CHAPTER FOUR

Red Stone Palace

Bone Norman

Clan Ice Hellion Occupation Zone

30 June 3071

Despite the pain from his burns, Connor Rood kept his face impassive as the merchant and labor factors recounted the status of Bone Norman’s lower castes. The chair he’d found in this office had a small back and no arms, forcing him to lean forward on the desktop with his hands clasped in front of him. Which made the skin beneath his burned shoulder pull taut over muscle.

Which hurt. He held up a hand. “Enough.” The woman who’d been speaking, Merchant Factor Elise, closed her mouth, but her eyes flashed. Rood ignored the insolence. “I am satisfied that your castes are working ably. Ice Hellion senior factors may feel differently. For now, all I care about is that you begin the steps necessary to integrate Bone Norman and its enclaves into Clan Ice Hellion.”       

“We don’t have enclaves,” the labor factor, Gerald, said. He was a large man, with wide heavy shoulders and a strong back. He was going to flab as he aged, but Rood saw the muscle beneath the fat. “We have cities. Although the Jade Falcons tried several time to mold us into the Clan model, in the end it was less wasteful to simply adapt our existing infrastructure to support the Clan economy.”

“Fine.” Rood closed his eyes for a moment, not caring what the factors thought. Settlements on the Clan homeworlds were based on the enclave model—small, defensible and largely contained urban areas—and were traded regularly in Trials of Possession. If Bone Norman was too large for that, it was a matter for the lower caste factors to work out. “I am sure we will speak again.”

Gerald inclined his head and stood. Elise stood as well, but dipped her chin and said “My Khan.” The two filed out, Gerald gesturing Elise to precede him. She was a small woman, small-boned with delicate features. Idly Rood wondered if the two were coupling, but didn’t let his mind linger on the matter. The lower castes’ ideas of procreation and romance were far too confusing and intricate to waste his time on.

As soon as the two factors cleared the doorway, Idris stepped into the office. The former Jade Falcon officer—now Rood’s bondsman, as indicated by the three blue-white cords wrapped around his wrist—stepped two paces inside the door and stopped. Rood looked up at him, waiting.

“A loss, they say,” Idris finally said.

“You are sure.”

Idris raised an eyebrow. “I know I am still new to the Ice Hellions—but do technicians normally lie to bondsmen of the Khan?”

Rood snorted. “No. My apologies.” He spread his hands and pushed himself to his feet. “It is a testament to my wisdom in making you a bondsman, we shall say.” He smiled at the former Falcon. “If my Kit Fox cannot be repaired, we shall have to choose a replacement ’Mech for me before the next Trial.”

Idris stepped to the side to let Rood precede him out of the office, then followed. The small office was set to the side of the main situation room in the bowels of Red Stone Palace, the ancient command center on Bone Norman. It had, in fact, previously been Idris’ office. As the former senior Falcon officer on-world, Idris had been instrumental in identifying which lower castemen could best oversee the transition from Jade Falcon to Ice Hellion administration. Any castemen would obey a warrior’s orders, of course—or quickly learn to, assuming he survived the instruction—but Idris had been on Bone Norman to learn which of the lower castemen knew their jobs.

Star Captain Lira had the watch this hour. She stood in the center of the operations pit, watching over the shoulders of the technician caste station operators. A noteputer was clutched in her hand, but she rarely accessed it. Rood stopped and watched her for a moment, enjoying the simple physical confidence she displayed. Born of a Taney sibko, she was already assured a sponsor in the next Trial of Bloodname for an acceptable Taney Bloodname.

She turned to look at the next console and saw Rood and Idris. She inclined her head in respect and returned to her duty. Rood smiled. She respected him, of course. But she had also been his tactical second for so long that she knew he wanted her focused more on her duties than on subservience. When he wanted to speak with her he would; she knew that.

“The doctor asked me to remind you of your appointment,” Idris said.

Rood twisted to look at him and regretted it when the burned skin pulled. “So he can tell me I need to rest?”

“No doubt.”

“I know I need to rest,” Rood said. “When I have time, I will.” He started toward the pit where Lira stood, gesturing for Idris to follow. “Right now I need to know what the Khan’s orders are. Perhaps they will even make sense this time.” He bit his lip as soon as the words were out—those were not words anyone else needed to hear. Not even Idris, whose status as a bondsman was little better than slave.

He reached Lira and stopped. “Report.”

“My Khan.” Lira looked past him at Idris but didn’t speak to him. “The HPG download is expected momentarily.” She gestured toward a technician at the correct console. “Once we have decoded it, I will bring it to you.” She smiled. “There is no need for you to wait for it. Surely the doctors have told you to rest.”

“They have,” Rood said, grinning back.

“I have heard that the Roods are terrible listeners,” she said.

“Nonsense. We hear fine.”

“That is not what I said, my Khan,” she replied. “But of course you do.” The technician at the HPG console extracted a chip and held it out to Lira, who took it and inserted it into her noteputer. She tapped the screen a few times, entering the correct cipher, and then handed the device to Rood. 

“There is a message from the Khan,” he said. He tapped the text-only file open and scanned the few lines of text. By the fourth word he had bitten his upper lip to keep from cursing. By the end of the message he knew his blood pressure was higher than the doctors would have liked, but he tapped the message closed and made himself calm down before he spoke again.

“Khan Rood?” Lira asked. “Has Khan Montose agreed to your proposal to reinforce our garrisons, in light of the lack of defenses we encountered?” Her voice was calm and even, but pitched to carry. No doubt everyone in the pit had heard her question. A part of Rood’s mind was angry at her—the business of Khans was not meant for lower caste ears. But that part was a small part. Because the larger part—the part of him that watched and recognized how people worked together—saw what she had done.

She had planted a seed of doubt in everyone’s mind about Khan Montose. No matter the answer, his reputation would be enhanced. If the Khan agreed with his plan, he would be the visionary leader who foresaw the coming Jade Falcon counterattack and blunted it, making certain the many worlds the Hellions had won in the last month were held.

If the Khan vetoed his plan, that same counterattack would gut the new Ice Hellion occupation zone. It would make the Hellions’ gains a mere blip, rather than a victory worth defending. And the inevitable loss of respect and honor would go—in the minds of everyone in the room, and everyone those in the room spoke to—to Khan Montose, for ignoring her saKhan’s advice.

“She has not,” he said, just as loudly. There was more in the message, of course, but the gist was all that was needed. He handed the noteputer back. “Forward the rest of the message queue to my desk on Rapacious.” Lira nodded and turned to her people. Rood spun on his heel and addressed himself to Idris.

“Find Star Colonel Jeremy Cage. Tell him to finish the Trials for the new garrison commander today. We are leaving Bone Norman.” Idris nodded, but didn’t move. “Yes?”

“That was nicely done,” Idris said. “Did you arrange that with her?”

“Arrange what?”

“That show you and Star Captain Lira just put on.” Idris grinned. “An hour from now it will be all over the gossip network. No doubt the crewers on the DropShips will hear before we boost. You have undercut the Khan.”

Rood stared at him. “That was no plan,” he said.

“Then you are a lucky man, my Khan.” Idris glanced at Lira. “To inspire such loyalty.”

Rood stepped past him. “Loyalty is not inspired,” he said over his shoulder. Idris hurried to follow. “It is earned.” He entered the corridor that would take him to the Palace infirmary. The other direction would take Idris toward the ’Mech bays.

“So it is,” Idris said. He stopped. “So long as the Jade Falcons attack.”

“They are your former Clan,” Rood said. He kept his face impassive. “Will they come?”

Idris’ grin wasn’t at all respectful. It was predatory. “They knew you were coming, Khan Rood,” he said. “Imagine the sun not rising tomorrow before you imagine Samantha Clees not retaking this world.”

Rood licked his lips. “See to your task.”

Idris ducked his chin and walked away. Rood continued toward the infirmary. The burns where the last Elemental Point’s flamers had penetrated his Kit Fox’s cockpit were torturous. Not so painful as when they’d been inflicted—that had been white-hot icefire—but still annoyingly painful.

Idris had been right. If the Jade Falcons did not counterattack, Lira’s ploy would backfire. He would be the fearful Khan who was afraid of a nonexistent threat. He’d be a laughing stock, and that could open him to a Trial of Position for the Khanship. It was a gamble, to be sure. But Rood was fairly sure he had stacked the deck.

Because like Idris had said, there was no chance that the Falcons would not counterattack. None of the expected frontline Clusters had been present at their garrison stations. Each of the Beta Galaxy Clusters, save the Lithe Kill, had faced only solahma, and even then only penny-packets in Binaries or even single Stars. Almost a dozen worlds had been taken, but Khan Montose had already ordered him to push deeper into the Falcon OZ. Ice Hellion garrison Binaries and Trinaries would take up the stations they’d just finished blasting Jade Falcons out of.

Only a fool would think forces that same scale would hold these worlds against the Jade Falcon counterattack.

      Rood reached the lift toward the living levels and punched the button. Moving his arm out drew his uniform blouse against his burned skin. His lips drew back in a snarl, but it was only half pain.

      A fool—or Raina Montose.

The Ice Hellion Star Colonel standing at the foot of the white-painted Ice Storm stood at parade rest, hands clasped behind his back and feet shoulder-width apart. He didn’t look away from whatever spot on the far wall he’d focused on when Rood and Star Captain Ephraim Cage walked up. Rood traded a glance with Cage and schooled his features.

“Star Colonel Benito.”

“My Khan.”

“You have won command of the Bone Norman garrison, quiaff?”

“Aff, my Khan.”

Rood kept his face impassive. “You have chosen your officers?”

“I have, sir.”

Rood licked his lower lip with the tip of his tongue. “Stand easy, Star Colonel.” The Hellion officer relaxed a bit, and met Rood’s eyes. He couldn’t see Ephraim Cage behind him, but he knew the DropShip commander was smirking. “Tell me your orders.”

“I am to hold Bone Norman for Clan Ice Hellion.” Rood waited, but Benito said nothing else. He was unremarkable looking, pale and black-haired, with wiry muscles and poor posture. His eyes were closer together than most people found attractive. 

“And how will you do that?”

“With all the strength at my disposal,” Benito said instantly.

“You have two Clusters.” Rood gestured at the light ’Mech standing behind the Star Colonel. “What if the Falcons arrive with a full Galaxy, as we did?”

“I—” Benito blinked. “They will bid—”

Rood cut him off. “If they do not?”

“They are Jade Falcons. They will bid.”

“And if they do not?”

Benito set his jaw. “Then I will die.”

Rood smiled. “One hopes not.” He slapped the Star Colonel on the shoulder. “If they will not honor zellbrigen, you must do two things. You must use the HPG to alert the Clan. And you must do as the Falcons did against us—fade into the landscape and keep them pinned here until we can return to relieve you.”

Benito’s face displayed the war he was fighting with his emotions. He was new to Beta Galaxy, and was not familiar with the… oddness… of Connor Rood. His conflict didn’t last long. He banished his discontent and nodded. “Aff, my Khan.”

“Good.” Rood held out his hand, and shook Benito’s when the younger man accepted. “Do your duty to the Clan, Star Colonel.” He spun on his heel and walked away. Ephraim Cage followed him, still having not spoken. The two men headed out of the ’Mech bay onto the tarmac of the small military port. The towering monolith of Rapacious blocked the sunlight when they were outside.

“He will do it if anyone can,” Cage offered.

“Aff.”

“We have gained much here.”

“Aff.”

Cage grunted. “This is the oratory that won you the Khanship, I take it.”

Rood stopped. His fingers clenched into fists and unclenched at his side. He stared up at the bulk of the DropShip, eyes unfocused. “I should—we should stay.”

“The Jade Falcons are coming.”

Rood glanced at the small man. “All the more reason to stay.” He waved an arm at the distant landscape. “This is an Ice Hellion world now.” His outstretched hand clenched into a fist. “We took it. In the best traditions of the Clans.” His hand flicked out, fingers opening. “And now we will give it away.”

“Perhaps not ‘give.’”

Rood looked back at the ’Mech hangar, past Cage. “Oh, he will do his duty. And like he said, most likely die in the defense. Again, in the best traditions of the Clans.” He looked at Cage, who stared back. He has only two Flurry Clusters and a Trinary of trueborns.

“But?”

Rood sighed. “But nothing.” He rubbed the knuckles of his left hand with his right. “I know my duty. He knows his. You know yours. We are slaves to it, and because of that, slaves to our Khan.”

“Sir—”

“No.” Rood looked up and met Cage’s eyes again. “I know. It does not matter.” He slapped his hands together, once, sharply. Then he turned back toward the DropShip. “Let us go. The Dark Nebula awaits.”

“I have heard the stories of Camelot Command,” Ephraim Cage said as he fell into step beside his Khan. “We spacers talk, of course.”

“Star Admiral Montose will have taken it by now.” Rood glanced up at the DropShip. The name—RAPACIOUS—was picked out in bold letters across the white-blue hull, above the snarling insignia of the Ice Hellion Clan.

“I will be glad to have seen it,” Cage said quietly.

Rood smiled. “As will I.” He forced a grin onto his face. “Who knows? Perhaps Khan Montose is having the same cakewalk we are.”