Mary’s mech shuddered, and suddenly there were red lights all over her large laser status display. The fight had become an absolute scrimmage, when Carlyle had decided to charge the line, along with everyone else.
But the other side wasn’t looking much better.
And we have a regiment inbound. They have to know this fight… She keyed her mike to the Marik frequency. “Colonel, you know you can’t beat the Guards, so why are you throwing your forces away!”
“If you get your hands on the Cache, if the Davions do, more of my fellow soldiers will die. If we cannot have the cache, defeating you gives us time to destroy it.”
Right, traditional Inner Sphere thinking… A string of autocannon shells marched across Baby II’s right leg, and now the computer was making all kinds of annoyed sounds.
What to do, what to do… they won’t believe you’re here just for the suspect but he has to know this ends with him dead when the Heavy Guard lands, and patriot or not, nobody likes that—wait a minute. We aren’t here for the cache.
“Colonel, call a five-minute truce! Just five minutes!”
“So you can regroup?”
“We’ll stay—all units, this is Cheng, do not fire unless fired upon!” Not that we have a lot. They had about eight mechs left, counting her, Sortek, and the one Dragon that hadn’t been forced to punch out. Carlyle’s people had recovered that pilot as well. But the firing trailed away and then the mechs were staring at each other, while the observers on the Ridge, some high-ranking Marik’s, were looking confused.
“You have your five minutes.”
“Carlyle,” Mary snapped. “This is still officially your land stake, right?”
The voice that responded to her was of a man halfway out of it. “What?” But then his voice firmed up. “Yes. For all that it matters.”
“It matters. You traded part of the cache to Ricol, have loaded your own dropships, but there were what, five regiments of mechs plus what ever else is down there. That leaves a lot, even if Sortek takes all he can cram into his dropships.”
“And?”
“And there’s your bribe Colonel. Since we can’t take it, Grayson, as the rightful possessor of this land, would you mind granting the good Colonel anything we can’t take? No boobytraps or tricks? Should be, oh, at least two regiments worth.”
There was a pause, and then Grayson spoke. “I can give you something else. There’s a Star League Library in there. All of their knowledge. I gave a core to Duke Ricol, and I was planning on giving it to General Cheng and the Prince’s Champion. I’ll give you one as well.”
Ignoring the “WHAT!” from Sortek, Mary waited to hear what the Colonel would say.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because the core isn’t mine,” Grayson said. “It’s all mankind’s, and fifteen million people died to keep it from them. Just promise that you’ll spread this knowledge.”
“Hurry!” Precentor Rachen snarled. The message coming over the comnet was like a thunderbolt. “The colonel is a fool and Grayson is deceiving him!”
But even without the core, they would know. He would have to be careful now, to play the deceived priest when Garth’s part in this catastrophe became clear. Comstar would punish him, but if he could destroy the core, they would see his wisdom. Keeping that knowledge from the Inner Sphere would… excuse much.
Now it was no longer about securing his place in the Order, it was about surviving.
“Precentor—the door, it’s opening!” Rachan spun to see the Marik troops pointing at the door.
“Prepare!” he ordered. “This is a lie, and the mercenaries and Davions have boobytrapped the core! We must take it immediately!”
The first wave of troops moved forward. The mercenaries were exhausted, and the Taurian mechs were on the other side of the mountain. He had mechs, they did not. They could do this.
They would have to do this.
Janice Taylor was kneeling behind some sand bags they’d put up, an impromptu barricade, next to one of the hulking powered armor suits.
She’d seen exoskeletons, but these suits didn’t move with the clumsy gait of those suits. They moved like… people.
“Gate is opening,” Judith said. The Taurian commander spoke, her voice amplified and going out over all radio frequencies. “Attention Marik forces. As you have no doubt heard, there is a truce. I am here to convey the suspects to a safe location, and to protect the Star League library. A copy will be granted to your forces and you may verify that it is intact. I—Son of a bitch!”
A hurricane of fire stitched into the chamber, as everyone dove for cover, and on its heels came Marik infantry.
The stories of what had happened on Sian had spread—but it took time for training to catch up with them, especially as most militaries were not yet fully acquainted with the Taurian powered armor.
Not all the suits were in position to fire. Some, like Willis, were with King, protecting the core, others were standing by the heavy weapons squad.
But enough were there so that the wave of Marik infantry were met by 12 machine gun toting troopers, and two with grenade launchers.
Compared to that torrent Janice’s rifle was barely even an after thought. Marik troopers were torn to shreds, body armor useless against the kind of rounds usually fired from mechs.
The survivors tumbled back from the door.
“Set the charges,” Rachan said. “We can bring down the cave on them.”
“But Precentor! The library!” an adept protested.
“You heard what those fools are doing! Before the library can be spread to unsanctified hands, it must be destroyed! Detonate!”
The troops started to move back from the wall.
“Major, I don’t care—we have a truce…” Langsdorf snarled and then called the other side. “Duke Garth has refused my request for a truce, and has ordered the units to continue firing on your troops.”
“And?” the Taurian general’s voice was calm.
“And your information leads me to believe that Duke Garth is not working in the best interests of the Free Worlds League. A data core alone would be worth more than every mech in that cache. But I cannot control the troops at the wall.”
The battered Dragon shifted. “Would you consider it a violation of our truce if I sent aid to them?”
“No, General.”
“Good, because we still have some troops in reserve.”
Baby Bottle #2.
The undamaged small craft from Baby Carriage had been on the ground, ready to take off to support the general when the call came.
“Understood, General, we’ll get there.” David Gonzalez was the lead pilot, and he started warming up the engines on the 200 ton aerodyne small craft as second platoon jogged aboard. They could carry more, but there was such a thing as putting too many eggs into a basket.
Baby Bottle #2 (a nickname based on the dropship that carried it), was heavily armored, with weapons designed to get a unit to their destination, and provide some support, although the Book said support was supposed to come from dedicated CAS craft.
He glanced over at the Dracs who were loading their bounty.
Lots of cameras over there. Guess he wants some videos to show the folks at home.
And then they were in the air.
When the wall exploded, Janice was flung back, before she was covered by a Taurian trooper. The wall collapsed, and this time, the Marik soldiers weren’t alone—there was an Archer coming with them.
Not what I’d choose for close quarters, Janice thought. The pilot opened fire, and a laser seared into the room, missing everyone, but then another shot sliced a trooper in half, his powered armor doing nothing to protect him.
But now the mech was covered with gunfire, the machine guns of the platoon spalling armor from its form, and on the heels of that, four sun-bright lasers seared into the mech’s body.
“Cakemix, what is the hold up!” Judith’s voice was aggrieved.
“It’s done!” another voice sounded. “But we’re pinned down.”
One of the lasers and its team was wiped from the earth by the battlemech’s attack, but now one of its arms was falling limp, the armor no longer protecting the myomer muscles.
“Ground units, be advised, support inbound in forty five seconds. That’s four five seconds. Over.”
Janice blinked. That’d come over her radio as well.
“Hang on, everyone, help’s coming,” Judith shouted. But the fact that she’d had to prioritize the mech meant that more Marik troops were in the chamber, hiding behind the rubble.
Even with the suits, this is going to be tight.
[/i]It was Lord Garth’s fault.
Rachan had wanted to bring an effective fighter cover, but Lord Garth hadn’t, and the light fighters he had brought were currently being held “in reserve” for when the main force arrived.
What less than a lance of light fighters could do against an entire regiment was not something that had been considered. So they were away from where they could have helped.
Baby Bottle #2 skimmed the surface as close as a 200 ton Aerodyne could, while it’s weapons were prepared.
No bombs. They were too close to the friendlies.
“Stand by for jump into a hot zone,” David called back to the loadmaster.
God if they have AA, we are so utterly ******… Then they rose over the last hill and there was the wall, with the door open, and some mechs around it.
“Fire!” he shouted, and a mix of large lasers and missiles stabbed down, sending a Locust tumbling in ruin.
Well, the lasers, the long range missiles, nearly 100, were all smoke missiles.
And into the smoke came 24 armored forms, second platoon of the first company.
One moment, the Marik troops were preparing to move forward to support their archer, two other mechs standing by, and the next moment one of those mechs was tumbled in fire, there was smoke everywhere, and out of the smoke…
Nightmares. A close range engagement between unprepared infantry and powered armor had been wargamed extensively—and it never went well for the infantry.
Buzzing machineguns cut soldiers in half, while a few found themselves, very shortly, in hand to hand combat.
Most of those survived, albeit with broken bones.
Rachan choked and ran forward. “The library!” He shouted to the pilot. “Destroy the library, fool!”
“Precentor!” one of the adepts called. “We must withdraw!”
“No!” he shouted. The Archer was staggering back, the pilot distracted by the fighting going on behind him. One of the other mechs, a Stinger went down as a trooper slapped a forty pound satchel charge behind a knee and detonated it, while other troops were now fleeing, broken by seeing their rifles ricochet off the armor of their enemies.
Rachan dodged forward, avoiding the vast bulk of the mech, pulling his pistol. “The library, destroy it—“
And then he saw a figure, protected by those damnable Tuarians, holding a data core. He lined up to shoot—
And screamed as a hand gripped his wrist, and effortlessly crushed it.
Standing over him was one of those daemonic suits, its scanners emotionlessly considering him.
“Comstar will destroy you for this,” he said.
The figure paused, glanced to the side. The sounds of fighting were dying down, and the Archer was backing up. Someone else had betrayed him.
“Well, I don’t know why, since we’ll be returning their Precentor to them.” The figure said. “Of course, Cakemix had a long conversation with the Gray Death Guy—tell me, why would Comstar kill 12 million people?”
Perhaps it was the agony of his shattered wrist, but Rachan snarled. “Their deaths were unimportant—they were expendable—“ Then his mouth snapped shut. The armored figure stared at him, then looked up behind him, and Rachan turned around to see the adepts.
“Precentor… That cannot be true, is it?” Larabee said, sounding like he could not believe his ears.
Rachan said nothing, clenching his teeth at the agony from his shattered bones.
“Right.” The figure turned to some others and nodded. “Right, we’ve got a truce going on, evidently they agreed with the Colonel. I want medical assistance for everyone we injured and…” it looked back down at Rachan. “I want medics and guards for our Precentor here. After all, we wouldn’t want anything to happen to him before he gets to Terra.”
Even through his clenched teeth, Rachan’s scream filled the room.
“Garth and his general just took off,” Mary told Colonel Langsdorf. “I don’t think they trust us.”
“Should I?” he asked. He, Mary, Carlyle and Sortek were in a small tent, spaced so that all the bodyguards could ensure that nobody was planning anything dastardly.
“Well you have thirty data cores,” Mary pointed out. “And we’ve finished cataloging the cache. You’re going to come out quite well.” And I’m gonna have to explain this to the protector. The Kuritans walked off with a regiment and data cores, as did the Gray Death Legion, the Davions, by throwing everything else out they could, were going to get about two regiments of Star League mechs, the core, and a selection of fighters and other equipment Sortek had brought, especially once he’d sent his message via the HPG to the Suns and NAIS had dropped a Christmas list.
Langsdorf was going to get three regiments of mechs, not to mention the vehicles and cores, as well as a dandy club house, especially since they’d figured out and shut down the self-destruct. Last but not least, he’d be getting some of the Federated Suns mechs, because he’d negotiated for them to not be destroyed when they were left behind to make room for the Star League mechs. Apparently, there were rumors of an unexpected opening for a new Duke of Irian that he might be asked to fill. Lord Garth, the last message said, might have to retire for reasons of ill health.
Especially when he landed, Mary thought. The Adepts had been very helpful, and they’d found information implicating several associates of Rachan along with the Precentor himself in the Atrocity.
And isn’t that going to be a mess, Mary shook her head. You didn’t just say ‘oops, I guess our employee screwed up’ for something that was up there with Kentares. She’d had to post some guards to the HPG due to pissed off locals.
“Attacking would start another war, and neither the First Prince nor the Archon want another war,” Ardan said.
“And we’re neutral,” Mary said. “And with our limited transport capability, the only thing we’re taking home are… A selection of infantry weapons, the core, and…” She sighed. “Several containers of preserved wine from Terra, including some 1982 vintages.” Infantry. An entire mountain complex full of miracles and leave it to them to find out where someone stashed the booze. On the other hand… Mary had handled one of those bottles and wondered if the long-dead Vintner who had bottled it would dream that one day it would be found on a world far from Earth.
Well, Baby II had been damaged badly enough that she was leaving her with Langsdorf, along with the other two Dragons, and in return they had three shiny new Royal Mechs.
Which you may be allowed to look at once or twice, once the techs back home get a look at them. That’s why Mary had chosen a Cyclops with the original tactical computer.
“And us?” Grayson asked.
“Well, you’re pretty obviously no longer under suspicion. So it’s no longer you’re under arrest, but…” Mary paused. “I have a request from the Protector that you come to the inquiry to assist in producing a report that will be distributed sphere-wide. Also…” She gestured at Langsdorf. “Your fault or not…”
“It would be difficult to work with us, yes,” The colonel said.
“I don’t hold it against you,” Grayson said. “Given what you knew.”
“The soldiers who killed your dependents in the assault will be punished,” Langsdorf said.
Not to mention Rachan, Mary thought. Right now, from what they were getting from the HPG, Hanse and the First Circuit were in a yelling match over who got him, but rumors indicated that they were both getting ready to accept Solomon’s solution with the baby.
Not her problem. Mary had her job, and she’d done it, if not as neatly as she’d prefer.
Story of my life, Mary thought.
It’s anticlimactic, Grayson thought. Their dropships had been joined by the Davion dropships and right now Davion officers and Marik militia were going over the list of what each would take, the military forces separated by the mountains. They’d been allowed to return to Helmsfast, and all the prisoners had been released into their custody—as had the bodies of the dead.
Too many.
He patted the data core Will this help us move beyond, or will it just let us make bigger guns? It had been the lost arts of the Star League that had ended the Star League. Even with this knowledge, can we be better than they are?
“We must assume that Rachan will tell all he knows,” Tiepolo said to the First Circuit. There is no way to minimize this disaster. “While it is true that we have convinced Davion to let one of our adept’s accompany him, we must assume, that even if they accept that Rachan went far beyond his remit, they will know that Comstar has been active in ****** technological progress.”
“The number of cores are limited.” Myndo Waterly steepled her hands. “Another Holy Shroud can—“
“Bullocks,” Precentor Taurus said. “We don’t know how many cores there are total, but if they used the cores on their dropships, we could be talking about over a hundred—and now that everyone knows about our side hobby, you can bet that ‘oops, what bad luck that someone just happened to blow up that building where you had a core’ isn’t going to fly.”
“Really, what is your wisdom?” Myndo asked. “Since it was your failure to restrain the Taurians that started this?”
“I’m sorry, I rather thought it was a ROM agent emulating ****** JINJIRO KURITA!” The older man bellowed. “We have had to close every one of our public outreaches from the petting zoo to the convention annex, because we have continual demonstrations going on outside.” The others nodded. Comstar might have disowned Rachan, but not everyone believed them.
“And what is your suggestion?” Tiepolo asked. Because I have no idea how to recover this disaster.
“The horse is out of the barn, hell the barn has burned to the ground. We need to accept that. Technological improvement is going to accelerate. What we have to do is use our moral authority to ensure that some things remain socially off limits, even if they can achieve them technologically.”
“That is not what Blake wanted,” Precentor New Avalon said.
“Sinners in hell want ice water, but they don’t get it, either.” Precentor Taurus shook his head. “Hell, those of you who studied your Blake know that his original plan was to reform the Hegemony by taking worlds close to Terra. He had to scrap that plan when he saw how nuts things were getting. We need to be flexible.”
“And that means?” Tiepolo asked, in part to distract from the anger he saw from some of the other’s regarding the implication they might not have read the histories of the Blessed Blake.
“That means we act like a cat that just fell off the shelf and tell everyone this was our plan all along. Rachan was a fool and a monster, who doesn’t represent what Comstar stands for—the ethical use of technology. And we remind everyone that during the First Succession war, Sirius VII wouldn’t even be fifth-page news.” He sighed. “And maybe the horse will learn to sing.”
I understand. The House Lords weren’t interested in ethics. They wanted Unity City and the Star League. But on the other hand… It’s not like you left us with a strong hand, Rachan. Tiepolo was looking forward to his execution, one of the few that you could say was merited from every viewpoint.
“We will provide full funding for the new Domes, and compensation for those who died. We will also hold sphere-wide services and remind our fellows that there are some limits we may not transgress, no matter our justifications.”
“But what about my B stations’ maintenance budget!”
And now we go from debating the future of the order, to debating who is going to pay for this.
The lights were going down over Samantha. Edward had always loved that, the darkness rising, but then the city lights coming on, beating it back, reminding all that mankind no longer hid in caves in fear from the dark.
“A metaphor for civilization” his tutor had called it.
And now… Twelve million, maybe fifteen million, dead at the hands of a man who could put us back in that cave. They were getting the cores, which meant that they were no longer going to have to pretend they found a maintenance depot. That excuse was getting thin, and it’d be much easier to hide the Prometheus core data.
And that’s what everyone else is going to do. Take the cores, hide them, put them in bases so that their enemies won’t find them. Conduct their research behind walls and gates and guards. And sooner or later, someone will decide to destroy their enemies’ research, and we’ll be right back where we are.
And what do I do? I never wanted this post, I knew one day I would take it, but I wanted to explore. Go places nobody had ever fought over, where growing meant finding new things, not stealing them.
A hundred cores could be destroyed. A hundred secret research installations would be targets. The Star League had kept their cores, usually locked behind code walls, with what people were allowed to get carefully curated. That was why so many cores had been so easy to destroy.
But what about a thousand? What about ten thousand? His staff would call him mad. But a no-account mercenary commander had put everything at risk, gave away the one thing that for all he knew could save him, for free. Because he thought that humanity deserved this knowledge.
“Humanity.” Edward nodded, and touched his intercom.
“Denise?”
“Sir?”
“I want the heads of the educational and Science ministries in here tomorrow. Clear my schedule.”
“Yes sir. What for?”
“To see if we can emulate Prometheus without the Gods getting angry at us.”
“Sir?”
“Never mind, just an educational opportunity I want to explore.”
“Yes, sir.”
And then Edward turned back to look at the blazing city, every light beating the darkness back.
