11 April 3055

  Stone-faced, Trent stared intently at Star Colonel Paul Moon. "Would you repeat that order, Star Colonel?"

  With just the slightest sneer, Moon repeated his words. "I am designating you as honor guard for the giftake of Jez Howell." He moved the small silver metal cylinder that contained her gene sample across the table. It was sealed and locked with several built-in mechanisms and bore the markings of the scientist caste on the side. Impressed into the thick lid of the device was a circuit chip, the memory core of Jez's codex bracelet. Once Jez's giftake reached Huntress, it would become part of the sacred gene pool of other honored warriors from which the scientist caste was constantly breeding new and better generations of Smoke Jaguar warriors.

  "You will accompany her giftake back to our homeworlds for honorable internment," Paul Moon went on. "A ship waits in the system as we speak."

  Trent tightened the muscles on his face, which had the effect of twisting it slightly because of his scarring. "Star Colonel, what of the open Howell bloodname?"

  "The Trial of Bloodright is slated for three
weeks from now. You will already be out of the system by then—not that anyone in your House would be willing to sponsor you."

  "And the chance to win Jez's command, that will be lost as well?" Trent spoke in the low, almost menacing tone sometimes used by Jaguar warriors.

  "You know that the trip back to the homeworlds is a long one. I cannot keep her position open. For the time being, however, Beta Trinary is off-line until I receive the appropriate replacement parts and-personnel. I may hold the appropriate Trial of Position to fill the slot should I opt to reactivate the unit."

  "After I am gone, quiaff?"

  "Affirmative," Moon said curtly.

  "I must protest this action," Trent replied.

  "Noted."

  "Neg, that is not enough. I challenge you to a Trial of Grievance, Star Colonel," Trent spoke the words as if they were a formal slap.

  Paul Moon looked amused as he stood and faced Trent. "I refuse your request for a Trial, Star Captain."

  "You fear that I will defeat you?" Trent prodded.

  "Negative, though I applaud you for a good try at provoking my anger. No, I refuse it because that is my right. Furthermore, your refusal to serve as Jez's honor guard is an insult to your fellow warriors. None, to my knowledge, has ever refused posting to such duty. As genetically engineered warriors, we have obligations beyond the bounds of combat and position. We must all be concerned with maintaining the bloodlines for future generations."

  "Neg, Star Colonel," Trent said. "This is not about honor or duty. This is about your hatred of me. This posting is a way to remove me from your presence. You know that my age is thirty-three years. By the time I reach the homeworlds I will be thirty-four, an age when a warrior is considered past his prime. You know they will never send me back.

  "In the meantime you strip me of my last chance to compete for a bloodname or to lead fellow trueborns in battle. Neg, Star Colonel Moon, I demand this Trial of Grievance because you are betraying the ways of our people. You are playing politics like a merchant rather than behaving like a warrior."