CHAPTER EIGHT

Overlord C-class DropShip Rapacious

Lackhove

Clan Jade Falcon Occupation Zone

3 October 3071

Connor Rood stared at the package on the desktop in his small cabin aboard Rapacious. It was extruded plastic, the casing for some technical component. A circuit board of some kind. He didn’t know what it did, nor did he care, so long as it served his purpose. He wasn’t interested in the component’s function. He cared about the case.

It bore the rampant horsehead of the Hell’s Horses Clan.

He rubbed his freshly-shaved skull. When he lowered his hands he examined them, eyeing the thick black fingers and the callouses of a man who worked out regularly. They were strong hands, hands he had accomplished great things with.

And now, he snarled into his mind, those things are undone because of an incompetent glory hound and a power-mad woman who will not see reality.

The hatch slid open. Idris stepped through, a questioning look on his face. “I have examined the latest shipment. The supplies are good.” He gestured to the container on the desktop. “And with a small amount of paint, one would never know where they came from.”

Connor swept the carton off the desk. “It came from Steelton.”

“You did not wish to attack the Horses?”

“I had an arrangement with the Horses. They agreed to leave the Falcons to us.”

“Ah.” Idris smiled. “And now?”

“I do not know.” Even as he said the words, though, his mind shouted at him that he was a liar. You know exactly what James Cobb will do. You have met the man. You have spoken with him, bargained with him. Our agreement is at an end. He rubbed his hands together, mind working. The Khan would not authorize a withdrawal, but perhaps once the resupply convoy from Hector arrived they could rally and mount one last offensive. If we strike hard enough, perhaps we can shock the Falcons into giving us time to consolidate. He looked at Idris.

“What do you think your former brethren would do—” he began, but stopped at a chime on the hatch. At his nod Idris cycled it open to reveal the small form of Star Captain Ephraim Cage.

“My Khan.”

“Ephraim. Are you all right?”

Cage was pale, paler than normal. His face was pinched, and he avoided looking Rood in the eyes. He almost seems frightened.

“I have news, my Khan.” Cage held out a noteputer. “There has been an attack.”

“An attack?”

“On our resupply convoy.”

Rood sat down. He didn’t take the noteputer. Idris reached past Cage and took it before spinning to sit in one of the two small chairs. “Tell me.”

“A Jade Falcon WarShip, Emerald Tornado, stumbled onto the flotilla at Falcon’s Beacon. Star Captain Fordham, the senior warrior present…” Cage swallowed. His lips disappeared as he pressed them together.

“Say it.”

“He surrendered, sir.”

Rood closed his eyes. He concentrated on his breathing. It cannot be as bad as it first seems, he reminded himself. Freebirth. It was much worse than it seemed. When he opened his eyes he looked at Idris. The bondsman nodded. “I am going to need a new appraisal,” he said slowly, “of the current state of Beta Galaxy’s expendables and replacement parts.” The bondsman stood.

“I will see to it,” Idris said.

“No.”

Idris turned away from the hatch. “What?”

“You will order someone else to do it.” He pulled himself to his feet and reached behind his back. Cage stepped back, clearing the way, as Rood leaned over his desk. “Your hand.”

Idris frowned, but held out his wrist. The bondcord, the symbolic length of string wrapped around his wrist that marked him as a bondsman, dangled. Rood flicked his knife between the cord and Idris’ skin, severing the remaining two knots. “You are again a warrior,” he said. “We will need every one, especially now.”

“My Khan—”

“You are a warrior of Clan Ice Hellion,” Rood said. “Welcome, brother.”

Idris looked from his wrist to the severed bondcord on the desk. He picked the blue-white tendril and turned it over in his hands. Ephraim Cage reached out and touched Idris’ shoulder.

“Welcome, brother,” Cage said. The DropShip captain smiled.

“I—”

“Have duties,” Rood finished. “As soon as we have taken Lackhove, you will undergo a Trial of Position. You do me little good as a common MechWarrior.”

Cage cleared his throat. “Then we proceed to Lackhove?”

“Of course.”

“But—” the DropShip captain gestured to the noteputer Idris had set on the desk.

“It does not matter.”

“It does not matter?”

“No.” Rood held up the knife he’d just used to free Idris. “We are this blade, now.” He slid it back into the sheath at the small of his back. “The only way forward is victory.” He met each man’s—each warrior’s—eyes in turn. “There is nothing else we can do now, but move forward and take what we need to survive.”

“If we fail…” Ephraim Cage whispered.

Rood’s voice was strong. “If we fail, it is the death of our Clan.”

He drew in a deep breath.

“We cannot fail.”

Connor Rood and his Ice Hellions will return in

The Winds of Spring: Operation ICE STORM, Part Two.