Exodus road

by Blaine Lee Pardoe

  Judith climbed into the cockpit hatch opening and slid into the tight space behind the command couch. The cockpits of BattleMechs, unless modified, were designed to hold one Mech Warrior. Two could ride in one if need be, but the confines were seriously cramped. She pulled the hatch shut behind her.

  "I received your message—that we needed to speak."

  "Aff," Trent said, setting his neurohelmet on the communications console to his right. "Our unit is being dispatched on a mission to Maldonado in the Draconis Combine."

  Judith smiled. "Excellent. I knew this would come."

  "Aye, but you will somehow have to get word out to Com-Star. We leave in three days, and a JumpShip is fully charged and waiting for us. We should be arriving in the Maldonado system on May seventh. We touch down on planet seventeen days later."

  "That is not much time," Judith said.

  "I do not control the time table, so the arrival time is out of my hands. But who knows when such an opportunity might present itself again? We must strike while the iron is hot."

  "Agreed," Judith said. "I only hope someone monitoring the message traffic in ComStar will recognize the codes I'm using. They are old . . . very old."

  Trent reached over and put his hand on her shoulder. "We have come a long way for this, Judith. Perhaps the end is finally in sight. If so, we are close to righting a great many wrongs."

  * * *

  Star Captain Oleg Nevversan leaned across the holographic projection table in the heart of the command center and studied the terrain where they would be landing. It was a long and twisting canyon, nearly a kilometer deep, but with rolling grassy hills in the lowlands on either side of the river that cut through the middle. The hills ran a short distance along either bank before cutting sharply up the sheer rock sides of the canyon. The rock faces were so steep that it was impossible for anyone to enter the canyon except at established roadways. The base was well positioned for defense. Defense—something the Jaguars scorn.

  "With my Trinary and Supernova Striker dropping on the west side of the Shenandoah River, and Trent's Trinary on the other side, we will be in poor position to provide him support when we do engage the enemy."

  "Affirmative," Star Colonel Paul Moon said, pointing to the northern rockface that jutted out in an area where the reports placed a military complex. "Trent's Trinary will engage them first, drawing them out. However, the depth of the river will prevent you from crossing when he needs you. You will have to ford the river three kilometers north of the base. By the time you get there, it will be too late for Trent and his command."

  Oleg looked at the wide river, which glowed green on the projection. "Trent is no fool, Star Colonel. If nothing else, he has proven himself to be a very good tactician. When he sees his map of the region, he will spot the problem almost instantly."

  Moon nodded and pressed several of the built-in control studs on the edge of the table. The holographic image of the river shrank in width to only a scant dozen meters, more than enough to permit a BattleMech crossing. "Unfortunately, a mistake has occurred. Trent's copy of the tactical plans for this operation were constructed from a model of the river in summer. We are arriving at the start of Maldonado's spring season. During the summer months, the river is a narrow ribbon that can be easily traversed. When you and he arrive there, the spring thaw will have turned that creek into a raging, turbulent river that no known BattleMech could cross."

  "The odds of him surviving are thin at best," Newersan said.

  "Aff," Moon said, feigning an expression of concern. "And if he somehow manages to last until your arrival, you should use your discretion to make sure he does not leave Maldonado alive. Do you understand, Star Captain?"

  "Affirmative," Newersan said, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he realized just how far Star Colonel Moon would go. "From what you say, Star Colonel, I assume you will not participate in this mission, quiaff?"

  "Correct. In the official orders, you will be placed in charge of the overall operation."

  Oleg Newersan understood the implications. Plausible deniability. Whatever he did on Maldonado, whether he followed Moon's command or ignored it, the blame would rest on his head—never on the Star Colonel's. It was an unsettling feeling.

  "Understood, Star Colonel."

  "Very well," Moon said, shutting off the holographic display. "This meeting never happened."

  33

  Smoke Jaguar Planetary Command Post

  Warrenton, Hyner

  Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone

  4 May 3058

  When Star Colonel Moon was awakened at 0400 hours by the comm officer, his first reaction was anger. When he learned that it was to attend an HPG message from the Galaxy Commander—his senior officer—he moved with vigor and purpose. He dressed quickly and hurried down to the large HPG receiving room, where he now stood with the comm officer on the other side of the soundproof glass giving him the signal that the message was coming in.

  The holographic projection system was built into the floor near the center of the room. As it flickered to life, it gave form to the image of the stout Galaxy Commander Hang Mehta. Paul Moon knew that this was important. Direct holographic projecting between worlds was expensive, and from what he gathered, something of a technical nightmare to coordinate and maintain. It was usually reserved for only the most important of transmissions. Moon snapped to attention quickly as he stood face to face with his commanding officer.

  "I assume that you are alone and that this room is secured, quiaff" Mehta said, returning the salute. Paul Moon activated a small switch that closed off a wall section so that even the technicians could not see what was going on.

  "It is now, Galaxy Commander."

  She rubbed her brow in thought, then looked back at Moon. "A potential emergency has arisen involving one of your officers. Star Captain Trent of your Beta Trinary. He is to be apprehended immediately and placed in sequestered security facilities—no contact with anyone."

  Moon felt the blood flow out of his face in an instant. "Star Captain Trent and his Trinary are currently en route to their JumpShip for the strike on Maldonado, Galaxy Commander."

  "Contact the DropShip and abort the mission," Mehta said.

  Paul Moon hesitated for a millisecond with his reply. "I am unable to comply, Galaxy Commander. Our mission protocols state specifically that DropShips and JumpShips on such a raid are to disregard any and all transmissions once en route." Hang Mehta had apparently forgotten the protocol, even though it was she who had who originally set it up. The Combine's network of spies and so on were known to broadcast messages transmitting conflicting orders or other dishonorable trickery to outbound DropShips. The mission protocol was in place to ensure that no one tampered with the orders for a Jaguar raid. Now it was suddenly turned to their disadvantage.

  "Freebirth!" she cursed.

  "If I may inquire, Galaxy Commander," Moon began cautiously, "why is the apprehension of Star Captain Trent called for?"

  Mehta looked at him sourly. "Zeta Galaxy Commander Benjamin Howell was found to be conducting a smuggling operation from Huntress. During narco-interrogation he revealed that Star Captain Trent is one of his operatives."

  Moon's mind raced. Trent—betraying our caste? He was tempted to tell the Galaxy Commander that he had set Trent up, that the man's chances of returning from Maldonado alive were not even minimal. But he had already seen her rage once before and did not want to incur it again. Worse yet, Trent had a knack for surviving. "Smuggling is an act worthy only of merchants and bandits. It is far below the code of a warrior."

  "Do not be such a fool," Galaxy Commander Mehta said angrily. "This is not about a mere violation of caste, you surat. Do you not see the threat, quineg?" Trent has been to Huntress and back again. He has traveled the Exodus Road. Our operatives in The Watch indicate that such a man, one who would turn against his own caste, might turn against the Clan itself. Trent is a potential traitor. And if he is one, he may have our greatest se
cret with him—the location of the Clan homeworlds."

  "Traitor?" The concept of a Clan warrior, even Trent, betraying his people was unfathomable. Perhaps these intelligence-gathering fools in The Watch were having nightmares, seeing ghosts where there was nothing. A warrior would never turn against one of his own....

  "Do not be blinded to the danger, Star Colonel Moon. I took the liberty of having my Watch operatives on Hyner check his and his freebirth wench's access to your garrison computer system."

  "You checked my network without informing me?"

  "Aff, you fool, because there is more at stake than just your petty ego and territoriality. Trent and this Judith spent a total of four hours downloading the complete strategic and tactical overlays and deployments of our Clan in the Occupation Zone. This information was obtained piecemeal, and because the two of them accessed it using the maintenance procurement system as well as Trent's access as a Trinary commander, no security alarms were sounded. She tracked our logistics flow and pinned down certain units, while he checked our TO&E on other planets. The data the two of them have compiled and carry with them consists of every bit of knowledge about our troop deployments within the Inner Sphere."

  Moon was stunned at the news. "He has no reason to do this unless he plans to turn against us."

  Hang Mehta's tone grew darker and more forbidding. "I know that you tried to shuffle off Star Captain Trent as a solahma warrior. You may very well have forged the instrument of our own destruction."

  "I do not understand," Moon said. "You approved those orders. Khan Osis himself has stated that the warriors who fought on Tukayyid were inferior and were what had cost us our victory."

  "Enough of this prattle," Mehta barked. "Rest assured. Star Colonel, that you and you alone will suffer the blame if Trent is a traitor. In the meantime, you have a great deal of preparation."

  "I do not understand."

  "You have DropShips and JumpShips at your disposal, quiaff? You are a Cluster Commander, are you not? Mount as large a force as possible immediately. You will proceed on to Maldonado. You are to take whatever actions necessary to make sure that Star Captain Trent is apprehended. If you cannot apprehend him, then you will destroy him. Either way, if he is indeed a traitor, he will not pass any information on the Smoke Jaguar to our enemies."

  Moon felt his whole body tense as she gave the orders. It was not going to be easy. The Maldonado raiding force would have almost reached the jump point and the waiting JumpShip by now. They would jump out of the Hyner system immediately upon arriving there. He could muster a Star or two and one of the Broadsword DropShips. If he took one of the lithium-battery JumpShips and made an in-system jump to a pirate point, he would be able to link up with the other JumpShip in perhaps four or five days. Then it was a single jump to the Maldonado system.

  "I will not fail you, Galaxy Commander," he said with a quick salute, which she did not return. A part of him was suddenly happy. If his original plan for Trent failed, he would be on Maldonado to kill him personally. Either way, Paul Moon would make sure that Trent did not live.

  "No, Paul Moon, you will not," she replied in an icy tone as the holographic image shut off and normal lighting came back on. Moon knew that the price of failure would be the end of everything he had worked so hard to build.

  * * *

  The dim lighting of the cramped DropShip mess doubling for a briefing room had the kind of musky smell one normally associated with pilot ready rooms or locker rooms. Trent looked at the display showing the Shenandoah River Valley, where the Twelfth Dieron Regulars were based on Maldonado. With his skill at tactical analysis, Trent saw several problems with the plan, the least of which was the deliberate splitting of their forces.

  The Regulars were sheltered in a fortress-like complex built into the east wall of the river valley—the side where Trent and his Trinary would land. In that fortress, they would be hard to root out. From Trent's understanding of the plan, his unit was going to be the bait, a force small enough to lure out the Regulars. Then the Jaguar force on the other side of the river would suddenly cross over, using the twisting canyon as a sensor screen, and hit the Regulars as well.

  "We can accomplish the same goal by all landing on the same side of the river," Trent said to Star Captain Oleg Nevversan. "If you hold your force back far enough, I can still be effective in luring them out."

  Oleg Nevversan shook his head. "Negative, Star Captain. This plan has no room for modification. It comes from Star Colonel Moon himself."

  The statement did not reassure Trent in the least. "Warriors always have the right to alter deployments as long as they accomplish the actual mission objectives."

  "Not in this case," Nevversan said firmly. "We deploy per orders, Star Captain." His tone was almost smug. Trent glanced at Star Commander Russou and Alexandra, who had tested to take his former command of Beta Striker Star. Russou cocked his right eyebrow, indicating that the plan seemed questionable. Alexandra simply looked back at the map.

  Nevversan shut off the display unit. "We will be docking and jumping in three days. Have your units ready for action upon our arrival."

  With those words the briefing came to a quick end. Trent said little other than giving orders to Alexandra and Russou to review the battle plans. Then he drifted out into the corridor and down to his small stateroom. Once inside he closed the door and saw Judith hovering near the fold-down cot.

  "Problems?" she asked, watching his face.

  "Perhaps. We have had little time to talk since our departure. I am curious about how you and I will be extracted once we arrive on Maldonado."

  Judith gave a slight shrug. "Unknown. I have rigged your OmniMech's IFF transponder. On normal bands, the signal will simply identify your Cauldron-Born as either friend or a foe—the way the IFF is supposed to do. However, if scans are run at the high end of the frequency bands, they identify you as a blue target on any T&T system that is monitoring those bands."

  "We have no way of knowing if your ComStar accomplices ever received your message?" She nodded. "That is correct."

  "What of you, Judith? You cannot be with me in my 'Mech when we land on Maldonado. How will you get away?" The concern in his voice was genuine, and more than a bondsmaster might normally express. But to Trent, Judith was more than a normal bondsman.

  She smiled slightly. "I did not come this far to be left behind. Do not concern yourself, Trent. I will get away from the other techs. If ComStar is there and you are extracted, I will be at your side—of that you can be sure."

  "But if the ComStar forces do not show. What then?"

  "Then I will stand beside you to the end. We started this together, and if necessary, we will die together."

  * * *

  The red-haired Precentor IV Karl Karter stroked his beard as he looked one more time at the hardcopy printout of the transmission. The planet Pesht's largest moon shone outside the window, its yellow-white light shimmering down on this key Combine world. Here, in the safety of the ComStar base in the foothills of the Kincha Mountains, the moon seemed far away.

  His staff filed into the room, their gray Com Guard uniforms showing the unit patch for the 308th Division, Winged Divinity. Most of his forces were on Tukayyid, but what he had on this flank of the Clan Occupation Zone was a quick-response unit, ready to deploy at any moment to blunt any major Clan intrusion.

  The officers entered the room, and he waited until the door was closed before speaking. These were good men and women. They had almost all seen action against the Ghost Bears on Tukayyid, been tempered in the fires of the greatest battle in the history of mankind. The First Army of the Com Guards were almost all veterans of the Ghost Bear assaults—hence their nickname "The Bear Maulers." Since the glorious and costly victory on Tukayyid they had not seen much action. The message he had just received would change all that.

  "All right, people, listen up and listen good," he began as the last officer took a seat. "We've been tossed this one from the boys upstai
rs, and we have no choice but to pull it off." He held a printout in front of him.

  "By direct order of the Precentor Martial and of Precentor Katrina Troth of the First Army High Command, we are ordered to take any and all available forces to the planet Maldonado on or before May twenty-fourth."

  "What is the mission, sir?" piped up Demi-Precentor Frakes.

  "A defection and extraction. Apparently one of our ROM operatives has convinced a Smoke Jaguar warrior to defect. Our job is to get them out of there, no matter what."

  "The Smoke Jaguars are not on Maldonado," pointed out Demi-Precentor Loxley.

  Precentor Karter smiled. "They will be on the twenty-fourth of May. Our ROM operative indicated that they intend to execute a raid at that time. And per direct orders from the Precentor Martial, we are to use 'any and all force and means necessary to ensure that the defector be extracted alive.' "

  Karter scanned the printout one more time, searching for one line in particular. "In fact, my good officers, 'the 308th Division forces are to be considered expendable in the successful execution of this mission.' "

  The air in the room went silent. "What of the local command?" Frakes asked. "I believe the Twelfth Dieron Regulars are on Maldonado now."

  "According to a copy of a command order I received, Theodore Kurita himself has sent a message to the Regulars. They are to provide full and total cooperation in this mission."

  "This warrior must be very important," another officer said.

  "That's not for us to know. We only have about a battalion of troops ready, but we must leave immediately. Our Jump-Ship is still at a pirate point only a few days out. We have to load up, get there, and get to Maldonado on the double."