Текст книги "Heir To The Dragon "

The four joined the other Combine machines already gathered on the runway. The 'Mechs sorted themselves out into a loose wedge, the Pantherat the head. The 'Mechs on the left flank swiveled their torsos to the left while those on the right twisted right. Gathering speed, the hulking machines began to pound along the runway.

Energy lanced out from laser crystals and PPCs while deep-throated autocannon vied noisily with the shrill whine of machine guns as the 'Mechs raced along. Their targets, Lyran AeroSpace Fighters grounded by the weather and tarped-over for protection from the sand, erupted in flames. The oily black smoke that rose from their blasted remains was shredded and dispersed by the winds still raging high above the base. The Combine BattleMechs continued on when they reached the end of the runway, weapons silent now. The 'Mechs were shadows in the sand, becoming progressively more obscure until they disappeared into the storm's embrace.

Kincaid was standing alone on the runway amid the burning wrecks when the Lyran reaction force arrived.

"Where are they, Colonel?"

"Gone. Again."

It would be no use to pursue them. Even during the first week of the Kuritan offensive, the damned Snakes had somehow been able to strike and vanish almost with impunity. Now, under cover of the storm, they would, be more elusive than ever.

* * *

The "Katana Kat's" myomer-powered fingers clung to the rockface, anchoring it in the hundred-kilometer-per-hour winds. Fuhito watched the funnel cloud whip down the wadi, sucking sand from its hard-packed bed. The dark whirlwind slid over McCoy's Cicada,knocking the long-legged 'Mech to the ground and pulling it to pieces.

"Frak!" Fuhito swore. McCoy and his 'Mech were the third they had lost to the wild tornadoes in the two weeks since the seasonal weather front had closed in on South Nantuo. The Legion had taken fewer battle casualties while hamstringing Lyran invaders during the same period.

The killer funnel passed on, and Fuhito and his detachment continued on their way in the diminished storm. An hour of hard travel brought them to the cliff face that sheltered the Second Legion of Vega's base camp. In the caves honeycombing the cliff, away from the sand and wind, the Legion had set up their little-used rest-and-recovery facilities. Looking forward to the quiet, Fuhito led his men through the makeshift windscreens into the relative quiet of the caverns.

He dumped his record of the sortie over the microwave link to the unit's battle computer and eased off the heavy neurohelmet. The four-day patrol had stiffened his body, making the climb down the "Kat's" exit ladder an exercise in agony. He found Michael Heise waiting for him.

"Good hunting, Tetsuhara-fean?"

"Good enough, Tai-sho.The full report's in the comp," Fuhito said wearily. He ran his tongue over his gritty teeth; somehow sand had leaked into his purification system. "The weather is deadly. We lost McCoy to a funnel."

"Unfortunate. But not unexpected for this time of year. Vega is not known for its gentle summer weather." Heise shrugged. "It's been a boon to us this year, though. The damned Lyran AeroSpace force has been grounded for two weeks. Tai-saKurita's strategy of mounting attacks under cover of the storms has paid off incredible dividends. Between the storms and our attacks, more than half the Lyran fighters are ruined. Which means that when the skies clear in a week or two, our air forces will be evenly matched. Then we shall have a glorious fight."

"With all respect, Tai-sho,you sound like one of Tai-saKurita's inspirational speeches."

Heise chuckled. "And why not, Tetsuhara -kun? I am inspired by him. He has turned the situation entirely around. When the weather breaks, we will destroy the Elsies."

"We shall certainly fight them, Tai-sho,"Fuhito agreed, unsettled by the unfounded optimism replacing Heise's previous unfounded gloom. "But, again with respect, destroying them is another matter."

Undaunted, Heise waved his arm to indicate the Kurita forces gathered in the caverns. "These are inspired troops. They cannot but achieve victory. When the weather clears, we will take to the wadis again, running along our secret highways to attack the Elsies where they least expect it."

The Steiner forces had been fooled so far, but despite their reputation, they were not totally dim. They would not remain oblivious to the Combine ploy. Once the Lyrans figured out the Tai-sa'sstrategy, the Legion would have to face the elite Third Guards 'Mech to 'Mech. The Second and Fourteenth Legion Regiments had not had the benefit of Tai-saKurita's attention as had the Eleventh Vegan. Even though they probably outnumbered the Elsies, these Legionnaires were not yet ready for open battle with the Lyran veterans.

"Soon the Lyrans will realize that we are traveling on the wadis, and our element of surprise will be lost," Fuhito said. "We will have to face them directly."

"With Tai-saKurita to lead us, we shall triumph!"

Fuhito hoped he was right.

32

Kerschengian Factory Complex, Cochus, Vega

Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine

13 December 3028

The Victorshuddered under the impact of armor-piercing shells from the Lyran Marauder'sautocannon. Theodore stomped down on the throttle, running for cover behind the gutted factory building. Blue lightning from one of the Lyran's PPCs ripped the ground at the accelerating Victor'sfeet.

That Lyran strike team had pierced the Legion's lines and cornered him and his command lance in the Kerschengian Factory Complex on the outskirts of Cochus. Tourneville had transmitted a warning of the Lyrans' arrival before cutting behind a row of storage tanks, leaving Theodore and Tomoe to face a quartet of Lyran heavy 'Mechs. Tomoe's outclassed Pantherhad been gutted in the first rush, but she had punched out as the 'Mech collapsed. He had seen her chair's parachute and assumed she had landed safely. He dared not consider any other result.

Without warning, azure fire burned across his path. Theodore twisted the Victorto the left, and as he did so, the origin of the bolt was revealed: Trouneville's Vindicator.Theodore checked his wide scan and refocused the visual scanner on his rear quadrant. Tourneville's target, a Lyran Crusader,was visible there, still reeling from the damage it had taken from the Vindicator'sPPC. Sputtering fires burned in the wounded 'Mech's left belly.

Theodore ripped off a burst from his Pontiac 100 autocannon. The high-velocity shells clawed through the Crusader'storso, shredding ceramet armor. Secondary explosions sent shards of titanium-alloy internal braces rocketing from the wound. The Crusaderdoubled over and sat down heavily. A massive explosion stretched it out as the fusion reactor blew, spewing a fountain of liquid metal and hot gases into the air.

The Marauderrounded the corner behind Theodore, who fired the Victor'sjump jets, hoping to escape the enemy warrior's sights before he could get a weapons lock-on. The eighty-ton machine rose rapidly, as twin PPCs ionized the air beneath it.

Looking for a safe landing place, Theodore watched Tourneville dodge away as a Lyran Warhammercratered the tank behind which the Vindicatorhad sheltered. The Kurita medium 'Mech fled for cover, unable and unwilling to stand against the seventy-ton monster.

Theodore searched for the fourth Steiner 'Mech, an Ostroc.He found it, the smooth shape of its egg-shaped body standing out plainly from the angular tangle of I-beams jutting from the rubble of a workshed. Angling his flight, he tried for a landing to the Ostroc'sright, well out of the field of its shoulder-mounted missile launcher.

The Lyran saw him coming, turning as Theodore recovered from the landing. The Ostrocunleashed a full fusillade of laser fire. One of the weapons missed the hulking Victorcompletely, but the other three savaged the 'Mech's duralex sheathing. Armor plates flowed, revealing further layers, shiny from partial melting.

Theodore fired his jump jets again, trying to overlap his enemy and catch him from behind. The Lyran reacted, the stubby snouts of all four lasers tracking the flight of the Victor.Ruby pulses sought the Kurita 'Mech's vitals, but the heat build-up in the Lyran machine must have affected its targeting computers. The pilot missed what should have been an easy shot.

The Victorgrounded a scant ten meters behind the Ostroc.Theodore fired the Pontiac, then closed without waiting to see the results. Fragments pattered against the Victoras 100mm shells shattered the weak back armor of the Lyran 'Mech. Armor vanished, exposing the machine's internal superstructure. It, too, cratered and disappeared under the explosive fury of the shells. The Ostroc'schestplate and right arm leaped into the air as the 'Mech's rocket storage ignited in a violent chain of explosions. The Steiner machine toppled, a disjointed puppet bereft of guidance.

Theodore aborted the kick he had intended to cripple the Ostroc'sleft leg.

Victory was short-lived. Theodore's 'Mech rocked under renewed assault by the persistent Marauder.The Lyran's PPCs gobbled the Victor's back armor, exposing its inner workings. The Victortoppled under the violence of the attack, crashing to the ground before Theodore could compensate.

The impact jarred him, costing him precious seconds as the alien shape of the Marauderstalked closer. The advancing 'Mech pulverized concrete blocks under its clawed feet as it scrambled over a wall of rubble. Its carapace swiveled to point in Theodore's direction, lining up under the dorsal autocannon, which spat explosive death at the downed Victor.

Lyran shells crawled destructively across the breast of the Victorand crashed into the 'Mech's head. The cockpit rang under the pounding, pitching under the release of kinetic energy. Theodore was tossed violently about. When his neuro-helmet connections ripped free, Theodore was slammed back against the command couch, stunned.

Lacking the neural feedback from Theodore's system, the Victorwent limp, lying defenseless before the Marauder.Wary of a trick, the Lyran advanced cautiously. At thirty-five meters, it halted. One massive, blocky forearm rose and extended toward the fallen 'Mech's leg. Cyan energy howled out to caress the limb, flaying armor plates under its hellish energy. The Lyran pilot fired again, dissolving the rest of the Victor's protective covering. Exposed actuators and myomer pseudomuscles melted and flowed under a third blast. Coolant fluid from ruptured lines flash-boiled in an explosive burst of steam.

Satisfied that the Victorwas crippled, the Lyran paced his 'Mech forward to stand towering over his fallen enemy.

Dazed, Theodore wondered if the Lyran intended to boil him within the 'Mech or to ask for a surrender. There was nothing more that he could do. He was trapped in his cockpit, the right side of his body pinned under a massive tangle that used to be his system function board. His right arm, limp and broken, rested on the comm board. Theodore had fought as well as he could against a superior foe; there was no shame in this defeat.

The hiss of particle beams heralded another twist in the flow of the battle. One of the azure bolts creased the Marauder'sright leg, furrowing globs of molten armor from it. Multiple missile impacts cratered the 'Mech's turbine-shaped air exchanger system high on the left-rear torso. The Maraudercrouched down under the impact, then straightened, shrugging off the damage. It swiveled its carapace to the left, directing a blast from the Magna Hellstar PPC in the left forearm at an unseen target. An autocannon roared out its own response to the Marauder'sright. The Lyran 'Mech held its ground.

Did the Lyran know who lay at his mercy?Theodore wondered.

Another flight of missiles screamed in to chip away at the thick plating on the Marauder'supper carapace. The Lyran, exhibiting admirable fire discipline, paced his shots by alternately firing the Hellstar PPC and 5cm laser in the left weapon arm, then those in the right. The autocannon howled constantly.

Theodore, desperate to bring the Victorback into the battle, found that his neurohelmet was shattered beyond hope and that the autonomic feedback systems that allowed free play of the Victor'sarms were gone. He steadied his breathing, reaching for his hara.The faint voice of Tetsuhara– senseiwhispered in his head, Pain is a thing of the mind, and the mind is the servant of the spirit.

Hai, sensei. I will control my pain.He reached out with his shattered arm, watching the bone ends slide past one another as he straightened the limb. Clinically, he observed the fresh blood flow as his fingers tapped out the code to elevate the Victor'sright arm.

Through the shattered viewport, he watched the wide muzzle of the Pontiac 100 cant toward the sky, surprised to see the machine respond. His karma was good, then. He reached for the grip and depressed the firing stud.

Deep booming echoed through the cockpit as the Pontiac's cassette round emptied, sending 100mm shells tearing into the underbelly of the Marauder.The Lyran 'Mech jerked upward from the impact. Theodore fired again. One of the Marauder'slegs stiffened spasmodically as its myomer pseudomuscles contracted under a faulty command. Trailing smoke and sparks, the 'Mech collapsed onto the Victor.

Darkness filled the cockpit as seventy-five tons of incapacitated BattleMech crashed to the ground. Theodore sighed, releasing his control and letting the darkness fill his mind as well. Warm and welcoming, it caressed and took him far from the stink and heat of the battlefield.

Well done,said Tetsuhara– sensei's ghostly voice.

33

South Nantuo , Vega

Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine

Late December 3028

The soft susurrus of the military command center in the next room called Theodore from his foggy dreams. Awakening to the concerned faces of Ben Tourneville and Fuhito Tetsuhara, he tried to raise his right arm to wave them back. When his arm did not respond, he looked down to find it encased in a preserving sleeve. He also recognized the itch of peeling plastiflesh on his forehead. The memory of his last battle came back.

"The physicians say that you should recover full use of the arm, Tai-sa,"Fuhito assured him. "You will have a scar on your head, though."

"You must have complete rest," Tourneville insisted.

Theodore shook his head. While Steiner forces infested Vega, he could not rest. A samurai would never be kept from his duty by personal injury.

"There was some trouble with Heise and Nordica while you were unconscious," Fuhito said cautiously. "They did not understand your plan and wished to jeopardize it by running in different directions. Using her authority as your executive, Sho-saSakade has placed me in command."

"It is most irregular," Tourneville observed sourly.

"But has it worked?" Theodore asked, turning to Fuhito.

"I've tried to see that the spirit of your plans was followed, Tai-sa,"Fuhito answered with a shrug. "It's not for me to say if I have succeeded."

Typical Tetsuhara modesty. If Fuhito had not handled the situation, things wouldn't be so calm. Tomoe had done well to appoint him as overseer. Heise would not have accepted her, and no one else had enough experience in command to execute his orders. "Where do we stand with the Lyrans?"

"Your plan is a success, Tai-sa,despite this fellow's dabblings," Tourneville assured him. "We have split the Steiner forces, and our link-up with our forces from the west of the Trebason Mountains is complete. Our capture of Cochus will force them to rely on longer, overburdened supply lines. The Lyrans are in serious trouble.

"Second Legion and twenty of our conventional regiments are pushing most of the Third Lyran Guard and six of their armored regiments north toward the edge of Great Desert of Tears. They will soon have a sea of sand at their backs.

"Fourteenth Legion is leading another fourteen of our regiments against the remainder of the Third Guards under Leutnant-General Finnan. The Lyrans have four regiments of conventional forces with them. Their 'Mech force is fighting well, but even our non-'Mech forces are fighting excellently. The Lyrans are abandoning the Roccer-De Zerber line. We shall drive the invaders from Vega soon."

Theodore nodded. "Do you concur, Tai-iTetsuhara?"

"We have had successes, Tai-sa,and many of Commonwealth's forward supply depots have fallen to us during the advance. The Lyrans are facing the severe shortages that once were our lot. They are in trouble, but they are far from beaten."

"I see. Set up a full staff conference immediately. I want situation reports from all fronts for review. And send in Sho-saSakade."

Fuhito and Tourneville exchanged glances. Theodore narrowed his eyes suspiciously as Tourneville cleared his throat.

"Sho-saSakade encoded a message disk for you before she left."

* * *

"It's true, Leutnant-General Finnan. The Legion won't hit Roccer for another two weeks at least. The Fourteenth only has a skeleton force left along the Roccer-De Zerber line.

There're just three burned-out armored regiments on the front and a couple more in reserve."

The Steiner officers in the command hut exchanged skeptical glances. Kommandant Werner Jones stood to face the speaker. Leutnant-General Patrick Finnan had already reviewed what the Kuritan defector had brought with him. This session was for the command staff. Finnan let his security officer take the lead, approving of the hard stare Jones fixed on the Kurita Chu-i.

"How can we trust you, Leutnant Tourneville?"

The man he addressed rubbed his eyes, then ran his hand through his curly red hair. He was clearly tired from the interrogation session, but his manner remained composed, confident. He was still holding a card in the hole. "I don't expect you to take my word. You've seen the datadisks I brought. The Legion's in trouble. You people have got them on the ropes. I don't want to go down with them."

"So you sell them out?"

The Kuritan gave Jones a sour look and turned his attention from the security officer to the head of the table where Finnan sat. "Leutnant-General, I served the Combine like a good little soldier for ten years, but I opened my mouth at the wrong time to the wrong people and got sent to this hellhole of Vega. Five years here, watched all the time. I wanted out, but in case you ain't heard, nobody leaves the Legion on two feet. Your invasion was the first chance I had to run."

"You took quite a risk, coming across the lines," Finnan-commented.

"Sure it was a risk, but if I'd stayed with the Legion, I was a dead man when you attacked. They ain't got much longer, even if they can't see it. Well, I want to stay alive, so I've come to you."

"And we welcome prisoners, Leutnant," Jones said.

"I don't intend to be a prisoner," the Kuritan stated. "You haven't seen all the data yet."

"What do you mean?" Finnan asked, sensing that the man was ready to reveal his secret.

"Disk three, Leutnant-General. Put it in your computer and call up the 'Conference Gray' file."

"There is no such file on the disk," Jones scoffed.

The red-haired Kuritan smiled. "Don't be so sure, Kommandant. Call it up."

Jones didn't move until Finnan nodded his assent, then he retrieved the file. After scanning its contents, he announced, "It's the minutes of a staff meeting, sir. Colonel Kurita was wounded in our counterthrust at Cochus. He is recovering, but currently immobilized at an unspecified location, which the staff feels is underguarded."

"That," the Kuritan said triumphantly, "is my ticket off this hell-ball. You assure me of amnesty and a free ticket to the world of my choice, and I give you the location."

"We could force it out of you," Jones warned.

"What do you think you are? The ISF? By the time you break me, it will be too late to do you any good.

"Right now, the Combine leadership is confused and divided. General Heise wants to throw all their strength at First and Third Battalions, to take them out while the Legion is still strong enough to do it. Nordica wants to dig in and wait for reinforcements and supplies."

"They must have captured some of ours."

"Some, but not enough. You hid them too good. Tell me, Leutnant-General, have any of the Combine 'Mechs you've been fighting used any missiles lately? No? Didn't think so. They're hurting and you know it, Leutnant-General."

"Gentlemen and ladies, I think Leutnant Tourneville is on the level. All of our own data coincides with his story. It sounds as though the Legion of Vega is indeed on its last legs," Finnan announced with a predatory grin. "With the information that Leutnant Tourneville has brought us, and with Kincaid's forces distracting the Snakes' attention, we can launch a devastating attack at the Legion's rear.

"Leutnant, where did you say Kurita is?"

"We have a deal then?"

"We have a deal."

"Jalonjin. A mining camp about ten klicks outside of De Zerber."

"Near enough for us to mount a surgical strike and do what Heany failed to do on Marfik. Nagelring over Sanglamore as always," Finnan gloated, savoring the opportunity to succeed where a graduate of a rival service academy had failed. He beamed at his assembled officers. "Theodore Kurita and his Legion of Vega are in our hands."

Finnan stood and walked to the door to his office. Ignoring the assembled officers as they leaped to their feet and saluted, he spoke to the Kuritan.

"Come along, Leutnant Tourneville, I have some questions about the Legion's dispositions that I would like answered before I plan our attack."

* * *

"Roger, LCAF-hire Starsled,"CommTech Loris acknowledged. "Telemetry transfer complete. Prepare to receive gantry connections."

"Roger, Roccer Control. Standing by."

Loris directed his gaze out the Roccer control tower's main window. Twenty-five hundred meters away on the landing field the Lyran DropShip Starsledstood, still hot from atmospheric entry. Gantries rose from sheltered bays on the tarmac, skeletal fingers reaching for the spheroid shape. As he watched the tower probes enter the waiting recesses on the vehicle, the DropShip's pilot spoke again.

"Roccer Control, this is Starsled.Gantries locked in. Permission to commence unloading."

"Permission granted, Starsled.Welcome to Vega. We've been looking forward to your supplies."

The pilot started to ask for the latest groundside gossip, but Loris was distracted by a flashing priority signal.

"Hold on, Starsled.I've got a situation here."

Loris cut off the pilot and routed the priority signal to his station. His screen tagged the origin and flashed the alpha retransmission code that the Lyran command used to facilitate passage of messages from field units to the more powerful transmitter at the Roccer landing field. Roccer's communicators had the power to cut through enemy jamming and bounce signals off the planet's comm satellites. Loris listened to the message with increasing worry.

"Sir."

"What is it?"

"I've got a relay here for Leutnant-Colonel Kincaid on the Desert of Tears front. Leutnant-General Finnan is ordering him to retreat the First and Third Battalions of the Guard to orbit and prepare for a combat drop behind the Fourteenth Vegan Legion's positions north of De Zerber.

"What should I do?"

"Acknowledge the order, CommTech Loris," Theodore said.

"Sir, you don't want me to transmit Finnan's order.”

“Of course not," Theodore chuckled. "Acknowledge receipt of the order by Kincaid's command. Leutnant-General Finnan does not need to know that his order has been received by us instead of the intended recipient. Besides, it will assist us in our own plans if that is what he believes.

"Route any further transmissions through the Twelfth Legion's intelligence section. We will let the Lyrans believe they are still talking to each other."

* * *

"Take it easy, Leutnant. You've had a rough time."

"Had to get here, sir. Had to tell ..."

"You will," Brian Kincaid assured quietly. The leutnant's haggard, sunken eyes did not conceal the beauty of her Eurasian features. Kincaid submerged that thought. The leutnant was in rough shape from a run through the Kurita lines in a half-destroyed 'Mech. She needed a professional attitude from him, not a personal one. "Drink that coffee down. I've got time."

She shoved the offered cup away. "That's just it. You don't. We all don't!"

"What are you talking about?"

The woman paid no attention to the other officers. She searched Kincaid's face, her head moving back and forth in a tiny, disbelieving shake. "Then I'm it. The only one to make it."

She buried her face in her hands. Her body shook with breathy sobs. Kincaid felt it tremble under the hand he laid on her shoulder. As he hoped, she steadied under his touch.

"Tell me what happened, Leutnant."

"We were surrounded outside Jalonjin," she began, voice muffled by her hands. "Leutnant-General Finnan had taken in a Kurita deserter and listened to him. Planned an attack based on the scum's information. It was a trap. The Legion was waiting for us. We didn't have a chance.

"Finnan gave the order to break into pairs and fight our way out. Just before my team went out, his Atlascaught a barrage of Snake rockets. He ... he went down. I think he's dead."

Kincaid exchanged a worried look with his executive officer.

"Colonel Donovon took over. She seemed sure that we could beat the Dracs. Don't know why she was so sure. We was getting stomped.

"She ordered my lance out to make contact with you. It didn't make any sense to me. Last I heard the rest of Third Guard was fighting way up north. We went, though. We lost Chaney right away when we cut through the lines. Whitney bought it when we ran into a Kurita reinforcement column. Me and Bradley, my partner, kept going. We thought we were in the clear when a pair of Dragonscaught up with us outside of Halo. Bradley's Commandolost a leg, and the damned Snakes hunted him down after he punched out. They squashed him like a bug."

"Take it easy, Leutnant. Get on over to the barracks tent and get yourself some rest."