Текст книги "Falcon Guard"
Автор книги: Роберт Торстон
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18
Nobody knew the origin of the name Mudd Station. Before the Jade Falcons had taken it over, it was little more than an outpost constructed for some now-abandoned scientific study. Presently it served the Clan invaders' strategic purposes, with the addition of new landing areas, buildings, and the installation of a defense system.
Despite the improvements, Mudd Station was no more desirable a place than before. Every afternoon it was battered by a heavy rainstorm, whose downpour could knock to the ground anyone foolish enough to be out in it. The storm usually damaged some item whose repair took techs away from their main labors. Slogging around in the mud afterward, Aidan often wondered if the station's nearly continual ground condition had inspired someone to give the place its name.
The discomforts of Mudd Station did not, however, dampen his spirits. Each day brought new contingents for the Falcon Guards, new challenges, and new complications. DropShips seemed to transport as many problems as they did personnel. Not the least of these, in fact, was the personnel.
* * *
"Star Colonel, these are among the worst specimens of Clan warrior I have ever seen," Horse complained, as he and Aidan made their daily tour of Mudd Station. Their boots squished loudly with each step. "I wonder how anyone could ever justify the trashborn genetic programs with this bunch."
"Be careful, Horse," Aidan warned. "Let no one else hear your slurs. You are, after all, only here on my sufferance. You are the only freeborn in the Falcon Guards, and Kael Pershaw only made an exception when I referred him to your codex. That means you will have to toe the line even more than normal."
"Oh, I'll be your good little warrior, Aidan Pryde. But, to be effective, I must be honest with you."
"Please do. Just be sure that no one overhears. And I would suggest dropping the contractions. We need no unnecessary reminder of your origins among these warriors. We want to whip them into shape, not distract them with matters of less importance. They are already aggressive enough among themselves, but perhaps we can channel that energy into useful acts to restore the honor of the Falcon Guards."
Horse stared intently at Aidan. "This assignment has addled your brain. This unit is condemned, can't—cannot you see that?"
"Condemned to what?"
"I do not know what lies Kael Pershaw has poured into your head, but the scuttlebutt among the warriors and techs is clear enough. We all know that we are merely filling a slot here. There has to be a Falcon Guards, so there is one. But do not delude yourself into believing that we have some honorable goal before us. Have you not noticed the great number of old warriors assigned to us, individuals on the verge of ending their careers? That is your clue."
"You speak in riddles," Aidan said impatiently. "We are getting older warriors for one simple reason: they are among the few warriors available for reassignment."
"Is that what Kael Pershaw told you? He masks at least half his motives in the same way that he does his face. We are getting older warriors because Khan Chistu is not really concerned with our fate. If any unit was formed to be cannon fodder, solahma,it is the present Falcon Guards. They expect little of us, we are considered a dezgraunit, don't—do you not see that?"
Aidan stopped in his tracks, glanced around, then signaled to Horse to follow him to where no other Clan warrior could hear them. "Of course I know Khan Chistu is willing to write us off, Horse. He would not intentionally send us to our deaths, but he would not mourn us as trothkin lost if it happened. But you know as well as I that this is my only chance to achieve something as a Clan warrior. The Falcon Guards have been promised front-line duty. Kael Pershaw even put it in writing, and for all his devious qualities, you can trust Kael Pershaw's word. We are included in the bidding for Tukayyid. We will fight there."
"Is that what all this is about for you? Personal glory? All that contribution to the gene pool bilge that you and your—"
Aidan grabbed Horse by the shoulders. "I know what you think about Clan ways, Horse." Aidan's voice was unusually tense. "But yes, I do seek personal glory. Yes, I do wish my legacy to pass into the gene pool. Yes, I want my contribution to this invasion and the Clan goals to be both exceptional and honorable. Whatever errors my nature has led me to commit in the past, I am a Clan warrior and intend to do my part to help the Clans gain dominion over the worlds and people of the Inner Sphere. If you cannot understand because you are freebirth, then try to—"
Horse broke Aidan's grip and returned his stare with equal intensity. "What is happening to you, old friend?" he said softly. "You never call me freebirth. And you are the only trueborn I have known who never has."
"I am sorry, Horse. A slip. I was one of you once, remember."
"No, you posed as freeborn. But you were never one of us."
Aidan heard the touch of scorn in Horse's voice. "I do not wish to offend you, Horse. There has been too much between us over the years. My only wish is to succeed as commander of the Falcon Guards. If you can try to understand that, perhaps you will be able to forgive the means I use to achieve my aim."
Horse nodded. "Of course I do."
"As for the freebirth business, need I remind you that you call me trashborn on a fairly regular basis?"
Horse shook his head. "No. I call your caste trash-born. Not you. There is a difference."
"Maybe, maybe not. Let us leave it at that. As you say, our task is to make good warriors of those who are not exactly the best specimens of the type. And, Horse, I appreciate your struggle not to use contractions. Keep at it."
As they walked toward the others, Aidan thought of the many passages he had read in books in his secret library. So many stories of friendship, comradeship, between two individuals fighting for the same side. The way of the Clan, however, put service to the group above individual alliances. Yet Aidan had always known that he and Horse were just like the characters in those old tales of the Inner Sphere.
19
The codex of Star Commander Summer Mandaka was filled with notations of insubordination. How she had survived this far without some commander simply shooting her to get rid of her was a mystery to her new commanding officer. When Aidan observed her skills at manipulating a BattleMech and the growling, rude way she whipped her Star—like all the new Falcon Guards, a collection of misfits, lowlifes, and aged warriors—into shape, he realized that her bad manners disguised a supreme officer.
That did not make her any easier to take.
Summer Mandaka was of average height, with short chunky arms and a thick neck bulging with thick veins. She was fair-haired, with chiseled features and a permanently angry expression in her eyes.
Now she stood before Aidan, her body trembling visibly with anger, if that was the right word. Wrath or fury might better describe her defiant stance.
"Star Colonel, I must speak with you."
"Speak your piece, Star Commander."
"I realize that I am now a member of the Falcon Guards because I have erred in the past. The worst of my errors is having lost a string of BattleMechs in recent battles. You have seen my codex. I have been chastised for a tendency toward waste. But if so, it is waste in the service of the Clan."
"Most Clansmen would not accept your reasoning, Star Commander."
"I realize that. I have vowed never to lose another 'Mech, unless I lose my own life with it. For that reason, I have disabled the ejection seat of my Hellbringer."
"That is allowed, though I must advise you that I do not consider it a wise move."
"I take the implied criticism as well-intended, Star Colonel, but the reason I tell you of my vow is that I fear I cannot successfully live up to it with my present Star. Each one of them is sorely lacking in skill, yet not willing to train for their betterment. I have never viewed such insubordination."
How ironic, Aidan thought, that a warrior famed for her own intransigence should grouse at the same characteristic in others. He must conclude that either she was turning over a new leaf or that her crew of misfits was extraordinarily incompetent.
"Insubordination is a problem for officers at every level, Star Commander. Why do you speak to me about it?"
"Sir, I know that personnel is stretched thin in the Falcon Guards. The pool of warriors for reassignment to a new unit is not wide. And no untainted warrior would ever volunteer for duty with the Falcon Guards."
It was all Aidan could do to keep himself from wincing at her use of the word untainted.Taint was the one concept he wanted to purge from the Falcon Guards, yet it seemed to be the one word none of them could escape.
"I must declare a Trial of Grievance with MechWarrior Rollan. He has agreed. His anger is equal to mine. You must serve as Oathmaster."
Aidan racked his mind for the proper Trial of Grievance procedures. In his previous commands such disputes had been handled without formalities.
"It is my duty to hear arguments from both of you about why the Trial of Grievance must take place."
"Of course, Star Colonel. MechWarrior Rollan and I await only your word about when the interrogation will take place."
"I gather that the two of you are already avoiding contact, as dictated by Clan tradition."
"That is correct, sir."
"And you have decided the nature of the trial?"
"We have agreed on BattleMech combat in a properly defined Circle of Equals. No bidding was necessary."
"All right then. We will begin procedures immediately. "
Mandaka made to leave, then turned back again. "Actually, sir, there is little point in going through the procedures. The trial will take place."
Aidan sighed. "I am sure it will, Star Commander. I am sure it will."
* * *
Aidan soon learned that, as Star Commander Summer Mandaka had said, no peaceful resolution to the dispute was possible. Mech Warrior Rollan was just as adamant as his superior officer about the need for a Trial of Grievance. During the interrogation, each responded to Aidan 's questions with terse but polite answers. Aidan then ordered the Circle of Equals drawn in a clearing outside of Mudd Station.
As Oathmaster, he gave final instructions to the two combatants, who glared fiercely at one another throughout the ritual. When he gave the order for them to mount their 'Mechs, the eagerness of their response would have honored any warrior in battle.
Before engaging in combat, each combatant had to take a position equidistant from the other on the borders of the circle. In fact, they would be so far apart at the start that neither could gain a visual on the other.
Horse joined Aidan in the command post's upper levels. Arrayed around them were instrument panels and monitors for viewing the combat.
The other Falcon Guards arrayed themselves around a central holotank in the lower level of the command post. Battle cameras from an overhead aerospace fighter beamed a direct transmission to the tank. When the two 'Mechs reached the approximate center of the Circle, the spectators would have a god-like view of the battle.
While waiting for the two 'Mechs to engage, Aidan looked down at those Falcon Guards he could see. The sight gave him an overpowering urge to close his eyes. What he saw were surly so-called warriors whose uniforms were mud-spattered despite Aidan's regulation that they must wear clean uniforms except during exercises.
How did he imagine ever accomplishing anything significant or honorable with this bunch of misfits and chalcas?Kael Pershaw had been right about the formidableness of the task. Perhaps Horse had also been correct that they were doomed from the start. Perhaps this was a military unit not intended to succeed.
No, that made no sense. What kind of high command would order the reformation of a unit merely to kill it off? Even the Clan's use of old warriors as solahmadid not justify the trouble his leaders were taking to revive the Falcon Guards. Aidan Pryde might be dispensable, but the Falcon Guards were not.
When Summer Mandaka's Hellbringerwas the first 'Mech sighted, a desultory cheer went up from the spectators. One warrior, whose patch showed him to be a member of Mandaka's Star, reached out his arm to display a thumbs-down gesture. Well, Aidan thought, that tends to verify her claim that her Star is insubordinate. Her BattleMech was shiny and well-kept, except for the gobs of mud that had already collected on its feet.
When MechWarrior Rollan's 'Mech, less pristine, more muddy, came over a hill, Aidan reflected that it was a Timber Wolf,like his own, but with no curse attached. So far, though, Aidan had piloted his Timber Wolfwithout incident. Perhaps whatever jinx was on it would not affect him.
Aidan did not believe in jinxes. It was a pilot's skill, or lack of it, that counted. He liked his Timber Wolfalready and longed to take it into battle. After so many years of garrison assignments, he anticipated frontline duty with more eagerness than some young warrior who had just won his Trial of Position.
Aidan had known many Trials of Grievance in his career—as supervising officer, as spectator, as combatant– but rarely had he seen one as quick or fierce as this between Star Commander Summer Mandaka and MechWarrior Rollan.
Summer Mandaka took the initiative, her Hellbringercoming at MechWarrior Rollan's Timber Wolfwith a determination that looked almost as mean as its pilot. Firing the pair of large lasers in her 'Mech's left arm, she stitched a precise pattern on the Timber Wolfschest, the deep lines crossing other deep lines in its armor. The MechWarriors standing around the holotank looked at each other with a bit of surprise. It seemed that the Star Commander had chosen a non-standard configuration of weapons for her Hellbringer,one that Rollan might not be ready for.
But MechWarrior Rollan was quick to respond. The first cluster of long-range missiles from his left-torso mount went in high and a bit off, doing no more than chip off a big piece of the Hellbringer's,searchlight. He was luckier with a second salvo, the missiles going in low to completely disable the knee of Mandaka's 'Mech.
Grinding her 'Mech to a halt, Summer Mandaka did not let up for an instant on her attack. Aidan saw now that she had reconfigured her 'Mech's right arm, replacing the Hellbringer'susual PPC or autocannon with a Gauss rifle. Firing the weapons, she hit her opponent's chest with the silver streaks of the Gauss projectiles. The Timber Wolfmoved forward, but uncertainly. Its movements reminded Aidan of staggering.
With one 'Mech unmoving because of the lucky leg hit, and the other severely damaged and progressing in fits and starts, it was obvious that it was only a matter of time before one or the other would fall.
For the next several minutes the two BattleMechs went at each other with all they had, neither one able to finish off the other, all the while inflicting brutal damage with an almost continual exchange of fire. At one point it looked as if the Hellbringermust surely fall as the Timber Wolf'slast missile salvo nearly exposed the other 'Mech's fusion engine. Still using both her Gauss rifle and her large lasers, Mandaka suddenly forced the Timber Wolfto retreat a few steps. Aidan wondered if she knew what she was doing. Her heat levels had to be approaching the limit.
Then the battle was over almost before anyone knew it. What Aidan thought was probably the last of Mandaka's Gauss projectiles must have made a critical hit against the Timber Wolf.The Wolfhad begun to tilt over backward, but the 'Mech did not quite fall.
Aidan was ready to intervene using his right to end the combat and declare Summer Mandaka the victor, when he realized that she was not yet out of Gauss ammo.
As the Timber Wolfswayed on its feet, its remaining weapons firing wildly, ineffectively, Mandaka fired one more time, the shot from the twin lasers hitting her opponent's cockpit dead-center. Its canopy exploded outward, instantly killing the pilot.
Then the Hellbringer,its heat capacity overextended, also exploded. Flames leaped to the sky from the specially designed blowout panels in the back of the 'Mech as the missiles stored in the right and left torso went up. The force of the explosion rammed the 'Mech face-down to the ground, crushing the cockpit and Summer Mandaka.
Beside Aidan, Horse remained for a moment, still staring ahead in disbelief. "Was it suicide?" he said. "She had to know she was overheating when she fired that last shot. Why did not the autoeject mechanism function—"
"She could not eject," Aidan told Horse, then explained that Mandaka had disabled her ejection seat. "She said she could not survive one more lost 'Mech. She meant it."
"So it seems."
"At any rate, we are now short a Star Commander and a MechWarrior, with no pool of unit reserves from which to draw. I believe it is my privilege to request replacements from what is available on Quarell. I do not care how you do it, Horse, but I want Star Commander Joanna and that other MechWarrior—I think her name is Diana, the one from the Vreeport debacle—transferred to the Falcon Guards immediately."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Horse walked away, muttering. Aidan knew what his friend was thinking. It was enough that they must somehow form up a band of misfits, warriors who could barely get along with one another, and now Aidan was asking for more trouble. No love had ever been lost between Joanna and Horse, but he knew Joanna was good. Horse had to give her that. Joanna was good.
20
Joanna hated the idea. "Consider my position," she said. "I was transferred from the Falcon Guards as one of the marks of the unit's failure, and then I was demoted, which I thought was the worst thing that could ever happen to me as a Clan warrior. Even worse than being a falconer wiping the backsides of your stravagsibko. Now I am back in the Falcon Guards, and it is worse than leaving it."
"But will you become the Guards' falconer?" Aidan asked.
"Do I have a choice, Star Colonel? If I remember correctly, you are the commanding officer. I must follow your orders, quiaff?"
"Not in this case. I am asking you to volunteer."
Joanna stood at the window of Aidan's office, looking out at the drilling catastrophe that was the Falcon Guards' calisthenics. She turned and twisted her face into what was perhaps intended as a smile. In a flash of memory, Aidan recalled seeing her in just such a pose when she had been a falconer years before. Time had not been kind to Joanna, but her poise and posture were as youthful as ever.
"I volunteer, Star Colonel. We old warriors are grateful for any kind of assignment, you know. When do I start?"
"How about immediately? Start with the calisthenics, if you wish."
She nodded. "Good a place as any, I expect. Dismissed?"
"Dismissed."
At the door she stopped. "Oh. Your permission to assign MechWarrior Diana as my, well, aide in this. Nobody out there knows either of us, so there will be no past histories to interfere."
"She is inexperienced and a freeborn."
"But she is as tough as fusion-engine shielding. You will see."
"You may use any personnel in any way you wish, Star Commander Joanna."
After she was gone, Horse pushed away from the wall, where he had been observing the encounter.
"What was that all about?" he asked. "Do I detect some clever strategy on your part?"
Aidan cleared away a pile of papers at the corner of his desk, then sat down on the clean spot. Looking at his friend, he saw that Horse, too, was beginning to show age. In any other unit, the two of them would have been the old warriors. But compared to the overage warriors they had been sent for the Falcon Guards, Aidan and Horse were still young.
"If I have a strategy, it is simply that I need someone who can whip these malcontents into shape. That is Joanna's special talent, and I intend to use it. That is what leadership is all about, Horse, using one's personnel effectively. "
Horse opened his mouth to retort, but they were interrupted by the sounds of a scuffle outside. Aidan moved quickly to the window, with Horse close behind. The sight that greeted them was one of their malcontent warriors on the ground a few meters from the window, grimacing as he rubbed his jaw. Joanna stood over him. Several warriors looked on, various degrees of surprise on their faces.
"Looks to me like Star Commander Joanna has begun her task," Horse commented drily.
For the next hour Aidan abandoned command duty for the sheer pleasure of watching from his window as Joanna conducted the drill session. She and MechWarrior Diana weaved among the warriors, prodding them to speed up or to better execution or to simply remain standing when they looked ready to drop from exhaustion. Several instances of defiance occurred during the first few minutes of the exercise, but the pair of drill instructors had countered each incident with a physical response. Several old warriors were easily decked; others had to be fought more craftily. But in each case Joanna or Diana prevailed. They had the advantage of determination as well as of having maintained their own regimens; they were simply in much better shape than any of these aging or scruffy warrior-misfits. By the end of the hour, this particular Trinary of Falcon Guards was actually beginning to show some precision in its group movements. Joanna immediately ordered another Trinary to assemble in the drill zone.
Satisfied that Joanna was carrying out her mission efficiently, Aidan began to study MechWarrior Diana more intently. Something about this young woman, who reminded him more and more of Marthe, intrigued him. It made no sense, of course. He must certainly be turning a slight resemblance into something more. But it was not only that the young warrior looked like Marthe; she moved a bit like her, too. What's more, she showed exactly the kind of skills that had been Marthe's specialty. Only her recklessness was a contrast. Marthe had been methodical, meticulous. Diana's hotheadedness was more like Aidan than Marthe.
Well, he thought, Clanspeople of all castes could resemble one another. Was there not a saying that everyone had his or her twin on some Clan world? Sometimes it seemed quite possible.
Joanna felt exhilarated for the first time in years.
"You know what it is?" she said to Diana. "It is power. I have always craved power. I was meant to be at the highest levels of command. Only circumstance has kept me from it. Your father has given me a chance to—"
"Please. Never refer to him as my father. If anyone heard—"
"If anyone heard, they would not care, nor would they believe it. Why be so obsessed by the fact? No one else would. Your father himself would probably treat the information as no more than a curiosity. It is not as a daughter that you must strive to impress him. Impress him as a warrior.And now be silent. I have much work to do."
As ordered, Diana spoke no more.
* * *
Over the next days, Joanna began to post so many rules about nearly everything that the grumbling from the barracks seemed to became part of the night sounds of Mudd Station.
But her rules brought results. Formerly filthy MechWarriors suddenly began to appear at musters clean and in immaculate outfits. Personal weapons drills led to high scores. In marches, left feet tended uniformly to contact ground followed by the simultaneous movement of right feet. Aidan knew from watching the marching drills that Joanna's success was phenomenal. None of the warriors had been in a close-order march since cadet training. How she had terrorized them into it he did not know, nor did he care.
Her real triumph, however, was the 'Mech drills.
At the beginning of them, she had delivered a long, scathing oration on how most of the warriors had lost sight of their place in the Clan and what the Clan should mean to them.
"Individuality, that is your curse," she screamed at them. By this time, they were surprisingly docile whenever she raised her voice. "You know who believes in the promotion of the individual at all costs? The warriors of the Inner Sphere, that is who. They have weakened themselves with just that sort of degeneracy. They scheme. They employ vicious trickery. They believe in personal glory. Heroes are valued. And do you know what happens? They become reluctant to take the necessary risks, the ones that might endanger their lives, because they have begun to think their personal existence matters more than the goal for which they are fighting.
"Their kind of hero separates himself from the others and attempts to prevent any tarnish to his reputation. Suddenly it is better to hold back and let someone else fight the battle. Suddenly there are more heroes in the rear than at the front. Is that the kind of hero you all want to be?"
"No? Yet each of you seems to have developed personal styles, quirks, and idiocies. But it is not differences, individuals, that are the way of the Clan. Do you forget the cause that has governed our lives since any of us emerged from the iron womb? It is the cause that must be our beacon. In this war with the Inner Sphere, it is the Clan that must prevail, not the individual in battle. Each time you destroy an enemy 'Mech, it is for the Clan, not for your personal glory. Anyone who is not willing to die for the Clan is not truly a warrior."
"You have transformed yourselves into individuals. I intend to make you Clan warriors again. Do you wish to be Clan warriors?"
"Seyla!"
"Ah, I thought so. Then get off your spreading behinds and do as I tell you. Exactlyas I tell you."
If a few recalcitrant warriors still resented Joanna, the others brought them back into the fold. Soon the Falcon Guards were operating with more precision. But Joanna insisted on more, and she got it. And what Joanna could not get, Diana did. The two warriors savaged the new Falcon Guards and then revived them. Which was exactly what Aidan had ordered them to do.
* * *
Joanna came into Aidan's office one day. "Go to your window, Star Colonel," she said.
Looking out, he saw the entire Falcon Guards on the field, all the pilots in their 'Mechs, all the Elementals in their battle armor. MechWarrior Diana stood on a recently constructed platform. At a signal from Joanna, she gestured toward the assembled troops.
In almost a single precise movement, all the BattleMechs, all the Elementals, raised their left arms to a chest-high position. This was followed by the right arms, which went past the chest position and raised up, stopping at an oblique angle, all of them in approximately the same position. Then each arm was lowered separately.
At the next signal from Diana, each of the BattleMech torsos inclined first to the right, stopped simultaneously, then in synchronization, inclined to the left. After holding the pose for a moment, all the BattleMechs returned to the upright position.
These were just the beginning of nearly an hour of precise drills, sometimes just the BattleMechs, sometimes just the Elementals. At the end, they formed into marching units and left the field in a precision drill.
Aidan, who had been spellbound by the demonstration, finally turned to Joanna and said, "I am impressed. But just what in the name of Kerensky was happening there?"
"Well, in one sense, you have just witnessed the universe's first BattleMech calisthenic drill. In another, you have seen I have done my job. You can go into battle with some confidence in the Falcon Guards. They are still a bunch of aging or eccentric warriors, but they are now a unit. Sir."
"I have seen your work over the last two weeks, Star Commander. I have known for some time that your mission was a success. And in good time, it seems. Our orders are to proceed to Tukayyid in two days. I appreciate what you have done, Joanna."
Joanna did not acknowledge either the credit or the familiar use of her name. As usual, Aidan could not be sure what she was thinking. She probably hated him as much as ever.
"At the beginning of this," he said, "you did not think much of my plan. What do you say now?"
"The plan was chancy, but it worked."
"Thanks to you, Star Commander."
"That is also true."