Malicious intent

  "Except as a symbol, not very valuable at all." Lisa paused, then shrugged. "That's not to underestimate its importance as a symbol, but the Clans have been intent on taking Terra from the first. We know that if we can't stop them here on Tukayyid, we can't stop them on Terra. We had to garrison Terra because of the Clan threat, but now Word of Blake can take that duty."

  Sharilar Mori set her spoon down. "The symbolic importance of Terra is incalculable. Because ComStar owned Terra the Clans accepted our offer to use Tukayyid as a site for a proxy battle. Does losing Terra mean we are no longer seen as a legitimate force in the minds of the Clans? Does Terra's loss mean the truce is null and void?"

  A good question. "Were Ulric Kerensky still ilKhan of the Clans I would answer your legitimacy question with an unqualified no."

  "And now that he's gone?"

  Focht nodded slowly. "It's still a no, but largely because of a quirk in the makeup of Clan society. The warrior caste is at the apex of their system. I suspect they viewed Myndo Waterly as someone of a slightly lower caste—perhaps even as low as a member of their merchant caste. But the truce was negotiated with me, and that's why it held, despite her treachery. The agreement between warriors was far stronger than her attempt to undermine it."

  Lisa looked over at him. "Then you think the fact that the Com Guards are still a force to reckon with means the Clans will respect the truce."

  "They will for as long as they see us as a military force worthy of respect. The loss of Terra may begin to erode some of that respect. As we have no force positioned above the truce line, the Clans cannot test themselves against us. If we did, and they attacked and we defeated them, such a defeat would go a long way to reinforce our legitimacy."

  The Primus nodded. "Perhaps you should arrange an expedition across the truce line. You could strike at the Wolves. Their weakness would guarantee a victory."

  "Not guarantee, but it would weight things heavily in our favor."

  Lisa winced. "Or convince the Clans we're hiding our own weakness by attacking their weakest Clan."

  "True. And if a Clan that weak were to defeat us, everything would unravel." The Precentor Martial again dipped his spoon into his steaming bowl. "We do need to do something, but it has to be the right thing."

  "What do we do now, then, Anastasius? Nothing?"

  "Not nothing, Primus." He smiled and nodded to Lisa. "We do the hardest thing a soldier can do—we wait until there comes a time when we must fight."

  * * *

  Turkina Keshik Headquarters, Port St. William Coventry

  Coventry Province, Lyran Alliance

  Galaxy Commander Rosendo Hazen stepped inside the doorway of Khan Marthe Pryde's office and snapped to attention. "Reporting as ordered, my Khan."

  Marthe returned his salute. "You're prompt, Commander. That much at least can be said in your favor."

  "I follow orders, my Khan."

  "Do you?" She plucked a holodisk from the metal desk behind her and held it up. "Your report indicates that a significant number of the Tenth Skye Rangers' First Battalion escaped your force."

  "Permission to speak frankly, my Khan." He let an edge creep into his voice because he was too tired and sore to put up with being reprimanded for events beyond his control.

  Marthe stared at him without a shred of mercy in her blue eyes. "So granted, but do not waste my time with excuses."

  "I have no intention of doing that, Khan Pryde." He watched her, knowing that their bloodlines had often been rivals within Clan Jade Falcon. He despised the Prydes for their height and slenderness, just as she despised him for his smaller, stockier build. While their Bloodname Houses bred Prydes and Hazens for divergent physical characteristics, it was with the same intention of breeding aggressive and resourceful offspring.

  "My Khan, I did not think the purpose of this exercise was to kill our warriors."

  "You belabor the obvious."

  "And you overlook the obvious." Rosendo pushed one hand back through his hair, which was short and almost white-blond. "The commander of the First Battalion is very sharp. He is working with forces that, according to the records your people recovered here, are all substandard. Other information you gave me suggested that this commander is even a drunkard, and if this is true, I think fighting him sober would be a fascinating experience."

  "You exaggerate ... you Hazens always do."

  "We do not have among our number a legend like Aidan Pryde, so we are forced to compensate."

  Marthe's expression sharpened, but he saw a trace of amusement tug at the corners of her eyes. "You should compensate by destroying your foes."

  "I agree, and I will, but not yet. The Clusters I sent against this Kommandant Sarz learned a great deal. They suffered very few casualties, but inflicted few as well. They learned that maneuvering and position can be as valuable as tenacity and a bellicose attitude. Such were the lessons taught but not learned at Tukayyid."

  Marthe leaned back against the desk and crossed her long legs. "The lesson your people will remember is that their quarry escaped."

  "Hardly escaped, my Khan." Rosendo clasped his hands together at the small of his back. "They fled into a complex of mining tunnels and caverns east of here. There are a limited number of places for them to come out. I have initiated scouting operations that will help spot them when they do emerge. My Clusters are already preparing to respond quickly to the threat and eliminate it."

  "Good. For all intents and purposes, resistance is ended here on Coventry."

  "You eliminated all the forces here in Port St. William?"

  The scowl that knitted her brows vanished quickly, but Rosendo caught it nontheless. "The Inner Sphere forces are not complete dullards, Commander Hazen. Elements of the Militia and Tenth Skye Rangers broke out of our perimeter. According to the records we have recovered, they have no stores of weaponry or munitions, so we will wear them down."

  Rosendo nodded and kept his expression serious. "I am pleased to see you found a way to teach your people the same lessons I taught mine."

  "Indeed."

  "So, how long before the Lyran Alliance sends more troops?"

  Khan Marthe Pryde shook her head. "I have no way of knowing. I assumed they would move faster to intercept us."

  "Were they worthy of possessing the worlds they claim, we would have ample enemies here." He shrugged. "You should have issued a formal challenge to some of their better units. That way we would be killing warriors, not killing time."

  "I am content to let them choose which units to send here, Commander." Marthe smiled easily. "We are at the truce line. They know they must stop us here, or the war will begin anew and they will have to face all the Clans. Their troops are doubtless already on the way—and they will be some of their best units, too. We break them, and in doing so, break the spirit of the Lyran Alliance. And once we have done that, none will doubt the Jade Falcons, nor will they prevent us from taking whatever we desire."

  28

  Cross-Divide Mountains Coventry

  Coventry Province, Lyran Alliance

  5 April 3058

  This had better work. Doc glanced at the computer time-counter in the lower corner of his holographic targeting display. It showed the time as 1459 hours. Which means they ought to be coming along very soon now.

  In the weeks since his people had become moles, Doc had learned to respect the speed and efficiency of the Falcons. The tunnels and caverns ran for a length of 160 or so kilometers beneath the Cross-Divides, and possessed enough side passages and chambers that at times he half-expected to find a minotaur come wandering through the labyrinth. Tunnels to the outside were rare, however, and the Jade Falcons had spotted all but a half-dozen of them. At these they had set up seismic monitoring stations that reported the heavy footfalls of 'Mechs in the area.

  The Falcons had also set up a number of firebases about an hour out from the most distant of the monitoring stations, each base manned by a Star of 'Mech troops. When Doc sent out re
con patrols the Clanners responded quickly, but so far the only combat had consisted of challenges and insults hurled back and forth over the radio as his people ran away.

  Once Doc discovered the seismic monitoring stations, he decided to use them against the Falcons. Every day at precisely 1600 hours, for a duration of fifteen minutes, he had a tech take the seismic monitors offline. They simply reported no activity for that time. Using an unmonitored exit, a recon lance would slip out and move around until it was spotted, then it would return to the tunnels through an entrance that had been monitored.

  While Coventry was not a seismically active planet, the Jade Falcons were using devices sensitive enough to pick up the footfalls of a tech approaching them. A total lack of activity for fifteen minutes was as significant a trace as having 'Mechs stomping a series of spikes into the data. The Falcons began to react to the lack of data and the Rangers' very predictable routine of sending a patrol out in the middle of the afternoon.

  What the Clan commanders really couldn't know was that the seismic monitors, which had formerly been used to monitor the progress of borer 'Mechs underground, were programmable. Because they were intended for use in tracking the tunnel-makers' progress, the devices had a buffer that allowed for the storage of sample traces from other equipment and operations. Undesired traces were loaded into the monitors and when they detected one of these, that data was filtered out and discarded. While the monitors were offline, Andy Bick and a couple of techs loaded in traces for the non-recon lance 'Mechs still in the force, rendering them seismically invisible as far as the monitors were concerned.

  Doc took the ten most combat-worthy of the heavier 'Mechs available and split them evenly into two lances of five 'Mechs each, modeling the organizational units used by the Clans. Then they set out on what they dubbed The Attack of the Mole-people, arriving unmolested at the most logical ambush point along the monitored route out of the mountains. The Rangers arrived two hours before the monitor would be shut down because Doc was expecting the Falcons to advance and prepare their own ambush. While his 'Mechs waited, the lighter recon company left the mountains through an unmonitored opening and got ready for their own mission.

  The Clanners did not disappoint Doc, a fact that both scared and thrilled him. For once, in the game of "Do they know that I know that they know ..." we 've come out ahead. We have to hurt them.

  The Clan Star came up over the hill and across the boulder-strewn incline in good order. Two Vixens guarded the flanks, while a pair of Peregrines held the point and back. The four light 'Mechs were centered on a medium-weight Goshawk. All five 'Mechs looked and moved like human beings in armor. The mottled green and black paint scheme contrasted sharply with the red rocks and clumps of the sparse yellow grass that grew on the plain.

  Just a little bit further. Doc dropped his hands onto the joysticks for his targeting system. He'd assigned himself the task of firing the first shot, though all the other 'Mechs had their targets assigned to them. Once he fired, they would follow suit, and even though it was unlikely they'd take down all the Falcon 'Mechs in the first volley, they did expect to do some serious damage.

  The dot in the center of his cross hairs glowed red, and Doc hit the triggers for his half-dozen pulse lasers. The laser fire hit the Goshawk solidly, liquefying armor on the 'Mech's right flank and over its heart. The lasers also burned two-thirds of the armor from the 'Mech's left arm and bubbled armor on its left thigh. One laser's energy darts played over the Goshawk's small head, sending molten armor flooding down over the 'Mech's shoulders and chest.

  The rest of the Ranger strike force opened up with all the weaponry they could bring on-line without frying their 'Mech's circuitry. In a flash of red and green laser beams, a Phoenix Hawk and the first of the Rangers' two Ostsols nailed the first Clan Vixen. The lasers vaporized most of the armor on the left side of the 'Mech's protruding chest, then burned through the left arm's protection. Corded myomer fibers snapped, their smoking ends whipping furiously through the air as the beams filled the ferrotitanium bones of the arm with fire. They flashed white, then evaporated.

  The other Ostsol hit the second Vixen with both of its large pulse lasers. The green beams sizzled into the 'Mech's heart, stripping away every bit of its protection. Doc's old Centurion, piloted by Tony Wells, blasted through the cloud of vapor armor with the autocannon mounted in its right arm. The depleted-uranium slugs ground through the internal supports in the 'Mech's chest, crushing the gyroscopes and shredding the fusion engine that powered the 'Mech. The Vixen collapsed in a heap. Then the cockpit faceplate exploded, and the pilot shot skyward in his ejection seat.

  "Payback is grand!" Tony shouted over the radio.

  The unit's Vindicator hit the Goshawk with its particle projection cannon and a pulse laser. The PPCs cerulean beam stabbed into the Falcon 'Mech's right leg, plowing a molten furrow through the armor on the thigh. The pulse laser's ruby thorns tore at the armor on the Goshawk's right arm, but failed to penetrate it.

  The Rangers' only barrel-chested Ostroc used one of its large lasers to strip all but the last bit of armor from the first Peregrine's right arm. The Ostroc's other large laser combined with fire from the Ranger Enforcer's large laser to disintegrate all the armor over the center of the Peregrine's chest and melt some of the internal supports found there. Then the Enforcer launched an autocannon shot, scouring the armor from the left side of the Peregrine's chest and leaving the 'Mech even more vulnerable to a second strike.

  The final Peregrine fell prey to the Rangers' Rifleman and to the Archer Sharon Dome piloted. Though normally considered a missile boat, the Archer became a deadly infighter with Sharon at the controls. The two medium lasers she fired from her 'Mech's forward arc converged and drilled through the Peregrine's chest. Black smoke began to pour out, and the 'Mech wavered, telling Doc that Sharon's beams had cooked one gyro and had probably hit the 'Mech's engine. The Rifleman only hit with half its weaponry, but the large laser burned most of the armor from the Peregrine's left arm while the medium laser slagged half the armor on the left side of its chest.

  Doc kept his cross hairs on the Goshawk. He hit it again with a full salvo of pulse laser fire. The scarlet needles burst through the armor on the 'Mech's left arm, eliminating the last of the nearly exhausted armor and nibbling away at the artificial bones and muscle that made the arm work. Other laser fire scorched armor on the Goshawk's torso, left leg, and right arm, leaving its ferro-fibrous flesh pitted and smoking.

  The Goshawk struck back, but did not shoot at the Penetrator, choosing the Vindicator instead as Ellis angled for a better shot at the Clanner. The Goshawk's large pulse laser spat out a stream of green darts that ripped into the Vindicator's armor from left wrist to shoulder. The trio of medium pulse lasers struck the Vindicator in the chest, left flank, and leg, in seconds evaporating a ton and a half of armor that was worth its weight in platinum to the Rangers.

  The Vindicator's return fire sliced a blue bolt of artificial lightning into the cratered armor of the Goshawk's right leg. The pulse laser's coruscating needles picked away at the leg, freeing it of the last of its armor shell. More important, though, the sudden loss of so much armor shifted the 'Mech's balance point and the pilot lost control. Like an unsteady child on wet ice, the Goshawk lost its footing and went down.

  The Centurion and Ostsol that had disabled the second Vixen shifted their fire to the second Peregrine while the other teams maintained their original assignments. Laser beams crisscrossed the battlefield. One Peregrine spun down hard to the ground while the remains of its arms whirled off through air. The other Peregrine hit Bobbi Spengler's Rifleman with two pulse laser blasts and a large pulse laser shot. The fire sliced through the armor on Spengler's right flank and flensed most of the armor off the 'Mech's midline. The one-armed Vixen went down, but not before its large pulse laser pumped green needles into the right-arm armor of Bell's Enforcer.

  The return fire of the severely damaged Clan 'Mechs had done little m
ore than melt armor on Doc's people, and his heart soared in elation. He wanted to shout with joy as the Goshawk fell, but a green light flicked on in his cockpit. Beneath his position, the anti-missile system built into the Penetrator began to power up.

  What? Why? No one launched missiles! Doc punched his scanner over into magres mode, and the screen filled with a legion of rising missile traces. "Incoming from over the hill!"

  The flights of long-range missiles arced up behind the Falcon 'Mech and created a fiery maelstrom on the incline and into the gap where the Rangers had taken up their positions. Doc watched a wave of explosions wash up and over his 'Mech. Kevin Smith's Ostsol staggered as missiles blasted the 'Mech's left arm clean off. The other Ostsol fared slightly better, losing all the armor of its left arm, but retaining the fire-blackened limb.

  A quintet of missiles slammed into the head of the unit's Phoenix Hawk, but Brenda Pasek somehow managed to keep the 'Mech upright. Doc's Penetrator shuddered as missiles hammered its left hip, but he successfully fought against gravity and kept the 'Mech on its broad feet. The rest of the Ranger 'Mechs took damage and lost precious armor, but the missiles brought none of them down.

  What surprised Doc about the missile attack was that the Jade Falcon 'Mechs took hits as well. Explosions bounced broken 'Mechs, tossing them rag-doll limp into the air before they crashed back down to the ground. Doc couldn't see what had happened to the pilot who'd previously punched out, but as the dust began to settle and the smoke thinned he saw two more pilots eject from their 'Mechs.

  They must have expected us to close with them. That's the only reason they'd call fire in on their own position. Doc keyed his radio. "Pull back, Rangers. There's nothing left here for us."

  "Roger that, Doc." The frustration Doc had grown used to hearing in Tony's voice had vanished. "We taught them they can't take us for granted."