"We need Group W, but they were set down on Taga just in case the fighting spreads deeper into the Compact." Or in case Kai Allard-Liao and his First St. Ives Lancers can turn this around, once he makes it back. If he makes it back in time. Fitzgerald swallowed against the knot of anger tightening his throat. "One MechWarrior isn't going to make the difference here on Nashuar."
Startled, Danielle sounded worried all of a sudden. "You sound like you're ready to bet against us."
Fitz calmed down, and even managed a stab at a smile. "I don't think I'm that bad. Not yet. We'll hold out here, and with the new support from the Arcadian mercenary battalion we can hope to chew up the Canopians and even House Hiritsu. But don't forget, they chew back."
"Just remember," Danielle said as she stood, picking up her tray, "we don't hold BattleMechs while waiting on any one MechWarrior to make up his mind. We have openings now. Who knows when that will happen again."
He watched her walk off, dumping her tray and then passing through the door. Sooner than any of us want, he told her silently. And that is a safe bet.
30
Poyang Hu
Wanzai Province, Nashuar
St. Ives Compact
8 May 3061
The lakeside resort in Nashuar's remote Wanzai Province resembled an ancient Chinese village, laid out around the green waters of Poyang Hu. The buildings, from the large resort hall to the far-flung individual cottages, were all styled in graceful, flowing lines, sweeping roofs with peaked corners, wide steps— all the classic architecture for which China had once been known and that Japan later stole. Meticulously maintained trees and shrubbery landscaped the entire resort and screened cottages for some privacy. The midday sun sparkled on the water, in a setting meant to suggest the tranquillity of an earlier era and to promote peace of mind and rest.
Still in House Hiritsu field uniform, Aris Sung sat cross-legged out on the resort's floating dock, his back against one of the rough-hewn pilings that anchored the dock as he stared out over the lake. Every so often he dipped his hand into the cool waters, stirring the reflections. He was not seeking tranquillity, or rest. With his company back from the field and Li Wynn away in the support of another operation, he had hoped to sort out the thoughts plaguing him of late. But the Asian setting somehow disturbed him all the more, distracting him from his thoughts.
House Master Non had selected this place as their base of operations because of its ties to their heritage, he was sure. But as a personal reward for the Warrior House? Or a reminder that this world had once belonged to the Confederation and that its people, though misguided, were still Capellan?
Both, he finally decided. Following the death of previous House Master Virginia York, Aris had been very critical—but silently critical, of course—of Ty Wu Non's performance in the position. But over the last few years Non had grown into his role as Master of House Hiritsu. His orders were often based on reasoning that eluded the common warrior but, more often than not, in the end were seen to be full of a wisdom that Aris had simply been unable to fathom.
He felt the vibrations through the dock's planking of someone approaching from behind before he heard the gentle footfalls. He chose to ignore them, wrapped up in his own reflections.
"Brooding is not something I admire in my warriors." Ty Wu Non's voice was quiet but matter-of-fact. "Especially in a House Sifu."
Startled, twisting about violently and trying to uncoil from his relaxed posture, Aris nearly fell off the dock and into the lake's cool waters. In one quick motion, House Master Non stepped forward and laid a steadying hand on Aris' shoulder. "Remain seated, Aris Sung. I will join you." The House Master knelt on the dock, careful of his wide-shouldered robe, and swept his gaze out over the lake's green surface, which reflected the wooded shore. "Quite a view you have selected here."
Many House Warriors had taken to informal dress while between missions. Going native, Aris had thought of it, keeping to his field uniform though he knew he was being uncharitable. In actuality, they were simply wearing their in-House dress, rarely seen outside the House Hiritsu stronghold but which Ty Wu Non had authorized. Suddenly Aris felt very standoffish, sitting next to his House Master, who had chosen such simple garb for enjoying a beautiful day. He tugged uncomfortably at his collar.
"Not brooding, House Master," he said in response to Non's earlier statement. "Reflecting."
"Na dui ma?" Is that so? "There is a difference?" The House Master smiled thinly. "The occupation of Nashuar has been hard on us all, Aris Sung. I would never go so far as to say that House Hiritsu was wrong for this assignment, but Master Kung's teachings do weigh heavy on us. We want to give our family, even extended family related only by the thinnest Capellan blood, our respect and courtesy. That is difficult when our duty here requires of us to defeat them."
That is probably as close as any House Master ever came to criticizing the Chancellor. Aris nodded his understanding, nearly struck dumb with shock. The teachings of Kung-fu-tzu—Confucius to those of the House not quite as heavily learned in the older forms of address—were central to House Hiritsu philosophies. Noble sentiments, and engendering a strong sense of familial loyalty within the House. Perhaps Master Non was correct, and it should be House Imarra, with their political leanings, or Daidachi and its drive toward excellence in combat that should be here.
After a moment of silent thought, Aris decided that perhaps the House Master expected some response from him. But something oblique. Not polite conversation, but as close as we can manage. "I studied the ROMs of the Khingan battle," he said carefully, the slight shift in Ty Wu Non's posture telling him that he had his House Master's attention. "Supplied by the Lyrans before Chancellor Liao ordered their return to Alliance space." He shook his head. "That was not duty, that was personal. I doubt House Hiritsu could ever turn on another Capellan with that kind of ferocity."
Ty Wu Non looked straight at Aris, their dark gazes meeting. "Which could be the very reason we were selected. Interesting viewpoint. Hold onto that thought, Aris Sung, and you will do fine."
No, Aris thought. Not fine. But I will do my duty. And when I can, I will take some pride in the execution of my responsibilities. But he nodded, and said, "Of course, House Master."
In one fluid motion, Non levered himself up from the dock and rose to his feet. "I did not mean to interrupt your ... reflection. I actually came out here to simply enjoy the view, and to let you know that I am pleased with the progress of your charge. Infantryman Wynn has proved himself very resourceful. I would almost go so far as to say an asset to the House." And with that, the House Master retreated from the dock.
Aris agreed, feeling a brief touch of pride. For a moment he remembered the young warrior of last year who had been so eager for glory and the chance to serve his House. Aris believed Li had become what he had dreamed of, though he still had much to learn.
"As do I," Aris whispered to his reflection in the lake. He swiped his hand through it, dissolving it in a splash of water. As do I.
* * *
Li Wynn wrestled against the unconscious body of another infantryman, dragging it off his legs. Someone is going to pay for this.
The interior of the brand new Blizzard hover transport was chaos, with bodies and weapons thrown around during the crash. The transport rested against something, throwing the vehicle's floor into a strange angle. The left-side armor was more memory than fact, with large holes punched into it and the red-hot edge where a laser had burned partially through. A few luckless infantrymen had caught pieces of the penetrating damage, and their blood slowly pooled in the lowermost corner. Li checked himself over, finding bruises and aching joints but otherwise whole.
"They're banking around," the driver yelled back from the forward compartment. "A Harasser and a J. Edgar." Overhead came the roar of long-ranged missiles from the turret launcher.
Li put about as much faith in the LRMs protecting them as he did in the light armor that had already failed its job. The Blizz
ard relied on speed, and now even that had been lost to it. Slinging his assault rifle over one shoulder, he grabbed a loose grapple rod and a satchel charge and was already at the rear door before anyone yelled, "Evac!" As the other House infantrymen grabbed up whatever weapons they could, Li punched the controls that lowered the entire back wall as a ramp. He hit dirt first, and moved immediately for some cover behind a small cluster of boulders at the foot of a small rise.
Flanked by two long, low hills, the main battle raged at fairly close quarters. The BattleMechs under Company Leader James held one pass while the Nashuar Home Guard supported by armor held the other. The Blizzard had been attempting to sneak around, where the infantry could come in close and try to plant satchel charges on the BattleMechs, when the light screening tanks of the Home Guard caught them.
You don't take Hiritsu infantry out of a fight so easy. Li spotted the two enemy hovercraft, wisely making a long sweeping turn to avoid Warrior House BattleMechs. He tried to gauge their next run against the Blizzard, then set off on a sprint for a point a hundred meters out onto the open plains.
"Li, get back here," Infantryman Mikhail Chess called out as Li broke cover. "What are you doing?"
"Payback!" Li yelled back. Then he concentrated on nothing except placing one foot after the other in an all-out run for his goal.
A small and scraggly bush offered the only cover nearby and Li slid down behind it. It was only then that he became aware of other footsteps, and then a body flopping down to the ground next to him.
"I didn't want you to get lonely," Chess said. Then both of them buried their heads under their arms as a flight of missiles that had missed its intended target slammed into the earth and detonated not twenty meters away, throwing up a cloud of dirt and scorched vegetation that rained down over the two infantry. "What are we doing here?"
"I'm going after one of those tanks," Li said simply.
Grapple rods were invented to match infantry against BattleMechs. A foot strap attached to one end of the meter-long shaft and a special adhesive ball fired from the other on a thin cable. The idea being that the ball would affix itself to the lower torso of a 'Mech and then the infantryman would ride up when the winding mechanism reeled the shaft up toward the ball. With a bit of luck, the infantryman could plant a satchel of explosives into the BattleMech's vulnerable knee or hip joint.
Well, hovercraft have their own vulnerabilities. Li unfastened one of the straps on the satchel charge, looping it through the grapple rod's foot strap before fastening it again. With no one to thumb the activation button, this won't reel in.
"Li, they're coming in."
And thirty meters off my estimation! Li hurried, readying the explosive charge. "I'll never make the first one, but when I yell you spray some laserfire over the windshield of the Harasser." And with that simple instruction, Li was off and running again to intercept the hovercrafts' line of attack.
As he expected, he missed the J. Edgar, which flew by at better than a hundred kilometers per hour. For the Harasser, though, he was dead on target.
"Now!" Li yelled, crouching in the open and aiming the grapple rod at the tank. He wanted the driver distracted, so as not to notice him. It worked too well. The Harasser, with bright laser bolts splashing into its window, swerved hard to throw off the unseen gunner and pointed the speeding craft directly at Li Wynn.
Li barely had time to fire off the grapple-rod ball, point blank, and then hit the ground as the hovercraft skimmed right over him. The roar of the fans was deafening, and Li felt as if he'd been thrown into a giant air compressor. He could feel his hair snapping against the side of his neck, stinging, as dirt ground into his eyes and ears. He also heard yelling, almost drowned out at first by the fans, but then growing louder in his ears as the hovercraft passed on.
It took Li a few seconds to realize the yelling was coming from him, then he stopped yelling and started counting while he watched the retreating Harasser. At the count of six the explosive charge, which had been dangling at the end of the grapple rod cable right near the lip of the hovercraft's skirt, detonated with a fiery explosion. One quarter of the skirt ruptured, spilling the cushion of air it had trapped beneath the light tank. The Harasser plowed into the ground at better than a hundred-fifty kph, nose crumpling, then flipped end over end as it continued to disintegrate.
Li stood up slowly and brushed off his uniform, as if he had all the time he could ever want. Ignoring the near-deafening sound of the 'Mech battle that still raged between the hills, he unslung his rifle and advanced on the Harasser. I have a prisoner to acquire or a body-count to confirm.
And it mattered little to Li Wynn which it would be.
31
Hai Fen-ling
Xin Singapore Province, Indicass
St. Ives Compact
28 May 3061
Cassandra cracked the hatch on her Cestus and climbed out onto the BattleMech's shoulder, welcoming the fresh air and a view of Indicass that did not involve staring at a monitor or out through her pitted and scored cockpit viewscreen. Sunlight filtered down through a canopy of vines and broad leaves, muted to a green tint, the perpetual shade responsible for the name Hai Fen-ling, the Black Forest.
There the peaceful scene ended, however. Any soothing forest sounds Cassandra might have heard if out for a nature walk were replaced by the gunshot-cracks of snapping tree limbs and splintering trunks as her battalion closed in around her position and then also shut down. Several of them carried salvaged parts from their recent battle—BattleMech limbs and even three fairly complete machines of Free Worlds League manufacture including a near-perfect Apollo.
Tamas Rubinsky waited for her at the Cestus' foot. His own Enforcer stood thirty meters distant, the 'Mech holding a silent vigil at the head of its company. The other Light Horse MechWarriors sat or, more often, slept on blankets thrown onto the forest floor. Looks good to me, she thought, knowing herself to be several hours away from anything remotely resembling sleep. Her joints ached from too many hours spent in her 'Mech. Sweat from the latest battle had dried, leaving a gritty residue in the folds of her eyes, which she rubbed away. Her mouth was pasty and she felt weary from lack of fluids, but there was no help for that.
She rolled out her chain-link ladder and then climbed down as Tamas held the lower end from swinging free. "Thanks," she said, reaching the ground and leaning back against Cestus. An awkward moment built up between them, as Cassandra remembered the first time she'd met Tamas and the way she'd been forced to part company with the Light Horse on her last visit to Indicass. My actions were later vindicated. Sun-Tzu was coming, no matter what, but twenty-twenty hindsight rarely helps excuse an error in judgment.
One hand mysteriously held behind his back and the hint of a smile tilting his mouth, Tamas remained stoic throughout the awkward moment. Then he nodded a simple greeting. "Is good to see you again, Major Allard-Liao."
Cassandra rubbed her hands briskly over her face for a few seconds, waking herself up, then glanced suspiciously at the Light Horse captain. "Don't tell me you're holding a bottle and two shot glasses behind you, Tamas?"
Laughing, Tamas shook his head. "Not vodka, no." He brought out a VitaOrange sports drink, condensation dripping off it. "But still good for what ails you."
"What's it going to cost me?" Cassandra asked, enjoying the banter almost as much as she yearned for the drink. Has it been so long since I've been able to relax with someone?
"Trade you straight," he offered, his Slavic accent warm in her ears. "Drink for the salvage you just bring in."
"Deal," Cassandra said, accepting the plastic bottle as he laughed again, deep and rich. She like his laugh, full of life and energy like his accent. "If I weren't so tired," she said after her first deep drink of the orange beverage, "I could kiss you for this." Then she turned serious again. "Really, Tamas, how much do you need? Take it all if necessary. My Lancers have nearly a full company of replacement 'Mechs already."
Tamas gestured her t
oward a nearby blanket, and she nodded gratefully. "What you bring us from Milos was most appreciated. The colonel sends his regards and thanks." The two of them settled onto the blanket, Tamas sitting cross-legged and Cassandra lying back to stare up into the forest canopy. "So the question is, how much do you need, Major?"
"I think we've known each other long enough that you should call me Cassandra," she told him. "And I got away light. One 'Mech down and two with major damage, but no warriors lost." She took another long pull at her drink. "They weren't expecting a full battalion to hit them."
Tamas regarded her silently for a moment. "Every warrior in the Light Horse has a 'Mech. Perhaps you should take this salvage yourself, or for another unit."
"Giving away free equipment?" Cassandra allowed her surprise to show. That wasn't quite the mercenary way. "Colonel Rubinsky might take exception to that."
"He said to extend you every courtesy." Tamas shrugged, though mention of his father obviously did seem to sit uneasily with him. "I think you have more worries than just Indicass."
Cassandra sat up, feeling more energetic. "Maybe not. I have a plan that will allow us to reclaim Indicass. At the very least we'll retake Ceres Metals. But I need Light Horse support before I put it before my mother." She moved over to the edge of the blanket and sketched a rough outline of the province on the forest floor. "If we can lure the Second Hussars away from the facility with a diversion—"
"The Second Oriente Hussars no longer guard Ceres Metals, Cassandra," Tamas said softly, interrupting her. "I talked to my father before you arrive. Warrior House Daidachi has claimed the facility."
"House Daidachi? Here?" Cassandra lay back with a groan, her aches returned with a vengeance. She tried to puzzle out a new solution. Daidachi was one of her cousin's best Warrior Houses. She could match her Lancers against them, but she knew her mother would never allow her to risk the battalion to such a plan. Cassandra struck the ground with her fist. "Then it can't be done," she said quietly.
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