Threads of Ambition

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Threads of Ambition Page 9

by Loren L. Coleman


  Seng stiffened, as if sensing the alternative. "And if they do not?"

  "Then we sacrifice the battalion for the good of the Compact," Candace said, voice hard and certain. "I will publicly condemn Major Smithson's actions and leave her to the mercy of the Confederation. The others we may be able to repatriate, but the battalion itself will be disbanded. Colonel Perrin's career will be in ruins, and we may even have to disband the other Lancer battalions before they turn sour."

  "A heavy price," Seng said, nodding wearily, "but necessary."

  Candace felt the weight of the St. Ives Compact pressing, but she'd borne that for over thirty years and so shouldered it easily. She turned toward the end of the Gallery Hall, no longer finding peace among the artifacts and desiring some form of action now.

  "I want to review the files on every border unit," she said. "Line unit, mercenary, and Home Guard. I want to know that no one will make the situation worse. Then we upgrade their state of readiness in case Zahn thinks to stage a reprisal raid.

  "The Compact will suffer from the situation, no way to prevent that," Candace said, moving along with a strength of purpose, "but damned if I will make it easy for them."

  Hazlet, Nashuar

  St. Ives Compact

  All eight of the Nashuar Home Guard Mech Warrior trainees had gathered in the on-base apartment that Danielle Singh shared with Freya Restecht. Most clustered around the trivid viewer that Danielle had bought and installed, watching news reports and hoping for some information concerning the fighting on Hustaing. Danielle and Trahn Choya, a member of the other trainee lance, sat at the dining table comparing notes. Sodas were constantly rotated from the closet stockpile to the fridge and out to waiting hands, and the room smelled of delivered pizza.

  Maurice Fitzgerald sat away from the group, back against the wall with his legs stretched out comfortably in front of him. Waste of time watching the news, and sharing tips and insights on 'Mech piloting with my competitors seems just a bit counterproductive. He closed his eyes and mentally reviewed his performance over the last few weeks, searching for flaws and trying to figure out some new way to stand out from the others.

  With all the talking and the others moving about the room, Fitzgerald wasn't aware of a presence until he heard the rasping slide as someone leaned against the wall and then slid down to sit next to him.

  "Hey, falling asleep over here?"

  He opened his eyes. Danielle sat next to him, staring over toward the trivid viewer. Her Asian ancestry was very pronounced in her features, much more so than the light touch Fitz had inherited from his mother's side. He studied her eyes-windows to the soul, he could remember his mother saying— their rare and intense blue, with lighter blue-green flecks of color imbedded within. Alive, that was how he thought of them.

  Danielle kept her dark hair cut to medium length, but in Mech Warrior fashion had shaved small spots over her temples and near the back of her head in the belief that it facilitated contact with her helmet's neuroreceptors. Fitz doubted that it really made a difference, but then belief could be a powerful thing and he couldn't argue with Danielle's performance in the simulator pods.

  Danielle glanced over, saw that his eyes were open now, and then returned her gaze to the viewer. "Not interested in the fight on Hustaing?" she asked.

  He shrugged, then played with the cuff on his button-down silk shirt, straightening it. "Rather see the box scores for the latest Solaris matches. At least with those I can be fairly certain of an honest report."

  "Yeah, the HPG blackout has given the scandalvids pretty much free rein," Danielle agreed. "Though I doubt anyone believes their claim to independent and secret sources this time. You just can't get around the HPG network. Everyone knows that."

  She shrugged, though her eyes remained focused and alert. It was then that Fitzgerald noticed that she studied the other trainees watching the trivid, not the viewer itself. "So do you really follow the Solaris games, Maurice?"

  Fitzgerald blinked his surprise at her use of his given name. He tended to avoid it, but her use of it felt good, warm even. Nodding an answer to her question, he continued to observe her as she observed the others. I'm just studying the competition. He kept trying to tell himself that. "I've got a hundred C-bills riding on Garrett."

  "That's a hefty wager." Danielle pursed her lips, considering. "You didn't bet on Cenotaph?" she asked, naming the Battle-Mech stable owned by Kai Allard-Liao and run in absentia by an old friend of the family.

  Fitzgerald shook his head lightly. "Jamie Ferrero is good, but that renegade Clanner is going to the top and Ferrero's just a stepping stone." He paused, suddenly uncomfortable, then pushed ahead. "I'd rather bet on a winner."

  Danielle turned to face him, her face carefully set against any show of emotion. "That's pretty cold," she said quietly. "Even for you."

  Caught under her unblinking stare, Fitzgerald shifted uneasily. He felt the warmth of a blush rising to his cheeks. "Maybe so," he admitted. "But it's reality." He nodded toward the other trainees, who clustered around the viewer. "Just like them. Every one of them would bet that the Lancers can pull this off. They don't care about the odds or who is in the wrong. And let's be honest, the Lancers are the ones in the wrong."

  Something flashed in Danielle's eyes and was gone almost as quickly, leaving Fitzgerald unsure as to what it might have been. Disappointment, or perhaps an undefined pain.

  "So have you rated us, Fitz?" she asked, switching back to his regular nickname. "The training cadre? There are three open slots instead of two now, with Sub-Commander Pherr's recent transfer to the Second St. Ives Lancers. Who's going to make it?"

  Fitzgerald didn't like the shift in Danielle's voice or the tightening around the eyes. He tried to make light of it, but couldn't. Not even to himself. She's the competition, but she isn't my enemy. Nevarr has been trying to teach me that, among other things, but have I really been listening? "You will," he said, with just a tinge of envy. "I think you're so far out in front that no one can touch you now."

  Danielle blinked heavily, taken aback by his blunt appraisal.

  When she spoke again, her voice was softer. "Who would be next?" she asked, drawing her knees up to her chest.

  "It gets close between Choya, Freya, and, I hope, me. Nevarr is a hard one to read, but I don't think he's given up on me yet. He's still pushing me. The others . .." He paused, not wanting to hurt Danielle again, but then not finding it within himself to stop now. "The others," he continued quietly, "I think have already been dropped from consideration. Maybe Cameron, but he hasn't racked up near as many kills."

  "Kills aren't everything," she said, mirroring his thoughts from past weeks. "Cameron is as good a back-up man as any Mech Warrior could hope to have in a lance. He's . . ." She trailed off, searching for the word. ". .. He's solid. And so are you, Maurice. That's really what I wanted to say when I came over. Nevarr has kept you pinned in supporting roles these last few weeks, and you've held up. Without you, I wouldn't have the success rate I do." She glanced down. "I came over to thank you, and to wish you luck." She uncoiled herself and rose to her feet, then moved back to the table and a new discussion with Choya.

  Fitzgerald's gaze followed her, then swept the room selfconsciously. Danielle had given him something to think about. Several things, actually, but especially with regard to his standing. Maybe his chances were stronger than he'd thought, and maybe he could better them by applying himself to whatever role Nevarr assigned him. Even a supporting role.

  Maybe.

  11

  Celestial Palace

  Zi-jin Cheng (Forbidden City), Sian

  Sian Commonality, Capellan Confederation

  15 October 3060

  On the dais sat the large, hand-carved wooden artifact that was the Celestial Throne, seat of the Capellan Confederation, and on that throne Sun-Tzu Liao leaned back in comfort. He wore a black silk Han jacket, its jade green embroidery matching his eyes. Conspicuously absent were the wide-should
ered silk robes of the Chancellor's office. Sun-Tzu broke with tradition only with purpose, and right now his not wearing the silk robes in the throne room served as a constant reminder to everyone that his very presence on Sian was a carefully guarded secret.

  No one, Sun-Tzu was sure, wanted to be the person who let that secret slip before its time.

  His gaze traveled from one advisor to the next, lingering on each for only a few seconds. Present were Talon Zahn, forced into full dress uniform with Sun-Tzu's alleged disappearance on Hustaing and so now acting as regent, Imarra House Master Ion Rush, and Maskirovka Directress Sasha Wanli, the same three people who had been there seven months ago when he had begun setting his plan in motion. Only one new presence this time, his sister Kali, who stood quietly in the shadow thrown by a display suit of ancient Chinese armor from the Ndn Bei Chao dynasties.

  The only slice of darkness in the room and she finds it.

  Kali's presence bothered Sun-Tzu, in several ways. He believed her irredeemably lost, heavily afflicted by and now embracing the insanity that had plagued their mother. A member of the Thugee cult of assassins and worshipped by its members, even she believed herself to be the reincarnation of the death goddess for whom she'd been named. It made her one of the most unpredictable forces under Sun-Tzu's rule. But skewed though her reality might seem, the best Maskirovka psychoanalysts vouched for her complete devotion to the Confederation and to Sun-Tzu himself. And because Kali was one of only six people who knew of his return to the palace, he could not afford to dismiss her. She obviously had her ways about her, and so he would placate her desire to be present if it might buy her cooperation.

  And as for cooperation . . . "Why is my aunt so quiet?" he asked, this first question pressing on his mind. He needed to spark a confrontation with Candace, and it was hard to argue with silence. Unbidden, an old piece of advice rose to mind. When your actions are hinging on an enemy response, do not forget to inform the enemy. He thrust the unwanted thought aside. Sooner or later he would force a response from his aunt, but Sun-Tzu would rather it be sooner.

  Zahn nodded to Sasha Wanli, deferring Sun-Tzu's question to her. "Candace is playing a waiting game," Sasha said, full of the confidence she had been missing in March. She'd had more than half a year to win herself back into her Chancellor's good graces, and obviously thought she had done so. "Security has held, and she believes you trapped on Hustaing. She's hoping the Lancers can capture you, presenting her with a bargaining chip. We would not be able to claim as many concessions from the Compact if she were to then intervene and see you safely back to Sian." She smoothed a wrinkle from the arm of her black dress. "Her only other choice, per Colonel Zahn's terms, is full capitulation."

  She will not capitulate. Candace would see the Blackwind Lancers destroyed rather than invite what were sure to be unreasonable—to her—Confederation demands. He had thought that Candace would find another way, but not silent support.

  That was almost too crafty. Too Liao? He saw ways to take advantage of that. Bringing his hands together in front of him, fingertip to fingertip, Sun-Tzu looked to his Imarra House Master. "And is that true, Ion? Has security held?"

  "The facts seem to suggest so, Chancellor." The large man clasped his hands behind his back. Possibly in support of Talon Zahn's position, Rush had opted for House Imarra's dress uniform. Simpler than the standard Confederation Armed Forces formal dress, it still prevented Zahn from standing out overmuch. "The HPG communications blackout on Hustaing has certainly held, and palace security is as tight as I can make it." He glanced once toward Kali, but said nothing.

  Yes, Kali. The proverbial fly in any ointment. Sun-Tzu kept his face studiously neutral. "What of Hustaing? Has Word of Blake relayed to us anything of value?"

  Rush nodded. "The Blackwind Lancers technically hold Hustaing's capital city Qingliu, but only because House Hiritsu employs its DropShips to keep the Lancers bottled up inside. Of course, per your request, we have implied to the scandalvids that the Lancers are strongly defending their gains in Qingliu against efforts to retake the city." The House Master smiled without humor. "The fighting has turned desperate since the Lancers learned that their JumpShip abandoned them. They try to make breaks for the nearby mountain range, but when they do House Hiritsu manages to lop off another piece and then drive them back. I estimate they can hold out perhaps another month at best."

  Another month of desperate fighting. Good news. Sun-Tzu had been slightly anxious. Having a WarShip scare off the Lancers' transportation back to the Compact had been his idea, but it could have backfired by taking the heart out of them. He knew a moment's concern for warriors and citizens of the Confederation who would suffer and die because of the prolonged fight, but it couldn't be helped. The final result—Sun-Tzu's vision of a strengthened Confederation—required the sacrifice.

  Talon Zahn gained his attention with a slight cough. "We also have news of your fiancee, Celestial Wisdom." By Zahn's stiffly formal delivery, Sun-Tzu knew what that news would be. Useless. "Her Death Commando bodyguards and approximately a dozen infantry were killed, but Isis Marik was apparently rescued by an infantryman and is safe. For the moment."

  Isis is hardly worth a dozen Capellan lives these days. Not while Thomas Marik has a new heir and continues to refuse our marriage. Sun-Tzu frowned. Well, not everything can go strictly according to plan. "Very soon people will begin to wonder why we have not dropped a regiment onto Hustaing," he said. "Colonel Zahn, how do our troop dispositions look?"

  "Many of our newest units are still masquerading as Home Guard. Now, because of the assault and the recent upgrade in alert status of all St. Ives military forces, I have placed all regular line units garrisoning our border with the Federated Commonwealth and those on Confederation core worlds on full alert. This locks them into place, pending a possible invasion. The vocal support that the Blackwind Lancers are receiving out of Denbar and a few other worlds is not hurting our efforts in this regard. Along with our current efforts in the Disputed Territories and Chaos March, there are few units we can move right now without opening up a supposed hole in our defenses." Zahn paused. "I did send another unit into the Magistracy; garrison support for Naomi Centrella while her mother attends the Detroit Conference. But they were already posted so far away as to be out of consideration for Hustaing."

  Sun-Tzu stood and paced slowly along the edge of the dais. Not that he was nervous, but he sensed the subtle yet impressive forces under his control converging and felt the sudden need for movement. Slow pacing was a compromise. It gave him a focus for his physical energies, but did not distract his thoughts. He stopped at a brazier and added a pinch of sandalwood incense to the coals. The scent drifted up, lightly perfumed and soothing.

  "I will contact Thomas Marik," he decided aloud. "He should be the first to know that I did not travel to Hustaing, and I can explain that his daughter was continuing on in my place. It will give me the excuse to draft one of his border units, the Second Oriente Hussars, I would think, and place them under SLDF colors. They will be brought in to supplement our defenses so I can rescue my betrothed. Thomas does not need to know that Isis is currently safe and protected, not that I believe he truly cares one way or the other."

  Sun-Tzu paused, considering. "Katrina, Theodore Kurita, and Yvonne will be contacted too, in that order and all within the next two weeks with a similar request to place troops under SLDF colors. That will get troops moving this way."

  Zahn smiled thinly, his dark eyes impassive. "It also reinforces our inability to divert heavy forces at this time." He nodded. "A useful arrow that brings down two birds."

  Three birds, Sun-Tzu corrected his top military commander silently. But it was not yet time to divulge the balance of his plans, so he simply nodded in agreement.

  "Katrina Steiner-Davion will likely demand something in return," Sasha noted for the benefit of all present. "Reports of civil unrest are sparking all over the Commonwealth, and with the Tikonov incidents, she has even offered
to loan your uncle Tormano's services to Yvonne to help quiet the troubles." The older woman's grin came nowhere close to touching her eyes. "In a most regrettable incident of late, some FedCom soldiers walked into an area of Tikonov's capital where celebrations for the Festival of the Dead had begun. A riot started. The next morning the soldiers were found crucified."

  A fine ending, Sun-Tzu thought. Just the kind of efforts he wanted conducted there. But news that Katrina might release his uncle Tormano to interfere with the Free Tikonov Movement troubled him. "My uncle once headed Free Capella. If he were to pick up those reins again he could damage our work." He wrestled with his options, but in the end Tikonov was still a long game and could afford a setback. "I will make Katrina an offer before she requests her own, and allow her to pick the unit I will draft from Yvonne. A trade of minor concessions. Perhaps that will keep her happy for now."

  "You intend to allow Candace to discover your presence on Sian through Theodore or Yvonne?" This from Ion Rush. "That gives her the advantage in planning a response."

  Sun-Tzu nodded, already having thought that out for himself. "I can trust Theodore not to disclose my presence here if I tell him that it would threaten Isis' safety. Yvonne, however, I cannot trust to be so close-mouthed where my aunt is concerned. The day after I send a message to Yvonne I will make a public address damning the Compact for breaking the peace and threatening the safety of my fiancee. That will steal the thunder of any reply, and hurt Candace's credibility with the others for being silent so long."

  Then Sun-Tzu fixed his House Master with a cold stare. And speaking of hurting credibility. "But since you suggest it, Ion, perhaps on the same day I record Yvonne's message you could leak the news to my aunt as well."

 

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