BattleTech, page 21
This time when Diamond responded, her voice was full of static and she sounded far away. “Diamond here, Baphomet. What’s happening?”
“We need an ETA. The sooner the better. The enemy DropShips are moving, as are ground troops. They all seem to be headed in our direction.”
Diamond didn’t answer for an uncomfortably long time. “Grandmother wants to know if we need to be quiet, or if loud is all right.”
“Define ‘loud,’ please.”
“Walking versus driving.”
Jasper frowned. “Time difference?”
“Thirty to sixty minutes. Especially as it grows dark.”
He looked at Pascal who mouthed the words Faster is better.
Jasper nodded and repeated. “Faster is better. ETA for faster?”
“Thirty minutes or less.”
“Okay. Loud and fast. What should we expect?”
“Three armed and armored jeeps coming from the south road.”
Jasper considered that. Armed and armored jeeps could come in handy. “Roger that. Expecting three armed vehicles from the south within thirty minutes. Over and out.”
As he gave the mic and headset back to Pascal, he hoped like hell that they, and the Endeavor’s Run, would be ready in time.
30
NEKOHONO’O-CLASS DROPSHIP FUJINAMI
LOW ORBIT, EMPORIA
FEDERATED SUNS
18 APRIL 3150
2200 HOURS
Tai-sa Yoshizawa had returned to the bridge after making sure both the ’Mechs and the troops on the ground were ready. Now was the time for waiting.
He could feel the rising tide of anticipation and blood. With it would come victory. It no longer bothered him that the bridge crew remained as silent as the grave while they worked and waited with him. Only Ona, sitting at his side, keeping track of reports being sent to the DropShip, seemed content and calm.
He couldn’t help but think that it should’ve been Fume at his side. Though in reality she never stayed by his side as the hurry-up-and-wait game played out. She had always kept herself and her people busy—checking and double-checking their systems, their plans, and their usual lance maneuvers. Often, she was on-planet or already in place for the attack.
Of course, Ona was not a MechWarrior, and would never have the same camaraderie with him that Fume once did.
Both Ona and Sho-i Matsura reacted at the same time. Ona stood as the communications officer turned and said, “Tai-sa, the Ritza family has just confirmed they’ll be at the rendezvous spot within the hour.”
Yoshizawa knew better than to accept an enemy’s gift at face value. “Confirmed how?”
“They radioed from within the foothills to a small group of people waiting to get their vehicles ready.”
Yoshizawa frowned. “In the clear? On the shortwave radio?”
Ona broke in. “No. This is over the private communication channel the Ritza family uses with the military. They don’t know that we’ve captured one of the communication stations.”
He gave her a look. He didn’t know they had control of one of the resistance comm stations either. It was something he should’ve known. As anger and doubt rose, he paused and checked himself. The general did not know exactly what the foot soldier did. He knew what the squads had been assigned to do. Strategic military targets had been the order of the day. Targets like ammunition, food, and communications.
She met that look without fear and answered his unvoiced irritation. “This victory just happened. I was going to inform you, but the Ritza family made contact, Tai-sa.”
Sho-i Matsura added, “It was encrypted, just not to us.”
Clenching a fist, Yoshizawa knew their time had come. “Within the hour… Dai-i Harada, get us to our drop point at the fastest speed.”
“Yes, Tai-sa.” The pilot flipped on the ship’s broadcast system. “Fujinami, we are heading planet-side at full burn. Prepare your stations.”
Her voice was calm and authoritative. It pleased Yoshizawa. Ona returned to her spot as Dai-i Harada began to count down. As soon as she hit “one” and activated the DropShip’s engines, Yoshizawa stood.
“Chu-sa Nanba, you have the bridge until I say otherwise. I’ll be preparing for war.”
“Yes, Tai-sa.” Ona didn’t hesitate. She stood, bowed to him, and took her place in his seat.
Satisfied all would be well—little could go wrong during planetfall that they could not deal with—Yoshizawa left the bridge and returned to his council chamber. There he would meditate and prepare for what was to come.
For the next seventy-five minutes, Yoshizawa ruminated on having no more masters. Once he’d had two masters—the yakuza and the DCMS. Neither one had respected him, his skills, or his unit. They’d used him and the Seventh Ghost Regiment for what they could get out of them, then dismissed them as one dismisses a lowly servant.
For decades, both masters had used and abused the Seventh Ghost Regiment. Had never given them the acknowledgment they gave other regiments of lesser skill, lesser deeds. Yes, the warriors of the Seventh Ghost Regiment did the impossible, and never wavered in their duty to Yoshizawa or the Dragon. It was what they’d been built to do.
Now was the time they would be rewarded for their decades of hard work. Now was the time he, Tai-sa Takeji Yoshizawa, would reap what he had earned over the years. No more waiting for scraps and being grateful for them.
This was the time for new beginnings. A new empire, with Yoshizawa as its master and emperor. Mason Ritza was fourteen years old. Almost too old to mold into a proper leader for Emporia, but Yoshizawa had ways of making it happen. The heir would learn what it was to have a benevolent master like Yoshizawa. Through him, Emporia would learn the same.
Or both would regret their rebellion.
And yet, doubt crept around his mind on invisible feet. It was felt, but neither seen nor understood. Had he missed something vital? Part of him was certain he had. Part of him dismissed it as pre-battle nerves. He didn’t know who had made it from the Davion DropShip to the planet. Perhaps that was it. But did that matter? It shouldn’t. He would deal with those people should it be necessary.
In the end, he dismissed his doubt. It was too amorphous to contend with. Like a man attempting to punch an enemy made of smoke. And that made the entire mental struggle useless. Thus, not worthy of his attention.
The whole time, his inner demon said nothing.
As the DropShip Fujinami landed, Yoshizawa stood. He exited his council chambers and relished the feel of true gravity. It did not make him admire the grav deck any less, but at this moment in time, true gravity told the story he needed to hear.
On his way to the ’Mech bay, he commanded his people. Over his commlink, he ordered the standard setup of landing in hostile territory. Scouts to be sent out. Perimeters to be established. Troops to be deployed. Patrols to be set.
All the while, the remaining ground troops—little though they may be—were summoned to the command DropShip to set the stage for the final battle. Everyone would see his triumph. He would regain their love and loyalty through action and victory.
Just as any good leader should do.
31
FOOTHILLS BELOW STAG’S HEAD
EMPORIA
FEDERATED SUNS
18 APRIL 3150
OPERATION BARBICAN, T-MINUS 2 HOURS
While the rumble of the approaching jeeps was expected, everyone was still on high alert. Three of the five ’Mechs were piloted and on alert, with only Delany and Jasper standing next to Nadine and Lyric. Fynn and his crew had taken cover behind various vehicles and were ready to fight.
In the shadows of the fading daylight and the dimmed lights of the ’Mechs, Nadine noticed most of the cadets were only half in uniform and armor. Less than half wore helmets. But all of them had weapons of some kind. Those couple of days she was in space had been harder on her friends and peers than she’d suspected. Still, Fynn had scrounged up a couple armored vests and rifles for her and Lyric.
The vehicles, a trio of Meretz Mountain Terrain Jeeps, came into sight. All three had their headlights dimmed, their running lights on. None of the jeeps had markings, but each one had a manned automatic weapon mounted on the rear half. Nadine counted a total of twelve people in the three jeeps. The first and last had four House Ritza guards each; she could tell by their silhouettes. The second had one House Ritza guard—the driver—and the three people she was waiting for: the Dowager Countess Catherine Ritza, heir apparent Mason Ritza, and Diamond a.k.a. Alicia Hoffman, the countess’s handmaiden.
The vehicles stopped before the quartet of cadets and the eight house guards got out, bristling with weapons. Nadine stepped forward as Diamond got out and opened the door for the countess and her son. All three were dressed in well-made, nondescript clothing. It was dirty from hard use, but of unmistakable quality.
To Nadine’s eyes, each of the trio looked as she’d remembered. The countess was old, yes, but still keen of eye and full of vim and vigor. Mason Ritza was still the solemn-eyed, dark-haired teenager who watched the world, drinking in everything he could. Diamond looked tired but alert. She still had the shortwave radio backpack with her, and held onto it like it was her lifeline.
In a way, it had been.
Countess Ritza looked at the array of ’Mechs and vehicles, then at the armed cadets in cover, and finally at the quartet of cadets. “Cadet Roux.”
Nadine and Jasper glanced at each other. Jasper gestured for her to go ahead. It’s your operation, his look said.
Nadine saluted. “Yes, Lady Ritza.”
She beckoned Nadine closer. “Well, Cadet, we are in your hands. What do we need to do now?”
Nadine’s thoughts lined up before her. “Forgive me if I’m brusque. First, are any in your party sick with the virus?”
She nodded. “My handmaid and two of the house guards.”
“Good.” Nadine saw the surprise on the countess’s face. She didn’t like the fact that Diamond was ill, but she could trust the woman to tell the truth and keep details. She tried to amend her words. “I mean, I have a vaccine. Lyric…Cadet Hayton and I have been inoculated. We’re doing fine. We’d like to inoculate you, Master Mason, and then see if the inoculation works on anyone who is already ill.”
“Where did this vaccine come from?”
Captain Morse’s voice erupted in her ear. “Don’t tell her.”
Nadine tried not to wince. “Ah…”
The countess’s eyes narrowed. She reached out a gentle hand and turned Nadine’s face so she could see the earpiece within it. “I see.” She turned Nadine’s face back to hers and locked eyes. “Do you, Cadet Roux, swear by the stag’s heart that this vaccine is trustworthy? Nod or shake your head.”
Nadine nodded.
“Good. Who is in your ear, giving you orders?”
Nadine hesitated, waiting to see if Captain Morse had anything else to say. He didn’t. “Captain Morse, from the Endeavor’s Run.”
Lady Ritza glanced up and beyond the group of ’Mechs, cadets, and vehicles. “And is he the captain of that DropShip?”
Nadine whipped around and looked up. It was still high in the night sky and too far to hear, but it was clearly a DropShip, and she knew the answer to that even as Captain Morse confirmed her answer over the radio. She turned back around. “No, Lady Ritza, that’s Tai-sa Yoshizawa.”
“Then I suggest, Captain Morse, you get the Endeavor’s Run here as soon as you possibly can.”
While it was weird to play the role of mouthpiece, Nadine spoke Morse’s answer as she heard it: “We are doing our best, Lady Ritza, however, we aren’t alone up here, and it will take time. I suggest you prepare to defend yourself until we can land.”
“How long will that take?” Nadine asked him, knowing that was the countess wanted to know.
“An hour or so. We’ll land as close to the original evac site as possible. Good luck, Cadet Roux.”
Nadine nodded. “Thank you, sir.” She raised her voice for the others to hear. “We have at least an hour before the Endeavor’s Run can land. We need to defend ourselves until then.”
Jasper stood next to Nadine as they watched Lyric take charge of administering the vaccines to Mason, the countess, Diamond, and the two ailing guards. He hoped it worked on the sick, too. That would mean a lot to those back at the estate, and on the rest of the planet, for that matter. His mind flittered through those last images of Elias being sick, and he hoped for the best.
As the siblings stood side by side, watching the choreographed chaos, they both also watched the enemy DropShip approach. It was far enough away that the roar of its thrusters was only painful and not deafening. It’d been a long time since he’d watched a DropShip land, and this one heralded bad tidings instead of rescue.
The DropShip’s descent thrusters sent up plumes of smoke and dust as it burned everything for at least a kilometer around its chosen landing site. Even as it dropped out of sight behind the hill and the tree line there, Jasper knew exactly where it was from the diminishing sound and the continuous smoke. That smoke would linger for a long time after the ship had landed and the new attack on Emporia had begun.
“That’s Yoshizawa’s ship,” Jasper said when he couldn’t stand the silence any longer.
Nadine pulled a device from her pocket and fiddled with it. “It is. The Fujinami. We know a lot about it now. Two of their officers defected. Their unit wasn’t even supposed to be here.”
It took longer than he’d wanted for her words to penetrate, and for him to comprehend what they implied. When Jasper finally did, he felt like he’d been slapped. “Not supposed to be here? What do you mean?”
“Just that. The Seventh Ghost Regiment was ordered to go elsewhere. Yoshizawa, for some reason, decided to declare war on us instead. But that’s not the important bit.”
He faced her. “Not the important bit? I think it’s a very important bit. What the hell, Nadine?”
She shook his arm. “I’m serious. Listen. The defectors told me his weakness is cadets. He’s obsessed with defeating us now because cadets have beaten him.”
With a sinking feeling that, somehow, all this was all his fault, he asked, “Why?”
“It had something to do with cadets beating the regiment on Sakhara V. That’s how Yoshizawa took over this regiment. The defectors said we had to use the fact that we’re cadets to beat him. It’s made him crazy.”
Jasper nodded, not knowing what to say. If the cadets hadn’t…if he hadn’t…fought Yoshizawa at the spaceport, and Nadine’s bola weapon hadn’t worked…. If they hadn’t beaten him there, none of this would’ve happened. He clenched his fists. Am I the reason Emporia is in ruins?
“Stop that,” Nadine ordered.
“What?”
She squeezed his hand. “Stop what you’re thinking. This is not our fault. If we had done nothing, we would’ve been captured and forced into the service of a madman. Most likely, all of the nobles would’ve been executed. You know the Emporian people. They would’ve fought back no matter what we did. With more of a loss. This—” she gestured vaguely around them, “—is not your fault. None of it is your fault.”
Jasper bowed his head. “How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“Because I’m trying not to think it, too.”
That sobered him. It also forced him to try to share what he’d realized about her and the infantry cadets as a whole. “Listen, while you were up there…” He fumbled for the words he needed. “I fought down here. I never thought much about what the infantry did. I always thought of you as ‘clean up.’” He shook his head. “I never thought about what you guys actually did. How you faced the enemy. I mean, really faced them. And fought them. I’m sorry. And…and…”
Nadine pulled him to her and hugged him tight. “It’s okay. We fight for Emporia in different ways. We’ve had different training. We need each other.”
He returned her hug and then some. “I’m so proud of you. I am.”
She pulled back and smiled at him. “I’m really proud of you, too. You did all this.”
Jasper nodded. “And you got us help.”
Nadine smiled then glanced upward. “Corporal Crispin has noticed how quiet I’ve been. She’s warned me that Captain Morse has noticed, too. I have to unmute my mic.”
“Okay.”
Just as she did so, he heard a young man’s voice rise above the general din. “Absolutely not. I forbid it!”
Looking over, Jasper and Nadine saw Mason Ritza facing off against his grandmother in the light of one of the jeeps.
Nadine and Jasper hurried over to the fray. Delany had Fynn directing the nearby cadets away while Lyric stood there and watched. None of the House Ritza guardsmen paid the argument any mind. They stood on sentry, alert for outside threats.
Lyric didn’t wait for Nadine to ask what was happening. “Lady Ritza has decided that, as part of keeping the enemy at bay, she needs to send her house guards north, as if they believe the DropShip that just landed was the Endeavor’s Run. Something to delay the Kuritans from coming here.”
Nadine had to admire the strategy of the woman. “It’s not a bad plan.”
“No. It’s not. But…”
She knew what Lyric was implying. “But the heir apparent doesn’t want to sacrifice his people?”
“Right.”
“Huh. At least he has generous instincts. Then again, he’s young. I wonder if he’ll grow out of it. I hope not.”
“Only two years younger than us,” Lyric murmured.
The two of them listened to the argument rage.
The dark-haired boy stood his ground, facing his grandmother with his fists clenched. “No. I am not going to sacrifice any of these people for me. I am not sending them north. House guards, military cadets, none of them. They are not worth less than me.”
Lady Ritza stood as tall as her slightly bent back would allow her. “You can, you must, and you will. We need time. The Endeavor’s Run won’t be here before the Draconis Combine soldiers can bring a force to bear. We cannot allow you to be captured.”
