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  Taft National Forest, 145 kilometers northwest of Nasew

  North Nanturo continent, Vega

  1 December 3136

  Star Colonel Conner Hall's thoughts were dark as he strode his Karhu across the scrubby brown meadow at full throttle.

  Off to his left, MechWarrior Duncan Huntsig's Karhu guarded his flank. To his right and farther back, he could see two of the new FVR 'Mechs: one of the Spiders, graceful with its outstretched stabilizer wings, and the Rifleman, a brutal-looking 'Mech with large arm-mounted weapons. They looked factory-fresh in their tan camouflage and red-and-black FVR unit medallions, a condition that could change at any moment.

  The remaining FVR 'Mechs, the second Spider and a gangly but fast Uller, shared rear guard on the formation.

  "Star Colonel, this is Recon Three. We have fresh tracks. Looks like they turned and headed north at high speed. You should be able to intercept."

  "Roger, Recon Three. If they spot you, try to draw them back towards us, or at least delay them a little. Do not engage."

  "Not a chance, sir."

  Recon Three was a Fox armored car, certainly not helpless, but no match for a 'Mech.

  Conner caught another glimpse of Huntsig, and thumbed up a private channel. "Huntsig, I really did not expect you to stay with us after all that happened this morning."

  "To be honest. Star Colonel, I did consider my options. If it had just been a matter of you, I might not be here. But my honor is bound to the FVR. I am here for them."

  "Understood. But for what it is worth, I am glad you are here."

  "For what it is worth," he chuckled, "you should be."

  Conner turned.

  Something moved behind a small cluster of brown trees to their left. He recognized the boxy missile canisters of a Catapult, many open spaces showing in the racks. He is short on ammo. "Target at ten o'clock, range one-point-one klicks! It is the Catapult. Watch for escorts."

  "I have an Anubis one klick north," announced Recon Three. "Taking fire. He is jumping above me. I am—" There was a crackle, and the circuit went dead.

  "Kortlever and Felix," ordered Huntsig, "Get over there and draw off that Anubis. You have got the speed and firepower now, use it. Do not forget those jump jets in the Spider, Kortlever. Use them if you need them."

  The two rear 'Mechs veered off the formation, as the rest of them focused on the much more dangerous Catapult.

  "He has not seen us yet," said Huntsig, "or we would be eating missiles by now."

  Suddenly the Catapult sprinted and dodged.

  "Now he has seen us," said Conner. "Keep close to cover. Make him work for those missile hits."

  The Catapult turned, backpedaled.

  Conner caught a glimpse of the laser scar he had put across the upper hull and confirmed what he had suspected. This was one of the 'Mechs that took down Karen.

  The Catapult launched a missile salvo, turned and ran.

  Conner dashed into a stand of trees, drought-weakened trunks snapping easily before his 'Mech. He saw a missile arcing toward him, but lost sight of it until it exploded against a tree five meters to his left.

  His 'Mech bucked at the blast, but there was no damage.

  He burst out of the trees, targeted and fired his lasers.

  An explosion ripped open one of the missile canisters. The Catapult turned as if to fire more missiles, but nothing happened.

  Conner shoved his throttle forward. "We have his missiles! Keep him on the run!"

  The Catapult ran, but Conner found he could easily keep up with the damaged 'Mech. He loitered just far enough back to make himself a less-than-ideal laser target, but the Catapult was more interested in escape than combat.

  In the background he could hear the chatter between Kortlever and Felix.

  "There's what's left of Recon Three. No sign of survivors."

  "There he is! Missile incoming!"

  "I'm hit. Slowing me down."

  "Hang back! Let me draw his fire!"

  "No! Almost got him in my gun sights—There!"

  He heard autocannon chatter.

  "He's burning! He's burning!"

  "Whoa! Good shot! He's falling! He's falling!"

  "Target is down! Target is down!"

  "Good hunting," called Huntsig. "Felix, fall in behind and watch our backs. Kortlever, use those jump jets to get a fix, then flank in to the west. Chow, take the east flank. Let us box him in. Do not close until I give the okay."

  "Roger that. Mother Hen."

  Conner laughed. "Mother Hen?"

  "On my honor," said Huntsig glumly, "it was not my choice."

  Huntsig was giving most of the orders, but Conner understood that his own command position was shaky, and did not object. In any case, Huntsig seemed to have taken his "Mother Hen" role genuinely to heart.

  It pleased Conner, but he was careful not to say so. He knew Huntsig would take it the wrong way.

  Ahead, the Catapult turned past an outcrop and found itself on the receiving end of missiles coming from the north. It had finally strayed within range of the Ursus units that had been maneuvering into its path.

  "We have him." It was Star Captain Stuka, one of the recent recalls.

  The Catapult stepped back just in time for a missile to narrowly miss the cockpit and explode right under the nose. The big 'Mech staggered back, nose high, lasers aimed ineffectively at the clouds, then staggered forward, nose tilting far down.

  "Now!" It was Huntsig. "Jump on him now!"

  The Spiders descended from either side, landing next to the bigger Catapult like two wasps descending on a grasshopper. Inside its weapon range, the Catapult showed its one weakness against the Spiders' strengths. It had no arms, and was virtually helpless against their melee attacks.

  Conner desperately wanted to make this kill, but there was no way he could use his weapons without endangering Kortlever and Chow.

  Huntsig seemed to read his mind. "Let them have the kill, Star Colonel. She was their commander."

  She was more to me.

  But Huntsig was right, of course. Conner throttled back, and they watched as the Spiders took the big 'Mech apart piece by piece.

  * * *

  Galaxy Commander Isis Bekker looked sadly at the tri-vid screen. The media were reporting live from where their warriors had taken over the passenger terminal at the spaceport as a makeshift camp.

  A Point of Elementals in armor bounced through the foreground on jump jets, patrolling the perimeter.

  Star Captain Vong clearly had been torn as he told her personally that his elementals could not join them in the defense of Vega. He had promised they would continue to protect the base and capital, which they still considered Ghost Bear holdings, until they could be extracted.

  She had expected it. The elementals were the most traditional of their warriors. They could not even look in a mirror without being reminded of what they had been born and bred for. The idea of deviating from their genetic destiny was repugnant to them.

  In truth. Vong and his warriors would be at it for some time. She did not know when DropShips might be available to take them back to the Dominion. Almost certainly not before the serious fighting began.

  "You knew many of them would go?”

  She turned to see Vince standing behind her. "I knew. But to see it, it is as if I have lost my—children."

  "I'm surprised as many stayed as did."

  "I also. I fear many of them fall into two camps. They either feel their codex is so dishonored by service with the Omega Galaxy that they can never return to the Dominion, or they simply hunger for the battle that is soon to come. Even if we win, I do not know how I will hold them together."

  "You'll think of a way."

  "What about the Vegans? What do your people tell you? Will they fight with us?"

  His eyes told the story. "Some. Many of the young people are outraged at the sabotage of Lee Roche. We're arming them as fast as we can, but as infantry they aren't good for much more t
han cannon fodder. There's a general swell of patriotism, that's for sure, but that could work for you as well as against. There is still a lot of hidden war salvage out there, not all of it in the hands of insurgents. The few people with the skills and resources are mostly hanging back, waiting to dive in on the winning side in hopes of currying some favor."

  "Galaxy Commander!" It was Star Captain Durant in the command center.

  She touched her earpiece. "Go, Star Captain."

  "We have units massing in the mountains south-southwest of Northgate."

  "Patch in the Star Colonel."

  "Aye," said Durant.

  In a moment. Hall's voice crackled in her ear. "Galaxy Commander, they are in the wrong position for a direct attack on Northgate, and way too far north for an attack on the capital. In my opinion, they're going to try to cut the Lincoln Pass. If they do, they can effectively stop myomer and industrial 'Mech production but avoid damaging the plant, keeping it for their own future use."

  Durant cut in. "We have fusion flares! Incoming DropShips! Four—no, five! Entering Vega orbit."

  Bekker looked up an alarm. "Where did they come from? Why didn't our radar pick them up?"

  Trevor appeared at the top of the stairs to the intelligence gallery, a look of concern on his face. "I'm sorry. Galaxy Commander. Evidently they were hiding behind a crossing asteroid that dropped them off practically at our doorstep. The asteroid had been tracked closely by astronomers in New Egypt, but apparently nobody told them to be watching for enemy DropShips, so they didn't report it."

  "Blast! Star Colonel, you may have lots of company there real quick. I am guessing that the Draconis Combine is about to make an appearance in a big way."

  "Roger that. We are headed for the pass at best speed."

  "Our satellites have detected unexpected arrivals at the north jump point," said Durant, the tension clear in his voice. "The nearest satellite went dead, but not before we identified four JumpShips, reading Draconis Combine registry."

  She frowned. The jump points in this system were way out, so they were not an immediate threat. A lot could happen in fifty-two days, and it was possible that the recalled forces from Cebalrai could come in right behind them, assuming they did not balk at fighting under the new terms she had created.

  "Do we know if they are launching DropShips?"

  "Not that we can detect. Galaxy Commander. They are just—" Something else drew his attention. He switched channels and talked to someone else for a moment. Even from this distance, through the glass front of the command center, she could see his face pale. "We have ships jumping in at a pirate point, almost on top of us."

  It was risky, but it was possible for a skilled and knowledgeable captain to pilot a JumpShip to a nonstandard jump point closer to the planet. "How may days out?"

  He shook his head. "Hours, sir. I think they actually used the gravity of that asteroid to balance their entry into normal space."

  How would they know to do that? They would have to know this system like the back of their hand.

  "We show six DropShips away, unknown type."

  "Great Father. They do not need the ships at the jump point. They are going to overwhelm us!"

  A tone chirped in her ear: a call from the paramilitary police. "What now?" She tapped her headset. "This is Bekker."

  "This is Ricco, Galaxy Commander. We have heard about the situation up on the pass. My people—Sir, they want a piece of this!"

  "What? How do you mean?"

  "Galaxy Commander, we have APCs, RiotMechs, 'Constable' exoskeletons—"

  "Chief, that is riot gear, not combat gear."

  "Galaxy Commander, we can look out our front door and see Vega kids marching north armed with little more than a rifle and pot on their head. We want a piece of this!"

  Still she hesitated.

  "We are still warriors! Let us fight!"

  She bit her lip, then nodded. "Go. May the Founder watch over you. Good hunting!"

  Her fists clenched.

  Vince looked at her. "You wish you could be with them, don't you?"

  She nodded. "I wanted my 'Mech left here on standby. But Hall could not spare it. Everything that can walk, crawl or fly has somebody shoved in the cockpit and is out there." She looked at the many moving icons on her map. "This is no way for an old warrior to go out. I do not see how this can end well. I want to be with my warriors."

  He walked over and put his arm around her shoulders. "Sometimes, the hardest thing is to stand back and let others fight. Your place is here. You can best help them here."

  She lowered her voice, almost to a whisper, so that only he could hear. "I do not know what can help them now."

  She saw sudden excitement in the intelligence gallery. Trenton looked up and waved frantically. He pointed at the tri-vid screens, which had just gone live with a media report.

  The sound cut on. "—on the satellite downlink frequencies used by broadcast networks here. The file contains a variety of facsimile documents and video footage. We are still analyzing the contents. However, this video, apparently taken clandestinely at a planning session, seems to speak for itself. We present it for you now."

  Bekker stared at the screen, transfixed.

  She was suddenly aware that Trenton had rushed down and was standing next to her, a big smile on his face.

  "Are the Vegans seeing this?"

  "It's on every network."

  She shook her head in wonder, and glanced at Trenton. "Do you know where this came from? Why are we seeing it now?"

  Trenton tilted his head strangely. "You yourself quoted the old saying that the enemy of your enemy is your friend. I think this has very little to do with us. Somebody is settling a score."

  17

  From the Great Work of Galaxy Commander Isis Bekker

  It is a little-known footnote to Ghost Bear history that there was more to our founders' family than Jorgensson and Tseng themselves. They also had a son. His name and appearance are lost to us. It is known only that he was killed by a stray bullet in the rioting that took place early in the Exodus Civil War.

  Some say that it was the grief and anger over this event that drove our founders back into the military, where they would come under the command of Nicholas Kerensky. Some say that it is this one tragic event that led to the birth of our Clan, and that without it we could not exist.

  As for me, I have my doubts. There might have been other paths for them to reach the same destiny. Seeing their way of life crumbling around them, might one or both have returned to the military anyway? Perhaps there was someone else, another family member, who could have cared for the child.

  And how different, then, might things have been if the child had lived to accompany them to Strana Mechty? We are uncertain how old their son was when he died. He might have been approaching manhood when Nicholas Kerensky tried to divide the family of Jorgensson and Tseng. What would have happened then? Would three, instead of two, have marched into the frozen wilderness, ready to die rather than be separated? Would a third name have been celebrated along with that of the parents? Would our Clan have been founded not merely on some vague principle of family, but on the specific bond of parent and child?

  History is often a collision of accidents and conflicting designs and desires. Only after it is past can we try to make sense of it all. But in the moment, it is only chaos. Did the man who fired the shot that killed their son know he was changing history?

  Of course not.

  Likely he was not aiming for the child at all. Was he motivated by politics, anger or bloodlust? Was he simply trying to protect his own family? We will never know, any more than we know his name.

  Sometimes the bullet not aimed for history's heart, finds it anyway.

  Lincoln Pass Summit

  North Nanturo continent, Vega 1

  December 3136

  Conner's forces closed on the summit from three directions now: his 'Mechs following the insurgent forces through the mountains
from the west, the small Northgate defense garrison of armor and two medium 'Mechs following the roadway from the north and everything else they could scramble from Nasew coming from the south.

  It was not enough.

  They had watched the spherical DropShips descend out of the sky like a curtain of fire, dropping many of their 'Mechs into the pass as they descended, then landing on the peaks overlooking the summit.

  The DropShips quickly deployed additional 'Mechs, VTOLs, and hover-armor units. The grounded Drop-Ships formed stockades along the walls of a natural fortress, their turrets delivering death to any enemy unit that dared show itself below them.

  They had lost Chow early on to a missile barrage from a Longbow, which now prowled the saddles above, appearing occasionally to rain down death on them. Felix died later, finding himself toe-to-toe with an Anubis just when his autocannons jammed.

  Conner and Huntsig had caught a damaged Black Hawk in their crossfire and chewed the 'Mech's cockpit into rubble when the Longbow appeared far above them and fired off a volley.

  Conner saw it coming and dived his 'Mech in close to the slowly falling Black Hawk, whose armor took the brunt of the attack. Still, his armor rang like a temple bell, and more red lights appeared in his status displays.

  He glanced up for a better look at his attacker, and saw that the Longbow stood close to the top of a wide apron of slide material. The heavily armored unit would chew them to pieces before they could wear it down with conventional attacks. The roadway was just behind them. The land sloped away in that direction, and the road was built on a raised earthwork along the slope, providing a natural fortification. "Stuka use the roadway and head south. There's a bridge at about two hundred meters. Use it to pass under the road, then target your missiles just downslope from the Longbow. Do not try to hit him. Aim for the slide!"

  Stuka's Ursus was upslope behind them, where it could more effectively use its ranged weapons, but fire from above had mostly kept his head down. Conner checked his rear scanner and saw the Ursus pop up over a rise, then sprint for the cover of the roadway. Lasers from the DropShips melted rock all around it.