Текст книги "Coupe"

Автор книги: Michael A. Stackpole

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32

New Avalon

Cruris March, Federated Suns

6 August 3029

 

The fear that had coiled like a snake about to strike now sunk its fangs into Hanse Davion. "Say that again, Quintus. They're going to hit Kathil?"

The spymaster nodded grimly. Color had drained from his face, leaving it half a shade darker than his white hair. The verigraphhe held in his hand trembled, as did the older man's lower lip. "He buried it well inside this note. This one paragraph is not remarkable in context, but it contains all the key words. 'A bird without wings cannot fly, but what need have we of clipping wings if we scale the cliff and fire the nest? Before this is ended, Father, I wish I could see your face one more time. We have come far, you and I, and are now just opposite sides of the same coin.' " The old man looked up from the message in his hand. "It sounds so like Justin."

Hanse sank back into his leather chair. "Kathil. Has Max gone completely over the edge? If he destroys the factories at Kathil, he'll be strangling mankind's travel between the stars."

Quintus looked up. "Forgive me, Highness, but the codeword for factories did not appear in the message. A reference to eggs would have indicated an involvement with the factories. I have to interpret 'fire the next' to mean they will hit the generators or subassembly facilities on the world itself. That would slow us down without destroying a most precious resource." Hanse frowned deeply. "What could they use to hit Kathil?"

An angry anxious expression congealed on Quintus's face. "I have to believe they'll use the best they have left. I know where McCarron's Armored Cavalry is, so it's not going to be them. The units will probably come from Sian, and that would have to mean House Imarra troops or the Death Commandos."

Hanse slammed his right fist against the top of his desk. "And we still only have militia protecting the world?"

Quintus nodded ruefully. "If Liao has been able to set up a command circuit directed at Kathil, they could be there next week. Our own force scheduled to show up there is without transport. Ever since we stripped some ships off to our rotation circuits to carry Melissa back to the Commonwealth, we've got nothing close enough to get them there."

Hanse sat and stared at his balled fists, letting the silence hang heavily in the air. The ambitions of a petty Lyran noble makes him do one thing, and that creates the potential for disaster here in the Federated Suns. The desire for little personal victories inspires this raid on Kathil, but it also got ComStar to pass this important message on to us, without realizing its importance.

Hanse swallowed hard. "Well, my friend, we'd best find any troops in the area that we can deliver posthaste. And we better pray they can stop Liao's raiders, because otherwise we'll lose everything we've won this past year and then some."

* * *

Rays from the setting sun lanced through the tall windows of Hanse Davion's office, stretching the Prince's shadow so it touched the doors to his office. The Prince, his face shadowed, looked up as Quintus Allard escorted Kym Sorenson into the room. "Thank you for coming on such short notice, Lady Sorenson."

She curtsied, then blushed. Her long blond hair was gathered back, and she wore faded trousers and an oversized shirt emblazoned with the crest of the Davion Heavy Guards. "Forgive my appearance, Highness. I came as soon as the Minister called me, I . . ."

Hanse forced a smile and raised a hand to forestall her explanation. "No need to apologize. This is a situation that calls for a swift response, not protocol or ceremony." Hanse hesitated for a moment, searching through the different ways he had thought to ask his question. He rejected all his previous ideas and waved her toward a chair. "Please, Kym, be seated."

She stiffened. "Highness, if this is about Morgan, I think I should remain standing." She tugged nervously on the ends of her shirt, pulling it tight at the shoulders.

Realizing the reason for her anxiety, the Prince said quickly,

"Nothing has happened to Morgan, Kym. He's fine." The Prince looked beyond her toward the closed doors and Quintus Allard. "In fact, he's waiting to speak with me as soon as I have spoken with you, though he does not know you are here."

Relief flooded her pretty face, bringing back animation and color. "Thank you, Highness."

Don't thank me yet. Your feelings for him are obvious. How have they affected your mission?"There is no easy way for me to ask you this, Kym, so forgive my clumsy approach." He looked into her blue eyes. "Can Morgan be trusted with troops in the Capellan March?"

It pleased the Prince that she met his gaze without flinching. "Highness, if you have another subject who is more loyal and trustworthy than Morgan Hasek-Davion, you are unique and blessed among the rulers of the Successor States." Kym stopped as emotion choked her, and she turned slightly away.

Hanse granted her the time to recover. Wiping away tears with the sleeve of her shirt, she turned back. "Forgive me."

"Nothing to forgive, Kym."

She smiled weakly, took in a deep breath and calmed herself. "In my opinion, Prince Hanse, you have nothing to fear from entrusting troops to Morgan."

Hanse narrowed his eyes. "He's not had contacts with dissidents in the Capellan March? He's not anxious to take his father's place as their leader? The death of the Fifth Syrtis Fusiliers affected him deeply ..."

Anger flashed through Kym's eyes, but she stopped herself before letting it form into words. "Highness, you have no idea the conflicts Morgan has fought within himself over the years. His father's death hurt him deeply. The loss saddened him because he loved his father, and also because he realized his father was foolish and disloyal. Ultimately, Morgan accepted responsibility for his father's death because he believed he had not worked hard enough to bring the two of you back together."

Hanse shook his head. "There is no way he could have healed that rift."

"I know that," Kym said, "but Morgan doesn't see it that way. He's constantly struggling to atone for his father's mistakes and to prove himself worthy of the honor of being named your heir. The destruction of the Fifth Syrtis hurt him because it was another link lost with his father. More importantly, though, he knew that had he been commanding that force, he would have crushed McCarron's Armored Cavalry. It tore him up to think an idiot like Hartstone would embarrass you so."

Kym half-turned so she could see both men. "You have asked if Morgan has communicated with Capellan March dissidents. He has." She ignored the shocked looks on the two men's faces. "He's told them to go to hell. After his father's death, Count Anton Vitios pledged his personal support to Morgan. Morgan's reply was short and succinct: 'The Capellan March is now and forever shall be a loyal part of the Federated Suns. If you want to shed your blood on the altar of separatism, you'll find my hand on the knife.'"

Hanse saw the smile on Quintus Allard's face and it mirrored his own. "Your words, your tone, your eyes tell me that what you say is the truth." Hanse's smile grew as he felt a heavy weight falling away from his heart. "I've always hoped what you've said about Morgan was true, but I feared he might be his father's son in more than blood." Hanse crossed to Kym and rested his hands on her shoulders. "Thank you. I owe you a debt I can never repay you.' "

Her gaze searched his face for a moment. "There is something you can do for me."

"Name it."

Kym glanced at Quintus. "I will continue to work for you in the NAIS until the war is ended. After that, I will terminate my service with the MHO." She looked up into Hanse's ice blue eyes. "Never tell Morgan I spied on him for you. I love him too much to see him hurt that way."

Hanse smiled and enfolded her in a hug. "Neither one of us wants him hurt, Kym. Your secret is safe."

Pulling back, she smiled, then glanced down as tears rolled from her eyes. "When does he ship out?"

So quick, so smart. Your departure from the MHO will be a great loss.Hanse brushed her tears away. "You'll have tonight... Some of it, at least." He put an arm over her shoulders and gave her a squeeze as he directed her to the side door of his office. "From here, you can leave the Palace without Morgan seeing you."

Kym opened the door, then turned to the Prince again. "Morgan will do whatever you ask of him, or die trying. I hope this is worth it."

Hanse nodded solemnly. "It is. If he falls, the Federated Suns falls with him."

33

New Avalon

Cruris March, Federated Suns

6 August 3029

 

Hanse Davion accepted Morgan Hasek-Davion's proffered hand gladly. He met and matched his nephew's firm grip and pumped his arm strongly. He sensed in Morgan the ability and strength to crush his hand, but felt no concern. From what Kym just said, Morgan would strike off the offending limb before harming me.

Hanse waved Morgan to a chair. "Please, Morgan, be seated. I must speak with you about something urgent."

Morgan sat down, his long red-gold hair falling over the shoulders of his olive-drab jumpsuit. The fabric pulled taut over his massive chest, revealing the outline of a cooling vest underneath. He did not relax, but sat forward on the edge of the chair, following Hanse's pacing with restless green eyes.

Feet shoulder-width apart, Hanse clasped his hands at the small of his back, then turned to face Morgan. "I have a confession to make to you. Sixteen years ago, my brother Ian died in a war with House Kurita. Perhaps he was foolish to place himself in such jeopardy, but that was his right as the Prince of the Federated Suns. Right or wrong, his action left him vulnerable, and when he died, it placed me on the throne ..."

Morgan shook his head almost imperceptibly. "You don't have to do this, Hanse."

Yes I do, Morgan. As much for me as for you.As Hanse forced himself to smile, Morgan settled back in his chair. Hanse glanced at Quintus and bade him sit as well.

"Before that, I had never given much thought to ruling the Federated Suns because I was not raised for that job. I studied to be a military man, and I discovered, soon enough, that tactics and strategy mean little in the political arena. My brother's last heartbeat moved me from the world of battles waged in the open to a realm where you often don't see the attack until it's too late."

The Prince smiled at his nephew. "I never much liked your father, but I respected the hell out of his ability to create alliances and form power coalitions. When he and I struggled over who would actually sit on Ian's throne, I think my lack of guile threw him off. He spent so much time and energy looking for my hidden attacks that he let my frontal assaults weaken him. The only political lesson I had ever learned was that you can't fight a dead man, so I used the image of my brother's trust in me to keep a Davion on the throne.

"Over the years, I've learned more about politics, and the paranoia that made your father vulnerable began to infect me, too. I looked at you and took all the myriad signs of your loyalty and friendship for a facade hiding a possible plot for my downfall. I should have realized sooner, much sooner, that in you I was seeing the image of myself before Ian's death. I'm sorry it took so long for me to see."

Morgan looked down at his hands. "All I've ever wanted was to be a friend you could trust."

Hanse swallowed against the lump in his throat. "I know. For the record, I realize now that it wasn't my fear of your following in your father's footsteps that prevented me from giving you a combat assignment in this war. Nor was I afraid of what might happen were you captured or killed by Liao forces." He looked into Morgan's eyes. "The truth is, I couldn't bear the idea of losing such a close friend."

Morgan frowned. "How can you call me that when you said you were afraid of my disloyalty."

Quintus laid his hand on Morgan's shoulder. "Being afraid of fire doesn't mean you never strike a match. You just don't strike one in a place where the fire can get out of control. Hanse knew, deep down, that you could be trusted. He just had to be sure others could not twist you and use you against him."

Hanse nodded in agreement. "Now, however, a situation has come up that requires handling by a tactical genius. It is of vital importance. I will not repeat Ian's mistake. Besides, I'm not certain my skill could bring us a victory. You're the only one I can trust with it."

Morgan nodded once. "Give me a bucket of water and I'll storm the gates of Hell for you."

Hanse smiled uneasily. "Would that this mission were so easy." He plucked a folder from his desk and handed it to Morgan. As the younger man scanned the material, Hanse continued speaking.

"Liao has a minimum of one elite battalion—most probably his Death Commandos—heading in to Kathil. We believe they're going to destroy the generating facilities on the ground. On the planet, we have a very green militia unit. The only other forces I can give you are a reinforced 'Mech company and the tailings from the Fifth Syrtis Fusiliers. We've nothing else in range that can get there in time."

Morgan looked up anxiously. "If they cripple Kathil, we'll have no way to repair JumpShips, nor will we be able to build new ones to replace those that can't be fixed. Our troops will have to pull back, our supply routes become more chancy, and our reaction time to enemy raids goes to hell."

Hanse sat back on the edge of his desk. "Now you know why you've got to stop the assault. The Death Commandoes are suicide troops. They'll keep coming until you blow them to pieces. They might have some help—in which case, things are going to get really nasty."

Morgan snapped the folder shut. He stood and saluted Hanse Davion. "I'll stop them. If it takes every man and every 'Mech I have, I'll stop them."

Hanse returned the salute. "You'll have to do better than that."

Morgan frowned in confusion. "Pardon?"

"We learned of this attack because of a risky move by an agent inside the Maskirovka." Hanse looked his nephew straight in the eye. "After the defense of Kathil, whatever you have left in the way of men and machines must go to Sian to bring him back home."

34

Tharkad

District of Donegal, Lyran Commonwealth

10 August 3029

 

Katrina Steiner stood before her throne as Frederick Steiner entered the hall. The tap of his heels against the polished marble floor sounded a rhythmic tattoo, faltering only when Frederick noticed Ryan Steiner standing in the throne's shadow. The Archon saw Frederick's valiant struggle to keep the surprise from his face, and she savored it. Yes, you idiot. You are undone.

Frederick, resplendent in the gray uniform of the Tenth Lyran Guards, came to a halt at the base of the throne. He clicked his heels and bowed to the Archon, but she did not offer him her hand. He straightened up stiffly. "You have summoned me, Archon?"

The Archon looked down at him. "So I have."

Frederick squirmed uneasily beneath her cold stare. His right hand almost rose to massage the scar at his temple, but he caught himself. "What is it, Katrina?" Frederick transmuted some of his fear into irritation. "There's a war on out there, and it's time for my troops to rotate back to the front. What do you want?"

The Archon smiled cruelly as she seated herself on the tall throne. Above and behind her, the two Griffin BattleMechs belonging to her Household Guard seemed to stare down at Frederick like executioners. "What do I want, Frederick?" She leaned forward. "If I had my way, I'd have your head on a platter!"

Frederick drew back a step. "What are you talking about?"

Katrina waved his question aside. "You moron! It's bad enough that you plot little treasons with Aldo Lestrade, but now you actively join him in this latest of his plots! Until now, I'd always assumed the attempts on my life were the work of Lestrade, and Lestrade alone." She turned to Ryan. "Now he brings me a holodisk you sent to Alessandro demanding his support in the situation resulting from my downfall. How could you have been so blatantly stupid?"

Frederick's mouth dropped open. "Aldo has tried to have you killed? I knew there had been attempts, but I assumed they were made by dissidents, by Heimdall... or by House Kurita. I. .."

The pained look of betrayal in his eyes touched something in Katrina. Frederick has always been hostile and malicious, but I've overlooked many things because of his loyalty to the Commonwealth and his general lack of imagination. Am I wrong in supposing he was desperate enough to sanction this latest attempt?

"Frederick, two months ago, assassins nearly murdered me and Simon Johnson. If not for a member of Heimdall, you'd be sitting in my place now. Are you telling me this was not the incident you hinted at in the holodisk sent to Alessandro?"

All color had drained from Frederick's face, but fire still burned his eyes. He glanced hatefully at Ryan, then looked at the Archon. "I swear on my honor as an officer in the LCAF that I knew nothing of any attempt to kill you. Depose you, yes. I've wanted to do that ever since you usurped the throne. But I wanted to defeat you in a political battle, not destroy you like a thief fighting over the swag from a job."

Katrina's nostrils flared. "Your honor as an officer in the LCAF means nothing, Frederick, but the desire for an open battle is you, through and through." The Archon leaned back in her throne, resting her elbows on the arms and steepling her fingers. "What incident did you refer to in your message?"

Frederick stiffened as though prepared to deny her that information, but Katrina never gave him the chance to offer honor as a defense. "Face it, Frederick. Aldo Lestrade betrayed you a hundred times over. I know he is behind this—he's pulled your strings like a master puppeteer. What did he use to seduce you into cooperating this time?"

Frederick's resolve broke. "He planned, after any hostile action by the Combine forces, to declare the Isle of Skye independent. He would restrict trade, cutting you off from the Federated Suns." His eyes full of a plea for understanding, Frederick looked up at Katrina. "I would negotiate a settlement between the two of you. I would be seen as a leader and—" he glared at

Ryan– "with Alessandro's support, I could force you to abdicate. Or at least share power with me in some coalition."

Katrina glanced at Ryan, despising the smirk on the young man's lips. Just as he told me, though that plan was obvious from the political situation and the holodisk. Obvious enough for even Frederick to plumb its depths and decide it might work.Katrina felt a cold chill. Yes, with the people's irritation over the war's stalemate and my daughter's marriage, it probably would have worked.

She nodded solemnly. "The Kell Hounds defeating the Third Dieron Regulars put a crimp in that plan. Lestrade could not claim I had neglected him when the Hounds defended his world for him, could he?"

Frederick stared down at his boots. "No. He said the plan had just been delayed, not permanently stopped." His head came up. "You've seen that he's kept the Isle of Skye defended as lightly as possible, with the exception of Summer. He's still afraid of a raid there, though I think he fears the Kell Hounds more than he does the Dragon."

Katrina let her hands drop to her lap. "It is well that he does. The Kell Hounds have business of their own to attend to, and after that, I am not certain I can restrain them from taking Summer apart." Indeed, if Yorinaga Kurita had not sent Morgan a message setting up a battle on the desert world of Nusakan IV in two months, Morgan might have already killed Lestrade.

Frederick Steiner tore the epaulets from his uniform and tossed them at the Archon's feet. "I resign from the Tenth Lyran Guards. They're the best troops an officer could ever hope to lead." He looked into Katrina's eyes, letting the barest hint of a smile lift the corners of his mouth. "But you know that. You commanded them before becoming Archon. They're still the best. I will not have their reputation soiled when you try me for treason and have me executed."

Katrina looked down at the shoulder-boards, momentarily entranced by the light flashing from the silver double diamonds on each one. I wish it were that simple.She nudged them back in his direction with the toe of her boot.

"Believe me, Frederick, I wish I could accept your offer. Had I a choice, I'd have you shot and Aldo Lestrade hung from the highest Triad tower. As it is, that's impossible. I cannot have you killed, nor can I accept your resignation."

Frederick's white brows met as a puzzlement made deep wrinkles in his forehead. "I do not understand."

Katrina moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. "In leaving the Isle of Skye open for attack, Aldo Lastrade has made his holding very attractive to the Draconis Combine. True, they did try a raid that would give him the excuse to pull out, but that plan came from Luthien. A new, more deadly plan has been drafted by Theodore Kurita. In short, he plans a major offensive based from the world of Dromini VI. The offensive is to begin in late October and will stab deep into the Isle of Skye."

Frederick closed his eyes as he summoned up a mental map of the region. "That puts a half-dozen worlds in jeopardy, and makes many more vulnerable to second– and third-stage jumps." His eyes opened. "With our forces strung out through the Rasalhague District and fighting along the Marik border, we don't have time to get troops and supplies to Skye to stop their offensive."

"Not unless we want to let our front collapse like a house of cards," Katrina said. "I could pump troops into the Skye worlds, but they'd not have the needed support or supplies. Given another month, I could do it, and another month is what I mean to have."

She leaned forward, all Archon-to-subject protocol abandoned. Speaking as one MechWarrior to another, she quickly outlined her only hope. "Theodore Kurita has already hit Dromini VI with commando attacks that have eliminated the world's militia. He'll begin filtering troops and supplies onto the planet over the next two months. Then, late in November, he'll head out. The JumpShips are using a pirate point less than three hundred thousand kilometers from the world to keep the evidence of activity to a minimum. The only hope we have of delaying the invasion is to prevent sufficient troops and supplies from being gathered. I need to hit Theodore's supply base."

Frederick nodded slowly, rubbing his hand over his chin. "An elite unit could do it. We could destroy the stores, but it would be a suicide mission."

Katrina met his unwavering stare. "Dying a hero is a much better way to be remembered in history than being executed for treason."

Frederick raised himself up to full height. "Promise me that a JumpShip will wait for any of my men who do somehow survive to make it back." He narrowed his eyes as she hesitated. "You need not fear, Katrina, that I will be among them."

The Archon stood and offered him her hand. "It shall be done."

Frederick kissed her hand, then took one last look at the throne room he had yearned to call his own. He bowed and turned to leave, but stopped to stare coldly at the other Steiner in the room. "What you have seen here, Ryan Steiner, is what happens when you lose to a gracious victor. I hope, when your time comes, that your defeat will serve the Commonwealth as well as mine."

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