Warrior: Riposte (The Warrior Trilogy, Book Two): BattleTech Legends, #58 Page 36

  “Ha!” The Chancellor crouched on his throne, thrusting his face forward to leer at the duke. “How foolish do you believe I am? Do you believe me such an idiot that I would fall prey to such an obvious fabrication?” Liao gestured one hand toward Justin and Tsen Shang. “They’ve pointed out to me that the estimates of your own troop strengths were undervalued! How could you have made that mistake? How could you have let it slip past if you were being truly faithful to our agreement?”

  Michael shook his head violently. He stabbed a finger at Justin. “He’s lying! He’s Quintus Allard’s son! He’s been planted here to deceive you!” Turning quickly, Michael lunged at Justin with hands outstretched, his fingers tensing to grab the analyst’s throat.

  Justin ducked, then buried his left fist in Michael’s stomach. Michael grunted audibly as he fell back, then lay writhing and gasping for breath on the carpet. Still croaking weakly with unintelligible accusations, he pointed wildly at Justin.

  Maximilian Liao, spittle collecting at the corners of his mouth, descended halfway down the steps of his throne. He snorted derisively, then looked up at Justin. “This man is no spy, you moron! Our Operation Riposte was not entirely a loss. Justin sent the Fourth Tau Ceti Rangers off on an expedition. They destroyed a damned NAIS training cadre and escaped with some supplies.”

  The Chancellor glared down at the duke. “Do you realize what that means, you Judas? His attack ignored your reports, and it succeeded.” Maximilian spat on the Duke of New Syrtis. “The man you accuse of being a traitor has again proven his loyalty to me.”

  Liao turned his obsidian gaze toward Justin. “Justin Xiang, I require a service of you.”

  Justin’s head came up proudly. “I live to serve.”

  Smiling, Maximilian Liao gestured to one of his bodyguards, then nodded at the duke. “Execute the traitor.”

  Justin wrapped the duke’s long braid around his left hand and used it to haul him to his knees. Accepting a pistol from one of the bodyguards, Justin eared the hammer back and pressed the gun’s muzzle to Michael’s right temple.

  Seated deep within his throne, Maximilian Liao nodded, and the sound of a single gunshot filled the room.

  Maximilian Liao watched Michael’s braid slither through Justin’s black metal fingers, then motioned to his bodyguards. “Get that thing out of my sight, and take the maps and notes with it.” Leaning forward from his throne, the Chancellor smiled solicitously. “Now, Justin Xiang, refresh my memory on what you learned from the Rangers’ raid on Axton, and tell me again how it will allow us to destroy Hanse Davion and his precious Federated Suns.”

  Technical Readout

  About the Author

  Michael A. Stackpole is the multiple New York Times bestselling author of more than forty fantasy and science fiction novels. His best known books were written in the Star Wars® universe, including I, Jedi and the Rogue Squadron series, as well as the X-Wing graphic novel series. He has also written in the Conan, Pathfinder, BattleTech, Shadowrun, and World of Warcraft universes, among others.

  * * *

  Other honors include induction into the Academy Gaming Arts and Design Hall of Fame, a Parsec Award for “Best Podcast Short Story,” and a Topps’s selection as Best Star Wars® Comic Book Writer. He is the first author to sell work in Apple’s App Store, and he’s been an advocate for authors taking advantage of the digital revolution. Learn more about Michael and his work at www.stormwolf.com.

  WARRIOR: COUPÉ

  By Michael A. Stackpole

  Book Three in the Warrior Trilogy

  AS THE UNIVERSE BRACES FOR WAR, LORDS AND TYRANTS PLOT AGAINST EACH OTHER…

  * * *

  The minions of Maximilian Liao are about to deliver a crippling blow to the forces of Prince Hanse Davion—discovering a way to use Hanse’s own technology against him.

  Half a galaxy away, assassins stalk Hanse's wife, Melissa Steiner, and her mother, Archon Katrina Steiner, in the passageways of their own palace.

  Invasion is imminent. The only ’Mech force capable of stopping that invasion—the Kell Hounds mercenary unit—is trapped in a game of search and destroy with the most fearsome Kurita unit ever formed. Even if they come back in time...how many would make it?

  In a world where ten-meter-tall war machines are the soul of battle, assassins are state policy, and a spy’s loyalty is always for sale, the only thing certain is death. Who can you trust? And in the bitter end, how will you be betrayed?

  COMSTAR FIRST CIRCUIT COMPOUND

  HILTON HEAD ISLAND

  NORTH AMERICA, TERRA

  27 FEBRUARY 3029

  “You are all fools, blind fools!” Myndo Waterly exploded. “Hanse Davion will drown you in your own juice while you sit here and stew. I demand action! I demand an interdiction now!”

  Her outburst burned away the silent tension suffocating the oak-walled First Circuit chamber, but it did not crack Primus Julian Tiepolo’s composure.

  “Precentor Dieron,” he said calmly. “You will refrain from such childish displays of emotion. You owe your fellow precentors an apology, for they are neither blind nor foolish. What we decide here will be based on intelligent, open discussion, and not be a knee-jerk response to someone shouting that the sky is falling.”

  Myndo stared back at her vulture-faced superior. You are tired, old man, and you’re dragging ComStar into the grave along with you. I will not allow this to happen. She broke off her stare, then bowed her head in supplication. “I do apologize, but you cannot expect me to be dispassionate when I see Jerome Blake’s life dream withering.”

  She looked around the chamber, taking in each of the red-robed precentors. “Like you, I have labored long and hard to see our mission is fulfilled. ComStar is the salvation of mankind and the Word of Blake is a guide to that salvation. Hanse Davion’s war against the Capellan Confederation unravels our work, yet you will do nothing to stop it. How can that be justified?”

  Ulthan Everson, the large, blond man standing across from Myndo in the dimly lit chamber, accepted the challenge in her question. “Your vision of the future is not one we share, Precentor Dieron. You have cried wolf so often that we are no longer panicked by your words. You point at shadows as though they had substance. Hanse Davion’s war does not contradict Blake’s Word. It fulfills it.”

  Myndo shook her golden hair back from the shoulders of her red silk robe. “Blake said wars would fragment the Successor States. Then, and only then, would ComStar rise up to lead mankind to its true pinnacle. Hanse Davion’s war has swallowed half the Capellan Confederation. It does not divide. It unites!”

  “Pavel Ridzik has created his own nation from the Tikonov Commonality,” rebutted a slight, black-haired man. “Fragmentation, not fusion, Myndo.”

  “Ha!” Myndo fixed him with a harsh stare. “You refer to that puppet state as a fragment? Please, Precentor Sian, do not waste my time. Hanse Davion allows Ridzik to appear to be independent, but we know the Prince has dispatched his trusted friend, Ardan Sortek, to be Ridzik’s watchdog.”

  Myndo smiled cruelly. “You would be right to cite Maximilian Liao as working toward fragmentation, but all he’s doing is carving his own realm into bite-sized chunks so that Hanse Davion can gorge himself.”

  Huthrin Vandel laughed. “Perhaps he hopes the Prince will choke to death.”

  The Primus shook his head in silent rebuke. “Myndo is correct. Liao’s efforts have been ineffective at stemming the Davion tide. Let us not forget that Hanse Davion has justly earned the nickname of the Fox. None of us anticipated his purchasing the loyalty of Liao’s Northwind Highlanders with the world of Northwind. The Highlanders returned to their ancestral home and disrupted the Kurita assault on the Terran Corridor. It was a well-planned move on the Prince’s part.”

  The Primus’s intervention on her behalf rattled Myndo slightly. Is it possible that he has begun to see the threat, or is he merely reining in his underlings? She studied Tiepolo’s face, but the man’s dark eyes and b
lank expression gave her no clue to his thoughts.

  Myndo looked away toward the other precentors. “As I recall from our last debate on this subject, you, Precentor Sian, suggested that the Liao counterstrike in January would destroy Davion supply bases and blunt the advance on the Tikonov-Federated border. But Liao’s strike played directly into a massive Davion ambush. Capellan offensive capabilities have been destroyed, and their defensive strength is anemic.”

  Precentor Sian shook his head. “May I point out, Precentor Dieron, that Hanse Davion’s troops have not moved forward since the ambush? We project that their next assault wave will come in May, at the earliest. You will recall that not all the Liao attacks were repulsed. The Fourth Tau Ceti Rangers hit Axton and managed to escape after raiding. This attack behind the lines has certainly soured the taste of victory for the Prince.”

  Vandel ran his fingers back through his black hair. “As Precentor New Avalon, I can confirm that the court is not pleased that this attack was not anticipated. The Fourth Tau Ceti Rangers managed to hurt an NAIS training cadre.”

  The Primus looked toward Precentor Sian. “Has your staff on the Liao capital yet figured out the significance of the message the Rangers sent out from Axton to Sian before they left? ‘Go Fish’ is a strange, though economical, communication to send during a military operation.”

  In spite of herself, Myndo smiled along with her colleagues.

  Villius Tejh let the snickers die before he answered the Primus’s question. “The message went to Justin Xiang. From what little we’ve been able to piece together, Xiang is hunting for a New Avalon Institute of Science facility that he believes could hold the key to a new generation of BattleMechs…”

  Precentor New Avalon cut in. “That would probably be the Bethel lab complex. Very small, but staffed with some good people.”

  Myndo looked to the Primus. “Our ROM agents have not infiltrated it?”

  The Primus did not reply. Instead, he nodded almost imperceptibly that Precentor Sian should continue.

  “Xiang has organized a strike on Bethel using the Fourth Tau Ceti Rangers,” Tejh said. “It is believed that their message from Axton indicates that they did not find the lab there. Xiang himself is supposed to lead the assault on Bethel.”

  Ulthan Everson glanced at Precentor New Avalon. “What sort of defense will Xiang’s mission encounter?”

  Vandel shrugged. “Davion is constantly moving troops around. If the attack goes off before the end of April, the Capellans will face a company of Davion Light Guards. If Xiang shows any of his usual inventiveness, his people will certainly win out.”

  Myndo shook her head. “I cannot believe I’m listening to this chatter about one tiny aspect of this war. The Lyran Commonwealth has reshaped its border with the Draconis Combine, and Wolf’s Dragoons are single-handedly holding the Draconians out of the Federated Suns. House Marik is still at war with the Davion-sponsored separatist movements inside its own borders, and Hanse Davion is eating up the Capellan Confederation. What good can this assault by Justin Xiang do? What difference can it make?”

  The Primus smiled coldly. “Precentor Dieron, are you well? How often have you admonished us that Davion is the devil incarnate because of his desire to recover the sciences lost over the last three centuries? I should think you would applaud this strike against an NAIS facility.”

  “I would applaud Xiang’s effort if he were to attack the NAIS itself,” Myndo retorted angrily. Don’t try to strangle me with my own words! “Anyway, this discussion takes us away from the point of my original statement. I demand that we interdict House Davion now! If we cut off all their communications, not only do we hamper their military attacks, but we cripple the Federated Suns. The people of the Federated Suns will suffer if we allow no messages to go in or out of their worlds. This will lead to discontent, fear, and unrest. It will pull the carpet out from under the Prince. It’s the only way to stop him.”

  Precentor Tharkad shook his head. “My dear Myndo, you demanded interdiction last year. We all agreed to set a threshold for what we would tolerate. We agreed to interdict communications if Davion forces attacked Sarna.”

  Myndo fumed. “Need I remind you, Ulthan, that this agreement was made before Davion’s ambush and before the Prince’s only rival, Duke Michael Hasek-Davion, so conveniently took himself out of the competition? Things are far more grave now than they were then.”

  “But Davion is no stronger,” Precentor Sian said heatedly. “Were we to intervene, it would make us seem partial. Hanse Davion could turn his force against us.”

  Myndo Waterly raised herself to full height. “You sound as though you are afraid of him. We both know that ComStar has more BattleMechs hidden here than any of the Successor States can claim, and you know also that our machines are in better shape than anything even House Davion has. We have nothing to fear from the Fox.”

  The Primus’s eyes smoldered. “In this you are very wrong, Precentor Dieron. Our impartiality makes us a trusted ally to all in the Successor States. Because of this, they allow us to transmit their communications. Through these communications, we learn about their strengths and weaknesses. We gain knowledge, and that gives us power.”

  Myndo met Tiepolo’s dark gaze. “Of what use is power that we do not employ?”

  The Primus’s granite expression did not change. “We have not said that we will not use our power. We will not use it bluntly. I will not give the order for our ’Mechs to be deployed because it would present an unfavorable image. I will, however, allow you to create a holovid of Davion troops razing one of our communications stations. With this as evidence, we have a valid excuse for discontinuing service with the Federated Suns.”

  Precentor Tharkad narrowed his eyebrows. “Will the interdiction include cutting off information from Davion agents inside the Capellan Confederation?”

  The Primus nodded. “In an effort to slow the Davion advance, I have already begun delaying messages containing intelligence on troop strengths and deployments going out from Davion spies.”

  Myndo looked puzzled. “Why not betray the spies to the Maskirovka? I’m sure Maximilian Liao would be grateful for any enemy agents turned over to his secret police.”

  Precentor Sian spoke up next. “I would not recommend that approach. Maximilian is under much pressure. He could thank us, or he could accuse us of collaborating with House Davion for not betraying the spies early enough to stop the Davion assault.”

  The Primus nodded in agreement. “I do not mind delaying reports that will kill warriors, but I refuse to expose spies. That would be akin to killing the goose that lays the golden eggs. We will continue to accept their reports as though we are transmitting them, but the information will come here for analysis.”

  Precentor New Avalon cleared his throat. “If any Davion spies were exposed, I am certain Quintus Allard would be able to recruit new ones and keep their identities safe from us—at least in the short term. Better the devils we know…”

  Myndo brooded silently. You’re a bunch of weak-kneed farmers’ wives. You chase after the chicken you want for dinner, hoping it will die. You wait and plot and plan when all you really need is a sharp axe. She watched the Primus carefully. When I take your place, ComStar will become a force greater than anything you can imagine. The Word of Blake will become known for the truth that it is.

  The Primus smiled but without a trace of warmth or pleasantness. “If you do not want to be embarrassed, Precentor Dieron, I suggest not calling for a vote on interdiction. It seems that we choose to stand by our earlier agreement.”

  Myndo nodded. “Very well. I am content to wait until House Davion attacks Sarna—but no later.” Now all I need do is restructure enough spy reports to make Sarna look very tempting. Into her mind, unbidden, came an image of Hanse Davion. Perhaps, with the Fox doing the planning, I will need do no work at all…

  CHAPTER 1

  NEW AVALON

  CRUCIS MARCH

  FEDERATED SUNS
/>
  3 MARCH 3029

  Hanse Davion squinted his ice-blue eyes against the harsh glare of the lights, while around him, the applause from the reporters jamming the small auditorium thundered. Tall and regal in his blue dress uniform, the Prince of the Federated Suns stood at the wooden podium, smiling as he waited for the ovation to die down. When it gave no signs of abating, he raised his hands to quiet the enthusiastic crowd.

  “Please, let us at least have the appearance of an objective press…” He joined in with the journalists’ laughter at the remark, then set his face in an expression of calm dignity. “I have a statement, ladies and gentlemen, before I will take questions.”

  Hanse’s left hand smoothed his closely cropped auburn hair. “Few would argue that warfare is mankind’s oldest profession—and oldest obsession. Wars have decided the course of history in the seven thousand years of recorded time, and the art of warfare was no doubt forged in a crucible of even greater antiquity.”

  Hanse paused for a moment to drink from the glass of water set beside the podium. “The history of warfare often glorifies the feats of courage that win battles, or the valiant efforts of those who fought and lost. Historians freely second-guess an order given by this or that general, but they seldom count the human factors entering into the equations. The barbarity of war can be reduced to statistics, but individuals feel the pain of losing a family member in emotional rather than mathematical terms.

  “Even wars fought in accordance with the Ares Conventions—warfare that minimizes the impact of battles on civilian populations—are not without loss and pain. Yet it is a rare death that affects a whole nation. Today I have the sad duty of informing you, my people, of just such a death.”