Malicious intent

  "Then let your mind be at ease." Marthe opened her arms in a cruciform gesture of innocence. "Those who would have repudiated the truce for personal gain have been destroyed by their own dreams. I have no intention of taking my force beyond the truce line at this time."

  "You honor those who fought and died on Tukayyid."

  "I honor the warrior who won at Tukayyid." Her hands came together, pressed flat, palm to palm. "There are none among the Clans who will declare the truce void because Terra has changed hands. As you said, the truce was won on Tukayyid. It cannot be lost on Terra."

  "Or Coventry."

  "All that can be lost on Coventry is glory and life."

  The Precentor Martial nodded and his image shrank slightly as he glanced to his right. "Khan Marthe Pryde, I would present to you Prince Victor Ian Steiner-Davion. He is my second in command and will serve as my spokesman in our negotiations."

  Marthe turned and waved Rosendo forward. "And this is my second in command, Galaxy Commander Rosendo Hazen. He has been the architect of most of the fighting here."

  The man the Precentor Martial introduced impressed Rosendo immediately because of the steely strength in his eyes. Few people could project their personality through holographic imaging, but this Victor Davion did. The Falcon sensed depths in the man that hinted at what he had to be as a leader.

  Victor's face became an unfathomable mask. "Khan Marthe Pryde, I am Victor Ian Steiner-Davion. I am coming to Coventry with a task force to contest your possession of the planet. At this time I know I am supposed to ask you with what forces will you defend the planet, but I shall not. Instead I invoke the right of safcon."

  Rosendo tried to smother his surprise, but he was certain Victor caught it in the way the corners of his eyes tightened. He invokes safcon, which means he has been schooled in our ways. I do not think Marthe anticipated this turn of events.

  Marthe Pryde bowed slightly toward Victor's floating image. "Consider it granted, Prince Victor, well bargained and done. I shall assume you wish to ground at Leitnerton to relieve your forces there?"

  "Provided they will still be there in two days, yes."

  "They will be. Galaxy Commander Hazen will pull our lines back to Port St. William and give you ample room to ground. The troops of yours who remain are valiant and, I trust, will be allowed to continue to fight against us, quiaff?"

  "I would not deny them that. I will inform them of your request."

  "Thank you." Marthe half-turned from the two busts, then came back around. "Oh, and you should know that I will defend the world with everything I have. This is what your people did, and to do less would dishonor them."

  "I understand." Rosendo thought he heard a bit of surprise in Victor's voice.

  "Very well. I will have force reports available for you when you ground."

  "And we shall communicate same to you at that time." Victor glanced away for a moment, then looked back at Marthe. "Shall we set the sixteenth as the day we meet to conduct formal negotiations, quiaff? Would Whitting be acceptable as a location?"

  Marthe's voice rose, betraying surprise and curiosity. "You wish to negotiate in person?"

  "I wish to get the full measure of you, Khan Pryde, and meeting you in person is the only way that can be accomplished." The Prince shrugged. "I will understand if you do not think this desirable."

  "Whitting, on the sixteenth, then." The Khan nodded graciously. "Good grounding to you."

  The two busts blinked out as Marthe severed the connection. "What did you think, Commander Rosendo?"

  "They know something about us. That could make them more difficult to defeat."

  "Influence of the Wolves, I have no doubt. When he looked away it was to see what his advisor had to say."

  Rosendo nodded. "Khan Phelan Ward was related to this Victor."

  "Doubtless that explains it." Marthe's eyes sharpened. "The part about meeting at Whitting was his own idea, however. He thinks I will underestimate him after I meet him."

  "It is possible, Khan Marthe, but it was good that you accepted." Rosendo's face darkened. "I do question the wisdom of your declaration of what we will use to defend the planet. Since you granted them safcon you were not required to give them that information."

  "I know." Marthe smiled carefully. "I did so to confuse them. By telling them I would defend the world with everything after telling them we would pull back to Port St. William, I have given them the impression I intend to keep the planet. They will think I want to do this because it denies them the 'Mech production plants. They will begin to plan for battles over possession of the factories. And while they are doing that, we will be making other plans of our own."

  "You say that without knowing what forces they bring against us."

  "True, Rosendo, very true." Marthe Pryde nodded slowly. "It is up to us, then, to make certain the same stone that hones our Falcons' claws will not dull them. Such glorious work is what gives birth to warriors and makes their lives worth living."

  39

  Leitnerton Coventry

  Coventry Province, Lyran Alliance

  15 June 3058

  Doc Trevena wasn't particularly surprised to hear the sound of footsteps on the roof behind him. Everyone in the Titans had become used to finding him up there staring out toward Whitting and beyond to Port St. William. Most often Shelly Brubaker joined him there on the "Captain's Walk," but she hadn't been his only visitor. And with the rest of the Dragoons here, her visits have been far too infrequent.

  He glanced back over his shoulder, then spun around and snapped to attention. "Highness, I didn't ..."

  Victor returned the salute, then gently thrust his chin out toward the view. "Hell of a vantage point for watching everything."

  "Yes, sir." Doc's heart hammered in his chest. "Is there something I can do for you, Highness?"

  The Prince thought for a second, then nodded. "I apologize for interrupting your solitude. I noticed you up here yesterday. When I asked who you were, I learned the whole story of how you've been able to run these Falcons around in circles. I thought I might avail myself of your insight. Does such wisdom come from your time spent up here?"

  "I don't really know, sir." Doc was suddenly feeling awkward and tongue-tied. "What I mean, sir, is that I've got no special abilities."

  "Oh?" Victor looked him up and down. "You managed to take a company staffed with unskilled but eager troops and build them into a unit that's lost little more than armor and the odd actuator in three months of operations against a Clan enemy."

  "When you put it that way, sir, it sounds like more than it is."

  "Don't devalue it, Hauptmann Trevena."

  "No, sir." Doc smiled slowly. "I don't want to devalue it, but I don't want to elevate my role, either. The Titans, they're full of heart. All I did was teach them to hit while not getting hit."

  "You also planned and carried out the Whitting raid."

  Doc shook his head. "The Dragoons carried the battle to them, Highness. We just got to Whitting and stole some data. It was a last act of defiance."

  "But it means the last battle fought on Coventry was a Clan defeat."

  "That's because they decided not to push things because you were coming in." Doc looked down at the Prince. "Begging your pardon, sir, but I'd imagine you've got better things to be doing than standing here making me feel good about the most lightweight unit on the planet."

  "Perhaps." Victor's breath hissed in through clenched teeth. "The Falcons sent us data on their forces on Coventry. You won't be surprised to hear that it corresponds to the data you extracted during the Whitting raid. This presents me with a problem."

  "Yes, sir."

  The Prince frowned. "The information that convinced me to come here indicated the Jade Falcons had four Galaxies operating on Coventry. Because of my source, I assumed there might be as many as six."

  Doc folded his arms across his chest. "We got information out to Tharkad that we'd seen elements of a dozen different Galaxi
es here. You should have known ..." He fell silent for a moment as the implications of the Prince's not knowing penetrated his brain. "I guess you and your sister aren't exactly speaking to each other right now?"

  "No, we're not." The Prince smiled ruefully. "Do you and your siblings get along?"

  "Very well, but I've got an ex-wife, so I can relate."

  "I suppose you can." Victor looked Doc over again. "Your people down below called you 'Doc' May I?"

  "As you wish, Highness."

  Victor let out a little laugh. "For right now, why don't we make it Victor because what I want from you, Doc, doesn't involve titles or ranks or any of that. I want an honest opinion and direct answers. This is one soldier to another, nothing more. Don't tell me what you think I want to hear, tell me what you know and what you think. Got it?"

  "Yes, sir."

  The Prince raised an eyebrow at him.

  Doc winced. "Sure I can't just go recon Port St. William for you ... Victor?"

  "Later, perhaps." Victor squatted down and plucked a rock from the building's tarred roof and launched it into the night. "Give me an assessment of the Clan forces here."

  Doc exhaled heavily. "We've seen a lot of people and a lot of different styles of fighting. The Falcons have made some pretty basic mistakes. Everything I've gleaned makes me think they're desperate and sweeping up anything they can find who can fit in a cockpit."

  The Prince's brows furrowed. "I've heard that assessment from others, but I'm reluctant to believe it."

  Doc raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

  "You're the first person who asked for my reasons. That's good." Victor smiled briefly. "Ragnar has taken a look at the numbers you've put together and a look at the prisoners who were taken. He's even reviewed some of the holographed interrogations. He suggests that if the Falcons were using a mass draft, you'd have a wider range of ages among the prisoners. Arimas, for example, is of an age to already be serving in a line unit but he shows no signs of having tested for such a position."

  "It did seem odd that someone like him wouldn't already have been serving. What does Ragnar think the Falcons are up to?"

  "He's got no solid idea, but the Clans have always had rumors about members of the scientist caste going rogue and producing their own cadre of warriors to oppose or forestall action by the warriors of their Clan. If such a clandestine breeding program had been begun two decades ago, you'd have a crop of candidates for the units we've been fighting here."

  I should have seen it. Doc slowly shook his head. "I was seeing green troops and assuming their lack of experience was because they were as ragtag a band of fighters as the Titans. A crop of kids would be just as inexperienced. The Falcons bring them here, train them against us, and ship them home to fill the void left by their war with the Wolves. We're fighting for our lives and they're looking for playmates."

  "We don't know that for sure, so don't be so hard on yourself, Doc. It's just a guess."

  "But it feels like a good one. It explains a lot."

  The Prince nodded. "Your data and Khan Pryde's reports indicate they've got eight Galaxies on this rock. Counting in what we have left here in Leitnerton, our force is at thirteen regiments. Figuring in all the adjustment factors for unit makeup and condition, we're at rough parity with the Falcons."

  Doc stared out over the town. "Leitnerton is defensible. If they come, we can hurt them."

  "Agreed. The problem is that we're going to have to be the aggressor here."

  "Like you said, we've got a winning streak going."

  "True, but I need to figure out the way to extend it." Victor reached a hand out and rested it on Doc's shoulder. "You've been here since they got here. You've fought against some of their best units and some of their most green. You were there when the Waco Rangers were wiped out."

  "I was."

  "So what I want to know is this, Doc: do the troops the Falcons have here possess the belly for a real fight?"

  "They sure as hell shoot straight and generally hit what they aim at." Doc arced his own rock out into the darkness and heard it clatter into the street below. "I think the Falcons will give us the best they've got. The Titans managed to surprise them a couple of times, but that's because we were running up against green kids. You can bet the next troops we face will have vets stiffening the lines and directing actions. They'll be full of fight, Victor, no doubt about it."

  "The question still remains, though, 'why?' " Victor pointed off southwest toward where the glow from Port St. William lit the horizon. "Fighting to train troops makes sense, but only because they were in control of things and could call an end to the fighting when too many of their people were getting hurt. I can also understand trying to prove your doctrine works, but simulator exercises could do that. If I were going to attack an enemy to hone my troops, I think I'd choose a place I could support better, one that was closer to my home so logistics wouldn't be that much of a problem."

  "Like a world on the border."

  "Exactly."

  Doc smiled as the last piece of the puzzle slipped into place for him. "They came here because they knew we'd defend it."

  "What?"

  "Coventry is just like the smelter my battalion was sent out to guard when the Clans first arrived. We set up to defend it, but the only interest the Clans had in it was the fact that we were there. They wanted to train against troops. Out on the border they're not going to run into the Dragoons or the Eridani Light Horse. Only if their threat appeared credible and real to a place like Tharkad would we toss our best units at them."

  "So it was never about hitting Tharkad. They just wanted to face off with the best we have." The Prince picked up another rock and bounced it from hand to hand. "You can't hunt tigers unless you go where the tigers live."

  "And these are some tiger hunters, Victor." Doc gave the Prince a frank stare. "They're good and they get better. The eight Galaxies they've got here are going to be very sharp and ready to do whatever they must to beat you. They'll come at you from every direction. They might be a bit rigid in how they choose their targets, but I've always thought someone who lets you know he's going to knock you down before he does it has a lot of steel in his spine and courage to burn."

  "Not always the expedient way to wage war, but certainly a bold way."

  "Bold and proud, that's the earmark of the Falcons." Doc shrugged. "I don't really think there's anything else I can offer you by way of information. Don't know if I've been any help ..."

  The Prince nodded, then patted Doc on the shoulder. "You've given me more to think about, thanks. Plenty of tough decisions to make."

  Doc brushed his hands off on his pants. "Figuring out how folks are going to die isn't supposed to come easy."

  "True enough, Doc." Victor offered Doc his hand. "I'll have to see what I can do so it doesn't come to that."

  * * *

  Turkina Keshik Headquarters, Port St. William

  Coventry

  Rosendo Hazen would have preferred something other than anger on Marthe Pryde's face when she summoned him. He had been reviewing the datafiles sent by the ComStar force and found them disturbing in what they predicted for the future. Facing the Falcons would be the rest of the Dragoons and the Kell Hounds. Those two mercenary units and the Genyosha had been critical in defeating the Smoke Jaguars and Nova Cats in their bid to take Luthien, the capital of the Draconis Combine, seven years previous. To them were added a ComStar unit and seasoned regiments from each of the Inner Sphere's Great Houses.

  Save increasing the size of the force, it is difficult to imagine the Inner Sphere fielding a more formidable army. It was clear to Rosendo that the Inner Sphere task force would give as good as it got. The two sides were close to evenly matched, which meant whetstone and knife would grind each other away to nothingness.

  "You sent for me, my Khan?"

  "Yes, Commander." Marthe's blue eyes sparked with fury. "We are stuck fast on the horns of a dilemma and I fear there is nothing we can do to fre
e ourselves."

  "How so? The Inner Sphere force will present us a good fight, but we can still defeat them."

  "Yes, and bleed ourselves white doing so, quiaff?" She swiveled her chair around and picked a holodisk up off the desk. "I just received this."

  Marthe shoved it into the appropriate slot on her desktop and a full-sized holograph of Vlad Ward appeared in front of her desk, presenting his profile to Rosendo. The figure bowed toward the projector that was giving it form—looking somewhat silly in doing so—but even that did nothing to relieve the leaden sensation in the pit of Rosendo's stomach.

  "Greetings to you, Khan Marthe Pryde. I wish you well on the impending fight with the force the Inner Sphere has pulled together to oppose you. You have my admiration on striking so deeply into the Lyran Alliance. I am certain those you brought with you and trained there have learned enough to become valiant warriors, true heirs to the proud Jade Falcon traditions that set your Clan apart from the rest. You are to be congratulated on this strategy, and so I do congratulate you."

  Vlad's hands opened. "Of course, you could never believe that I, the Wolf who slew a Falcon ilKhan, would stand in awe of your accomplishments. Words are simple, but actions—such as those you have undertaken here—are the true measure of intent. Therefore, so you will believe me, I will tell you that I look forward to meeting and testing the troops you have so recently trained. Appended to this message is a list of my current troop dispositions. You may be uncomfortable with them, but this is a matter that can best be discussed across a battlefield."

  The Wolf's image exploded into a torrent of data. Marthe slapped a button on her desk, killing the glowing text. "Do you see?"

  Rosendo's mouth tasted of decay. "He threatens some of our worlds ..."

  "Six. They were all hit hard by the Wolves previously and several have only recently been pacified again. He would cut our occupation zone in half."