"That will be all," Paul Moon barked back. "You give me too much credit, Trent. You have me orchestrating your removal from the Inner Sphere as if it were something I had planned, something I had plotted, and carefully manipulated.
I am a warrior. As such, I merely fulfill my duty. I do not have time for such plotting and scheming. You were sibkin of Jez, reared in the same sibko and fought by her side in many battles, including Tukayyid. You were with her when she died. My decision does not reflect my dislike for you. It reflects a wish to honor you as the best individual for this task."
"You deny that you are sending me back because you know the chances of my return are nearly impossible?" The unspoken accusation lingered in the air, liar.
Moon shook his head. "Think what you will, Trent. I have said all I am going to." He took up a sheet of hard copy from his desk and scanned it for a moment, then he slid it across the desk toward Trent.
"A number of warriors will be accompanying you on this trip. Most have been declared solahma, though one is also dezgra. They are assigned to report to our garrisons on Huntress. You will be the ranking officer, so these troops will report to you for the duration of the mission." He gestured for Trent to take the sheet with his new orders. "You will also find a full manifest of the cargo of your DropShip as well."
"Disgraced and old warriors and a ship already loaded for my departure," Trent said, picking up the sheet and glancing at it scornfully.
"Coincidence, I assure you," Star Colonel Moon replied. "Ever since Tukayyid, many of my fellow officers have been seeking to purge the Jaguars of the baggage that cost us victory there. I am confident that you will find much in common with the members of your new command."
Trent narrowed bis good eye in a cool glare. "If I share so much in common with them," Trent said slowly, "then I am sure they must be among the best warriors ever to uphold the glory of Clan Smoke Jaguar."
Paul Moon chuckled slightly. "Perhaps you will still get your chance to fight and die in battle, Star Captain. The ships of the Explorer Corps have become most aggressive in their efforts to discover the Exodus Road. Who knows? Maybe you will encounter one of them."
"Either way you win," Trent said. "The chances of an encounter on the Exodus Road are slim. If I die, you are content because my lack of a bloodname means that my genes will never become part of the sacred gene pool. If I live, you will make sure I never return to the Inner Sphere."
"Again, Trent, you give me too much credit. The plotting you imagine is all in your mind."
Trent crossed his arms in defiance as he stared at his senior officer. "You have doomed me."
"Neg, Trent," Star Colonel Moon replied. "You have doomed yourself."
* * *
Trent stood in the doorway of the barracks as Judith finished her packing. His personal kit bag was flung over his left shoulder, and in it were all his worldly possessions. An entire lifetime as a warrior crammed into one small bag.
Judith looked up as she stuffed the last article into her own bag. "I notice that we are taking several BattleMechs back."
"Isorla, captured goods. They represent new technology that the Inner Sphere is attempting to employ against us, and our scientist caste on Huntress no doubt wants to examine them."
Judith returned to fastening up her bag as she spoke. "So far, so good for our plan. You outfoxed Paul Moon this time. Getting him to name you as honor guard for Jez's gene sample gives us just the opportunity we needed to try to map the route to the homeworlds."
Trent shook his head slightly. "I never imagined that my life as a warrior would lead me down the path of deception. If it helps us get what we need, I suppose I may find a way to live with it one day. In the meantime, have you come up with anything?"
Judith held up a small black pad-like device. It was the size of a wallet and had only one visible control surface. "This is a basic neutrino scanner. We use these to manually monitor the readings of 'Mech reactors to make sure they are not releasing too many neutrinos."
"But how will that help us map the Exodus Road?"
"When a JumpShip arrives in a new star system, its core emits EMP, an electromagnetic pulse."
"That much I know," Trent said, still puzzled. "If another ship happens to be at the same jump point, it can read the arriving ship's EMP and determine its configuration."
Judith nodded. "Aff, but what most people do not know is that the drive also emits a neutrino pulse. The neutrinos actually emerge near the outer hull of the vessel and travel less than a hundred meters before dissipating. At that point they are indistinguishable from the low-level neutrinos constantly emitted by the ship's fusion drive."
"That means you could not use it as a means of measuring another ship's course. The pulse dissipates almost instantly, and besides you have to be practically on top of the ship to measure the neutrinos emitted by the jump. Obviously, no JumpShip ever gets that close to another one."
"Correct," Judith said. "From a military standpoint the neutrino pulse has no real value. You can detect the presence of the ship, but not how far it has traveled. But for our purposes it does offer something. With this device mounted either to the JumpShip's hull or in an airlock near the outer hull, the scanner will measure and record the level of neutrinos released by the pulse. There is a direct correlation between the neutrino level and the distance of the hyper-space jump. Taking these readings, we can determine exactly how far the JumpShip has traveled between stars."
"Which could also help us figure out almost exactly where we have jumped to." Jumps had to be made from jump points. Usually these were at either the zenith or nadir points of the star's gravity well. There were also pirate points, locations where gravity was a null factor in a star system, but these were riskier to use. Despite the fact that there were thousands of stars on the path between the Inner Sphere and the Clan homeworlds, knowing the exact distance of a jump narrowed down the number of possible star systems dramatically.
"Affirmative, sir. And when coupled with simple spectral analysis that I can run once we arrive in a system, we can not only pinpoint the exact stars, but the route the Clan uses to travel between them."
Trent looked at the device in his hands and then handed it back to her. "Getting it into an airlock on the JumpShip will be difficult. Passengers are usually confined to DropShips during such voyages." Where JumpShips traveled between stars, the DropShips attached to them were the vessels that carried personnel and cargo. DropShips could travel to and from a planet in a star system, but the only way they would travel between stars was by hitching a ride on the hull of a JumpShip.
"As a warrior, you might be able to get around more, despite regulations. You will probably have to be the one who finds a way to get the scanner in place."
"I am not so sure," Trent said. "As a technician, you might be able to come up with a better pretext for getting aboard the JumpShip."
"Aff, but my specialty is BattleMech tech. Only a Master Technician would have more general technical skills. My presence during a jump would be suspicious. I still think you would have more opportunities to move about freely."
Trent looked at her. "Can it be so easy?"
"It is a weakness of the Clan. The Jaguars are concerned only with protecting themselves from external threats. No one expects a warrior to threaten security from within. The only security measure vaguely related to that is the test of every passenger's genetic identity prior to lift-off to make sure no spies have infiltrated the crew."
Trent nodded, a sadness suddenly overwhelming him. "As you say, a weakness of the Clan . . ."
"No Smoke Jaguar would ever consider the possibility that one of its own might reveal information."
"Our code of honor prevents it." Trent shook off his sadness. He had set his course, and now was not the time to change his mind.
Judith smiled slightly. "The very same code our own superior officers have been violating all this time."
Trent nodded. "You need not worry, Judith. My pat
h is laid before me as surely as the Exodus Road leads back to the homeworlds. It is too late for me to turn back now."
20
Smoke Jaguar DropShip Dhava
Docked to JumpShip Admiral Andrews
Nadir Jump Point, Hyner
Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone
21 April 3055
Trent floated into the airlock of the docking ring, using the handholds on the bulkhead to balance himself against the weightlessness of zero G. The DropShip Dhava had just locked onto one of the docking rings along the JumpShip's kilometer-long spine, and this was the one airlock passage between the two vessels. He looked out at what he could see of the docking rings. Its relatively simple technology was all that held the two ships together, all that kept him and the others in the DropShip from being blown out into the vastness of space and death. He and Judith had decided that either the airlock or the hull itself were the optimal places for measuring a JumpShip's neutrino surge. Trent glanced about for an inconspicuous place to mount the device—when the time came.
A small reinforced viewing port allowed Trent to see down the length of the ship. Two other DropShips, Union Class vessels like the Dhava, were also locked along the long spine of the Odyssey Class JumpShip. One docking ring was empty, but Trent had no doubt another ship would occupy it sooner or later. Returning to the homeworlds was no small undertaking, and the Clan would never abide the waste of sending a JumpShip all the way back to Huntress not fully loaded.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Judith hovering next to him above the deck. "We are going to be jumping soon, Star Captain."
"Aye, I just heard the ten-minute warning," he said. "I trust you found your quarters, quiaff?"'
"Aff." She raised her eyebrows and gave a slightly mocking smile. "And they are nearly as luxurious as my quarters back in Warrenton," she said.
Suddenly another figure entered the airlock alongside them. It was an Elemental, a giant of a man with sandy blonde hair tied into a collar-length pony tail that hung down the back of his tree-trunk like neck. In the small space of the airlock, the man's figure seemed even more enormous than normal, almost as if he were intentionally pushing himself into Trent's personal space.
"I assume you are Star Captain Trent, quiaff?"' the Elemental said.
"Aff," Trent replied. Judith stood at his side looking up at the impressive warrior. "I am Trent of the Howell bloodline."
"I am Star Commander Allen of the Moon bloodline," the other man said coolly. "I was informed by our JumpShip captain that you were finally aboard. As security officer I reviewed your files while you were making the trip from the surface of Hyner. You served in the Stormriders, quiaff?"'
Moon, bloodkin to my former CO, the man who sent me out here to rot away as a solahma. "I served under Star Colonel Paul Moon of the Stormriders. You two are bloodkin, quiaff?"' Trent decided he had better be careful what he said to this man.
"Affirmative," Allen replied. "More precisely, we were in the same sibko." He seemed somewhat guarded, probably measuring Trent's reactions as well.
"You are his comrade and friend then, quiaff?" Trent fished boldly.
Allen laughed, a deep belly roar of sheer amusement. "Negative, Star Captain Trent. I loathe Star Colonel Paul Moon." With a sudden, swift movement he pulled up his left shirt sleeve and revealed a long scar running from wrist to elbow. It was deep and had obviously torn muscle.
"A warrior does not cry over spilled gruel, but I can tell you one thing about Paul Moon, I took him on in a Trial of Position for the rank of Star Captain, and he feigned injury, then attacked me unawares. It nearly cost me this arm, and in the end, is why I serve on a JumpShip as a Marine rather than a true warrior in the field."
Trent gave a short, humorless laugh. "Then you will be displeased to know that he is well."
"Freebirth," cursed Allen as he pulled his sleeve back down. "And if you are aboard this ship, I can only assume that you have crossed him somehow."
"Aye," Trent said. "It is one thing you and I have in common."
"Indeed." Allen extended his big hand to Trent.
Trent shook the Elemental's giant hand, then gestured to Judith with his head. "This is my bondsman Judith."
Allen shook her hand as well. "What Clan is she from, Star Captain? Nova Cat or perhaps Diamond Shark?" It was an obvious joke, for both Clans were long-time rivals of the Smoke Jaguars. As security officer, Allen must have looked over Judith's file as well as his. Trent suddenly realized that none of this conversation was as casual as it seemed. The man was doing his job.
"Neither one. Her blood is Inner Sphere. She was once a MechWarrior of the Com Guards, but I bested her in honorable combat. In admiration of her prowess, I took her as isorla on Tukayyid." Trent spoke proudly, both for himself and for Judith.
Allen cocked one eyebrow as he looked at her, then back to Trent. "You fought on Tukayyid and made a Com Guard your bondsman. No small feat, quiaff?"
"Aye," Trent said, with a sense of pride he had rarely experienced since arriving on Hyner long months ago.
Star Commander Allen looked over at Judith. "You are going to receive a gift beyond description, bondsman. You are traveling into Clan space. How many of your former kinsmen can make that claim? One or two, at most? You will be following in the footsteps of the great, who first made the voyage from the Inner Sphere centuries ago. You will visit the homeworld of our Clan. This is a great honor."
"Aye, Star Commander," Judith said, bowing her head slightly.
"Keeping an Inner Sphere as a bondsman is a rarity I have not encountered before, Star Captain Trent." Trent nodded and gave his off-kilter smile. "And one that has curned me the scorn of more than a few of my fellow warriors," he said. "It made me a pariah, but perhaps that was a good in disguise. If nothing else, it kept me from playing politics, a game that seems to find such favor among weaker men." He could not help but think of Jez and Paul Moon and the way he had turned their own games of ambition and self-interest to set in motion his own plan of escape.
Again Allen laughed. "Now I know why Paul Moon disliked you. You sound like a warrior who is true to the way of our Clan." He gestured to the passageway back into the JumpShip. "As the senior security officer of the Admiral Andrews, I invite you to join me at jump station. We have much in common, Star Captain Trent. I am hoping to hear some good tales of you and Paul Moon. I also long to hear of Tukayyid—not the stories of those who wish to bury it in the past, but of one who fought there and lived to tell the tale."
Trent glanced over at Judith. She nodded imperceptibly, and no one else would have understood her slight smile of satisfaction.
* * *
Later, after the ship jumped and he and Judith had retired to their respective quarters, Trent looked over the hard copy records of the other Smoke Jaguar officers either on board one of the two docked DropShips, or due to arrive in with the final one. A dozen in all, each with orders to report to Huntress and assignment to Zeta Galaxy, referred to as The Iron Guards.
It was to be their last posting, he knew that. He was also sure that a set of orders assigning him to The Iron Guards would also arrive on Huntress. Solahma. The word was like a curse to a Clan warrior. If a warrior did not die in glorious battle or achieve a bloodname by a certain age, he or she was judged to be virtually useless. Such warriors were being sent back to Huntress, the homeworld of the Smoke Jaguars, where they would be relegated to the scrap heap of a solahma unit. Most would be assigned various noncombatant tasks, though there was still a chance—if one were fortunate—that his or her unit might serve in some suicide mission that would offer one final opportunity to die with honor. That, after all, was the only death worthy of a warrior—on a field of battle.
The unit Trent was shepherding to Huntress would be assigned to guard the homeworld, but that was a sham. What possible threat could exist with all of the fiercest Clans still focused on the invasion of the Inner Sphere? And surely no one on Huntress feared an attack by
the forces of the Inner Sphere. Trent was surely the only Smoke Jaguar who knew that an attack by the Inner Sphere had suddenly become a real possibility. He had no illusions about the uses of the Exodus Road data he and Judith intended to gather and hand over to her contacts.
Perhaps he would be doing the solahma warriors in Clan space a good turn. All they had to look forward to was slowly and ingloriously rotting to death. Should he succeed in providing the Inner Sphere with a means to attack the homeworlds, some solahma warriors on Huntress might still get their chance to fight and die with honor one day. It might be years from now, but the chance was real.
And if he failed, Trent would be facing a similar fate worse than death—assignment to a solahma unit. Paul Moon would have won. Solahma units generally were assigned second-line 'Mechs, if any. Sometimes they were sent into battle against BattleMechs with nothing more than sidearms and knives.
That was not how warriors should die.
It was not how Trent planned on dying.
Age had nothing to do with a warrior's skill or prowess. He knew that at least one of the warriors with whom he was traveling was truly dezgra. Disgraced and dishonored for attempting to conceal a violation of the bidding ritual in a Trial of Combat. The others were, like Trent, simply older warriors, some of whom had also served on Tukayyid.
He could imagine their bitterness and resentment, and how they would be clinging to the hope that fate might yet send them some means by which to prove themselves one last time. Whatever they were, whatever they thought or felt, this group of warriors was, for the moment, his command. If all went well, Trent would have another chance even if they did not. But he could not simply dismiss them. As warriors, they deserved his respect, and he would forge them into some sort of a unit.
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