Impetus of War Page 2

  "There's only one way I know of to test the mettle of a MechWarrior, Colonel," Loren said.

  Andrea Stirling nodded in agreement. "Yes, on the field of combat. And that's why I'm proposing a test of your training program. Bill MacLeod has agreed to run a test between his command battalion and ours. The Highlanders are expecting a visit from a potential employer any day now. I want that visitor to see what stuff we're made of."

  "This potential employer, will they have an interest in our anti-Clan tactics?"

  Cat Stirling nodded once, slowly and carefully. "You could say that. The Draconis Combine has weathered the brunt of the Clan invasion, and the bastards are still poised over their heads like an executioner's axe.

  "For the first time ever, Major, the Northwind Highlanders are considering an offer of a contract with the Combine. Theodore Kurita wants to take the fight right to the doorstep of the Clans, but he's going to need a lot of help doing it."

  BOOK I

  Visions

  An empire founded by war has to maintain itself by war.

  —Montesquieu

  There is no victory except through our imaginations.

  —Dwight D. Eisenhower

  1

  Home Plains

  Avon

  Smoke Jaguar/Nova Cat Occupation Zone

  1 May 3058

  Star Colonel Devon Osis cut a path through the wind-whipped grass of the Home Plains, crushing reed-like, meter-tall grasses with each step. Before him was the tent of the Khan of the Smoke Jaguars, and beyond that he saw the sky reddening as Avon's sun slowly sank from view. Also visible on the horizon were the menacing outlines of two Stars' worth of the Jaguars' most fearsome weapons, their Omni-Mechs. Each one of the ten-meter-tall war machines bristled with pod-mounted weapons, though from here they looked more like statues silhouetted against the dying light, sentinels guarding the vast plains from a foe nowhere to be seen.

  When Devon Osis had first arrived on Avon, the sight had been a splendor to him. Now it only reminded him that he was a warrior without a war. Continuing on to the tent's far end, he pulled open the flap to enter. Dominating the space within was a portable holographic projection table. On it was a green-lit projection of the plains Devon Osis had just spent the last half-hour crossing. Standing at the table was the unmistakable figure of Lincoln Osis, Khan of the Smoke Jaguars. He rested his black-skinned hands wide on the edge of the table as he leaned over the projected display.

  The Khan's long face was as serious as ever in the gloom as he looked up at his visitor, those hard, dark eyes seeming to burn with some deep inner fire. Despite the losses and humiliation the Jaguars had suffered in the monumental battles of Luthien and Tukayyid, Lincoln Osis had prevailed and with him the spirit of the Smoke Jaguars. He had taught his warriors that survival was the key to victory. That was why Devon saw his Khan as the leader who would carry their Clan on to a greater future—one where the Smoke Jaguars dominated not only the other Clans, but the whole of the Inner Sphere as well.

  Star Colonel Devon Osis stood at attention while the Khan continued to study the table. The holographic image showed the placement of the OmniMechs seen in the distance as well as their opponents at the other end of the table.

  "My Khan," Devon said in a crisp military voice, dipping his head in reverence.

  "These sibkos are preparing yet another drill." Khan Osis spoke tersely, almost angrily. "They lack boldness in their bidding."

  Devon looked over at the holographic table and nodded, not fully understanding. Lincoln Osis shot him a look. "Time is our greatest enemy these days," he said, half-under his breath. "A greater foe than any of our fellow Clans are willing to admit. It hangs about our necks like a hangman's noose, getting tighter with each passing day." Devon Osis could not tell whether the Khan was addressing him or talking to himself.

  "Heed my words, Devon, it is not a treaty line that holds us in place, it is time. In the end, time is the enemy we must defeat."

  Devon nodded. "What is your command of me?"

  "You remember our discussion of the Tau Galaxy a while back, quiaff?"

  "Aff. They were months from being ready, as I recall," Devon said. The discussion was one he remembered well for the handful of secrets the Khan had opened to him. Forged on the Jaguar homeworld of Huntress, Tau Galaxy was a newly formed unit. Its warriors were much-needed truebirth replacements, engineered from the best of the Smoke Jaguar genetic heritage. And the formation of this new Galaxy was, for the most part, a secret.

  "Like the hunting jaguar, we will stalk this enemy that is time, and defeat it. The Tau Galaxy is not just a dream, but a reality that is on its way to the Inner Sphere as we speak. It will give our Clan the savage bit needed to win eventual victory." The Khan's eyes glittered with battle-lust.

  "Their arrival will mark a new era for the Smoke Jaguar," he went on. "The time has come to right the wrongs of the past. First, we were forced to share our invasion corridor with the Nova Cats, who promptly stole some of our worlds. Then we lost many brave warriors at Tukayyid and again in the battle of Luthien. The Nova Cats held us back at Luthien, and now the Wolves try to prove that we are a weakened Clan and carry out attacks against our worlds. We must no longer be at the mercy of events, but take bold action. And the time for action is now."

  Devon Osis nodded slightly, drinking in each word. The Tau Galaxy was fresh and powerful, the best of the Smoke Jaguar genetic legacy. Its arrival meant that the Draconis Combine and the rest of the Inner Sphere were ripe for the taking. All that separated the Clans from the prize of the Inner Sphere was the imaginary truce line at the planet Tukayyid, and that line became more blurred with each passing day. "The Combine worships the Dragon, but we will crush these barbarians like the paper tigers they are, and the path to Terra will be ours to take."

  The Khan of the Smoke Jaguars bristled at the words. "Negative, Star Colonel. You must look beyond the Combine in your thoughts. Clan Nova Cat, that is our target. Ulric Kerensky hung them around our necks like an albatross. They stole our worlds, then their fighting manner cost us victory on Luthien. We have shouldered the burden of them for too long now. They were brought here to drain us, like a leech, so that when the time came to move, we would be too weak to seize Terra, too weak to assume our rightful destiny as the ilClan."

  Devon knew that Lincoln Osis was right. Clan Nova Cat had been given the Smoke Jaguar assault corridor to share during the latter part of the invasion of the Inner Sphere. After stealing several worlds away from the Jaguars, they had dug themselves in. When the Treaty of Tukayyid did expire, they were poised to give the Smoke Jaguars a swift race toward Terra. Devon found himself admiring his Khan even more.

  "We will crush the Nova Cats," he said, his blood beginning to race.

  Lincoln Osis nodded. "The Tau Galaxy is fresh and from the finest of our genetic pool. I have spared no expense to train and equip them with the best equipment our Clan possesses. They have been pawed and mauled hard, and have now been blooded by only the best." The words gave Devon a kind of thrill, almost like what he felt when Lincoln Osis put on the ceremonial mask and became the Jaguar himself.

  The Khan placed his hands on Devon's shoulders. "You have tested to the rank of Galaxy Commander but have no Galaxy to command, Devon Osis. You have carried your old rank until a new unit was available. Now one is. I grant you the Tau Galaxy."

  "I will not disappoint you, my Khan."

  "There is no room for the failures of the past. The Wolves are frothing at our door, striking at us to regain the honor the Jade Falcons beat from them. The Falcons play games with their sibkos, trying to prove their strength. The Steel Vipers are coiled and prepared to strike at any moment. The Ghost Bears huddle in their caves, waiting and watching.

  "And then there are the Nova Cats. They are a cancer on us, draining us of our strength." The Khan paused for a moment, his face contorted in disgust.

  "Like freebirth mystics, they stare upward into the night, seeking counsel fr
om whatever spirits they imagine reside there. They consult the seers and the stars to see their way. Tonight, when the Khan of the Cats looks into the night sky asking for a vision to guide him, he will see the Smoke Jaguar. You will be that Jaguar.

  "Tau Galaxy will arrive shortly on our base at Wildcat. You will go there, and take command from Star Colonel Roberta, who has brought the Galaxy here from the home-worlds. Complete their training and draw up strategy for making use of them. I will tell you when the time is right, and when it is—the Jaguar goes hunting once more."

  * * *

  The cool night breezes brushed against Star Colonel Santin West, but the heat of the roaring bonfire beat back the cold of Mount Neyzari as he sat huddled there under the dark skies of Tarnby. He shifted slightly, adjusting his stiff crossed legs as he stared into the roaring flames. He was not tall by Elemental standards, just under 2.5 meters when standing. His bleached white hair was cropped like a porcupine's quilled back, and despite the cold up here, he wore only shorts and the skin of a female Nova Cat around his shoulders. The deep circles under his eyes looked even darker in the flicker of the bonfire.

  He stared into the flames and felt his body list slightly, then correct itself. It had been six days since he had last eaten, and at least forty-eight hours since he had slept. His strength was fading quickly, but as the Oathmaster assured him, this was the best way to catch a vision. The Rite of the Vision was one of the most honored and mysterious of the Clan Nova Cat rituals, and he did not want to fail—again.

  Santin West's previous attempts at the Rite seemed like a lifetime ago in his mind. One had come after Luthien, when he had hoped to learn what the future might hold. But no vision had come. Then came the bloodbath of Tukayyid. The death of sibkin who had grown up with him and survived the grueling warrior training of their sibko had hurt him in ways he still did not totally understand.

  This time was different for him. He lusted to know the future—not just for himself but for the Clan as a whole. The past could not be changed. But to see into the mists of what was yet to be could give his people power to shape the present.

  His eyes wandered down to the small pile of relics in front of him. These were his vineers, mementos of battles past. Each Nova Cat warrior kept such relics of great battles in which he or she had taken part. Usually they were stored in a leather pouch and worn only during ceremonies, but the Rite of the Vision demanded that the vineers be sacrificed to the flames. They were not mere trinkets; each one served as a spiritual focus for a warrior, preserving a memory and, more important, the reason the memory was important. To a Nova Cat, the vineer was topped in importance only by the codex bracelet that carried his or her official service record and everything else of importance, down to the warrior's DNA code. The difference was simple. The codex was an official record, the vineer carried that which was personal and beyond record.

  Santin West saw the small piece of Elemental armor he had taken from his final opponent the day he had won his Bloodname. It was twisted and mauled, recalling the joy he had felt at winning the contest. There was also a torn bandanna, a relic of the warrior he had bested in the Trial of Position for the rank of Star Captain. Next to it, he saw the small finger broken off his first Elemental suit during the Trial of Position that had earned him the rank of Star Colonel.

  There was also a thin strand of myomer cable, the material that served as the "muscle" of a BattleMech. Looking at it, he remembered the battle on Caripace and the fight the Combine MechWarrior had given him. There were also pieces of cockpit glass among his vineers, each taken from other opponents he had bested during the invasion.

  Also among the vineers was an earring, charred black and half-melted. Santin West had taken it from a Kell Hound when his own unit was destroyed in the Kadoguchi Valley during the fight for Luthien. But he felt no shame for that battle despite the loss of his comrades. They had fought well, meeting death just as he hoped to one day, fighting to the end and beyond. Such was the way of warriors.

  There was one icon in the pile of vineers that seemed to stand out. The patch showed the ComStar logo and the golden and white symbols of the 244th Division. Tukayyid. He had been there, and this was his link to that battle. Seeing the wrinkled patch, burned slightly on one edge, brought back the roar of the autocannon and the shrieks of battle as he remembered the slaughter.

  Santin looked up from the vineers, his mind still lost in memories of the past. The Oathmaster was standing next to him. She sprinkled a white powder into the flames, then added several hardwood logs. The powder crystals flashed brilliant green, blue, and blood red in the flames. Oathmaster Biccon Winters dropped several pellets into the roaring flames as well. These were incense, and their heady aroma seized and held Santin West's senses. The logs, some still holding moisture, popped and sent sparks into the night air.

  His eyes moved to the source of the raging bonfire, and he fixed his gaze on the glowing orange coals at the base of the fire. Spotted black with carbon from their burning, the embers seemed to shimmer with radiating heat. Continuing to stare at them, he felt a sense of vertigo, but could not tell whether he was falling or being pulled into the heart of the fire.

  In the glowing embers he saw a dark shape. As he held it with his gaze, it seemed to take form, becoming a pouncing cat. Santin West's eyes were wide with excitement as he stared at it. Following the outline of the cat, he began to see another yellowish-orange figure appear among the coals. Again, he saw a hunting cat, this one seemingly in mid-leap.

  From the bottom-most layer of the coals he saw yet another outline—this time only the head of a cat—come into focus. The three images shimmered in the waves of heat rising from the fire, all seeming as real as if they were alive.

  Suddenly the logs shifted and dropped down over the embers. The movement and the sound shattered his concentration for a moment, and when his eyes blinked open again he saw that one of the images had been destroyed by the slight cascade of logs in the fire. The first dark shape remained, but it did not seem to be fighting, only standing. The other, the cat's head, was undamaged but now seemed to change before his eyes. Santin's breath raced, his heart throbbing like a horse in mid-race, yet he was unable to move, suspended in time and space before the fire.

  The cat's head seemed to darken and take on the visage of a grinning skull. It bowed to him, as if offering a concession. Santin West reached out for it, but the logs shifted again, this time destroying the cat's skull that had grinned so devilishly at him. He dropped his hand back to his knee and shook his head softly.

  "You had a vision, Santin West, aff?" a voice asked from beyond his field of vision. He knew it to be Biccon Winters, Oathmaster of the Nova Cats and warden of the Rite. Her voice gave away a touch of envy.

  "Aff," he said in a barely audible tone, his eyes still glassy and fixed on the flames in hopes the vision would return.

  "Excellent. This is your fourth attempt, Star Colonel. I congratulate you. Many who undertake the rite never fully meet their goal. We Nova Cats understand the value of such visions. Ever since our founder, Nicholas Kerensky, had the vision that led to our genesis as a people, only the Nova Cat warriors still undertake such quests. It is both a link to our past and a bridge to our future."

  Santin West felt lightheaded, his stomach aching and his muscles yearning to stretch. "My vision—it was . . ." His words trailed off as his mind sought to explain what he had seen.

  The hand of the Oathmaster came to rest on his shoulder. "I am the keeper of the rede for our people and the warden of this rite. A vision is sacred, and often will reveal its meaning only with the passage of time."

  Santin shifted and uncrossed his legs. For the first time the cool of the night air seemed to sting him as he moved. "You do not understand. I must comprehend what I have seen." His mind danced with the image that already seemed to be fading from his memory. The two cats entangled, that I understand. The Smoke Jaguars and Nova Cats have been at each other's throats for centuries. But
I saw another, one that became a death mask, the one that bowed to me. The two warring cats were crushed and all that was left was the death-grin of the third. I must understand what I saw. Is this my future, or that of my Clan?

  Oathmaster Winters shook her head. "Neg, Star Colonel. Nicholas Kerensky and the founder of our Clan, Khan Sandra Rosse, both taught us to wait with patience as the meaning of a vision gradually unfolds. Let your understanding ripen, and then we will talk more of this. If what you have seen is a portent of our future, I will make the Khans aware of it. Such is my duty and honor."

  Santin West rose to his feet slowly and wobbled. At that moment the days and nights of fasting and concentration caught up with him. He took one feeble step, then suddenly collapsed at the feet of Oathmaster Winters. West lay sprawled out over his prized vineers, passed out from exhaustion and exertion.

  2

  Hall of Warriors, The Fort

  Tara, Northwind

  The Chaos March

  2 May 3058

  The Assembly Hall of Clan Elders was the chief government building in Tara, and the heart and soul of Northwind's planetary government. Despite the fact that the Highlanders were only a fraction of the planet's population, they were the only real power and authority on the world. That was even more true now that the Highlanders had won this planet away from the Prince Victor Davion and the Federated Commonwealth.

  Set in the center of Tara, the Assembly Hall was part of a whole complex of buildings that had been known as The Fort ever since the Highlanders had come back to Northwind in 3028. The returning elders had declared that they would defend their beloved planet from the fortress of these walls against any and all who threatened.

  Once a year the elders of Tara and all the chiefs from the outlying provinces met in High Assembly to decide matters of planetary importance, but the day-to-day decisions were made by various sub-assemblies. The largest, and most prestigious, of these was the Assembly of Warriors, which was charged with governing the Highlanders' military. Composed of exactly one hundred proven Highlander soldiers, the Assembly of Warriors was the cornerstone of Northwind.