Warrior, coupe

  Justin opened his left hand, revealing a myriad of crisscrossed silver scars on the metal palm and fingers. "Instinctively, I grabbed for his gun to redirect it. My hand blocked the blast at the muzzle before the darts could spread. The impact drove my fist back into my stomach, knocking my wind out, but I'll be all right."

  Alexi looked down at Justin's right side. "What about the first shot?"

  Justin shrugged and slowly stood. He steadied himself against the wall. "Flesh wound. Needles cut some coolant lines, and that stuff stings like hell in the lacerations, but no real damage. Just some more scars."

  Justin caught Alexi looking at the holodisk from Candace, but the slender man only shrugged. "You're my boss, Justin. You know what you're doing. I know you're not the spy I'm looking for, so I trust your judgment."

  Justin cocked his head to the side. "Then why did you come back here?"

  Justin heard Alexi's smile in his voice. "Didn't trust Ling." Punctuating his remark, Alexi stepped on Ling's jammer and destroyed it.

  Radio chatter suddenly filled Justin's ears. "Xiang, come in! Kwok and I have four 'Mechs coming in. Two read as Valkyries, one Jenner and a Centurion. We're moved to engage."

  "Roger, Ivanov. Hold them. I'm coming up." Justin pointed toward the lab's door. "Alexi, get everyone out and back to the ship. We'll hold the 'Mechs off, then join up. Got it?"

  "Check." Alexi hesitated. "And Justin?"

  "Yes?"

  The tall man pointed at Ling's body. "I'm glad we got that Davion assassin before he got you." Justin nodded. "Amen to that. See you on the ship."

  12

  Bethel

  Capellan March, Federated Suns

  14 April 3029

  Captain Andrew Redburn stared at the auxiliary monitor in his Centurion. "Say that again, Captain? What the hell are you telling me?"

  The Captain of the Overlord Class DropShip gritted his teeth against the anger in Redburn's voice. "I said we've been had, Redburn. They had a goddamned Leopard hiding in the Overlord's shadow. It's broken off and is heading back toward your base."

  Andrew slammed his fist against the arm of his command couch. Andrew, you’re a flame-brained idiot! Sure, you learned how to anticipate the landing zone for incoming enemies, and you got your people here, but who taught you that little gem? Justin Xiang Allard! Andrew stiffened and clenched his fists so tight they went white. Dammit! Justin must have planned this little raid, and he knew I'd take the bait like a raw recruit. Maybe he's even on the Leopard.

  Redburn looked at his primary monitor and saw that all of Delta Company, save himself and three others, had already gotten off the Defiant. "Listen up, Delta Company. We've got a Leopard heading back toward our base to rip things up while we're here. Bisot, de Ridefort, St. Armand, and I haven't unloaded yet, so we'll head back. Drew, since we're pulling two of your Valkyries, fold your lance in with Archie's fireteam."

  "Roger, Cap."

  Redburn shifted radio frequencies to the command frequency he shared with his second in command, Leftenant Robert Craon. "Robert, this is your play. You've got twenty-three 'Mechs in perfect working order. Their Overlord can carry thirty-six 'Mechs, though it's probably light. Hit and run until you can size them up, then hurt them. If they decide to break off, let them run. But guard any salvage."

  Craon's voice came back strong and nearly devoid of nervousness. "Copy, Captain. Be careful."

  Andrew nodded slowly. "Words to live by." Punching a button, Andrew brought the Defiant's Captain back on screen. "Captain, how about boosting us back to the western perimeter of our base, low arc, high speed."

  The older man smiled. "Course plotted and locked in. We'll be there in just under fifteen minutes."

  Andrew shuddered as he felt the vibrations of engine ignition thrum through the ship. Sweat trickled down his spine. They've got to be going for the lab, but how could they know about it? The garrison officer I took over from said the true identity of the lab had been passed only from commanding officer to commanding officer, Couldn't have the garrison too big because Bethel is a nothing world. All they do is raise some grain on the plains and there's that infant wine industry here in the mountains.

  Andrew keyed the radio connection to the three other pilots in his hastily formed lance. "Listen up, campers. This could be nasty. A Leopard peeled out of the Overlord's sensor shadow and has headed off toward our base." Andrew drew in a breath. Better made this sound good. "TerraDyne put out some press releases a couple of months ago talking about a breakthrough in miniaturization. Had an alert about it because they thought some local Maskirovka might take an interest. It looks like someone on Sian bought the story bigtime."

  Odo St. Armand's voice crackled into Andrew's neurohelmet. "What are we looking at, Cap?"

  Andrew punched some commands into his computer and patched his primary monitor into the ship's computer. The computer filled his display with a representation of the Leopard's, deceleration, handling, and energy output levels. "According to the computer, it looks like it was running with 'Mech weight, something slightly heavier than we are. Given Liao preferences, maybe a Centurion, a Vindicator, and a couple of that new thing they have . .. the Raven!"

  Andrew typed in another request for information, and the computer gave him a tactical readout on the Raven. Birdlike, the 'Mech sported two medium lasers on its right wing, a six-shot SRM pod on the right side of its body, and an Electronic Counter-Measures package on its nose. Below that, the computer confirmed that his estimate of enemy strength would fit within the parameters suggested by the Leopard's flight data.

  Andrew smiled. "The computer says there's an 80 percent chance my configuration is correct. The Raven has tissue paper for armor, but the ECM pods make them tough to hit. Watch for them to ambush us. The Vindicator's the only one of their 'Mechs that can jump. Its PPC will make short work of your Jenner, St. Armand, so steer clear unless you can get inside."

  "Roger, Cap." St. Armand laughed aloud. "I'll take out the Raven, guys, if you want the Vindicator. I figure the Captain will want to go mano-a-mano with the other Centurion."

  Redburn chuckled lightly. "That sounds fine, St. Armand. We'll see if their new Centurions work any better than the one I'm sitting in." Suddenly, a memory clawed its way up from where he consigned nightmares and unpleasant thoughts. Two years before, on a ship traveling from the Lyran Commonwealth to the Federated Suns, Andrew had seen the holovid of a battle on Solaris. Justin took part in that battle, and he fought in a Centurion.

  The instant that thought occurred to him, he knew that Justin was the pilot of the Liao Centurion. Conflicting emotions swirled through Andrew's mind. Mostly he was angry because he saw this assault on his planet as a personal insult. He's struck back at his father and at the Prince. Just over a year and a half ago, he sent assassins to kill me and the staff of Delta Company. He rejoiced, no doubt, when he found we were here protecting his prize.

  Andrew ground his teeth, then felt his stomach flip-flop. No, that can't be what happened. If nothing else, the Justin Allard I knew was not a murderer. He’d not have sent assassins. I didn't believe it then, and I have no reason to believe it now. Nausea soured the taste in his mouth. How could I think such horrible thoughts about a man who was my friend?

  A third emotion seared into Andrew, and his mind recoiled against all its implications. Whether or not he's the same man you once called friend, he's still a better MechWarrior than you’ll ever be. You saw what he did with a Valkyrie in combat with a Rifleman. Sure, the Valkyrie lost the fight, but there was enough armor blown off that Rifleman to build a Jenner. You'll be going up against him in evenly matched Centurions, which means you're still outgunned. He's forgotten more about Mech-Warrioring than you’ll ever know.

  Captain Porter's face appeared on Redburn's primary monitor again. "We're coming in, Redburn. Get your people ready!"

  Porter's voice shocked Andy out of his brooding. "Ready or not, gentlemen. We're on."

  Porter had the 'Mech b
ay doors halfway open before the ship hit the planet's surface. The DropShip settled roughly to the ground, and St. Armand's Jenner cleared the hatch before the ramp had fully extended. De Ridefort and Bisot likewise used their jump jets to leave the ship's hold. They set themselves up in a defensive perimeter as Redburn's Centurion lumbered from the Defiant.

  The Centurion pointed west with its autocannon. "Let's move it, but stay with my speed." Redburn started his 'Mech sprinting down the road at 68 kph, its maximum speed. "You quick things can use your speed when we get into combat. Won't be long now."

  Gerald de Ridefort's bass voice rumbled through the speakers in Andrew's helmet. "Rules of engagement, sir?"

  Andrew swallowed hard. "If it moves, kill it. We'll sort things out and apologize later."

  Around a bend in the road and up a slight incline, the Valkyries began to outstrip the Centurion. From a dark copse on the left, Andrew saw a series of bright, arrowlike flashes as the two hidden Ravens let fly with SRM volleys. Explosions battered de Ridefort's Valkyrie. Two missiles blasted armor from the 'Mech's thick left thigh while another wreathed its right ankle in a halo of orange flame. The last missile detonated beneath the Valkyrie's pointed chin, snapping the head up and around as it chipped armor plates away. The missiles that had missed peppered the hillside with brilliant bursts of vermilion and gold.

  As de Ridefort's Valkyrie stumbled back away from the ambush, Andrew turned his Centurion to face the shadowed grove. The Centurion's autocannon swept up and locked on target as the targeting crosshairs shot like a meteorite across Andrew's holographic display. The golden cross flashed once, confirming target acquisition, and Andrew hit the trigger.

  The Luxor autocannon growled like a wild beast as it vomited fire and metal. Phosphorescent tracer rounds drew frozen lines of light from the gun's muzzle to the target, then shot off at sharp angles as their fragments ricocheted through a cloud of armor debris. Silver light flared vividly from one Raven's right side as autocannon shells ripped its right wing off and sent it sailing through the night sky.

  St. Armand's Jenner lanced four medium laser beams through the woods, igniting the trees they touched. Three of the ruby energy lances burned into the as-yet-undamaged Raven. Two beams carved armor from its leg in long liquid ribbons, exposing the myomer muscles and ferrotitanium bones beneath them. The other beam gashed a molten scar across the 'Mech's vestigial left wing.

  The second Raven, the one Andrew's computer had tagged as Beta, fired its two medium lasers at Bisot's Valkyrie. The beams raked like claws down the breast of his 'Mech. Liquefied armor ran down the furrows they ripped in the 'Mech's ceramic flesh, but failed to penetrate the Valkyrie's thick hide.

  In tandem, Bisot and de Ridefort—who had regained control of his reeling 'Mech—trained their lasers on the Beta Raven. Their lasers shot out in stuttering pulsed beams. De Ridefort's shot missed, but Bisot's aim was true. His laser stitched fire along the Raven's left flank, slicing off armor plates like a whittler carving wood.

  The Alpha Raven launched another SRM flight at de Ride-fort's Valkyrie, but the missiles passed harmlessly wide of their target. Despite apprehension about the harm that heat build-up could do to his 'Mech, Andrew linked the target for his LRMs to that of his autocannon. This has got to stop now. Dropping the crosshairs onto the Alpha Raven, Andrew let go with missiles and cannon fire.

  The Centurion's LRMs corkscrewed through the pitch-black night, then shattered the darkness with the lurid strobes of half a dozen explosions. Armor shot away from the Raven's left leg and arm like leaves tossed about in a strong wind. The autocannon's storm of shells peeled the armor from the Raven's left torso as though it were so much naranji rind. The Raven swayed, staggered by the savagery of the assault, then sank back on its haunches.

  Beta Raven loosed a volley of SRMs at Bisot's Valkyrie. The missiles lanced up at the humanoid 'Mech in a straight line. One blasted into laser-weakened chest armor, while two exploded against the Valkyrie's left arm. The fourth and final missile detonated against the Valkyrie's head, but Bisot weathered the blast that sent armor shards flying.

  St. Armand's Jenner again concentrated its fire on the Beta Raven. Only two beams hit target as the Raven's pilot moved to disengage. One light-spear stabbed through the tattered armor on the 'Mech's left wing and burst out the other side. Sparks erupted from the wound, and the wing twisted awkwardly toward the ground as its controlling myomer fibers melted.

  The wing's damage and uncontrolled rotation threw the Raven off-balance. It pivoted on its left leg just in time for the Jenner's second beam to rip a line through the armor on its right flank. De Ridefort and Bisot added their lasers to the assault, neatly slashing into the troubled Raven. Bisot's shot drilled into the 'Mech's right leg, jamming some half-melted armor into the reversed knee-joint.

  The Raven stumbled back toward the right as its damaged leg missed a step. When the motion exposed the Raven's naked left flank to de Ridefort, he speared laser fire through the 'Mech's vitals. The coruscating scarlet beam touched off a series of explosions in the Raven's SRM magazine. Like a string of firecrackers, the detonations flashed one after another until the roiling fireball ballooned into a brilliant sun. Its dazzling white light reduced the Raven's skeleton to a silhouette, then consumed it hungrily.

  Andrew sent his Centurion racing up the hill as the Alpha Raven reared back up to its feet and headed back down the hill. We've lost too much time already to go after it. We have to reach the factory. Andrew keyed up the Defiant's frequency. "Porter, we have one heading back toward you. Kill it." Andrew switched back to his command frequency before Porter answered him. "Remember, men, they have a Leopard out here, so don't do anything foolish."

  Cresting the hill, Andrew shifted his scanners from starlight to infrared. The holographic display changed from black with dark green highlights to a surreal rainbow landscape, with men and machines radiating white and yellow heat tracings. Off to his right, he saw the outline of a Vindicator and half a dozen bobbing balls of glowing light he recognized as running men. Over at the factory, he saw a Centurion standing next to the building and watched as a man-form leaped from the lab's roof into the 'Mech's open cockpit.

  "Bisot, de Ridefort, the Vindicator is yours. St. Armand ..." Andrew's voice died as his spirit rebelled against ordering a 'Mech to attack infantry.

  "I'm off varminting, Cap," came St. Armand's voice.

  The Vindicator, which looked like a Human giant except for the particle projection cannon that formed its right forearm, moved to block the Jenner's pursuit of the runners. It raised the PPC and let fly with an azure bolt of man-made lightning, but the jagged energy burst shot wide of the birdlike Jenner. The beam drilled into a pine tree, instantly igniting it into a torch, then exploding it into a million flaming splinters.

  Both Valkyries launched LRM volleys at the Vindicator. Missiles blasted up and down the PPC's barrel, stripping it of armor and exposing the glowing blue charging coils. Five missiles smashed into the Vindicator's left breast, blasting the armored hatches protecting LRM launch tubes off the 'Mech's chest, but failed to do more serious damage. Two other explosions gouged deep wounds into the armor on the 'Mech's right leg, but the armor remained unbreached.

  Andrew turned his attention to the Centurion. He punched up the old tactical frequency he'd shared with Justin Allard when Justin had commanded the First Kittery Training Battalion, the group that had become Redburn's Delta Company. "It's you, isn't it, Justin?"

  The answering voice sounded flatter and more inhuman than a computer construct's voice. "Run, Andrew. I owe you nothing. You have no hold over me that will save your life." The Liao Centurion, its faceplate locked down securely, turned to face Andrew. "I slew men with twice your skill on Solaris, Captain. Do you really want to die here and now?"

  You bastard! Andrew dropped his LRM sight on Justin's Centurion and answered with an LRM flight. Half the missiles blasted craters through the armor over Yen-lo-wang's right breast. Semi-molten
ceramic shards shooting away from the 'Mech painted glowing gold trails across Andrew's IR display while the wounds on the 'Mech burned like red-orange embers.

  The other five missiles wreathed the Centurion's head with a firestorm halo. Armor spun away through the night as the explosions staggered Yen-lo-wang. The 'Mech stumbled back into the lab, crushing a wall and shattering windows along the third floor. Andrew clearly recognized Justin's masterful hand on the controls as the Centurion rebounded off the building, dropped to one knee and steadied itself with left hand pressed into the ground.

  Justin's haunting laughter robbed Andrew of any exultation. "So the puppy has developed teeth. Very well, Redburn. Come on." Justin's voice dropped to an arctic whisper. "I've never felt stupidity is a reason to grant a foe mercy."

  Andrew ground his teeth together. How could I have thought of this man as a friend? Andrew set his 'Mech in motion, charging forward well inside of his LRM range. I want this fight to be down and dirty, not impersonal like a missile duel. Andrew impaled Yen-lo-wang's image on the autocannon's crosshairs, then tightened up on the trigger.

  The autocannon's stream of metal fury blasted into Yen-lo-wang just below the medium laser muzzle in the center of its chest. Armor flew like wood chips beneath the bite of an ax, and a white plume of heat jetted across Andrew's display. The Captain smiled broadly. Punched through and hit some engine shielding.

  Justin's laughter shifted to allow some grudging respect. "Damn, and me with a damaged cooling vest. Good, Andy, but not good enough. Good-bye."

  As Yen-lo-wang raised the muzzle of its autocannon toward him, Andrew's stomach boiled. Something about that 'Mech, some way he modified it on Solaris. No, no! It's got a Pontiac! The screaming whine of Yen-lo-wang's autocannon filled the night. Depleted uranium slugs hammered into the Centurion's right thigh. Crushed armor plates crumbled to dust with a grinding and crunching that sounded to Andrew like an animal gnawing on the limb. Andrew felt his 'Mech shudder as more shells shredded the thickly corded myomer muscles in the Centurion's thigh, then his heart sank.