CHAPTER FIVE

Bangor Harbor

Evciler

Jade Falcon Occupation Zone

9 August 3071

Star Captain Vandal Hildenrath tried not to watch as the Khan lost her mind.

She knew few of the other Ice Hellion officers in the room were doing the same—most of them were going quietly insane along with her. Khan Raina Montose was hunched over the holotable, one hand clutching a forgotten noteputer, the other wrapped around a handful of her own black hair. Her eyes were wide and unfocused, but her lips were moving.

This was not the Raina Montose that Vandal had come to know. This was not the woman who’d led the Fortieth Hellion Lancers before she was Khan.

This was not that woman.

But it was.

Vandal chewed her lower lip and tried not to look at the other officers. Star Colonel Freed Hasbrin looked nauseous, but that could have been explained by the severe neurofeedback he’d taken in his ’Mech earlier that day. He was naturally a pale man.

Next to him, Star Colonel Patricia Rood’s mahogany skin hid much, but nothing could hide the smoldering anger in her eyes. She was staring at the Khan with a fearsome intensity. Vandal wanted to step closer to the older woman, to say something, but there was nothing to be said. Unless one of us were to challenge the Khan to a Trial of Position, Vandal chided herself, but that would be suicide. The Falcons would eat us alive.

The initial assault on Evciler had gone well, but the planet had been reinforced since the Hellion Watch’s last report. The whole of the Jade Falcon Alpha Galaxy was present, facing the weary Clusters of the Ice Hellion Alpha and Zeta Prime Galaxies. The Hellions had secured their landing zone near Bangor Harbor, but the Falcons were pressing on all sides. The Falcon commander, Galaxy Commander Brian Pryde, was pressing hard. He’d tried to declare a general Trial for Evciler, but the Khan had deferred, content to defend against smaller-scale Trials and inflict a few of her own.

It was a war of attrition—but the Falcons had more of everything.

Vandal took a deep breath. She was here because her Star Colonel was in the field hospital waiting for a new arm to bud. She was the senior Star Captain of the Fortieth Lancers—the Cluster fell to her, until there could be a formal Trial of Position. If no one else was going to say anything—

“We shall do it,” Khan Montose whispered.

No one spoke. Vandal looked at the Star Colonels, but none of them spoke. Patricia Rood looked as though if she did speak, it would be profanity.

“We will accept the Falcon Trial,” Montose said.

We will die, is what Vandal heard.

“This Falcon is overconfident,” the Khan continued. “He offers us first bid, promising to match his force to ours.” She looked down at the noteputer in her hand as if it were the first time she’d seen it. Vandal saw her blink, then frown. Then the Khan held the noteputer out until Star Colonel Hasbrin stepped forward to take it. “He is proud.”

“Perhaps we should counterbid,” Star Colonel Hasbrin offered. There was little conviction behind his words, but Vandal admired the simple courage it took to even utter them. “If we could gain one or two of their DropShips—”

“Neg.” The Khan’s voice showed more strength than it had in a while.

“Khan Montose—”

“No.”

Vandal shifted her weight. To her left and slightly behind her, just in the edge of her peripheral vision, she saw Patricia Rood move. Vandal turned her head just enough to see the Star Colonel loosen her laser pistol in its holster. Vandal’s eyes widened. Her mouth half-opened before she caught herself. Rood never looked at her.

“We will bid the Fortieth and Seventy-eighth Hellion Lancers.” Montose leaned against the holotable. Her left hand came down in the field projector, blotting the image. She appeared not to notice. “The rest of Zeta Prime will stand to nearby, to exploit any breakthrough we achieve.”

“When will we bid for command?” Vandal heard herself ask.

“There will be no bidding,” the Khan said. “I will command.”

“But—“ Vandal didn’t know who spoke. Maybe she had spoken.

“I will command, quiaff?” There was again—finally—steel in the Khan’s voice. She stood away from the table, finally meeting her officers in the eye. Vandal stood a little straighter when Montose’s eyes crossed hers. A chorus of “affs” filled the room.

Montose waited. When she spoke, she sounded tired. “Summon Galaxy Commander Eld Coddington. He shall make the reply to this Brian Pryde.” There was a soft snort behind Vandal. Montose didn’t hear it. Instead, she strode out of the room. Star Colonel Freed Hasbrin and the other Star Colonels followed, some already talking into communicators. Vandal waited.

The Fortieth. She would lead the Cluster into battle.

“The Fortieth,” a voice said.

Vandal spun. Star Colonel Patricia Rood stood leaning against the wall. She commanded the Seventy-eighth Hellion Lancers. The other Cluster the Khan had named. Without intending to Vandal looked down at the Star Colonel’s holster. It was securely fastened.

“Aff, Star Colonel,” Vandal said. “We are honored.”

“Neg. We are damned.”

“We are not damned,” Vandal said. Had she been aware of it she’d have been shocked at her tone. One did not speak to a Star Colonel of Patricia Rood’s stature in that tone. “We are honored. We will face the Jade Falcons in honorable combat.”

Even as she spoke, Vandal was surprised at herself. She’d just spent the last hour wondering if the Khan had lost her mind. Now she was defending this near-suicidal attack to a senior officer she respected. Am I so easily swayed by the promise of combat and glory?

Patricia Rood laughed. She threw her head back and laughed. She had a deep-throated laugh that sounded as though it began somewhere near her stomach. Vandal tensed. She felt the heat rising in her face. Her hands clenched into fists. She held her tongue, waiting for the Star Colonel to compose herself.

It didn’t take long. When she had caught her breath Patricia Rood grinned at her. “I am sorry. You have not been in these Galaxy-level meetings before.” She crossed her arms. “Tell me what you know about the Jade Falcon Alpha Galaxy.”

Vandal frowned. “They are new, mostly unblooded in combat. Their commander is listed as Kael Pershaw, Loremaster of the Grand Council. Brian Pryde is his second. Aside from the Falcon Khans, there is no one more senior.” If it weren’t for the fact that there were so damn many of them, Vandal would not be worried. But as the ancient maxim held, quantity had a quality all its own. Few knew that better than an Ice Hellion.

Rood chuckled. “They are filth.”

“They are Jade Falcons, yes.” Vandal tried to keep the frown from her face, but this was not a conversation she had imagined. Patricia Rood was perhaps the most respected Star Colonel in Alpha Galaxy—certainly the most feared. Vandal had never imagined her to be one of the unthinking zealots who classified warriors by their Clans and not by their abilities. “That does not make them filth.”

“It is not their Clan that taints them,” Rood said. “It is the warriors.” She snorted. “If they can be called such.”

“I do not understand.”

“There is but one Bloodname in the Falcons’ Alpha Galaxy. By mandate of the Falcon Khan.” Her grin went from entertained to condescending. “They are solahma. Or malcontents. Test-downers. Dregs. It is as if we are attacking a sibko of freebirths.”

Vandal stared at her.

Rood laughed again. “Welcome to Raina’s menagerie.”

“And the Khan,” Vandal said slowly, ignoring the Star Colonel’s gibe at the Ice Hellion senior Khan, “wishes to lead the assault?” Her dismay at the beginning of the staff meeting had been for the Khan’s strategy—but if she were debasing herself fighting the Falcon dregs…

“She does.” Rood stepped past her toward the door. Then she stopped. “Whatever your doubts, Star Captain, you must do your best against the Falcons. We must triumph, and we must do it without destroying ourselves. You have seen the reports.”

“The reports?”

Patricia Rood stopped at the door. “From the saKhan.” She waited, but Vandal only held out her hands. “The Falcons’ Gamma Galaxy has cut our line of retreat. Bone Norman fell to the Jade Falcon Guards. We had to take Golandrinas twice. Connor Rood is stalemated on Wotan by a provisional garrison Cluster.” She laughed, a short, harsh bark completely different from the belly laugh of earlier. “Connor Rood. Stalemated.”

“But the Khan—”

“—has chosen not to believe her saKhan.”

“We will beat this Galaxy of Falcon rejects,” Vandal said, trying to rally her confidence. They had to, after all. The decision was made. It could not be unmade, so wishing they weren’t fighting the Jade Falcons here on Evciler was worse than pointless.

Rood nodded. “No doubt. But at what cost?” Her eyes unfocused, as if she were looking at something only she could see. “Even as we kill them, they will be killing us.” 

“We can do nothing else,” Vandal said.

Patricia Rood’s eyes snapped back into focus. “Not while Raina Montose commands,” she said. She nodded to Vandal and then stepped out the door, leaving the Star Captain alone with the holotable. Vandal turned back to face the display, but despite the play of red and green icons across her eyes, she didn’t see it.

Instead, she saw the likely result of anyone, even Patricia Rood, challenging Raina Montose for command of Clan Ice Hellion while engaged with the Jade Falcons. Even a Galaxy of dregs would be enough to overrun them while they were embroiled in the Trials of Position and Refusal that would result.

That would be certain death.

Vandal switched the holotable off. Darkness enshrouded the room. She waited a moment, collecting herself. Then she turned and walked out of the room with a purpose. There was only one path that would lead to Clan Ice Hellion’s survival.

Victory.

Blinking rapidly to try and get her vision to settle down, Star Captain Vandal Hildenrath worked her controls, bringing her fifty-five-ton Black Lanner to its feet. The Jade Falcon Summoner that had knocked it to the ground stood nearby, waiting for its autocannon to reload. The PPC mount still spat sparks and arcing electricity, but Vandal’s lasers had dealt with the weapon itself. Her sight snapped back into focus as the Black Lanner gained its footing. The Summoner launched itself into the air on jump jets, its remaining arm held wide as if daring Vandal to fire.

“Fool,” she muttered. Her finger tightened, and six extended-range medium lasers snapped as one. Two of the brilliant scarlet beams missed, disappearing into Evciler’s sky, but the other four savaged the armor across the Summoner’s chest. The ’Mech wobbled in the air, off-balanced by the loss of armor.

A tone sounded in Vandal’s helmet an instant before the Black Lanner shuddered. Six short-range missiles leapt from the Lanner’s launcher and blasted into the Summoner as it descended. Smoke obscured Vandal’s view for a half-second, but the Summoner fell out of the smoke out of control and slammed into the ground more than a hundred meters from Vandal. She felt the shock through the Lanner’s frame.

“I told you,” she whispered. Heat shimmered in her vision as the Black Lanner’s heat sinks labored to drain the heat of her last salvo. She watched the temperature indicators for the Streak SRM-6’s ammunition magazine closely, but it only edged near the orange band. She moved her attention to the tactical screen.

The two Hellion Lancer Clusters had met two Clusters of the Jade Falcon Alpha Galaxy on the rolling flats between Bangor Harbor, the city, and the wide-mouthed harbor that the city was named for. The Khan’s Star had moved with the Fortieth Lancers, which had made Vandal both proud and uncomfortable. Proud, because the Khan was there to see her Cluster perform.

Uncomfortable, because the Khan was there to see her Cluster be destroyed.

The Falcon Clusters, despite the larger number of less-flexible second-line BattleMechs and ProtoMechs, were uniformly heavier than the Hellion ’Mechs. That was not uncommon, of course, but the Falcons were also more adept at pairing their machines via Trials and personal challenges than many of the other Falcons Vandal had fought. Rumor said the Falcon Alpha Galaxy was made up of a large number of former Falcon Watch operatives; they certainly fought like warriors who spent more time studying their opponents than crushing them.

Vandal brought her Black Lanner around toward where the Khan’s Star had been fighting. Just before the Summoner had challenged her, she’d heard Galaxy Commander Brian Pryde challenge the Khan herself. She needed to check on that. Her Star Captains would handle their Trinaries.

The diamond-caret of the Khan’s ’Mech was a little less than a kilometer away. The white-painted Stormcrow was dodging around the hulk of a Hellion Linebacker. The stout-bodied shape of a Falcon Jupiter stomped ponderously after her—Pryde. Leave it to a Falcon to choose a ’Mech almost twice the Khan’s weight.

Lasers flickered their nth-second pulses, connecting the two ’Mechs. Smoke burst from the Stormcrow’s left shoulder housing. Dialing the magnification, Vandal saw the limb dangle limply, the sure indicator of a destroyed shoulder actuator. That would cost Montose some much-needed firepower.

If she dies, Vandal found herself wondering, will a succession be easier? Who is senior? She looked at the far right corner of her tac screen, where the line of green icons of the Zeta Prime Galaxy waited. Galaxy Commander Eld Coddington was the most senior Hellion officer on-planet, after Khan Montose, but the trueborns of Alpha Galaxy would likely not follow him. Patricia Rood, then.

The Khan was not dead yet, though. And Ice Hellions had much experience fighting with damaged OmniMechs. Vandal pushed her throttle forward, keeping an eye on the nearby Falcons. If one of them challenged her, she’d have to stop. Until then, she watched the Khan. She knew what the Hellion leader would do. In a moment she’ll break forward and get in under the range of the Jupiter’s big guns—

The Stormcrow broke into a run, as Vandal had predicted, but not forward.

It ran toward the rear.

Vandal blinked. She is just withdrawing to gain room to maneuver.

The Khan’s icon on her tac screen blinked, indicating an outgoing radio message.

A Star of Harpy ProtoMechs broke into a run toward the Stormcrow. It was a Flurry Star, one of the ad hoc attachments to Alpha Galaxy that many of the Galaxy’s regular warriors disdained. The Khan ran right through them, ignoring the trailing fire from Pryde’s Jupiter. 

The Harpies opened fire on the Jupiter.

She is running away.

Vandal’s com board pinged, announcing a fresh challenge from a Jade Falcon. She didn’t even glance at it. Her entire attention was directed at the Khan’s fleeing Stormcrow. It had slowed, well out of range of Pryde’s Jupiter. Outside of whatever Circle of Equals they had agreed to. The Khan had forfeited the Trial. 

She ran away.

The Khan of Clan Ice Hellion had run away.

Vandal swallowed. She swallowed again, trying to hold the bile down. The com board pinged again, as the Falcon broadcast his challenge again. A PPC exploded a patch of soil forty meters in front of her Black Lanner. She pulled back on the throttle, slowing the charging ’Mech.

Brian Pryde tore into the Harpies attacking him. The light ProtoMechs—smaller machines, using mutilated former aerospace pilots directly tied to their machines—tried to dodge, but the Falcon Galaxy Commander’s gunnery was too good. One of the Protos exploded, then another. The Falcon’s Starmates were driving forward, firing. Long-range missiles and laser fire began to fall around the Protos and the nearest Hellion ’Mechs.

They have abandoned zellbrigen.

Vandal touched her com board. “Star Colonel Patricia Rood.”

There was a momentary hash of static, then the pinched voice of the Star Colonel filtered out of her helmet speakers. “I am busy, Star Captain.”

“The Khan had fled.” Silence. “She has withdrawn from the Circle. The Falcons pursue her.”

“And?”

Vandal wanted to scream. “She ran away.”

A warning tone sounded from her tactical display. She looked to her left, where the ranks of the waiting Zeta Prime Galaxy were breaking. White-and-blue ’Mechs were sprinting forward, toward the Jade Falcon lines. “What are they doing?”

“This is our chance,” Patricia Rood said. “Turn and engage. Your entire Cluster.”

Vandal blinked. “But—”

“The Primes think the Falcons have broken zellbrigen. They are advancing to protect the Khan.” Vandal looked where the Khan’s Stormcrow had run. It was amidst a clump of Fortieth Lancer ’Mechs, watching the Jade Falcon Star get closer. Why has she stopped? A pair of errant LRMs blasted dirt from the ground near the Stormcrow’s clawed foot, throwing clods of soil and debris against the ’Mech’s armor. It took a step forward, toward the Jade Falcons.

“But she ran away,” Vandal muttered.

“That does not matter now,” Rood said. There was a rumble over the com line, and then Rood was back. “We must win. This is our chance. We can tell the story right after the battle, when we hold Evciler and the Jade Falcons have run.”

“We sacrifice our honor.”

Rood snorted. “The Clan is more important than our honor. The Clan needs an Alpha Galaxy and a Khan. Even Raina Montose.”

Vandal turned her Black Lanner toward the Falcon who’d fired the PPC at her. It was half-turned, lasers flickering at a charging Hellion OmniMech. Her fingers brought the Lanner’s targeting sight over the Falcon ’Mech’s heart without thinking about it.

The Khan’s Stormcrow broke into a limping run toward the battle line.

Vandal did the same. 

She felt empty inside.