I knew my own training and experience, and I wasn't happy about those odds. A few of the other jocks had seen combat before, but this was going to be the first time for most of the MechWarriors in this battlegroup. Those we were heading to meet were almost certainly veterans; greenies are rarely assigned to orbital drops. As far as equipment and skill went, we were on the downside of the equation, but I couldn't fault the courage of our old warriors, sibkids, and trainees. They knew the score, and they never hesitated.

  Hans and Franchette took command of two lances and moved wide on the left flank. Grant and I were in the forefront of the rest. Two of our machines were piloted by veterans, but they were jockeying Chameleons. The Chameleon is a training 'Mech, intended to simulate a variety of opponents by mounting a wide variety of weapon systems. A Chameleon is a medium 'Mech, but it doesn't always look like one. It can be fitted out with extra plates to modify its appearance, and carries special electronics to falsify its signature; these special abilities let it look and scan as something other than what it is, hence the machine's name. Ours were configured to appear as heavies; we wanted to be as threatening as possible. I only hoped the machines would make it into combat; Chameleons aren't really designed for long-distance travel.

  Because I outranked Grant, I was in command of our contingent. When our channel to ops suddenly started to break up, my invisible copilot grabbed me by the balls. It's bad enough when you only have to worry about yourself.

  Our 'Mechs ate up the kilometers. Because of the superior terrain-handling capability of the BattleMechs, we outdistanced the Home Guard armor units in short order. I didn't worry too much. We were expecting the opposition to be spread out, so we wouldn't have to face their whole force at once. They'd also be suffering from the same lack of intelligence as we were and would need to do recon, further splitting their forces. If we ran into trouble, Hans would sweep in from the flank. If it was too much trouble, the whole force would fall back on the armor.

  We had intercepted no transmissions from the incoming 'Mechs during or after their drop. I hoped that meant they were a recon force and would be mostly, if not all, light 'Mechs. If the tonnage of the two forces were equal, their greater numbers would be less of an advantage. The lack of transmissions suggested something else as well: that the 'Mech force out there was hostile; friendlies would have called in.

  We'd been moving through the Hannovassian Highlands for a quarter of an hour when Jeremy in the Griffin reported a contact on his scope.

  "Bogey, boss. A klick off left flank. He's lying low. There may be a couple more, but I'm not sure. Too much iron in the rocks."

  "Anyone confirm?" There were no affirmative responses. "You got any motion on that bogey, Jeremy?"

  "Neg."

  "We'll keep on then."

  There was a lot of scrap metal in the Highlands. I didn't think it was an enemy unit; we were still a good way from their drop zone. Besides, an enemy would have reacted to our presence. I hoped I was right and that Jeremy was just being jittery.

  Twenty minutes later, Jeremy reported another bogey, but this time he had plenty of confirmation. We had five BattleMechs moving on an intercept course. As they cleared a bluff, I punched up my magnification to get a visual ID and felt my stomach roll.

  The approaching 'Mechs were all black with red trim, each one painted with the emblem of a black widow spider on a white web. The Spider's Web Battalion. And they hadn't called in their arrival.

  I wasn't queasy just because this unit—which had been MacKenzie Wolf's—was apparently hostile, or because two of the machines were OmniMechs, though either was more than enough to get my copilot in an uproar. My concern was more personal: Maeve had been a part of the battalion. I wondered if she was still with them, a member of the lance approaching us now.

  I entered them into my battle computer, tagging each with a target code. My Loki beeped at me when the first one entered the outer effective zone of my long-range missiles. On our side only Grant's Archer and Jeremy's Griffin had LRMs, but I was sure the Omnis on the other side could match us. I expected them to open fire, but they didn't. Instead they halted.

  "Open up the formation," I ordered as I throttled down. As soon as I had dropped behind the line of our advance, I ordered the lance to slow down too. Grant had followed my lead, throttling back even before I gave the order to slow. That put two of our long-range platforms into support position. Whether the Spider's Web warriors were spooked by our response, or just didn't like the odds, I didn't know. But they started to move again, pulling back.

  Did they know about Hans and the rest of the company moving out of sight on the flank?

  "Follow up," I ordered. Withdrawing without even an attempt at an engagement was curious—too curious not to investigate.

  We followed them deeper into the canyon lands, their vector bringing them closer to Hans and his lances. My fears about a trap subsided a bit, but didn't go away. How could they? The tall mesas and narrow valleys between the eroded mountains offered too many places of concealment, too many blind alleys where we might be trapped. I watched my maps and monitored the progress of the rest of the company. Soon Hans would be in position to cut across the path of the retreating black 'Mechs. Once we'd cornered them, we would get some answers out of these warriors.

  That was when they turned the tables.

  A rumble like distant thunder echoed through the badlands. As if on cue, the black 'Mechs we were chasing closed up their extended formation, gathering in the shade of a tall bluff, where they turned and faced us. More black 'Mechs appeared from canyons to either side of our position. I was ordering a reverse and Jeremy was screaming on the same channel that we had bogies behind us. At least twenty 'Mechs were surrounding us. All the 'Mechs from the drop might have been there, but I couldn't be sure. The black 'Mechs held their fire, though a single combined volley from them would have devastated our ranks. A voice cut into our commo channel.

  "Welcome to the web, jocks. Hans won't be here for a while. The canyon he entered used to have an opening in our rear, but not anymore. It's just you and us, and it's time for a talk. If we don't like what we hear, you won't be seeing your friends again."

  I recognized the voice at once although I hadn't heard it in months—at least not outside my dreams.

  "Maeve."

  "Hello, Brian." She didn't sound surprised, nor particularly pleased. "Where's the Wolf?"

  I wasn't sure I was pleased either. "That's his Archer beside me."

  "I can see that, but he's not in it."

  "What makes you think that?"

  There was a pause, as if she were considering what to say. Maybe she was just annoyed. I almost expected to see the protective covers on her 'Mech's weapons begin to open. When she finally responded, her voice was cool, almost conciliatory. "The machine's not moving like the Wolf's. So where is he?"

  I wanted to tell her. I wanted her to be on our side, but I had a responsibility not to let my personal feelings endanger Colonel Wolf. Until I knew where she and her comrades stood, I couldn't trust the Colonel's location to her. Our position was too precarious. My throat was dry as I said, "Somewhere else."

  She laughed. "Very cautious, Brian. Would you be so cautious if I said we were here to fight for him?"

  "Are you?"

  "Answering a question with a question. You've been hanging around with Stan Blake too long. By the way, is he with the Wolf?"

  "Colonel Blake stayed in the World."

  "Spy stuff?"

  Her tone was conversational, and the restraint shown by the warriors in the black 'Mechs was in itself a statement. I decided to take a chance. "We don't know what happened to him."

  "Sounds like things are pretty grim."

  I didn't need to be told that. "Have you come to fight for the Colonel?"

  "Could be."

  "Now you're being cautious."

  "With good reason. We got the notice of Mac's death over the net, but there was nothing from the Wolf. That's not his style. Then we got the word that Alpin was the new boss of the Dragoons and styling himself Khan. That got a few people suspicious, but we got no good answers to our queries, nothing quite clear enough to tell us there really was a problem. When we heard Elson and Fancher were running a lot of the show and that Kelly Yukinov wasn't even on Outreach, a few people got excited. We had a ... a false start, but we got that straightened out and headed in. We hadn't been insystem for thirty seconds before we had Fleet Captain Chandra on the horn, telling us that we'd better stay clear of the planet. She tried to talk us into linking with her ships in orbit, waiting till matters were settled, but that's not the way we do things in this battalion. We made our drop out here because I knew this is where the Wolf would go if he made it out of Harlech."

  "But you dropped in like you were coming to battle."

  "I didn't know that we weren't."

  "You could have transmitted your intentions. Or at least your questions. We could have told you what was going on and had you land at the ops center."

  "Sure we could have," she said sarcastically. "In case you hadn't noticed, not everybody involved in this thing has been telling the truth. If we came in broadcasting who we favored, and the Wolf hadn't made it here, we wouldn't have been real popular with the people in charge. Dropping in like this, we could always claim caution and not reveal favoritism for any side."

  I wanted to hear her say it. "Then you are here to fight for him."

  "You're fighting for him, aren't you?"

  I could imagine the smile that went with that question. I was grinning myself when I answered, "We are."

  "Hah! I knew he'd make a challenge to the Trial." There was exultation in her voice. Faintly, I heard other voices, leakage coming through her microphone from the channels to the other black 'Mechs. "I guess we are, too."

  I can't tell you how relieved I was. There are no words to express it. It was all for the Colonel's sake, though. The Spider's Web Battalion was a significant addition to our fighting capabilities. Personally, I was a bit befuddled. Maeve was back in my life and I wasn't quite sure how I felt about it.

  "Hadn't you better give Hans the word, before he comes charging in here, guns blazing?" she suggested.

  I did. Within the hour we had linked up and were heading back toward the ops center. As soon as we got within line-of-sight of one of our relay stations, I beamed the good news in.

  43

  Elson stalked into the command center, already angry. He had not cared for the peremptory tone of the summons from Alpin. He cared even less for the fact that the boy seemed to think he was really in command.

  All of the command council loyal to the Dragoon organization was there. Neil Parella and Alicia Fancher were sitting on opposite sides of the table, eyeing each other with ill-concealed hostility. Their rivalry made it easy to play them off against each other. Elizabeth Nichole, the other combat regiment commander, was working at a console near the door to one of the offices lining the ops center. For all his initial fears about her, Nichole had turned out to be a supporter of the new regime. Sean Kevin of Seventh Kommando sat in one corner. He was a quiet and competent officer who had no interest in the strategic positioning of the Dragoons; he only wanted someone to point him in the right direction so that he could use his skills. Elson found him very valuable. Rebecca Ardevauer of the Fire Support Group was less tractable, but she was valuable, too. She was well-liked and vocal about the necessity of avoiding conflict and holding with the outcome of the Trial of Position. Douglas Piper of the Support Battalion was more of an enigma. He said little except to voice his votes, and those had always been what Elson wanted.

  Though not of the council, Noketsuna was there, too, talking quietly with Svados. The Kuritan was proving valuable for his insights concerning the reaction of the local populace, gleaned through the exercise of his somewhat dubious investigative skills. He was working well with Svados, recently promoted to head Wolfnet in the absence of Stanford Blake.

  Of course, Alpin Wolf was also present. He stood leaning against the main table, intent on the images flickering through the holotank. His Mech Warrior's jacket, with its motley collection of unit-recognition patches, was tossed over a chair.

  Elson ignored him and stepped up to Nichole. "Things quiet enough at Epsilon, Nichole?"

  Alpin looked up when he heard Elson's voice. His face was pinched into a frown that deepened when he saw who Elson addressed. He slapped his hand on the table.

  "My grandfather is gathering troops in the Outback. I am convinced that he means to make a strike against the capital. He will assume that he can unseat me and retake command."

  Parella snorted. "He can't best three regiments of BattleMechs with full support, when the best he can field is a bunch of old men and kids."

  "There's no proof he's actually doing anything," Nichole pointed out.

  Alpin stabbed a finger at the holotank. "Then explain the drop by the Spider's Web Battalion. There was no fighting when they landed.".

  "That's the report, but we don't have positive confirmation," Svados said.

  "There doesn't have to be," Alpin snapped. "The Spider's Web flushed out anyone who supported the legitimate succession before they left Wing. Of course they came to support my grandfather's rebellion."

  "Chandra says Captain Maeve is in command of the battalion," Svados said.

  "Maeve? She's a good jock, but she's just a pup."

  Fancher chuckled. "She's not ready for command. If that's the best Wolf can rally, we've nothing to worry about."

  "She is in my ageframe," Alpin said. He tried to make his tone a warning, but it came off as more of a whine.

  Fancher looked disgusted and about to say something, so Elson spoke up. "There are many battalion commanders of her age among the Clans. In the current circumstances, her age is not the issue, but her politics are. The lack of fighting between Wolf's loyalists and the battalion is a strong sign that the Spider's Web will side with Jaime Wolf."

  "If he has a side," Nichole said. She might have accepted Alpin as leader of the Dragoons, but she was still struggling with the concept of having to send troops against Jaime Wolf.

  Parella shook his head. "Liz, if Wolf were simply going to give it up, he would have left the system."

  Folding her arms across her chest, Elizabeth Nichole chewed her lip. "Maybe. Maybe not."

  "Jaime Wolf has demonstrated his rebellion by running," Alpin said loudly. "I propose a first strike, before we lose any more sympathizers."

  Surprised, Elson turned to him. "What do you mean any more?"

  Alpin smiled, apparently pleased that he was ahead of Elson on something. "Graham took the Special Recon Group out last night. They left Camp Dorrety just after midnight."

  Elson turned to Svados. "Is that true?"

  She nodded and Noketsuna reported. "All contact with them has been lost. Some vehicles were noted moving toward the strait at Jormenai, suggesting they're headed for the other side of the mountain. However, that could be a feint. Some or all of the group might remain on this continent to form a harassing force. In either case, I think it is clear that their sympathies lie with Jaime Wolf."

  "Like your damned Kurita friends," Alpin snapped.

  "Then they've gone over, too?" Nichole looked unhappy.

  Shoving her chair back so that it screeched across the floor, Fancher stood. "Once Elson called off the attack, they loaded their people onto the DropShips and lifted. They never even made a pretense of going anywhere else. They lifted and made straight for the Outback. They only touched down long enough to unload their 'Mechs, then their DropShips lifted again and took up a geosynchronous orbit over Green Sector, becoming high cover for the training ops complex."

  Elson ignored Fancher's venomous stare. "It is a negligible shift in the dynamic."

  "And we can make it less," Alpin said, tapping on the holotank's control board. The imaged globe shrank and orbital paths burned into neon existence around it. A formation of four DropShips over the Outback blinked on and off. Vector arrows leapt out from various orbital assets, showing how the position could be approached. "Only the 'Mechs got off, which means that the families of the MechWarriors stayed on the DropShips. There are no port facilities to worry about in orbit. If we blast the ships out of the sky, we will teach those Snakes a lesson they well deserve. We can make their families pay for the MechWarriors' foolishness."

  Elson walked around the table and backhanded Alpin without a word. The boy flew across the room to land sprawling over a desk. Alpin stared up at Elson with sheer hatred. All Elson felt was his own contempt.

  "I gave you position, I can take it away!" Alpin snarled.

  Icily calm, Elson responded, "Not by the laws of the Khanship."

  "I can make the council do it!"

  "Go ahead."

  Alpin stood, smearing blood from his cut lip across his cheek as he rubbed the jaw that was already angrily red. He looked around the assembled group. The only unreadable face was that of Noketsuna. The Dragoons looked stern, offering no sympathy. That was as Elson had expected. The families, blood or sibkin, were sacred; they were not objects of war. Only the debased warriors of the Inner Sphere made war on civilians.

  Alpin screamed, "You are all dismissed!"

  When no one moved, he stared at them a moment longer, then stalked into his office. The door slammed.

  Elson turned at once to the holotank's console, returning the image to a depiction of the Outback. "Do we have any information about where the Kuritans will be deployed?"

  "None, sir," Svados said.

  "They are not a coherent unit," Noketsuna said. "They have no specialties or organization."

  "Are you saying that they will not fight well?"

  "They will fight. They have given their loyalty and will die for Wolf. Do not discount them, but do not expect to divine how they will be used either."

  "Sounds like they're about as stable as Little Al," Parella put in.

 

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