Текст книги "Main Event"

Jeremiah Rose stopped to draw in a deep breath. The dawn breezes on Northwind had a scent all their own, one he had never forgotten in all the years away from his homeworld. The real thing was far better than any memory, but he had no time to tarry. Moving quickly Rose headed toward the customs building where his gear must first pass inspection before he would be free to enter the streets of Tara, capital of the planet.

Muscling his twin bags with practiced ease, Rose stepped lightly between and around the port workers as they hurried to and fro with their burdens. He trotted across the slightly damp tarmac and shouldered his way through the main entry. Startled custom agents in their regulation Stewart tartans stared at Rose as he pushed the unexpectedly light door open with a crash. Across the room a small man with service bars up his entire left arm turned to stare at Rose, while all around him the junior custom agents tried, and failed, not to show their amusement.

The hawk-faced old man, obviously the senior member of the staff on duty, motioned Rose toward his table with an evil leer. Rose had seen and worked with this petty-minded type before. King of this one shrall room, he was going to make sure Rose knew it. Rose's clumsy entrance had embarrassed him and now Rose would have to pay. All thoughts of a quick and easy entry into the city vanished as the man moved with deliberate slowness to examine Rose's belongings. For what seemed an eternity, he poked and prodded through Rose's cases, none of which contained anything unusual or even vaguely suspicious.

Rose was born and bred a warrior and his clothes reflected it. The warrior life was his heritage and, until recently, it had been his occupation. Returning to his homeworld, he believed it would be again. Like most soldiers, he traveled light. The three flight suits in the first case were identical to the one he wore. His single set of dress clothes was piled in a heap after the senior agent's search, but the mistreatment did not bother Rose at all. The clothes had been stored during the entire trip from Terra and they would continue to be packed away, in their current disarray, after the agent was finished. Shaving kit, underwear, socks, belts, and boots received the same treatment, winding up in the same tangled pile. Thirty minutes later the man moved to the second case. Around him the room filled with the passengers Rose had earlier outdistanced.

"So much for the first one, son. Now, what's in the second case?" The agent lifted the bag on end and attempted to work the double latches. Despite his best efforts, the case refused to open even though it was apparently unlocked. Rose smiled as the man looked up at him.

"Allow me." Rose set the case on its bottom and pushed open the two latches with his thumbs. Spinning the case around, he stepped back slightly. "It's keyed to open only on my thumbprints." The agent shot Rose an evil look. "Sorry," he added quickly.

Lifting the top of the custom case, the agent could not contain his surprise to see a single laser pistol with three energy clips. Without looking at Rose, the agent lifted the pistol out of the case.

"Fancy weapon you've got yourself, son. It's a little over-balanced, though."

Rose shrugged. The weapon was his remaining pride and joy. Custom-made for his large hands and long arms, it had more range and penetrating power than any laser pistol he had ever seen. It fired more like a rifle with a short grip.

"Why do you need a pistol like this?"

"I didn't know pistols were forbidden on Northwind," Rose said levelly.

"They're not. Not unless you look like trouble or have a criminal record."

"I assure you I am neither." Rose held out his open palms, smiling slightly. The agent seemed unconvinced.

"This is a MechWarrior's weapon, though I don't recognize the brand. You fancy yourself a Mech Warrior?"

Yes, Rose was a Mech Warrior, but one without a 'Mech, which put him among the ranks of the dispossessed. The agent's remark hit too close to home and he glared back at the small man.

"So you're a 'Mech jock." The man replaced the weapon in the case and closed the lid. "Let's see some papers."

Even in this modern age of computers and microprocessors, most people preferred to have the titles to their lands and valuable property on paper or on plastic. There was something solid about looking at the signatures and knowing the property was yours. In addition to the electronic back-up, many people liked to personally carry the legal titles to their property when relocating.

The customs agent was expecting Rose to show him the title to the 'Mech he assumed was on the DropShip. Rose reached into the inner pocket of his leather jacket and tossed some papers onto the gun case. The agent picked them up and quickly read through them.

"No 'Mech?"

Rose shook his head, unwilling to utter the words aloud.

"Dispossessed." The man's voice rose above the noise of the crowd. Heads turned, all eyes on Rose, who stood frozen. Had he been facing the crowd, he would have seen the mixture of pity, amusement, and scorn that rippled through the crowd. A Mech Warrior was a member of the elite fighting force that controlled the balance of power in the Inner Sphere. He enjoyed an elevated position in society, just as the knights of the Middle Ages were elevated above the people they protected. To lose one's BattleMech was the height of shame for a member of this warrior elite.

Behind him Rose heard the crowd murmur and knew that people were pointing. He regarded the customs agent with silent intensity. Though publicly shamed, the insult did not register on his face. The agent smiled and tossed the papers back to him.

"Welcome to Northwind and Tara, son. Enjoy your stay." Keeping his eyes on Rose, the man pushed the two cases down the short ramp and out of his way. "Next."

Rose sidestepped to the end of the ramp and rearranged his belongings into a loose order, then closed the case. Without looking back he walked down the short corridor and into the main terminal of the spaceport. Crowds of people milled near the doors, waiting for loved ones to finish with the customs procedures.

Pushing through the crowd Rose crossed to the far side of the huge room. Having been away for so long, he was not used to the clash of colors that was the cornerstone of Highlander apparel. Tartans of every shade swirled about him, some traditional and easily recognizable, others unfamiliar. As always, however, he also felt the unmistakable undercurrent of Northwind: the joy of living.

Of all the people and places Rose had seen, none could match the vigor of the Highlanders when it came to enjoying life. They seemed to relish everything it had to offer, the good with the bad. Ever since the Highlanders' return to Northwind when Rose was just a small boy, they had discovered new enthusiasm for old work. Twenty-five years had gone by and it was still the same.

Rose paused near the main doors of the terminal and drank in the mood of the spaceport. "Opening the soul," his mentor would have called it. Rose looked around once more at the scene, then went out through the heavy doors.

A long line of cars stood waiting in the circle drive just outside the terminal building. Approaching the first in line, Rose opened the rear door. The driver hopped off the hood and slid into the driver's seat just as Rose was closing the door behind him.

"The Fort, please."

The driver glanced over his shoulder and gave Rose a look of obvious confusion. When the man made no move to put the vehicle in motion, Rose returned the look.

"The Fort," he repeated. "I'm not some stupid tourist or dumb mercenary. Take me to the Fort, now."

Cowed by Rose's forcefulness, the driver faced front again and eased the car into traffic. Rose was grateful to be left alone with his thoughts during the brief trip to the Highlanders' Assembly Hall of Clan Elders, the chief government building on Tara. Set exactly in the center of the city, it was flanked by attendant buildings that supported the work that went on in the central building's hallowed halls. It had been called The Fort ever since the Highlanders had come back to Northwind in 3028. In that year the Highlander Clan elders had reached an agreement with the Federated Commonwealth in which the Northwind Highlanders renounced their allegiance to House Liao in return for being allowed to garrison their homeworld as part of the armed forces of the Federated Commonwealth.

The returning elders had declared that they would defend Northwind from the fortress of these walls against any and all who threatened. From the little Rose could remember, the speech had been a passionate one, but politics had mostly gone over his seven-year-old head.

Rose knew that the Highlander elders were meeting in full session today. The yearly event was a gathering of the elders of Tara and all the chiefs from the outlying provinces. When in session the High Assembly served as the main Highlander governing body.

The Assembly decided matters of planetary importance and considered proposals that would affect all the Highlanders and Northwind. Although powerful, the High Assembly was actually in session for only two to three weeks each year because most governmental matters could be handled and decided by the sub-assemblies that met year-round. Each sub-assembly was responsible for one aspect of Highlander life. The arts, science, medicine, education, and warfare, as well as dozens of other issues, were all directed by an individual governing assembly. The largest, and most prestigious, was the Assembly of Warriors, which controlled all aspects of the Highlanders' military. Composed of exactly one hundred proven Highlander soldiers, the Assembly of Warriors was the first to meet at High Assembly and the last to leave. In all ways the group was the cornerstone of Northwind.

The cab pulled up next to the curb, and Rose stepped out. He slid a fifty G-bill note through the driver's window and started up the stairs without waiting for the change.

Taking the steps two at a time, he only slowed his pace upon reaching the courtyard. The court marked the entry way into The Fort and protocol must be observed. Undue haste was definitely not seemly.

Silently sliding doors parted as Rose neared the entrance. He proceeded through into the foyer, heading straight for the main desk. Flanking the wooden desk were ceremonial guards, silent and steely-eyed. Ignoring them Rose spoke to the small woman behind the desk. Everyone who entered The Fort was required to register with the desk, but traffic was unusually light this early in the morning. Normally Rose would have had a long wait, but it looked as though he'd beaten the rush.

"Rose, Jeremiah. I'm here to speak before the Assembly of Warriors." Rose looked at a point above the woman's head, careful to keep his back straight and his eyes forward. Out the corner of his eye he could see the eyes of one of the guards reacting to his unexpected statement, but like Rose he kept his body perfectly still and his head straight.

"You are expected. The Assembly has already begun. You will wait until summoned," she said sternly.

"I have just arrived on Northwind and could not deposit my belongings." Rose stopped, knowing the simple statement would be enough. Within seconds a boy appeared with a plastic token. Rose handed him the bags, took the token in return, then went to the row of elevators lining the wall. Pressing the third button, he waited until one set of doors opened.

Once in the car he was again forced to wait until the car's automatic sensors decided that he was clear of the door and that no other passengers were entering. Then the doors closed with a soft whoosh and the car began to rise.

Rose glanced at his chronometer, recently adjusted for Northwind's current time, and waited. Seconds later the car stopped smoothly at the third floor, the doors sliding open with the same soft whoosh.

The corridor before him was bare and silent. Twin guards flanked the doors to his left, the only ones on the floor. Behind the massive oak frames he could just hear the sounds of the Assembly. Though the guards did not turn to look at him, Rose knew they could see him perfectly.

Quietly, he stepped off the elevator and went to sit on the single bench across from the Assembly Hall door. What had started six months ago with a request to speak before the Assembly of Warriors was finally coming to fruition. His numerous requests had initially received a poor response, but with persistence he had finally managed to win a place on the agenda. After almost three months aboard ship, he finally arrived by JumpShip at the nadir jump point for Northwind. The trip insystem had been aboard the DropShip Bristol .

Since that time Rose had been in daily communication with the office of the Assembly secretary. He had always known protocol was important, but he'd never realized how little he knew about it until the secretary uplinked a two-hundred-page document on the subject. If he was to speak successfully, Rose was expected to know, by heart, the procedures described on those pages and to behave accordingly. He'd studied them long and hard, enough that his confidence was high. Sitting on the solitary bench outside the Assembly of Warriors, he waited with high hopes.

Nine hours later he was still waiting, his confidence a shadow of its former self. The doors had opened several times during the day and the guards had been replaced twice, but Rose's name was not called. Soon the session would end for the day. Forcing himself to remain calm, he looked up slowly as the doors opened once more. Voices spilled into the hallway as a special guard stepped into the hall.

"Jeremiah Rose, the Assembly of Warriors would hear you speak." Rose stood and followed the man into the room. If his speech was successful, this would be the first step in a long road to come. With a slight sinking feeling, Rose noted that his stomach had decided not to accompany him into the room.

2

Tara, Northwind

23 April 3054

As Rose followed the man through the door it was almost like walking into another time. Unlike the rest of The Fort, the U-shaped Hall of Warriors was constructed of wood. The door guard stepped to the right to let Rose descend the shallow stone steps to the wooden speaker's platform. The lighting built into the walls and ceiling provided dim, but adequate illumination.

To his left and right, warriors sat on wooden benches behind solid oak tables equipped with computer terminals and sophisticated communication arrays. Many of the gathered soldiers wore traditional kilts and the heavy boots favored by MechWarriors and aerospace pilots. Dress uniforms were considered inappropriate for the Assembly of Warriors, whether for members or for speakers. All manner of knives were, on the other hand, openly displayed by many, and Rose knew that on more than one occasion the weapons had been used to resolve differences of opinion between speaker and audience.

Reaching the foot of the stairs he crossed the sod floor, with each step feeling the press of stares against his back. His every move was under constant scrutiny, the warriors searching for the slightest hint of weakness or indecision. Either one would heavily influence their voting on Rose's proposition.

He climbed the five wooden steps to the speaker's platform and looked at the three people seated there. In the center chair was Colonel Edward Senn. As the commander of the First Kearny Highlanders, the senior regiment of the Northwind Highlanders, Senn presided over the Assembly of Warriors when not on active duty. Rose acknowledged the man's presence with a quick meeting of the eyes, but did not allow his gaze to linger. Confidence, but not pride, was required, as many speakers discovered too late. To his right was Colonel James Cochraine, leader of the Sepond Kearny. Rose tried to acknowledge the giant, but Cochraine's attention was completely devoted to a cormnunications link built into his chair. Rose doubted the man even knew he was on the platform.

To Senn's left were two chairs, but only the far chair was occupied. The empty seat was normally occupied by the commander of MacCleod's Highlanders, but that unit had recently been redeployed. Although it was unusual for the chair to remain vacant during a High Assembly, MacCleod had refused to stay behind when his unit shipped out. It was typical for the man and the wild bunch he commanded to fly in the face of convention.

Sitting in the final chair was Andrea Stirling, commander of Stirling's Fusiliers. With one leg draped over the arm of her chair and her head resting firmly in her opposite hand, she was the image of boredom. She idly played with a strand of long dark hair and regarded Rose through heavy lashes. No wonder they called her Cat, thought Rose. Of the three Highlanders on the platform she had been a commander the shortest amount of time, but Rose judged her the most deadly. Her green eyes gave away her secret even in the dim light of the room.

At the top of the steps, Rose crossed the platform and stood directly in front of Colonel Senn. Before speaking he waited patiently for Senn to acknowledge him with a nod of the head.

"Greetings, Colonel Senn. Thank you for the opportunity to speak before this, assembly." Rose bowed slightly from the waist, careful to keep his eyes firmly on Senn.

Again Senn nodded. "It is our pleasure, Adept Rose, but I am told you no longer go by that title. Perhaps I should call you Jeremiah." Heads turned at the mention of Rose's former ComStar title, but he pressed ahead.

"As you wish, Colonel. My title matters little. Your consideration, however, means a great deal to me." Senn watched Rose calmly as he went through the traditional greeting. Ritual courtesy was expected and Rose was determined to live up to Highlander expectations.

"I bring a token of appreciation to thank you for your hospitality." Carefully, Rose reached into the left leg pocket of his jumpsuit, from which he removed a leather-wrapped bundle. With his left hand he presented it to Senn, who immediately began loosening the thongs that held the leather in place.

"I acquired this during a battle against the Smoke Jaguars. It is a simple item, but crafted with precision as befits a warrior." Senn unfolded the last leather flap and withdrew a boot knife. Patterned after the legendary skaen doo, the grip of the silver weapon was constructed of a dark cherry-colored wood Rose had not been able to identify despite repeated attempts. He suspected that the wood had not been seen in the Inner Sphere previous to the Clan invasion, making the weapon as unique as it was valuable, as beautiful as it was practical.

"Thank you, Jeremiah Rose. I accept your gift in the spirit it was given." Senn removed his own knife from the top of his heavy right boot and replaced it with the Clan version.

"Now, Mister Rose, I believe you wished to address this assembly."

"Indeed I do, Colonel." With a sudden turn, Rose faced the gathering. For the first time he noted the glass-enclosed gallery where sat the spectators of the Assembly. Hidden behind the darkened glass, hundreds watched the proceedings in silence. Rose felt the weight of their attention as he looked down at the assembled warriors.

With the formalities finished, they stared up at him expectantly. Private conversations began to fade away as Rose walked across the platform. He had hoped for a podium, yet such a prop would have been out of place here. The open stage left him no place to hide, which was just the way the Highlanders wanted it.

"I would speak to you of the Clans—the Ghost Bears, the Nova Cats, and the Smoke Jaguars. The Jade Falcons, the Steel Vipers, and the Wolves. Like many of you, I have fought against them and their high technology. I have stood against their OmniMechs and survived. I have seen the Clan invaders crushed on the battlefield, and watched their retreating DropShips light the night sky above our campfires." Murmurs broke out among the warriors as Rose spoke. He was asking them to believe quite a story. The Clans had rarely been beaten, and only twice had they ever retreated as Rose described.

"I speak, of course, of the battle of Tukayyid and ComStar's victory over the combined forces of the Clans." The murmurs grew louder. ComStar was still not held in high regard, despite the success of their military forces on Tukayyid and the resulting treaty with the Clans.

"Today, however, I speak of the future, not the past. Too long the Inner Sphere has allowed the Clans to dictate the ways of the war. We react to their attacks and are forced to play the defender. To that I say, no more. It is time to take the battle to the Clans. It is time to fight them on our own terms." A few warriors nodded, while others leaned forward as though to listen more closely. One warrior thumped on his wooden table, encouraging Rose to continue.

"I was at Tukayyid when the Com Guards defeated the Clans. It was a great victory for the Inner Sphere, but it was paid for at great price. Because of that battle the Clans have agreed not to press their attacks below the line of the planet Tukayyid. Yes, the invasion downward has been halted, but what about the planets to the right and left of the Clan advance? What of those planets that lie above Tukayyid, those worlds not covered by the treaty? Will the ravenous Clans allow the inhabitants of those planets to live in peace? You know they will not!"

More nods, a few more thumps on the wooden desks by other Highlanders. Rose began to pace the platform like a caged beast, his confidence growing, his voice pitched slightly louder. In his heart, however, Rose knew the warriors were not responding only to him. Like most warriors of the Inner Sphere, the Highlanders wanted to stop the Clans, political boundaries be damned. Mercenary units were especially vocal, and the Northwind Highlanders, despite their recent return to Davion space, were among the most outspoken.

"So, what do we do? While the politicians scramble for cover and the Great House leaders try to protect their dwindling empires, the Clans prepare to strike to their right and left into Commonwealth and Combine space.

"I know the Highlanders have a just and legal contract with House Davion. I also know the Highlanders will fight without equal while they fulfill the remainder of the contract. Highlander honor will not allow them to break that contract and do what their hearts cry out for them to do. The Highlanders must abide by the contract and coordinate the use of their battalions with the forces of the Federated Commonwealth." Rose paused and looked at the empty chair of Colonel MacCleod. The move was not lost on the Assembly.

"It doesn't have to be that way." Rose waited for his words to fully sink in. He walked back to the center of the platform in silence as his audience waited.

"My plan, like all good military plans, is a simple one. The Highlanders have contracted to provide four regiments for the defense of the Federated Commonwealth. There is no contract, however, that prevents the Highlanders from forming an independent unit that might further hire itself out to take the fight back to the Clans." A few shouts of agreement rang out, mostly from the younger warriors.

"The purpose of my address to you is a simple one. I ask simply that the Northwind Highlanders allow me to recruit warriors and technicians to be hired out solely to fight the Clans.

"Further, I ask that the Northwind Highlanders allow me to purchase any 'Mechs not necessary to fulfill the Davion contract in order to equip warriors capable of fighting the Clans but who lack the 'Mechs to do so.

"Finally, I ask that the Northwind Highlanders allow me to use their name for this new unit, which I would call the Northwind Black Watch." One warrior jumped to his feet and raised a fist in the air. More thumps and shouts of agreement rose up here and there. Rose turned toward the Northwind commanders and saw that his plea had also touched them. Colonel Stirling was sitting upright in her chair. Senn and Cochraine gazed at him with bright eyes, although their bodies did not show the tension of their junior counterpart. Rose nodded once to Senn and moved to the right side of the platform.

Senn waited for complete silence before speaking. He held out a hand to Rose and gazed around at the assembly.

"Jeremiah Rose has spoken eloquently on a subject near to the hearts of all warriors assembled in this hall. Before we cast judgment on his petition, I call upon any who would speak against him."

Rose had known this was a required part of the procedure, but he did not expect any serious opposition to his speech. Senn was right, the Highlanders had become very vocal about taking the fight back to the Clans in recent months and Rose was offering the chance to do just that. He was surprised when a strong voice called out from the back of the room.

"Colonel Senn, I too would address the Assembly of Warriors." Heads turned to face the old man walking down the center aisle with the aid of a brass-tipped cane. In the dim light Rose could not make out who he was, but warriors near the aisle bowed their heads in silent respect as the man passed. Whoever he was, the man was obviously well-regarded by these warriors, despite his advanced years.