Malicious intent Read online

  With that little myth exploded, Tormano had to look at how the Jade Falcons benefited from the attack. Seizing Tharkad would take all the fight out of the Lyrans, to be sure, but the LAAF had not engaged in much cross-border activity. Nondi Steiner had concentrated on keeping the border quiet and on repulsing Jade Falcon incursions. She'd not struck back into Falcon space, and other than the Kell Hound operation a couple of years ago, Tormano knew of no strike launched from the Lyran Alliance into Clan-occupied territory.

  What concerned him more than the lack of motive for the drive was its target. Tharkad was a logical one, to be sure, but the Clans had never made any secret that the goal of the invasion was the prize of Terra. Whichever Clan took Terra would supposedly be elevated above the rest. That Clan would establish and administer a new Star League, with the Clan way as the model for humanity. Only ComStar's defense of Tukayyid had stopped them.

  Tharkad is not Terra. Tharkad would be a logical target if its capture would somehow put the Falcons closer to Terra or confer some other advantage toward taking Terra, but it would not. While bits and pieces of the Lyran Alliance did stand between the Falcons' most forward position and Terra, so did the Free Rasalhague Republic and a huge chunk of the Draconis Combine. Moreover, Tharkad stood one jump further from Terra than did Quarell. Traveling from Tharkad to Terra would bring the Clan troops along the Free Worlds League border, doubtless provoking action by Thomas Marik to protect his realm.

  Nondi Steiner had argued that the Falcons planned to cross the truce line, triggering war between ComStar and all the invading Clans. That would tie up ComStar's troops while the Falcons made an end run through the Lyran Alliance to Terra. That made sense in a way, but Tormano doubted that Nondi had hit upon their strategy.

  They aren't acting as they did when they first invaded.

  When the Clans first hit the Inner Sphere, they attacked, conquered, and held the worlds in their invasion corridors. In the current operation, the Jade Falcons landed on a world, beat the local defenders up, then departed. Unlike the initial invasion, they were defeating but not crushing, planetary defenders. The Falcons did take supplies from the worlds they hit, but less in the form of loot than in the way of an army living off the land through which it passed.

  Nondi's theory was that the Falcons abandoned the worlds they attacked because they knew they couldn't hold them. She cited performance reports showing the Falcons to be less effective than in the first invasion eight years earlier. Tormano considered such statistics to be unreliable at best and thus insignificant. The fact was that the Falcons had kicked around everything the LAAF had thrown at them.

  And just because he could see no logical reason behind the Jade Falcons' attack didn't mean there wasn't a good one. For all Tormano knew, the recently elected ilKhan could have decided that Terra was useless as a target and designated Tharkad in its place. The Jade Falcons could have won the bidding to be the Clan that took it. After it fell perhaps Luthien would be designated and targeted and so on until the whole of the Inner Sphere had been pieced out and picked apart.

  Tormano closed his eyes to ease their burning, but he could still see the pinpoints of light he'd been staring at before. Even though he couldn't grasp why the Clans were heading toward Tharkad, he couldn't ignore the fact that they were. The security of the Lyran Alliance capital was paramount, for if it fell, no defense against the Clans could be organized.

  He smiled. And having Clan OmniMechs marching around the Triad isn't my idea of a good time. Decades ago was the last time I gave any thought to piloting a 'Mech, and those days are best forgotten.

  Opening his eyes again, he punched up a request for troop availability and locations. He wanted to call to Tharkad the best and most loyal of the LAAF units. Any counterstrikes could be staged from there, and such units would fight fanatically in defense of their Archon and her home. When the Clan foray did finally get to Tharkad, it would progress no further.

  He made his selections and watched the mounting time it would take for the various ships to travel to Tharkad. Even in the best cases it would take two months for troops to arrive, putting them down approximately two weeks after the Falcons had attacked. While the delay was unacceptable, it was also inescapable—the laws of physics and the limitations of technology meant the fifteenth of April was the best he could hope for in terms of arrival of the force he wanted to defend the world.

  If I cannot speed them up, perhaps I can slow the Falcons down. Coventry was the next obvious target for the Jade Falcons. He estimated their arrival time there at a little over three weeks, putting them down on the planet in the middle of March. The difference between Coventry and the Falcons' other targets was that Coventry had three substantial 'Mech forces already present: the Coventry Donegal March Militia, the Tenth Skye Rangers, and the Coventry Military Academy Cadre. While the Academy Cadre used only outmoded 'Mechs for its training, the cadets would surely make up in enthusiasm what they lacked in arms. The Militia was a mixed unit, with armor and aerospace elements in addition to 'Mechs. The Rangers, while a misfit crew, looked good in holograph.

  With those three forces and the scattered personal guard units of the various nobles who made Coventry their home, the Clans would face a bit more resistance than they had so far. If the locals could hold out long enough, it would even be possible to drop reinforcements onto Coventry to further tie up the Falcons and perhaps make sure they never left the world at all.

  The troops I send to Coventry are going to have to be very good and capable of independent operation. I would send the Kell Hounds, but I doubt they'd even answer my request, despite being closer to Coventry than my other choices. The Eridani Light Horse were a mercenary unit with a history that extended back to the Star League, and a reputation that rivaled that of the Kell Hounds or Wolf's Dragoons. They had fared well in the fighting against the Clans' first invasion, and their presence near the Periphery could easily explain why the Falcons had looped around to their present attack vector. His figures showed they could arrive on Coventry in early April. If that were not early enough to engage the Clans on Coventry, the force could shadow the invaders and engage them on any other worlds they attacked.

  The second unit he wanted to employ was Wolf's Dragoons. Though all five regiments were on Outreach, the Dragoons had enough JumpShips to send at least two of their regiments to Coventry by early April. Because Tharkad lay on a direct line between the two points, the Dragoons could stay on Tharkad if the Coventry situation resolved itself prematurely or push on to another world to fight the Falcons.

  Bringing the other three Dragoon regiments to Tharkad would strengthen the defense of the world, but he wanted another unit that was more to his liking. Tormano knew that if the Clans did make it through to Tharkad, saving his life and evacuating him would be the last thing on the minds of loyal Lyran citizens. He could easily picture Katrina—if she made it back in time to see the world fall—exhorting her people to fight to the last for her, and he knew they would.

  And would ultimately blame the fall of Tharkad on me or, more likely, Victor.

  For that reason he would bring to Tharkad a mercenary unit that was personally loyal to him and would look out for his interests. For years he had paid them a retainer in case he should ever need them—either to fight for him or, more realistically, to engineer his escape if Thomas Marik or Sun-Tzu Liao had ever decided to have him killed. They were a competent unit with a good reputation, though their longstanding feud with the Dragoons still continued even though old Wayne Waco had retired. Putting the Waco Rangers together with the Dragoons on any world was a potential recipe for disaster, but the advantages outweighed the risk.

  Reaching back behind his neck, Tormano shoved his thumbs into the knotted muscles there. I'II have to run these troop adjustments by Nondi, but she'll approve them—as well as continuing the news blackouts from raided worlds. My actions will free her from having to worry about anything but direct action against the Falcons.

 
"I hope, Archon Katrina, your return brings with it good news. Actually, I hope it will be soon, good news or not." Tormano winced at the tightness in his neck. "It was not my aim, when I took this job, to preside over the death of the Lyran Alliance."

  21

  DropShip True Word

  Boonville, Kentessee Administrative District North America, Terra

  28 February 3058

  Precentor Lisa Koenigs-Cober tightened down the restraining strap holding her to the Quickdraw's command couch, then keyed her radio. "Is there a chance, Mr. Archer, that you can fly around those downdrafts instead of through them?" She kept her question light, but didn't let it become entirely a joke. The Leopard Class DropShip had bounced around rather severely.

  "Had I my choice, Precentor, I wouldn't be in the air right now. I could fly over this storm, but we're using the Lancers' beacon to bring us in on target."

  "Acknowledged." Lisa sighed, not for the first time on the trip. Evelena Haskell had requested her presence as observer in a final set of exercises that would prove the Twenty-first Centauri Lancers ready to assume their duty station and thus trigger the contract clauses that started their pay at a higher rate. Lisa had tried to get out of it, even going so far as to plead the need to requalify on a live-fire range in her Quickdraw before the end of the month. Haskell pointed out that the Lancers had just such a range set up and would put it at her disposal, eliminating her last excuse.

  Lisa finally agreed to join the Lancers outside Bowling Green, having realized that part of her reluctance came from the way her pride had been stung in the simulator exercises with the Lancers. She decided, without telling Haskell, that she and her lancemates would get additional qualifying out of the way by performing a combat drop into the live-fire range. She hoped that showing her skill at that would win back some of the face she'd lost when the mercenaries trounced her troops.

  The arrival of one of the worst winter storms in recorded history almost scrubbed her plan. Warm, wet Caribbean and Atlantic air had collided with an arctic air mass over the North American midwest, and pushed on toward ComStar's headquarters at Hilton Head. It had already dumped several meters of snow on either side of the Mississippi River, promising floods in the spring, and then barreled on toward the eastern seaboard.

  "I understand your reluctance to fly in this weather, Mr. Archer. Just try not to set it down too soon."

  "Sure." The pilot's sarcasm poured into Lisa's neuro-helmet with digital clarity. "It would be nice if I could just see where to put it down."

  The secondary monitor in her 'Mech's cockpit glowed white as Archer fed his external camera view to it. "It looks rather white out there."

  "Yeah, and three meters deep, too."

  "They've got a runway clear for you?"

  "I guess so. They've got the beacons set up. We'll go on automatic approach in ten minutes or so. We're about a hundred and a half kilometers out. Hang on."

  "Wilco."

  Archer laughed. "I've got four Lancer aerofighters coming in. Either they're nuts, or they need adverse weather training."

  Lisa smiled. "Follow them home, Mr. Archer."

  "Roger, Precentor."

  She punched a couple of buttons on her command console and shifted the view from the nose camera to the aerodynamic DropShip's radar. The storm clouds through which they were traveling created a lot of interference, but she could just make out four scarlet blocks marking the Lancers' TR-10 Transit fighters. They shot past the center of the screen, then came back around. As they pulled up onto the DropShip's tail, she expected them to move to the wings and out into the lead.

  Just as she wondered why they did not, the ship bucked.

  For a half-second she thought the DropShip had hit turbulence again, but the radar feed to the secondary monitor went dead. She almost ascribed that failure to the turbulence shaking loose her commline connection to the ship. She reconsidered quickly with the wet thwap of yellow-green coolant splashing against her 'Mech's cockpit canopy and the sudden addition of ragged patches of white where the 'Mech bay's black surface had been before.

  Turbulence is the least of my worries.

  Another tremor shook the ship, and the holes in the hull yawned open wide. The DropShip began to roll to the right and before she had time to react, it had inverted entirely. Wind howled through the 'Mech bay as the ship began to corkscrew in toward the planet.

  Lisa punched the radio on—it had been off previously to keep from interfering with navigation, but the fact that she could bring it up meant the computer lockouts had been disabled. As far as the silicon brain controlling her 'Mech was concerned, whatever she was in was no longer a functioning DropShip. Obviously the pilot thought so too. As he activated the emergency system, the cargo doors blew away, giving her people one final chance.

  "Get clear. Blast your way clear!"

  She stomped full with both feet on the jump jet pedals, igniting three silvery jets mounted on the 'Mech's torso. They filled the 'Mech bay with fire. Above their roar she heard the scream of metal as the restraining brackets tore loose. She pushed back and away with her 'Mech's arms, propelling her machine forward toward the white crevasse in the ship's side. She felt the scrape of armor on the edges of the fuselage, then the ship lurched and her 'Mech was flung free.

  The altimeter on the auxiliary monitor showed her elevation as two kilometers. Higher than most combat drops. Because her 'Mech was designed to use jump jets, it could support the stresses of landing from a jump. Normally that meant cushioning a descent of under a hundred meters, but in combat situations jumps from greater heights might be accomplished without serious damage to the 'Mech.

  At one klick she hit her jump jets and cut into the velocity of the fall. The burn slowed the falling 'Mech slightly and managed to orient it so it would hit feet first. The altimeter continued to count down, the numbers blurring as they ran.

  At two hundred meters she again stomped on the pedals and braced for impact.

  It's not enough to slow me down. I'm going too fast. A split second before she could panic, invocations that Com-Star used to teach its members flashed through her brain. On their heels came the regret that ComStar had abandoned its mystical training. Though utter nonsense, those prayers would have been more comfort than the cold, cruel logic of reality.

  She felt something hit the 'Mech and start it tipping toward the left a heartbeat before its huge metal feet smashed down into the ground. Inertia slammed her into the command couch so abruptly that she felt blood gush from her nose onto her upper lip. The restraining straps dug into her shoulders and waist as she rebounded against them and the 'Mech started to tumble.

  A world of white and gray and black whirled outside the 'Mech's cockpit. Hundreds of snow-demons beat against the Quickdraw's armored hide as it rolled. Thunder played through the cockpit, vibrating straight through to her spine. The tempo of collisions between 'Mech and earth rose and fell with no pattern she could discern, but with an intensity that made her think it might never end.

  She fought the temptation to fling the 'Mech's arms wide to slow the roll. The momentum of a 60-ton BattleMech in a losing war with gravity would snap an arm off in an instant. The fall from the DropShip and the landing were the worst of what she had to endure, so there as no reason to cause more damage to the 'Mech.

  The Quickdraw hit hard once again. From the spin imparted to the 'Mech she assumed its shoulder had hit an outcropping of rock. The 'Mech's feet slewed around and the cockpit began to rise, as if the 'Mech were being propped up like a giant puppet by an invisible hand.

  Then the collisions stopped.

  The 'Mech went through a long, lazy somersault that filled the cockpit with silence. Lisa gritted her teeth and grabbed the arms of the command couch with viselike grips. Part of her knew that, given the pace of the flight, the next collision would be minor, but that intellectual assessment found no purchase in her heart. This is going to be bad!

  The Quickdraw landed far more lightly than
she'd dared to hope and, to her surprise, she barely bounced up from her seat. When she looked up at the cockpit canopy, all she could see was white as snow slowly floated down to cover it. At the corners of the view through the canopy she saw dark gray masses. It took her a moment to realize that the 'Mech had landed on its back and that the gray represented the forested sides of the mountains that cupped the valley where she'd ended up.

  Or ended down more correctly. She flipped open the viewplate on her neurohelmet and pinched her nostrils shut with her left hand. With her right hand she punched a few buttons and ran system diagnostics on the Quickdraw. Come on, be mobile.

  The computer came back and indicated that, aside from being nearly out of jump-jet fuel, the 'Mech was in decidedly good condition. For a machine that just fell two kilometers through a blizzard. The roll had damaged armor all over the 'Mech, lowering its protective value anywhere from ten to twenty-five percent. But the legs and actuators had weathered the landing in good shape. The Quickdraw would still walk just fine, and had lost only about fifteen percent of its sprint speed.

  She flicked a switch and brought the weapon systems online. The computer showed them all functional with the exception of the SRM detachable launcher, which had detached during the roll. Lisa felt fortunate it had not exploded while still mated to the 'Mech's torso, though she did regret its loss.

  Bringing the Quickdraw up into a sitting position, she discovered that it was half-submerged in what had been a frozen pond. Looking back to the right she saw a ten-meter-wide swath of flattened pine trees disappearing beneath a blanket of snow. Coming down onto a slope, the 'Mech had hit a tree, then started to roll until it came to a big rock outcropping that stood at the top of a thirty-meter cliff that overlooked the pond.

  Lisa shivered. "I don't think I want to replay what my sensors recorded in that roll."