LE5739 - Falcon Rising, page 21
In some ways, she had never stopped being the newly blooded Marthe, thinking only of serving the Clan. No deed she had performed as warrior, no decision she had made as Khan, had applied only to her. Marthe could never think of herself as separate from the Clan. The well-worn phrase—I am Jade Falcon—fit her so well.
Yet the command process, from Star Commander to here, had chipped away at many of her beliefs. Learning to make decisions, learning to make compromises. Opponents had to be dealt with and problems had to be solved. And that is what she had done. Now she would deal with the Vipers, in her own way. Even as they tried to catch the Falcons off guard, they had sown the seeds of their own defeat. They had given her time to reflect, time to plan.
Over the centuries the Vipers had stuck in the craw of the Jade Falcons. That would change now. It would all end now.
* * *
On another DropShip, Samantha Clees was talking with Grelev in her quarters aboard the Blue Jesses, inbound to the planet Persistence. She had come to value his calm presence ever since he had first been assigned her aide on Iron-hold. She felt nervous, and as always when that happened, began to pace.
"I have to admire the Vipers for their boldness. The way they went after a whole string of our worlds more or less simultaneously."
"Thirteen, eh?" Grelev said. "They are not superstitious, these Vipers."
"They are no Nova Cats at least. I doubt they even bothered to count."
"That will be their bad luck then. And now we will counter with our own wave of attacks, quiaff?"
"That is as the Khan would have it."
"You are not sure?"
"Strategy is strategy. I will fit myself and my unit into it."
"But there are doubts?"
"Just apprehensions. The Vipers got the jump on us here in the occupation zone. It allowed them to solidify their position. We start at a disadvantage. Not an insurmountable one, but still a disadvantage. We are Jade Falcon and can handle it, especially under the command of a Khan with the spirit of Marthe Pryde."
Samantha strode from one end of her tiny quarters to the other. "The Crusader cause died on Strana Mechty, but I say the Falcons are still crusaders. This time Marthe is leading us on a crusade of her own."
Grelev looked puzzled and asked what she meant.
"In ancient days a crusader would do anything for the cause," Samantha said. "He would go to any destination where he thought the object of the cause resided and slay anyone in his path. He would lay siege to the holy city as long as he could, he would level it to the ground if need be. That is what I mean by a crusade. Marthe Pryde intends to make the Jade Falcons mighty again and to take control of the invasion corridor. She will annihilate the Vipers, at least those in the corridor, with the same ruthlessness the Inner Sphere showed in demolishing the Smoke Jaguars."
"Take no prisoners, burn the harvest, and clutter the killing fields."
"Something like that, whatever you meant. At the moment the Vipers have the tactical advantages and think they are on the way to winning it all. They will not. They cannot. Not as long as we have Marthe Pryde's zeal. I am a crusader, too. I believe in our Khan, and I believe we will prevail, even if the odds against us are great. Marthe Pryde has the zeal in her eyes and that, oddly enough, is our advantage, Grelev."
Grelev nodded. "We will follow anywhere she leads."
"Aye," said Samantha. "The Vipers, now that they perceive their narrow slice of the corridor as firm, have made at least one mistake. In their overconfidence, they have let us slip in without resistance. They have no idea we are on the way, so they are not expecting any response from us. They also did not anticipate that Vlad Ward would grant us safe passage through the Wolf Zone. How could they?
"In less than twenty hours we will be making our batchall to the Viper commander on Persistence, while the Khan leads an attack on Bensinger. With those worlds as a base we can sweep down through the corridor, hitting them at Waldorff, Zoetermeer, Sudeten, and others."
"You are confident, Khan Samantha."
"I am Jade Falcon. Of course I am confident. We have seen difficult days since the Refusal War, but now we are on the rise. I assure you of that, Grelev. We are on the rise."
30
DropShip Raptor Inbound, Bensinger System
Jade Falcon-Steel Viper Occupation Zone
4 June 3061
The spirits of Star Commander Joanna were also revived by the prospect of the invasion. Every day spent on the home-worlds and away from battle had been agony. Each night she had dreams in which she had finally grown too old, and that Marthe Pryde had reneged on her promise to allow her to return to the Inner Sphere as a warrior. When a warrior got as old as Joanna, not even the support of a Khan could ensure her warrior status. Even after she had beaten much younger opponents in training, Joanna still had the dreams, still I cared there was a chance she would be left behind.
One of Horse's running jokes had been that Joanna could always defect to the Nova Cats, where age was something of an advantage. "You might even become a Nova Cat Khan," he used to say. When the Nova Cats turned coat and joined the Inner Sphere, Horse dropped the joke.
This campaign may be my last chance, she thought as she lay in her bunk. She could abide these quarters that were more suited to a rat than a human. What she could not abide was the way the bunk felt littered with unexploded land mines. There are too many pains running up and down my arms and legs, too many neurohelmet glitches that give me such fierce headaches. If I were sensible, I would resign my commission gladly, but I am not sensible. If I have pain in every muscle of my body, if the blood coursing through my veins is being pumped erratically, if my head is enveloped in pain, I will go on fighting.
She thought back to the time when Ravill Pryde had tried to get her reassinged to a sibko nursery as nanny for newly hatched sibkin. Only the intervention of Kael Perhsaw had saved her.
This time, though, I will prove myself so well, so fiercely, that they will not dare try to reassign me. If they do, they will have to tie me to the back of a DropShip and drag me away.
* * *
In the BattleMech bay of the DropShip Starbird, Horse stood at the tip of his Summoner's giant feet and looked up. He especially liked this view. The foreshortening gave the 'Mech a look of mightiness that made even Horse draw breath.
He watched some members of his Trinary mill about in the DropShip bay. They were edgy, it was clear. Edgy in a good sense. They were ready for battle, itching to prove that this unusual unit of theirs could justify the Khan's faith in them.
Horse had spent little time in his quarters during the six-month voyage. He preferred to be here among his warriors.
Marthe had designated them as "The Khan's Irregulars." The unit consisted entirely of freeborns, some of whom had been with Horse on Huntress and some who were replacements for those who had died on that mission. They were skilled warriors who might have been persecuted in other units or relegated to garrison or second-line duty. But not now.
"Star Captain?"
Marthe had assigned Horse the temporary rank of Star Captain when she'd sent him and the Trinary to Huntress to investigate activities at the Falcon Eyrie outpost. After she had decided to keep the special unit, he had fought a Trial to retain the rank. He had succeeded easily, and felt a thrill of pride knowing that freeborns rarely, if ever, achieved Star Captain.
The voice invoked his rank again, and he turned. It was Pegeen, commander of one of the Trinary's Stars. She was a short, meek-looking woman who, more than most warriors, had to prove her fierce warrior instincts on a regular basis.
"Yes, Star Commander?"
"You looked so deep in thought, I wondered if you needed someone to talk to."
Pegeen had gradually become his unofficial second in command since the Trinary was formed. Amiable and perceptive, she had become a valuable asset to Horse.
"I was thinking, Pegeen, that we must not fail in the coming battles. We have more to prove than any regular unit. You can bet the trueborns will never let us live down any little failing they perceive, any combat humiliation. They are quiet now, ever since the Khan ordered the official designation of our unit for this campaign."
"But it is a fine challenge for us, quiaff?"'
"Aff. Since Diana won her bloodname, their grumbling and snide remarks seem to have diminished."
"True."
"And they will remain subdued—unless we fail. Then they will be on us like insulation on a myomer fiber."
"Diana herself is in the same boat, Horse. She has only won the bloodname. A significant achievement, to be sure, but her every action will be scrutinized minutely from here on."
"I know, even though she has proven herself in battle time and again in the past."
They paused, both of them staring up at the gleaming Summoner.
"Do you ever mind being freeborn, Horse?"
"How could I mind? It's what I am, quiaff?"
"Aff." Pegeen glanced away from the 'Mech. "I guess aff."
Another warrior ready for battle seethed in his cold and forbidding chamber on the Raptor. Ravill Pryde had tried to drink a fusionnaire to quiet his mind, but—like most drinks he had tried—it did little for him. He was not a warrior partial to drink. On the whole, few were.
My challenge to Diana's bloodname will never take place now, he thought. She has Marthe Pryde on her side. The tide will turn for me if this damned Diana succeeds in battle. My challenge will be remembered. My ristar status may evaporate. I will be just another warrior among many. I cannot abide that. Dying in battle would be preferable.
Not many Jade Falcon warriors thought in terms of ambition, but Ravill Pryde was not like most warriors. The anomaly was perhaps due to the injection of Wolf Clan genes into his sibko. The Wolves seemed to enjoy deviousness more than the Jade Falcons.
But Ravill knew he must accept whatever happened. If he had a chance to hurt Diana, outside of combat where they had to be allies, he would grab it. If he did not, if he were not to rise any further within the Clan, he would have to accept that also.
* * *
Sitting in one of the point-defense turrets that served as backup should the Raptor's fire control system go down, Diana's meditations were similar to those of Horse and Pegeen. She stared out at dim planets she could just make out in the distance, at flickering stars, at the fearsome darkness of it all, and felt like exactly what she was at that moment, a lonely warrior small in a little pustule on the side of a ship that, in the breadth of the surroundings, was itself a small physical imperfection.
Diana closed her eyes, shutting out the universe with the simple action. The tiny compartment was cold, since there was no need to heat it unless an attack developed, and probably not even then—the warrior who usually occupied the bubble would be too busy to care about personal comfort.
I can almost sense my father, the great Aidan Pryde, looking down at me from wherever in this stravag universe the spirits of heroes go.
She opened her eyes again. The universe was still out there, majestic and incommunicative. Now that I have the bloodname, many think of me already as the heir to his heroism. Heroism was how much of your life, father? She had only recently begun addressing his spirit in her mind as "father." How much of your life in actual time? I mean, you spent many of your warrior days in garrison units, doing mop-up work and simple guard duty. There was heroism in the battle that made you reveal that you were a trueborn, after all. The admittedly tainted heroism of your bloodname victory. The quick thinking during the battle of Tukayyid. The last few minutes on Tukayyid. Maybe a couple of other events that do not come to mind. If you added up the time for these acts of heroism, how much time would that be? A few hours? Maybe under an hour? How much time do I have?
In the part of the sky she examined, a star seemed to flare up. She wondered if it was an answer from her father, a mere random astronomical event, or only just an optical illusion.
31
Sibko Training Center 111
Kerensky Forest, Ironhold
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Space
27 June 3061
" Tell me more about the war."
Naiad's voice was shrill and urgent.
"I have told you the little I have heard," Peri said. "Not much news filters through to this sector, Naiad. The fighting is fierce and the Falcon reinforcements, led by the Khan, have won back a half-dozen planets. The Vipers were taken by surprise by the sudden appearance of the reinforcement army in the two-pronged assault on Bensinger and Persistence. The Falcon troops hit fast and took those worlds quickly, and with ease. The garrison troops the Vipers had left behind were not strong enough to defend against a Falcon attack. They were easy victories, causing minimal damage to the Jade Falcon forces."
Peri glanced around the abandoned barracks, where she and Naiad came to talk. Naiad was the only one of the sibko members who deigned to say much to Peri. Most of them resented her presence, as just another scientist picking them apart. On some of the visits here, Peri had straightened the bunks and swept the floor. Anything that was debris had been shoved into the general recycling unit a few meters away.
"And then?" Naiad asked eagerly. "Come on, Peri—and then?"
"Then the Khan won back our corridor capital of Sudeten, a crushing blow to the Vipers. With all our command facilities still intact there, the Sudeten victory won not only a world but many strategic advantages. Losses there were somewhat higher, but overall relatively light. A couple of units are out of action. It is said that the freeborn unit, the Khan's Irregulars, will be a part of the next bid. It sounds as though many warriors are fearful about that, but I know the commander of the Irregulars, and it would be a mistake ever to underestimate him. That is about all I can remember from the dispatches that have come into Training Center headquarters. Details were scant. We are, after all, pretty low on the information food chain, Naiad."
"You saying we're not important?"
"Not at all. Merely that there is a certain secrecy attached to this place and what is sent here is carefully monitored. And, Naiad, easy on the contractions, quiaff?"'
Naiad, who definitely did not like being criticized, frowned. "I'll say as many contractions as I want. When I'm around you anyway."
"But not around Octavian, quiaff?"'
"Right. He'd rip my skin off."
"As any good sibparent would."
"Stravag! I wish I could be in this war!"
"Your time will come."
"When I'm a warrior, we'll prob'ly have peace. I want to go now."
Peri smiled. How young this child is. And sometimes how old. I cannot remember Aidan at this age, but I am sure he was just as feisty, just as dramatic. The others are always reminding me of him also, but this Naiad is the most like him.
"It is time for me to return," Naiad said. "Octavian is already angry enough at me for breaking Dania's arm."
"I can see why. But it is early. You have several minutes yet."
"Something I gotta do first."
Naiad left the barracks abruptly, waving goodbye.
Peri was glad the child had left so early. She had something on her mind anyway. The guards were used to her now, and she needed to take a look at some records while the other scientists were in the field or in the commissary for the midday meal. The offices would be empty now. She had searched the place three times before and become familiar with the general routines.
* * *
Naiad stayed in the shadows and watched Peri pass by. Tracking her was easier than any of the other people at the training center. Octavian was the hardest. He admitted to having eyes in the back of his head, although Naiad had never seen them. They had to be there, though. He saw too much.
She had already noted how Peri, who did not mingle much with the others, acted mysteriously from time to time. Naiad saw her going to the main building again, the same place to which she had followed her a week ago.
She's a nosy one, this one. But she's beautiful, the most beautiful person I've ever seen. Ever. Of course, I haven't seen many people. And she does look like me but older.
* * *
Peri was gradually accumulating information about the project at the Training Center. However, since Marthe Pryde was off at war, there was little she could do about it.
What if something happens to Marthe? If she is killed in this campaign, who else even knows my mission? Samantha Clees. What are the odds of both of them being killed in battle? It could happen. Then I am stuck here, a spy without a control to report to. I would still work against Etienne Balzac.
Colm Harvey, the silent geneticist who seemed to be the workhorse of the cadre assigned to the Training Center, had a cubicle on one side of the large room that served as the main office for the scientific team. In this room, the scientists often met, sitting around the enormous mahogany table in its center, to share their research, which centered around the sibko being studied here. Peri was not allowed into these meetings. Balzac had saddled her with a low security clearance, which he had called a mere protective measure that would be lifted after a short time. It was as if he knew the real reason she had requested this assignment and, like a game, intended to set traps to catch her. The low security clearance meant she would have to explain her presence in any wrong place, such as her current presence in Harvey's cubicle.
Harvey had left little behind on his desk or anywhere to indicate what he was working on. Not that his current research would be of much importance to her, anyway. The subject of most studies was the activities of the sibkin, and were irrelevant to her purpose. She sought the secrets behind the studies.
She switched on the computer set on one side of Harvey's desk. Searching the computers was, she knew, a particularly dangerous act. If anyone found her at someone else's computer display, she had no clever excuses for being there. For that reason, she had a small but long-bladed knife secreted behind her back in a spine-holster.
