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  She blushed. “I am sorry. I do not know why I blurted that out.”

  Alaric reached up and slipped his fingers into her hair. “I do.” He drew her to him and kissed her softly.

  She pulled back, breathless, licking her lips. “Why?”

  “Because we are very much alike. We are both captives. We are both in thrall to Anastasia, and that fact unites us. It binds us in a way no others are bound.”

  He kissed her again, then pulled her across the pillow. Lips crushed against lips, breath came heavy and hot. She caressed his cheek, then jerked her hand away, but he drew it back. He let her explore the wound with her fingertips, and then she kissed it, softly, gently, and cast away the pillow separating their bodies.

  They wanted each other and needed each other. They understood each other in ways no one else could. Clothing was discarded and flesh ground against supple flesh. Mouths explored, fingers caressed, breath caught until released in sighs, moans and whispers. Sometimes they used words, other times just sounds or touches, their bodies moving together, soon slicked with sweat.

  Minutes passed as hours, each detail etched in his memory. How she felt, what she sounded like, her scent. Little smiles and the glint of her eye, the way a stray lock clung to a sweaty cheek, or the way she blew another lock out of her eyes. Her kisses, the scrape of her teeth, the raking of fingernails over his flesh and the softness of her skin beneath his caress.

  They enjoyed one another for hours with the desperation of people engaging in the forbidden, and the urgency of those who know such an act of sharing and unity would not come again. It had the wonder of novelty and the sadness of finality. Even as Alaric embraced it, he could feel it slipping away. He hugged her closer, feeling her trace patterns in the blond hair on his chest.

  She kissed his left nipple, then laid her head on his breast. “I can hear your heart.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Hardin would not think I have one.”

  She rolled onto his chest and looked into his face. “I know I will probably never see you again. From here we will be split up. Anastasia has assigned the Djinns to—”

  Alaric pressed a finger to her lips. “Say nothing.”

  She nodded. “Operational security, you are right.”

  He laughed. “No. I know Anastasia. I know where she will send you.”

  “But she will never have her Wolf Hunters and my Djinns fight on the same world. After tomorrow, I will never see you again.”

  “Nothing is impossible.” He caressed her cheek. “We have a bond. We are united. Nothing will sunder that.”

  “I know, but we will never again be as we are—vulnerable, wounded, salving each other’s hurts.”

  He thought for a moment, then nodded. “But if we are never again vulnerable or wounded, would that be so bad?”

  Verena shook her head and smiled. “Not at all.” She kissed him. “Again, just once more. More memories for those alone moments.”

  He nodded.

  23

  DropShip Jaeger, Unukalhai

  Former Prefecture IX, Republic of the Sphere

  20 February 3137

  Alaric relished the look of surprise on the face of Donovan’s hologram when Anastasia introduced him as her aide. The hologram glanced down at Alaric’s wrists, but he’d clasped his hands behind his back to deny Donovan a simple way to understand what had happened. He smiled easily as the hologram’s eyes came back up.

  “It is good to see you looking well, Alaric.”

  “And you, Donovan. You have conquered two worlds.”

  “Three, actually.” Donovan glanced at Anastasia in the middle of the holotank. “We crushed the last of the resistance here at midnight, planetary standard time. The civilian government—after some changes—has conceded control to us, and we have, in turn, appointed them the interim government pending the arrival of our garrison authorities.”

  Anastasia nodded as the tableau shifted around her to a representation of the local solar system. Two more Clan DropShips were speeding in toward Unukalhai and would arrive a day before the Jaeger and its companion. “I assumed as much when I saw your ships heading in. So, this will be a Trial of Possession, quiaff?”

  “Aff. I will be defending with five Stars. Three are BattleMech Stars, one heavy, two medium. A Star of combat support vehicles and one of elementals completes my deployment.”

  Alaric frowned. That was a considerable force. While Unukalhai was valuable for its industrial output, it really wasn’t worth contesting so strongly—especially in light of the fact that the Wolves would be abandoning it when they moved laterally into the Lyran Commonwealth. If Donovan had a strategy, Alaric was not seeing it.

  Anastasia nodded solemnly. “You present me with a problem, Star Colonel.”

  “That was my intention, Colonel Kerensky.”

  She rubbed a hand over her throat. “I have two ’Mech companies with me, only one heavy, the rest medium and light. I have four companies of armor and artillery, two of infantry, but one of those is militia.”

  Donovan smiled. “I hesitate to further complicate your life, Colonel, but the Kalhai militia has retained its arms and is planning to defend the world against invasion. We have told them to stand down, and I expect that order to be obeyed, or there will be consequences. Still, you could find this an inconvenience.”

  “I appreciate your warning us, Star Colonel.” Donovan smiled openly. “Shall I consider your force inventory to be your bid?”

  “I will need some time to refine my bid, if you do not mind. An hour or so?”

  “Very good.” Donovan hesitated, then held up a hand. “Colonel, I will withdraw a medium ’Mech Star from my force in return for a concession on your part.”

  She shook her head. “My forces are limited, Star Colonel.”

  “This will not limit them further, I assure you.” Donovan glanced at Alaric. “If I defeat you, I take possession of Alaric.”

  Alaric’s guts turned inside out. No, you cannot!

  Anastasia smiled. “I will take your offer into consideration. An hour, Star Colonel. Kerensky out.”

  The holotank went dark, then the room’s lights came up. Anastasia looked at Alaric. “It would seem you have a friend.”

  “You cannot be considering his offer.”

  “If he wishes to surrender a Star of ’Mechs in the hopes of getting his paws on you, who am I to tell him he is insane?” She clapped her hands once, then looked over at her subordinate, Captain Liam Horet, as he strode across the room. “What have you learned about the situation on the ground?”

  The big man shrugged his shoulders. “Less than I would have liked, Colonel. The local government was an uneasy coalition between conservative and hyper-reactionary forces, the latter having gained more support as fear over the world’s future spread. When the Wolves arrived, two sets of negotiations took place. The duly elected prime minister bargained for the defense of the planet. The reactionaries, known as the Forever Party, staged a mutiny within the planetary defense forces. The prime minister resigned, his hard-line rival was appointed in his place, and after a fight to wipe out the last loyalists, the Wolves were declared victors.”

  Anastasia frowned. “The FP is claiming they limited the damage the Clans inflicted and promising to keep everyone safe as long as no one challenges the Wolves?”

  Liam nodded. “That is exactly what seems to be going on. We have no direct confirmation of that since the FP’s supporters took control of the planetary media—including the GIN outlets. Baron Saville will not be pleased.”

  Anastasia snorted. “I am certain he will spin it all into good news.”

  “He will have his work cut out for him. The media outlets are all broadcasting civil defense messages urging calm and support of the Wolves, who will keep them safe from marauding mercenaries and foreigners. It does not help that we have the militia from Atria with us. In the last prefecture soccer championships they beat the Kalhai United team four to zero to win the Ni
ne Cup. The Kalhai still take that loss very personally.”

  Anastasia closed her eyes. “People see sport as a surrogate for war and take it far too seriously. Hatred should be reserved for things that truly matter.”

  Captain Horet opened his hands. “You have no argument from me, Colonel, but that is the political environment we will be dropping into. As for the force matchups, we would stand roughly even now in a straight fight. His eliminating a ’Mech Star would give us a slight edge. With terrain working for us we can hurt him, drive him off.”

  “I concur.” Anastasia opened her eyes again and glanced at Alaric. “Your assessment of Donovan?”

  “He fights by the numbers. He is willing to risk all because the government is behind him. I would assume he has locals loading the ships.”

  Liam nodded. “Looking at a listing of the corporations whose output he will be taking and comparing it to a list of the conservatives who are now out of power, you can see that they are the ones suffering big losses.”

  She smiled briefly. “So you are suggesting that if Donovan is able to loot the world, then he will see nothing here to defend? We inflict a lot of damage and he will weigh the benefit against the cost and pull out?”

  “It is a no-risk decision for him. He will have gotten everything he came for and be freed to prepare the next strike.” Alaric pointed to where the hologram had stood. “Every planet he takes increases his fame. He could easily be elected saKhan of the Wolves and stand one step away from ultimate power when we take Terra.”

  Anastasia slowly nodded. “Well, it is in our contract to defend Unukalhai or retake it, if possible. It seems the only tool we have on our side is time—time to plan our assault, and time to let Donovan succeed to the point where opposing us costs more than he wants to pay. Liam, have the task force slow their burn for the planet. Instead of arriving in two days, let us make it three, three and a half—whatever puts us at our appointed landfall at midnight local time. We can let the civilians all be tucked away in their beds. If we are fortunate, we find a place that is very cold, to further discourage adventurism on their part.”

  “What about me, Colonel?” Alaric watched her face carefully. “Will you leverage me against a Star of ’Mechs?”

  “Afraid I will lose, Alaric?” Anastasia laughed. “Or are you offended that you are only worth a medium Star?”

  “On his best day, Donovan could not beat you.”

  “Ah, but it is on his best day that I wish to defeat him.” She half smiled. “If he wishes to be foolishly generous, who am I to refuse his generosity?”

  She reached out and patted his cheek. “Fear not, Alaric, I know what I am doing. I know how this all plays out. Arrogance makes for a fall, and your Donovan is arrogance personified.”

  After careful study of the world and analysis of the pirate broadcasts the government could not squelch, the Wolf Hunters chose to land high on the northern continent. It was a relatively barren and frozen area that had the added benefit of being part of the former prime minister’s home district. A low mountain range dating from the planet’s last glacial period separated the district from the capital and provided the Wolves an excellent line of defense. The Hunters had a limited number of routes in toward their target, but with more mobile forces, they had the opportunity to range south through a river valley and flank the Wolf position.

  Alaric stood alone in the Jaeger’s holotank. Above him in a narrow band ran images from the various available holo sources. If he reached up and drew one down it would form a window, and if he pushed it back, it would take over the larger holographic display. The image it replaced would pop out into a window, or if he pushed two images back at the same time, they would split the image area.

  He pulled down the sensor feed from Anastasia’s ’Mech, a Stormcrow, but did not push it into the background. He did touch a small icon on the bottom of the window, giving him access to radio chatter. Opposite it, on the other side of the satellite-based composite tactical map, he pulled down the feed from the leader of the Hunters’ armor task force. They were ranging far to the south, making for a bridge over the river that would then get them into the Wolves’ rear area.

  The armor thrust was a viable but limited threat. It would force Donovan to detach a Star of ’Mechs to seal off the mercenaries’ flanking maneuver. That would weaken his middle, but as Anastasia drove at him, the Wolves could withdraw in good order to the capital and depart without serious loss of life and very little damage.

  The difficulty with the tactical composite was the paucity of data from the Wolf position. While Donovan had had to hurry to move forces into the mountains, they had gotten there in sufficient time to cool down. Infrared data from satellite passes revealed nothing about their location, and the mountains had plenty of places to hide them. This included natural formations as well as some defenses that had been created and then abandoned during the drive to form the Republic of the Sphere.

  Anastasia’s main force placed its ’Mech companies in the middle of the formation, with the heavies on the left. The infantry took up the leftmost flank, with one company of armor on the right. The two artillery companies hung back to provide cover. The Hunters’ own armor was hooking around, but moving through terrain that hid them from direct observation by the Wolves.

  Captain Horet’s assessment of the matchup had basically been correct. The invaders had an edge, but fighting in the mountains would blunt it quickly. Everything would come down to maneuvering, and the mountains would make that rather tight. The successful end run by the armor would shift the advantage considerably.

  The main force advanced across pristine snowfields that were dotted with swaths of forest. Unless Donovan was a complete moron, he had spotters deployed in the woods to track Anastasia’s advance. Had Alaric been fighting her, he would have used vibrabombs and other devices to inflict damage as she came in. There was no sense in letting her advance unmolested.

  Only honor.

  He shook his head. Once upon a time, the concept of honor held almost mythical weight for him; a worthy ideal for which to die. He supposed that his thinking on that matter had been shifting for some time, but the short period he had spent with Anastasia had sped the process. Honor might have been a concept that some people refused to face life without, but he had come to see it as an excuse that retrospectively ennobled stupidity on the part of dead warriors.

  Of course, things were not always clear-cut. He recalled the story Verena had told him of Zhuge Liang. Was deceiving his foe honorable? Very few societies saw deception as honorable, but many would also describe Zhuge as being clever, and that seemed to make it acceptable. Clever or deceptive really were beside the point. The action was actually both, but more importantly, it was effective. Not only had Zhuge won that battle without fighting, but chances were that anyone else he faced who had heard of the story—from his enemy’s point of view or the full story—proved very reluctant to fight him.

  For someone like Verena, this meant the greatest warrior was one who never had to fight. In that assessment, however, she missed the point. It was not that Zhuge didn’t have to fight, it was that he won the battle before it began. He beat his enemy in his mind, and that was a defeat from which his foe could never recover.

  Alaric glanced over at the sensor view from the armored column. Major Perkins had shifted over to magres, so the bridge over the Soluval River lit up brightly. Alaric reached out to tap into his radio output, then recalled they were traveling under radio silence until they crossed the river, and then they were to be as noisy as possible to get Donovan to react.

  Suddenly, light flashed on the bridge. A second light and a third. It took Alaric a moment to realize these were explosions. The bridge sagged in the middle, and then the center of it fell clean away. It broke through the ice coating the river.

  He hit the armor radio icon.

  “. . . I repeat, the bridge is gone, Colonel. Next bridge is three hours away, and you have to know they will have it
covered, too.”

  Anastasia’s voice tightened. “Acknowledge, Perk. Thank you.” She fell silent for a moment, then switched frequencies. The holotank’s computer took a couple of seconds to catch up with the switch. “. . . is Colonel Kerensky for Star Colonel Donovan.”

  Donovan’s voice, as relayed through Anastasia’s communications link, sounded distant. “Yes, Colonel Kerensky.”

  “I congratulate you on anticipating us, Star Colonel. Blowing the bridge at Darien has robbed me of all tactical advantage.” Anastasia managed a chuckle. “Doing it when we were just in sight of it shows élan of which I did not think you capable.”

  “I am not certain what you mean, Colonel.” Donovan’s voice came slowly and he sounded confused. “I have no troops operating near Darien.”

  “Then, apparently, it was my bad luck that the bridge spontaneously exploded and collapsed. Such are the fortunes of war. I had counted on flanking you to gain a tactical advantage that would let me drive you from the mountains. With that gone . . .”

  Alaric’s stomach sank in on itself. No, this is not happening.

  “What are you saying, Colonel?”

  “I am saying you have won, Star Colonel Donovan. You have successfully defended your holding of Unukalhai. I beg of you the indulgence of allowing my people to withdraw. Once we have recovered our troops, I will conclude our bargain.” Her voice hardened only slightly. “You have won Alaric’s freedom and I shall deliver him to you myself.”