Текст книги "Lost Destiny"

Автор книги: Michael A. Stackpole

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"The point is well-taken, Precentor Martial." Ulric again stroked his goatee, seeming more at ease than Focht would have desired. "And so, then, what force will you use to defend this planet?"

Focht touched one of the icons below the image of Tukayyid. It opened yet another window and this one remained black within the neon green border defining it. The Precentor Martial then reached up to a world firmly in the Wolf Clan Occupation Zone. "From Rasalhague I bring the 278th Division, under the command of Precentor IV Byron Koselka." As the Rasalhague window opened, Focht plucked from it the icon representing that Com Guard unit and threw it down toward Tukayyid.

It streaked like a comet through the artificial universe, then appeared in the empty window. Another icon followed it and another as Focht stripped all the troops from Com-Star's Asta Theatre. From there he worked into the Federated Commonwealth and pulled troops from the Jade Falcon Occupation Zone. Continuing counterclockwise, the Precentor Martial sent every Com Guard Division spiraling in toward Tukayyid.

When he had finished, he studied the seventy-two unit designators he had consigned to Tukayyid. "The data I have given you details the units selected, giving you a breakdown of their histories and the records of the men who make them up."

"Save your own record, Precentor Martial?"

Focht's head came up at the ilKhan's question. "The reason I provide you the records for my men is because our units have seen no real combat, yet to treat them as green troops would be a mistake. In the interest of clarity, I will provide you the record of my service since becoming the Precentor Martial. For you to infer anything from my earlier career would be a mistake."

"Would it?" Ulric turned away and slowly walked around to the other side of the Tukayyid windows. "Can an old soldier learn new strategies?"

"Is a caterpillar a butterfly? I chose the name Anastasius Focht for a most specific reason. I am not the man I once was. Deprived of an eye, I see more clearly now than ever before." Focht clasped his hands at the small of his back. "We will be defending Tukayyid with approximately fifty BattleMech regiments and appropriate air, artillery, armor, and infantry support. We have chosen not to use naval units because Tukayyid's surface water is limited and naval engagements would unnecessarily endanger the underwater city in the Crucible Sea."

Ulric appeared momentarily stunned by the declaration of ComStar's strength. "Fifty regiments?"

Focht nodded solemnly. "That is everything ComStar has, save the two 'Mech divisions on Terra itself. The Primus was disinclined to have her bodyguard units sent away."

"Then we are not fighting only for Tukayyid. Tukayyid is your proxy world for the Terran battle."

Did you expect some preliminary conflict for me to test you first?"Yes, ilKhan, it is our proxy battle. We have no more desire to fight on Terra than you do.

"If you take Tukayyid, in addition to caring for the population of the planet, we will cede to you Terra and all our facilities in your Occupation Zones. We will continue to administer your worlds for you and our revenues will become yours. If so ordered, we will cease all services for the Successor States. We will order our staffs to become integrated with your forces and, in effect, we will become part of the Clans—if you will have us."

Ulric began to pace and Focht was not sure how to read the man. Ulric had tightened down from his normally imperturbable self into an introspective cocoon. Focht almost heard the synapses going oft in the ilKhan's brain, but he held no illusions about the ilKhan cracking under the pressure of the ComStar bid to defend Terra.

It was obvious, though, that making Tukayyid a proxy surprised and now troubled the ilKhan. Focht would not have thought it possible to take the man unaware. Perhaps his knowledge of my background led him to expect something else from me.The Precentor Martial watched the ilKhan closely, but Ulric's face gave no clue to his thoughts.

Then Ulric stopped his pacing and stared at Focht through the Tukayyid combat window. "If you win, you will want something in return."

Focht nodded slowly. "The Primus has instructed me to demand that your Clans withdraw from the Inner Sphere when we defeat you."

He expected a harsh bark of laughter in response to that demand, but instead Ulric paused to consider it seriously. "That, I am afraid, is impossible, Anastasius, as you well know. Were I to agree to that condition, the Grand Council would impeach me and repudiate the agreement. We will not withdraw."

The Precentor Martial accepted the answer without protest. "As I expected." With one finger, he drew a pulsing red line paralleling the floor that went through Tukayyid. "If you will not withdraw, grant me that you and your forces will never pass this line. Let Tukayyid forever mark the closest point the Clans ever came to Terra."

Ulric pressed his hands together in an attitude of prayer. "Forever is a very long time, my friend. It is far longer than I or anyone I know will be able to make the Clans respect this bargain. Still, I can accept drawing a line of truce at Tukayyid, and I can grant you a year's armistice, as when we broke off our advance to elect a new ilKhan."

The Precentor Martial shook his head. "A year you no doubt see as generous."

"It has allowed your forces to equip and train themselves to better oppose us. Imagine the strides you would make with another year's worth of breathing room."

"Imagine the strides we would make given a century of peace."

"A century? I could sell the Grand Council the idea of forever sooner than I could a century. Five years."

"An eyeblink, Ulric. Five years is nothing to us. Sixty years—the career-span of our finest military leaders. Give me sixty years."

The ilKhan smiled in spite of himself. "Sixty years? We are mayflies compared to you. Sixty years is twelve generations of our warriors. I will be long dead and forgotten by the time war is again joined. Ten years at the most."

"To us tortoises, ten years is nothing. Ten years is not enough time to season a good warrior, much less train cadres to oppose you. Thirty years, then. Let the warriors who have fought you return to their homes to raise a new generation of warriors to meet the finest you have to offer."

Ulric hesitated as if reluctant to counter-bid. "I am afraid, my friend, thirty years is too much. I can grant you fifteen, and make that a solid bid. Unless you kill me on Tukayyid, I believe I can remain ilKhan long enough to guarantee that bargain. Beyond fifteen years, I will not be able to exert the influence necessary to bind the Clans by this agreement."

Focht adjusted the patch over his right eye. I have pushed you to the wall, haven't I?"Fifteen years I can accept. You have, after all, ceded the choice of battlefield to me."

"That is true." The Wolf Clan Khan scanned the Tukayyid data again. "What is the time-frame for this fight?"

"The start of May?"

"That is within operational possibilities. When the Clans have chosen the units that will assault Tukayyid, I will relay that information to you."

Focht extended his hand through the image of Tukayyid. "Bargained well and done, ilKhan."

Ulric smiled at his statement. "You have learned much during your time with us. Do you think you have learned enough?"

"Enough to know the answer to that question lies on Tukayyid."

24

ComStar First Circuit Compound, Hilton Head Island

North America , Terra

8 April 3052

 

Primus Myndo Waterly glanced over at the slender form of the Precentor from Dieron as the computer-projection of the Precentor Martial's report dissolved. "So, Sharilar Mori, what do you think?"

"I am pleased and honored that you show me this briefing before presenting it to the First Circuit," Sharilar said, but her face betrayed no emotion. "But I am a bit puzzled about why you have singled me out for this honor."

"Why puzzled?" Myndo smiled beatifically, seeking to project an image of serenity and wisdom. "Have you forgotten that I was your predecessor as Precentor Dieron and that I personally chose you as my replacement when I became Primus?"

"No, Primus, I have not forgotten, but I would not be human if I did not wonder at my good fortune." Sharilar looked down at the inlaid wooden floor of the Primus' private chambers. "I would like to think I have been of use during my time as Precentor Dieron."

"That you have, Sharilar, and you shall be of more service in the future." The Primus sat down in a chair and patted the arm of the one next to her. "Please, sit. I have something of great importance to share with you."

Sharilar moved with her usual grace, but Myndo sensed her nervousness. Good. Were she not excited by my approach to this situation, she would be utterly unsuited to doing what I need."Precentor Dieron, what do you think of the bargain the Precentor Martial has struck with the Clans?"

Sharilar sucked on her lower lip for a moment before answering. "I would have wished for a longer cessation of hostilities, but I believe him when he says fifteen years is the best he could work out. In that time, I imagine the Federated Suns and the Combine will have stockpiled sufficient forces to maintain that line when the fighting begins again."

Myndo rested a hand on Sharilar's forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I concur fully with your thoughts. Now, if you were to project your thoughts fifteen years in the future—say you were the Primus—what would you imagine is ComStar's chance of survival?"

Myndo took secret pleasure in Sharilar's twitch when she suggested the younger woman might become the Primus.

"Primus, that is a difficult task. If we defeat the Clans, they will surely order us off their worlds. All that we have accomplished over the last two years will be wasted. If the Draconis Combine and Federated Commonwealth are unable to stop the Clans, Terra will fall to them. I would guess our chances of survival are bleak if we cannot unite the Successor States to help us hold off the Clans."

The Primus leaned back in her chair. "And given the current attitude of Hanse Davion, what think you of our chances of uniting the Inner Sphere?"

"Very slender, Primus."

"Correct. In short, the Precentor Martial has bought us fifteen years at the best. If the Clans defeat him on Tukayyid, ComStar and Blessed Blake's dream die immediately."

Sharilar frowned heavily. "But the Precentor Martial sounded so confident. He said he had the key to defeating the Clans. Can he lose?"

Myndo snorted derisively. "Sharilar, you must learn to see the reality of the world. The Precentor Martial sees conflicts in the terms of a big wargame—a game of chess. To him, all can be decided on that game board, and nothing in the outside universe will affect that outcome. As far as he is concerned, the battle for Tukayyid will decide everything, then he and ilKhan Ulric will walk away friends."

"Are you not being a bit harsh with him?"

The Primus flicked her long white hair back with a casual gesture. "Not so, Precentor Dieron. Think of it this way: the

Precentor Martial is an old soldier and this will be the greatest battle of his career. Win or lose, his usefulness is at an end. He will never again know the challenge or glory of any war to surpass this one. His dreams will have been fulfilled, while ours must continue. He seeks to protect ComStar while we—you and I—must remain true to Blake's dream of reforming mankind."

Leaning forward in her chair, the older woman dropped her voice into a low, conspiratorial whisper. "A warrant for ComStar's death has been signed. We cannot allow this to happen."

Sharilar nodded woodenly as if the serious import of the Primus' words were slowly overwhelming her. "Jerome Blake's dream must not perish. That would be a betrayal of mankind."

"Exactly. While the Precentor Martial is putting forth his most valiant effort to shatter the Clans, we must look beyond his actions and ensure the ultimate victory of ComStar and Blake."

Sharilar stared at the Primus. "But how can we accomplish this? What can we do?"

The Primus smiled. "Computer, display the objective's list from Operation Scorpion."

The computer complied instantly. Where the Precentor Martial's face had formerly hung in the air, a list of glowing words came to life. Myndo scanned the list again, reveling in narcissistic glory, then smiled as Sharilar stared at the list with her mouth agape.

"Yes, Sharilar, it is a plan audacious in its concept, yet simple in execution. Phase one: stage revolts on all the Clan worlds we hold, trapping the garrisons and liberating the worlds in the name of ComStar. That will bring ComStar the glory of being mankind's savior."

"I see the wisdom of that, Primus, but phase two? Will not shutting down all our facilities in the Successor States sow panic and confusion among those we need as our allies?"

The Primus narrowed her dark eyes. "I want panic in the Successor States. It is the incredible arrogance of Hanse Davion, Theodore Kurita, and Thomas Marik that allows them to believe they can ignore us. Each was asked for support in our defense of Terra, but all we got were empty promises. They believed us useless and I mean to prove we can still hurt them. An interdiction that extends to the whole of the Successor States will yank their choke-chains and remind them how truly vital we are if they ever hope to oppose the Clans.

"Then, as we did with the Federated Suns twenty-three years ago, we will lift the sanctions in return for concessions. We will force them to use us as the Clans have on their occupied worlds. In fact, when communications are opened between capitals and outlying worlds, they will find that situation already exists, de facto, so they will have no choice but to accept."

Sharilar shuddered slightly at the words. "The Precentor Martial and the First Circuit will object to this plan."

"Which is why they will not know of it." Myndo saw realization dawn on Sharilar's face. "That is correct, Precentor Dieron. I have come to you with this plan because you successfully negotiated my short-lived alliance with Theodore Kurita. I know you are subtle and able to work outside normal channels. I need to cut the First Circuit out of our planning here, and I know I can trust you. You must get the messages out quickly to all of our Precentors and demi-Precentors so they can prepare. Operation Scorpion will go off at the same time as the Precentor Martial's battle with the Clans."

Myndo smiled like a conqueror. "When the Precentor Martial defeats the Clans, ilKhan Ulric will learn his troops are trapped deep behind enemy lines. The Clans will be forced to retreat and leave us alone forever."

The Primus saw an unholy gleam in Sharilar Mori's eyes. "It shall be as you say, Primus. I am curious, though, about your choice of name for this plan. Why scorpion?"

"It is because of an old folk tale, Sharilar." Myndo smiled coldly. "The story of an old blind dog and the arachnid that enlightened him about reality."

25

DropShip Barbarossa , Transit Orbit, Port Moseby

Virginia Shire, Federated Commonwealth

9 April 3052

 

Victor Davion felt a leaden net tighten around his heart and start to drag it down. "Morgan, you must be joking!"

The tall Marshal of the Federated Commonwealth shot his cousin a surprised glance. "As you must be joking about this proposed plan, I suppose? You asked me to come here to evaluate this?"Morgan held up a holodisk as if it were a piece of trash. "I've seen more intelligent plans suggested as wargame scenarios among the criminally insane."

Victor's face flushed. "Morgan, we worked hard on that plan. My people have trained hard on this. Our morale is higher than it's ever been and we're getting full cooperation from the Combine. General Kaulkas even approved the plan."

Morgan Hasek-Davion contemptuously flipped the holodisk onto his desk. "Just because you fooled her, do not expect to fool me. Were this a script from an Immortal Warriorholovid, I might just barelybegin to see how it made sense. In those potboilers, the hero can wipe out whole units on his own. But since when have you or your troops been taking super-warrior lessons? The only thing this will get us is twoPrinces trapped on Teniente."

"No, Morgan, you're wrong." Victor's hands knotted into fists. "This plan can work, and it will.Just give us the chance to pull it off."

"War is not about chances, Victor. War is about dead certainties, and the certainty that people will end up dead because of the war." Morgan's eyes spat fire. "You're sending a reinforced battalion into a world that, at best, has incomplete intelligence concerning the enemy. You do not know the location of your objective, but you've narrowed his possible location to a dozen different sites on the north continent. You're hoping that Hohiro will be able to direct your troops to the landing zone closest to his position as you come inbound. But you haven't a clue as to whether or not security on the planet has been breached or whether Hohiro has been captured and broken—or if he's even alive. You could be dropping straight into an ambush."

"That would be true, cousin, if we were going in hostile. You read the plan. They won't know we're an enemy force coming in."

"Oh, yes," Morgan scoffed, "coming into the system in disguised DropShips. What a brilliant, foolproof plan that is."

"It worked for you on Sian," Victor shot back.

"True, but the differences between Sian and Teniente are legion." Morgan started to tick them off on his fingers. "Maximilian Liao was both stupid and desperate; the Clans are neither. We came in using Liao's own DropShips; you are using DropShips with new paint jobs. We owned two of the top three individuals on Liao's intelligence staff; you have no such inside support. Need I go on?"

Victor felt hot and wanted to punch the bulkhead. In frustration, he tore at the collar of his shirt, accidentally touching the Stone Monkey pendant he wore under it. Kai Allard had given him the pendant, and Victor remembered with an electric jolt Kai telling him that Sun Hou-Tzu would keep him safe. "This totem is meant to remind you to be yourself, no matter what," Kai told me. What I am being now, what Morgan is driving me to be, is a petulant child. No more.

The Prince forced his hands to unknot. "Your points are well taken, but I have Shin Yodama's solemn assurances that the deception will work perfectly. I have to assume that Theodore Kurita himself has approved the information we're working with."

Morgan looked hard at Victor. "That does not mean it is not in error."

"But it does mean that the Kanrei is willing to stake his son's life on it being correct." Victor injected a calmer tone into his voice and willfully sought to slow his breathing and heartbeat. "Morgan, you can see as clearly as I can that this plan is very important. You yourself told me there would be other Alyinas and other lives to avenge besides that of Kai Allard."

Victor again caressed the jade pendant. "This is a chance to do more than avenge Kai's death. After Kai died, Galen reminded me that his death would only be a waste if the Clans destroyed us. To do that, the Clans have to destroy our way of life and our governments. Until then, we will always oppose them.

"You've seen the reports concerning the Free Rasalhague Republic." Victor pointed at the holovid viewer on the corner of Morgan's desk. "The loss of Prince Ragnar has hurt their morale. The people had believed, up until that point, that they were fighting to preserve their dream of self-determination. Now, with Ragnar captured by the Clans and his father's heart nearly broken, the Free Rasalhague forces just go through the motions of fighting. Even that bastard Tor Miraborg has become one of the Wolves' lap dogs, and there was never even a fight for Gunzburg."

"Morgan leaned back against the edge of his desk. "What are you telling me, Victor?"

The Prince knew from his cousin's tone that he'd better make his next shot his best. "I'm telling you nothing, Morgan. I'm asking you to look at the greater importance of this mission to the Successor States. When we bring Hohiro back, the people can rejoice in our having whisked him out from under the noses of the Nova Cats. The people will also see how important it is for us to work with the Draconis Combine. It will let them know that Hohiro and I are capable of coexisting without killing each other, and that will give them hope for the future beyond the Clans. For our military personnel, it will prove the Clans can be had. It will show that the military doctrines we've been preaching do work. It will prove we can beat the Clans."

"And if it fails, Victor? What then?"

The small man shrugged. "For the Combine, it will make little difference in the short term. They still face vastly superior Clan forces. While the victory might boost their morale, Hohiro's death, if it becomes known at all, will only make them more determined to defend their holdings against the Clans. As for what the rule of Minora Kurita might bring, quite frankly, I don't think he'll ever take the throne and I certainly will not be around to worry about it."

Morgan nodded. "And what will your death mean to the Federated Commonwealth?"

"Little or nothing." Victor met Morgan's surprised look calmly. "Face it, Morgan. Everyone has been doubting my ability to sustain the Davion legend you and my father have created. I've always been seen as the Little-Prince-Who-Tried, not the Little-Prince-Who-Could. Besides, more than one government official would welcome my sister Katherine or my brother Peter as my replacement on the throne."

The Marshal walked around his desk and dropped into the chair behind it. "So, then, you want to do this mission to prove all the naysayers wrong?"

"No, Morgan, that game won't work anymore." Victor pulled himself up to his full height. "You won't get me to rant and rave because that will only prove I don't have the objectivity to make this operation a go. Yes, I still have my temper, but I also have a brake on it. I've worked out every angle on this mission, but I'm prepared to scrap it if the situation changes or you order me to abandon it. Still, I know this plan is solid and I suspect you do, too."

Morgan Hasek-Davion steepled his fingers. His long copper hair obscured the Marshal's epaulets on his black uniform jacket. "You have come a long way, Victor. I can still recall your objection to being assigned to Trellwan. You appealed to me to sympathize with you then, and you have done the same thing several times since. Always I opposed you or made you accept full responsibility for your actions." . He spread his hands apart. "Now you come to me with a plan for which you accept the responsibility. I sense this is in part because Kai Allard used to shoulder it for you. I regret his passing, but I am pleased that it has forced you to mature.

"You are very special, Victor. You are one of those people who burns very, very bright, determined to live up to your name. I have always known you were destined for greatness."

The Prince's eyes narrowed. "If that is true, why have you made things so difficult for me?"

"Because, my Prince, those who burn so very bright tend to burn out just as fast. I will never risk the lives of men and women in my command on a feeling. War is a crucible in which men discover their true mettle. I did not want others to suffer if you proved lacking."

Victor glanced down and swallowed hard. "I understand. Have you reached a verdict on me?"

Morgan paused before answering. "I am forwarding a copy of your briefing, along with my comments, to your father. Pending his approval or disapproval of the plan, I am authorizing the Tenth Lyran Guards' First Reinforced Battalion to head out for link with the Combine JumpShips waiting insystem. I expect full reports sent from each jump point and updates on intelligence estimates. You father has final approval, of course, but I think this is a mission that must become a reality."

Victor's heart buoyed up again in his breast. "Thank you, Morgan."

"Don't thank me, Victor. Save that energy for making sure this plan will work." The Marshal's eyes narrowed. "Be yourself and be honest with yourself. You don't have Kai Allard there to help you out in that department. If this mission can't fly, kill it. Kill it before it kills you."