Threads of Ambition

by Loren L. Coleman

  He had not planned for the Maskirovka review and reorganization until much later, and certainly not during such a critical time as this, but Sasha's lapses in competence allowed no other choice in this matter. The overhaul of the Maskirovka required someone with her field experience and knowledge of the organization to implement any necessary changes, and with her uncertain karma Sun-Tzu could not be sure how much longer she could be retained. But he still could not help wishing for a few more weeks, even a month, before having to implement this stage of the program.

  Enough. Once a decision is made, it is unwise to reverse it and even less wise to debate it.

  Sun-Tzu moved to his desk, relaxing into the overstuffed leather chair. From his pocket he brought out the data cube of his aunt's latest message, then dropped it into the reader at the desk's corner. The touch-sensitive screen mounted flush in the desktop changed from a display of the Confederation's expanding borders to the visage of his aunt, Candace Liao. The flat, two-dimensional format appeared forced—she had obviously used a holorecorder—but served well enough.

  Candace Liao, back straight and features stern, bowed from the screen. " Wen-hdu, First Lord Liao." Sun-Tzu smiled at the formal Chinese greeting, and at how much it must have pained her to defer to him as Lord of the resurrected Star League. "By now I am certain you have seen the many broadcasts from St. Ives. You know, then, that the Blackwind Lancers have not been acting under my authority. That they chose to attack you was a grave error on the part of the battalion commanding officer, and that it happened on your Xin Sheng tour a gross injustice against your efforts for a stronger national pride."

  I'm not so sure about that, Sun-Tzu thought in the brief pause that followed. They have proven my point rather admirably. The Compact, in its de facto state of rebellion, cannot hope to match Confederation honor and dignity, nor can you match us on the field. Then again, having his own citizens yelling for Capellan blood, even if it would spill from the Compact, was not something that set well with him either. But given the choice, Sun-Tzu believed that any true Capellan citizens would gladly sacrifice their lives for the glory of rebirth for their nation.

  "And so," Candace continued, only a slight narrowing of her eyes betraying her anger, "with Word of Blake refusing to pass through any order of mine to Hustaing but an unconditional surrender, and not even that without your express permission, I am hereby requesting such authority. I have already made such announcements to my own realm, condemning the Lancers, in general, and Major Smithson's actions, in specific. I understand you have claimed the right to hold her, and I assume she will spend the rest of her life in the servitor caste, making up in some small way for her actions. I would not presume to challenge you on this."

  Because you know you would lose. Sun-Tzu did not buy into Candace's apologetic act, and he doubted that she expected him to. But form will be served, will it not?

  "The rest of the Lancers, however, I am responsible to," Candace said, steel creeping into her voice. "After their surrender, unconditional or not, I will fight for their repatriation in the Star League council as soon as your term as First Lord has expired." That was no less than Sun-Tzu expected. "I am asking you, instead, to demonstrate your goodwill by escorting the Lancers back to the Compact. I will guarantee concessions, not the least of which that the battalion will be disbanded and its personal colors struck."

  As Candace's message faded to black, the sharp clicks of Talon Zahn's boots against the tiled hallway outside warned Sun-Tzu of the military coordinator's approach. So the Lancers are disgraced and Major Smithson offered up as a sacrifice. Cold, dear aunt, but efficient. Your Federated Commonwealth ties have not completely shackled your Liao resolve. Yes, Candace, I will escort your wayward warriors home. But not in the manner you suggest or expect. Sun-Tzu smiled as he thought of how to use his aunt's exact words against her.

  "You sent for me, Chancellor?" Zahn, back in his utility uniform now that the charade of Sun-Tzu's absence from Sian had been dropped, stood respectfully in the doorway.

  Sun-Tzu nodded, trailing the flat of one long fingernail carefully along his jaw line. "Order the communications blackout lifted. Allow all St. Ives reports to flood Hustaing, and vice versa." Zahn stood silent, obviously expecting more from the summons, but Sun-Tzu merely stared back. "That is all, Colonel."

  Zahn frowned, a very unusual show of emotion for him, but then nodded his acceptance of the order. "At once, Celestial Wisdom."

  As the senior colonel departed, Sun-Tzu credited him for being able to keep the doubt from his voice. Every time you believe you know what I am about, I change the rules. But that is not your concern. It is the ruler's place to handle politics. Your job is to win battles, where and when I tell you but the how left to your own design.

  Sun-Tzu listened as Zahn's steps faded back down the hallway, then sent a silent message after his military commander.

  The where and when are coming.

  15

  Nonjhi Spaceport

  Qingliu, Hustaing

  Sian Commonality, Capellan Confederation

  12 November 3060

  Leading Isis Marik's honor squad onto the Peal of True Wisdom's ramp, then escorting her down to the ferrocrete landing pad on which the DropShip sat, Aris raised his left hand up to the corner of his mouth and pressed down on the microphone's thumb-activated operations tab.

  "Capella One is moving," he stated in a quick, crisp report. A chill breeze pushed gray clouds across the sky and tugged at the cloak of Aris' dress uniform while he mentally checked off each security post as all came in with messages of clear and secure. It still tugged at his sense of order, using the same codes and procedures now that it was known that Sun-Tzu was safely back on Sian, but the House Master had yet to alter his standing order and so Aris persevered.

  Not that Hustaing was any longer considered a hostile zone.

  House Master Ty Wu Non awaited them at the foot of the ramp, also dressed in House Hirtisu's formal green and black. With him stood Captain Warner Doles, executive officer of the Blackwind Lancers' second battalion. Unshaven and unkempt, Doles looked a poor contrast to House Master Non's precision appearance, though he dwarfed the House Master in size and bulk.

  But after six weeks of combat and repeated failures to achieve anything but disgrace and his own nation's antipathy, how should I expect him to look?

  The honor squad split ranks, enveloping House Master Non and his charge and then forming a perimeter around the small confrontation. Only Aris broke off, taking up station within the perimeter to Isis Marik's left. His right hand never strayed far from the butt of his Nakjama. Captain Doles was not manacled, and looked strong enough to cause trouble if he decided to take some kind of vengeance on the Chancellor's fiancee.

  Isis did not flinch, staring up at the large man and regarding him with cool neutrality. "As senior prisoner of war, you have been asked to look after your people. You can confirm that they have been treated well?" Having come so close to death or capture at the hands of the Blackwind Lancers, Aris felt that she maintained incredible composure.

  "Well enough," Doles admitted. "I have five warriors currently under treatment in the Condor's medical bay, but they should recover. I suppose I should thank you for the excellent care they are receiving."

  Five people heavily injured, nine walking wounded, and six dead. Aris had read the final reports. Add in one dead House Hiritsu warrior and another who would never again pilot a BattleMech, no matter how good prosthetics were these days. He still believed the St. Ives Compact to be an unlawful state, yes. But it was a high price in Capellan blood for an engagement that effectively accomplished nothing. At least nothing Aris could see.

  Aris had also been on hand to witness the prisoners being loaded and confined on the infantry's Condor Class DropShip. They were a beaten unit, even the uninjured having little to look forward to but the formal dissolution of their once-proud command. By Candace's own public order, the Blackwind Lancers would be forevermore
limited to their remaining two battalions. And so far as he could tell, only the people of Denbar were raising any amount of objection. No doubt Candace Liao plans public admissions of responsibility from the Lancers, which should quell any final complaints.

  Isis nodded her acceptance of Captain Doles' less than gracious word of thanks. "Then if you have no pressing concern," she said with formal grace but a coldness that suggested the only answer should be no, "our business is concluded."

  Warner Doles stepped forward, and Aris immediately caught him by the shoulder to hold him at a respectable distance as his right hand half-pulled his Nakjama. The captain eased off but said, "I do have two concerns, Duchess Marik, if you will forgive the presumption."

  Aris kept one hand on Doles' arm, ready to lead him away. Unfortunately, Isis had left herself open to such a request and so nodded curtly. The Lancers captain cleared his throat. "I did not see our commanding officer, Major Smithson, among the prisoners or wounded, or on the death reports. Nor have I seen any indication that our BattleMechs have been loaded. Will they be traveling back to Denbar on a separate DropShip?" He nodded to the Dainwu, its egg-shaped outline easily visible, though at the opposite side of the field. "On the Overlord perhaps?"

  Isis considered for a moment, a small crease between her eyes the only sign of her internal debate, then she relented. "Major Smithson is aboard the Pearl of True Wisdom," she informed the captain. "She is to be taken back to Sian, where First Lord Liao will stand in judgment of her." She paused to allow this news to settle in.

  Warner Doles took it calmly enough, though Aris sensed from his grip on the other man the immediate tension that Isis' announcement had caused. The man still felt some vestige of loyalty to his commanding officer, even though she was in the wrong. Commendable, if misplaced.

  "As to the Blackwind Lancers' BattleMechs and other equipment," Isis continued, "they have been seized as spoils of warfare. Including DropShips. Only the mercenary forces whom you persuaded to follow you here will be allowed to retain their equipment as they were technically following a legitimate representative of the Compact; namely, the Lancers and Major Smithson."

  Disgraced and dispossessed! Aris almost lost his hold on the other man as the very idea shook him. No Mech Warrior could bear the thought of losing his 'Mech. It was Chancellor Liao's way of salvaging something from the situation, and an effective method at that, confiscating equipment worth millions of C-bills. No doubt with further reparations to come from the Compact.

  Doles did not quite see it that way. "Several of those 'Mechs are personal property," he said, anger and disbelief mixing into a look of shock. "Most of them have never known service outside the Blackwind Lancers." His incredulity quickly wore off. "You can't do that."

  Tu Wu Non stepped between Warner Doles and Isis. "Mind your manner when addressing the Duchess," he ordered, not bothering to hide his sneer of contempt, though he kept his voice fairly civil for Isis' sake. "Your unconditional surrender certainly does give Chancellor Liao the right. Feel fortunate that he has offered you the chance to return with your lives to the Compact. What you have left of them, anyway."

  "The Lancer BattleMechs will be used to form a new Confederation unit," Isis said, a slight curl playing at the edge of her lips. "In the same tradition with which the Harloc Raiders were raised from a Home Guard militia force, Chancellor Liao will use this incident to create the Hustaing Warriors."

  Aris read Isis' approval of her fiancee's actions in her tone and delivery. And it is a brilliant move. A Compact defeat leading to the strengthening of the Confederation military. Aris felt a small swell of pride for his Chancellor at the idea. If anything glorious was to come of the suffering on Hustaing, then this would have to suffice.

  * * *

  Li Wynn walked proudly as a member of the honor squad.

  His captivity under the Blackwind Lancers had not been easy, placed in a cell with no windows, twenty-four hour lights, and the same meal served every eight hours. Nothing incredibly inhumane, but with no concept of night or day and no news of the battle, Li constantly wondered after his adopted House. He bore his fate with the knowledge that he had excelled in his duty, and for one moment had actually served Isis Marik, the Chancellor's betrothed, directly.

  And now I serve her again, in the most honor-filled assignment of House Hiritsu infantry.

  House Master Ty Wu Non had stopped by medical while Li was being checked over, following his release with the Blackwind Lancers' unconditional surrender. He talked only to the doctor, of course, but his visit still officially recognized Li as a member of the House for the first time since his adoption. Infantry Commander Jessup never said one word either, but quietly changed the duty schedule to put Li on the honor squad.

  In fact, only two people directly commented on his actions at all. Aris Sung, in his capacity as Li's Sifu, had criticized him. "The bread truck was a wrong move," he'd said. "You should have stayed on foot. Easier to move from building to building and minimizing your time on the street." But however harsh Aris' tone, Li caught the hint of a smile in Aris' eyes—a sign Aris surely could have hidden—and knew that his Mentor was secretly pleased.

  The other person had been Isis Marik herself. On his first assignment to the honor guard, she had turned to face him directly. There could have been no conversation—no Hiritsu infantry would dare let down his guard to hold a discussion— but she had quietly and simply said, "Thank you."

  Both her thanks and Aris' silent approval more than made up for any discomfort he had borne. Then there was also the newfound respect of his brothers in arms, other infantrymen who now behaved toward Li as if he'd been among their number for years instead of months. Li belonged.

  Now Li watched as House Master Non and Isis Marik faced off against the sick officer. His own private joke, that, referring to the St. Ives Compact by the pronunciation of its initials "SIC." He thought it fitting for the mongrel state; a sick dog that needed putting down. Then, the final words exchanged, Aris led the honor guard protecting Isis Marik back up into the Pearl of True Wisdom while House Master Non remained with the Lancers captain to turn him over to guards who would escort the prisoner back to the Condor.

  That such enemies of the Capellan nation, and of the very philosophy of Xin Sheng, were allowed to exist angered Infantryman Li Wynn. The forms must be followed, but such people couldn't hide forever. Some day, the Chancellor's justice will come to them.

  Li only hoped that he would be alive to see it, and to be a part of it.

  16

  Xin Singapore District, Indicass

  St. Ives Compact

  1 December 3060

  Strapped into the command couch of her General Motors Cestus, the BattleMech hidden within a heavy stand of cedar and pine several klicks out from Xin Singapore, Cassandra Allard-Liao ran her weapons status for the fifth time. The torso-mounted Gauss rifle checked out fine, as did the paired large and medium lasers in each of the BattleMech's arms. Her skin prickled with the flush of coolant through her vest, though she did not expect that to last much longer once the fireworks started. A bit early for the Chinese new year, but I'll oblige.

  Her comm unit crackled to life. "There they go!"

  Cassandra stared out through the Cestus' front viewport and into the predawn sky, watching as the three bright stars that had been falling in perfect formation broke apart. One continued its hard drop onto her position, where her battalion of the Second St. Ives Lancers waited with Tamas' Company of Rubinsky's Light Horse. The other two suddenly split off to the south and north, the bright stars of the drive flares turning to flaming streamers as the angle changed.

  A toggle on her comm panel opened a channel through the secure land-line that ran to each company commander and Tamas. "Looks like your father called it right, Captain Rubinsky. The flanking DropShips are fading north and south."

  Over the air waves came the Slavic inflection of Tamas' voice. "Of course, Major Liao. Two years we've had to figure out how an as
sault force would take Indicass' capital. You drop one third of a force near Xin Singapore itself, one third near Ceres Metals, and the rest here, halfway between the two and able to support either one or move against the spaceport."

  "Well, the Cheveux Legers battalion can hold Ceres Metals." Cassandra flexed her fingers, then eased them around the Cestus's control sticks. "Looks like we'll get first blood here." Which was fine by her. Those were Overlords, which meant a battalion at best. With Tamas' supporting company and the element of surprise, she expected her St. Ives Lancers to easily dominate the field.

  "Major Liao, Colonel Rubinsky, this is Light Horse central," an unfamiliar voice whispered heavily in her right ear. "We have received first transmissions from dropping force. They order Light Horse to stand down."

  Cassandra switched over to regular transmission, but the colonel beat her to it. "By whose orders?" he asked. Sitting with the bulk of his Light Horse just east of Xin Singapore, Colonel Rubinsky was in prime location to decimate the landing deployment of the northern DropShip.

  "First Lord Sun-Tzu Liao." A pause. "They say they are the occupation force for Indicass. Peaceful."

  "A peaceful occupation force," Cassandra asked no one in particular, "dropping under cover of emissions blackout and with no notification from my mother? I don't think so." The drive flare above Cassandra's position brightened as the Overlord engaged its final braking. Nice try, cousin, but you've played your last trick.

  "We hold to our plan, Colonel Rubinsky, striking at them as they move out from the cover of the Overlords. Have your Pegasii fighter squadrons ready to tie up those DropShips."