Trial by Chaos Read online

  "Pilot," Conner said, "you have that vector for us?"

  "Turn course two-eight-zero. We estimate the target is six to eight kilometers on that vector, apparently with good ECM. I am sorry we are not closer, but terrain limited our choice of landing sites. We will stay here unless the site becomes too hot, and that seems unlikely. Remember that recall code is November Surprise."

  Conner grinned. "Very good. Thank you, Vancouver."

  They turned to the suggested compass heading and moved out of the valley along a narrower gorge. There were scattered trees at the bottom; tall, narrow hardwoods growing thicker as they ascended the walls on either side.

  It was an easy path to follow, but it was also ideal for an ambush.

  The topographical maps the Clans had obtained of the planet often had proven to be inaccurate, so he did not fully trust his map display. "Pilot, what did you see coming in? What are we headed into?"

  "The cut you are in should take you close to the target. At about kilometer four, things flatten out a bit. At kilometer five, there is a small lake with forest that extends to the north along the shore. And at kilometer six there is the beginning of a burn, possibly a recent forest fire."

  Conner throttled up his Karhu as much as he dared without losing Lieutenant Kortlever's slower AgroMech MOD. He had a momentary second thought about deploying the FVR units. They would be at a huge disadvantage against a fast 'Mech like an Anubis.

  Of course, if the enemy 'Mech decided to run, the Karhu wouldn't be able to keep up either. If the Anubis stood and engaged them, the terrain might minimize the advantage of the target's speed and maneuverability.

  As promised, the hilts separated ahead of them, forming a shallow bowl with a quiet lake at the center. Beyond that, a saddle between two hills was marked by the blackened and defoliated trunks of trees.

  Conner throttled back, continuing to move but scanning the surroundings and his sensor displays for their target. "Look sharp," he said. "It should be just around here."

  "There!" It was Karen's voice. "Running along the ridge just to the left of the burn."

  "I see it," agreed Kortlever. "It's an Anubis all right."

  Conner brought the stick over and turned upslope, hoping the target was not yet aware of them—possibly the pilot would be a poorly trained insurgent and less than proficient with the use of his 'Mech's radar and other detection gear. "Let us go. Lieutenant. Keep me between you and the target until I give you the order to break."

  "Roger that." Conner wanted to use his jump jets, but that would leave Kortlever exposed and might spook the Anubis into running. Instead, he tried to keep his 'Mech out of sight behind the trees as much as possible.

  Suddenly a warning tone screeched; a flight of missiles streaked toward him. There was no time for evasive action, but the screen of trees in front of him caused the warheads to detonate prematurely.

  The flash stung his eyes and chunks of wood bounced off his cockpit, but his systems indicated minimal damage. "The target has seen us!"

  "He's running across the burn," called Karen. "We could move along the west shore of the lake and catch him if he doubles back."

  "Go that plan," said Conner.

  "Second 'Mech!" It was Huntsig. "We have a second Anubis coming out of the lake, southeast shore. It is making a run for it. I am heading to intercept."

  Conner's brow furrowed as he struggled to get a weapons lock on the first Anubis, which was running and bobbing in his laser crosshairs. "Stay with your formation, Huntsig."

  "The AgroMechs are too slow. If I wait for them, he will escape."

  Conner's 360 screen showed Huntsig's Karhu making maximum speed along the lake, rapidly putting distance between himself and the AgroMechs. "Tupolov, Chow, turn back and try to keep visual on my position." He finally managed to get a targeting lock as his crosshairs centered on the fleeing Anubis, and he squeezed off a laser volley.

  Metal along the 'Mech's upper right leg flared into incandescence and rivulets of melted armor ran down, and the 'Mech stumbled and slowed slightly.

  Yes!

  Suddenly, the enemy 'Mech's greatest advantage had been minimized. His superior speed was gone.

  "We have another 'Mech!" It was Chow, sounding alarmed. "In the lake! It's big! It's big!"

  "It's a Catapult," reported Karen, her voice tense but controlled. "We're taking fire."

  Conner immediately turned away from his target. The Anubis was a minor danger compared to the Catapult, which was as big as his Karhu and an excellent distance fighter. "Karen, Chow, get out of there. You are no match for a Catapult. Huntsig, get back here!"

  "On my way," said Huntsig, obviously upset that he had gone after the less formidable target.

  The cockpit lurched violently as he ran down the uneven slope. He caught sight of Karen backing away from the shore, laying down covering fire with her autocannon that mostly fountained up water as the much bigger Catapult reared out of the far side of the lake. Conner knew her intent was to momentarily blind the Catapult pilot and delay his return fire.

  "Star Colonel," Kortlever said. "You're losing me."

  Conner swore. Kortlever might be in no immediate danger, but if the first Anubis doubled back— "I am throttling back, Lieutenant, but give it all the speed you have. You may fall back, but I will not leave you behind."

  He saw returning autocannon fire from the Catapult as Chow slipped his AgroMech over a forested rise and gained some cover.

  Karen's 'Mech reeled as armor-piercing slugs chewed into its thin armor.

  Conner let loose with an on-target laser shot to the Catapult's upper hull, and a wild burst of autocannon fire that missed its target, trying to draw fire away from Karen.

  A burst of missiles fired from the big launchers on the Catapult's back. Conner instantly recognized an entirely new danger; the way they moved marked these as streaks, homing missiles based on Clan tech. They arced through the sky and, despite his quick evasive action, several smashed into Conner's 'Mech. His ears rang from the explosions, and damage indicators appeared all over his status displays. He heard an unpleasant grinding sound and his entire 'Mech seemed to lean slightly before something popped, and then he was back up to speed.

  A second volley of streaks vanished into the trees and exploded near Chow's last position.

  A Catapult was bad enough, but this one had obviously been upgraded. Conner hoped the missiles were the only surprises it was packing.

  Conner watched as more red lights appeared on his status screen, and there was a chunk as his right autocannon jammed. He flipped a switch on the panel to his left to run a clear-cycle, hoping to break loose the jam, and fired again with his lasers.

  Karen's 'Mech was damaged, one leg dragging slightly in the sand as it slowly backed away from the Catapult. She was still firing her autocannon.

  "Huntsig," Conner demanded, "where are you?"

  "On my way. Taking fire from the second Anubis."

  A flash of motion drew Conner's eye to his rear-view camera display just in time to see another missile slam into his 'Mech from behind and several others landing just short of him, probably from the first Anubis. Despite the noise-canceling feature of his neurohelmet, his ears rang from the detonation.

  Then the clattering of the autocannon clear-cycle stopped and the gun froze completely.

  The situation was so obvious to Conner. The two Anubis were simply escorts for the Catapult. Fortune had allowed them to detect the enemy as they were relocating the big 'Mech from one hiding place to another.

  Suddenly Chow's AgroMech appeared, running past a break in the trees. The earlier attack had missed him. He nailed the Catapult with autocannon fire, then vanished into cover again.

  Conner also locked his remaining autocannon on the Catapult, determined to do some damage to those deadly missile racks. His slugs flashed against the armor just below the missile ports, but he could not tell if he had damaged the launchers or not.

  Huntsig appeared off to Con
ner's left at a full run. flames from a successful missile hit still dancing around his upper torso.

  Conner maneuvered down to the lakeshore, trying to draw fire away from Karen. "We have to regroup and retreat. We do not have the distance weapons to take these 'Mechs!"

  "I'm taking laser fire from the first Anubis," announced Kortlever. "I've lost my autocannon!"

  "Get to cover," Conner ordered. "Chow, cover him and stay close."

  "Yes, sir."

  Conner saw that Karen's 'Mech was almost over the same rise that had earlier sheltered Chow.

  The Catapult was now backing up the far lakeshore, and the second Anubis was angling over to meet it.

  The first Anubis was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps it had lobbed its last flight of missiles at Conner and then made a run for it.

  Conner kept moving, juggling stick, pedals and targeting controls, firing his remaining weapons at the Catapult. Huntsig did the same. Chow and Karen took targets of opportunity as they presented themselves, occasionally getting in a shot against the big 'Mech.

  The Catapult was now completely out of the lake. It lobbed off one last missile at Huntsig, then turned and bolted north, the second Anubis keeping pace. Though he ached to set off in pursuit, Conner knew it was the wrong course of action.

  "At least," said Karen, "we put them on the run. If only—"

  Her voice was drowned out by the sound of autocannon fire chewing into her 'Mech.

  "Anubis," yelled Chow. "The first one doubled back!"

  Conner saw it briefly between the trees and led it with a burst of laser, but it disappeared.

  Karen's 'Mech was out of sight behind the rise to Conner's left. He headed towards her at top speed. "Karen, are you okay?"

  "I—" The transmission dissolved into static.

  Her antennas might have been damaged.

  "I have it in my sights!" said Huntsig. He began to fire at the Anubis that Conner still could not see.

  Conner topped the rise and followed the ridgeline, constantly scrutinizing his HUD for enemy attack. He spotted Karen's 'Mech.

  The AgroMech teetered, its gun arm blown completely off and lying on the ground a dozen meters away. "Tupolov is hit bad! Where is that Anubis?"

  The Anubis appeared on the ridge above the AgroMech.

  Huntsig's Karhu appeared in the sky, riding on the flames of his jump jets, and dropped onto the slope just below it.

  Conner watched as a flight of missiles arced away from the Anubis. Most went wide, exploding all around, but one homed in.

  It plowed into Karen's 'Mech, swallowing it in flame. The 'Mech lurched forward, threatening to fall.

  He shoved his throttle to the stop, trying to put himself between her and the enemy fire.

  Too late.

  A streak missile, a parting gift from the Catapult, bored into her from the other side.

  Bits of her armor clattered harmlessly off his 'Mech.

  Somewhere above them, Conner was dimly aware of Huntsig's lasers blazing and his chattering autocannon chewing into the Anubis, sending melted and shredded armor flying into the air. Dimly aware as the Anubis' reactor blew, immolating the enemy 'Mech in its own plasma.

  But only dimly. He marched his Karhu up to Karen's fallen 'Mech, then throttled back, torso hard over, moving in a slow circle, searching for some sign of life. He looked down into the cockpit, but through the cracked and blackened ferroglass he could see nothing.

  12

  From the Great Work of Galaxy Commander Isis Bekker

  During the Ghost Bear's time in the Inner Sphere, there has been a growing concern among the highest ranks of our Clan, a debate among the Khans and the loremasters, that we have somehow lost our way.

  To an outside observer, nothing could be further from the truth. Our greatest differences with the native free-borns of the Rasalhague Dominion had long been settled. Under our benign protection, their people and ours enjoyed an unprecedented period of peace, health and economic prosperity. Despite dire predictions that our Clan would enforce a military dictatorship, the Ghost Bears had nurtured a civilian government (though there are those who would argue that it was only a kind of limited return to Clan isolationism). The Dominion's quiet strength and subtle guidance helped Devlin Stone form and solidify his new Republic of the Sphere, allowing us, for a time anyway, to share our gifts with countless worlds not under our direct influence.

  Though the Dominion's holdings did not include Terra, a few among our Clan even dared suggest that by acting as its ready guardian, we might be on the verge of somehow fulfilling the destiny of the Hidden Hope Doctrine.

  In truth, our success gnawed at us. We had fulfilled so much of our destiny, yet there was no obvious path upon which we might continue. The Rasalhague Dominion was an economic and political power, but the greater purpose of the Clans was not to create a commercial empire.

  Though we had been instrumental in forming The Republic of the Sphere, it constrained us. We could not readily expand our holdings, and the organization of The Republic helped to level the political playing field. As Vincent Florala has often pointed out to me, the way of the Clans rarely works to our advantage in our execution of Inner Sphere politics, or even in understanding them.

  It was apparent, even before my birth, that the Ghost Bears needed to find new ways to act, new ways to advance our cause. Many secret councils were called. Cadres of scientists and technicians were assigned to this task, under the personal direction of the Khans.

  Countless scenarios—military, political, technical and economic—were suggested, run as simulations and war games, evaluated and either discarded or filed for possible future application.

  Our occupation of Vega and the other strategic worlds of Prefecture I: that was a plan first proposed in rough form at least fifty years before its execution. Though it must have seemed we acted quickly, it was truly only a matter of logistics and adjusting the existing plan to fit current circumstances.

  Ghost Bears never act hastily if it can be avoided.

  But while these great plans were formed, other experiments also took place. Some on a very large scale, such as the formation of my own Omega Galaxy with its goal to adapt Inner Sphere tactics and methods.

  And some on a very small scale, such as Boerderijschool, the creche of my sibko. Located in the mountains north of Reykjavik on Rasalhague, Boerderijschool took the form of a self-supporting agricultural complex, mostly a ranch and farm. Most of the day-to-day work providing for our sufficiency was performed by lower-caste workers and by freeborn children, who formed a second, independent creche. But all the members of our sibko were expected to learn the ways of the farm as well as the way of the warrior.

  This may seem strange, even contradictory to the Clan way. In fact, many of us came to resent this indignity as we approached adulthood, and a repeated period of rebellion in this creche probably contributed to the end of the experiment shortly after I graduated.

  At the time, I felt very little about the end of that training style.

  Now, I think it a shame that the Ghost Bears abandoned it.

  What can a warrior learn on a farm? Many things, I believe.

  For example, to ride a horse is to understand a 'Mech. Even a small child can learn to understand how a mount enhances its rider's speed, power and abilities. But the rider also learns that with these enhancements come dangers, responsibilities and limitations. A rider learns to respect his or her mount, to care for it, and to know what it can and cannot do. A rider knows that a good rider on a poor mount is better than a poor rider on a good mount.

  These are lessons a MechWarrior can take to heart.

  As in any sibko, we were educated. We honed our bodies, not just through combat drills and gym exercise, but also through hard, humble labor in barns and pastures. From the moment we could walk we trained to fight in all the standard Clan ways. But our emphasis was on unaugmented combat, simple and close to the earth. We learned to fight each other, but we also wrestled
steers and rode bulls. We fought hand-to-hand, and with blunt and edged weapons. We learned to fight with farm tools. That may surprise you.

  We learned to take the implements around us and turn them into effective and deadly weapons; not merely the obvious choices like the ax, the scythe and the whip, but also the rake, the hoe and the shovel.

  Even a humble garden stake can be a very effective weapon for one who wields it with speed, power and surprise. I still have the scar on my left shoulder as a reminder of that lesson.

  From this we learned that a warrior's most deadly weapon is his or her brain, and that no object, no matter how benign it seems, should be ignored by one seeking victory. Not all weapons have sights, or triggers, or blades or cockpits. Some are not even material objects.

  This lesson serves me to this day.

  But in my tenth year of life, we spent a season tending plants, and even I, normally the most willing of students, was driven to complain. At the time I could see no purpose to it, no lesson that would serve me on the battlefield. I was always bitter about that summer spent watering tomatoes and weeding carrots. Any lessons it carried seemed lost to me.

  Only now, in the twilight of my life as a warrior and facing my greatest trial, do those lessons become apparent. Only now do I see the value in them.

  I know now that a great army cannot be built, it must be cultivated. I know that the crop we reap may not always be the crop we sowed, and yet, there still must be food on the table. And there is more—

  The great riddle of the Clans is that we have not been more successful in our goals. We have been trained and bred for three centuries to be the greatest warriors humanly possible, yet we have known defeat at the hands of our supposed inferiors many times. The Crusaders were turned back from Terra in the Great Refusal.

  Some may say this last is only an example of how dishonorable outsiders turned our own honor and traditions against us. But I will write here that which cannot be spoken: our Honor Road is also our weakness.

  There.

  The deed is done, and I will gladly stand and be judged by any who read it. Draw sword against me if you will. This is my opinion.