Le5224 wolf pack, p.7
LE5224 - Wolf Pack, page 7
I spent a lot of time at the Hall.
As the months wore on I became accustomed to my place at the Wolf's side. He must also have become more accustomed to me for he called me William less and less frequently. I was pleased, feeling that I was carving out my own place. But I knew I had yet to face the real test. Combat is only the briefest part of a soldier's life, but it was where I would truly prove my worth.
The Command Lance was busy even though we were not in action, which, I suppose, made the Wolf's suspension from combat less of a trial than it might have been. It was harder for Hans Vordel and his Bodyguard
Lance. In the old Dragoons, Hans had been the Wolf's bodyguard, a member of the Command Lance. Though an excellent warrior, he showed little aptitude for anything beyond BattleMech combat.
When the Dragoons first came to Outreach in 3030, we were in bad shape after the Fourth Succession War. Many feared that Takashi Kurita would take advantage of our weakened condition to mount a strike that would destroy the Dragoons completely. Meeting in council, the Dragoon colonels had demanded that Jaime Wolf form a Bodyguard Lance. The Wolf had insisted that such a move was unnecessary, but the colonels had overridden him in the vote. Hans had been detailed to select the best warriors, and he selected them from among several ageframes, on advice from Stanford Blake. I suppose the idea was to create a continuity of experience, balancing the faster reflexes of the younger generations with the battle experience of the older. Whatever the reasoning, the team consistently garnered superlative scores in testing. Hans worked hard to maintain his lance's edge.
I believed that the combination of different age-frames had an additional benefit, but I'm afraid it was a personal rather than a professional one. For the newest member was of my ageframe and, like me, the product of a sibko.
Her name was Maeve.
If I tell you of her alluring beauty, her midnight hair, her slender, feline grace, you will think me besotted, thrall to a young man's hormones. No one, you will say, could be so fair. Perhaps you would come to distrust anything I tell you. So instead, I will speak only of her prowess as a MechWarrior. That can be verified by the records; though her selection for the Bodyguard Lance should be proof enough of her skill. There is also documentation of her accomplishments as a commander later in life. Additionally, I can also attest to her sharp tongue and quick wit, and also be found honest. There are recordings. Any one of those areas would make her stand out, so accept my evaluation that she was exceptional. She was my first love.
To her, however, I was simply the comm officer, a mere fixture in her military life, only taking on importance when messages were to be given or received. My tongue betrayed all my efforts at casual conversation, so our exchanges were strictly business. Somehow, I was able to speak to her when she was just another Dragoon, but beyond that I was hopeless. I hadn't been so backward with my sibs. That was how I knew I was in love.
I remember clearly her first day on duty. She had drawn late shift along with Sergeant Anton Benjamin and so had joined the Command Lance near the end of our standard duty rounds. The Wolf was completing some business at the Hiring Hall, a subcontract for the Black Brigade. When he was finished, we met our new lancemate outside the conference room, where Maeve and Anton waited to relieve Hans and Shelly Gordon. I know I heard Maeve's name, but after that not another word of the introduction registered in my brain.
I was too busy trying to think of some way to talk to her as soon as I went off duty, but my thoughts didn't want to work. We all left the building together, Stan placing himself between her and me. I thought about how near the command lounge was to the Wolf's office. The bodyguards often relaxed there when Jaime Wolf was busy in residence. This slowly forming plan suddenly slipped from my grasp at a shouted call.
"Colonel Wolf!"
Much to my annoyance, the Wolf stopped and turned at the sound of his name.
The man approaching us was short, but not so short as the Wolf, or even Maeve, for that matter. Despite the coolness of the weather, he wore only a Mech-Warrior's cooling vest and shorts. Perhaps he wished to show off his muscular build. I wondered what Maeve thought of him. Spheroids were often impressed by such macho posturing, but I hoped that a Dragoon would have higher standards. The Mech Warrior thrust out his hand as he stepped up to Jaime Wolf.
"Colonel, I wanted to say thanks. I just found out that it was your word that cinched it with the St. Ives contractor."
"Captain Miller, isn't it?" Wolf said as he shook the man's hand.
"That's right. Call me Jason."
"Glad we could help. I always like to see a reliable unit get a contract. Too many defaults give all mercenaries a bad name."
"Don't they just." Miller grinned. "We all have to stick together or the Houses will eat us alive."
Grinning back, the Wolf said, "I'll count on you the next time Takashi's on my tail."
Miller looked startled for a moment. Apparently deciding the Wolf was joking, he laughed and said, "You got it! The Twelve Pack and the Dragoons against the Snakes. Done deal!" There was an awkward moment while everyone stood looking at one another. "Well, I just wanted to say thanks."
"You have, Captain. I wish you success on your contract."
They shook hands again and we proceeded on, leaving Miller on the steps of the Hall. The Wolf dropped his jovial manner as soon as Miller turned his back. I watched Maeve's brow furrow. When we were far enough away that her voice wouldn't carry, she said, "I don't see why you do it, Colonel Wolf. I mean; helping other mercs get contracts. These other guys cut into our business." She tossed her head back, sweeping an errant lock out of her eyes. "They'll never be Dragoons."
"Some might," Jaime Wolf smiled indulgently. "Some have. There was a time when we needed warriors and we took in Inner Sphere mercs. We couldn't get soldiers fast enough any other way."
"But we took only the best," she said defensively.
"We tried."
She was clearly still unsatisfied. "But this business with the Hiring Hall and all these other mercs. The Dragoons are at full operational strength." The Wolf's eyes narrowed slightly at that comment and I knew he didn't agree. I had thought we were up to strength as well. Maeve didn't notice. "We don't need anybody to take up the slack."
"Not every contract is a Dragoon's contract."
"Agreed. But I checked the board today. There were at least three suitable openings and we weren't bidding on any of them."
The Wolf looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, then said, "There were other outfits that needed the work more."
"Are we a charity?"
Stan answered for the Wolf. "Don't forget, we get a cut of any contract made through the Hall."
"We're not merchants!" Maeve shouted, real passion in her voice. She must have come from one of the more protected sibkos.
Yelling at Stan was as bad as yelling at the Wolf. It was no way to start a tour of duty. I didn't want to see her transferred out just when I'd met her, so I was relieved to see that the Wolf was feeling indulgent.
"Aren't we?" he asked. "We sell our services, and fighting isn't the only thing we do. We'll take our money where we can find it."
Maeve screwed up her face and looked away.
"Listen, Maeve. You're too young to have been there and the teachers don't always give the sibkos the hard facts. So listen up; I don't want this kind of display in front of the customers."
Her voice was small. "I understand, Colonel."
"No you don't. But I want you to." He waited until she looked at him again. "The Dragoons started helping other mercs find contracts just after the Fourth Succession War, when we were in too bad a shape to accept any contracts of our own. Besides, the Dragoons had always done some subcontracting, hiring other mercs when we didn't have available forces. I don't think there was anyone in the Inner Sphere who didn't know that we had been mauled in the fighting. We didn't have the military resources to guarantee anything. All we had was our rep for knowing who was good. The Dragoons needed to rebuild, and rebuilding costs money. We had Davion's promises to make good our losses while under contract to him, but that wouldn't have brought us up to strength, even if he had come through with all the money he promised."
"The text says we lost over fifty percent effectiveness on Misery."
The Wolf nodded somberly. "A cold evaluation, but true. Money could replace the machines, but the warriors were gone forever."
"We were hard up," Stan added. "We played on what rep we had. By brokering good contracts, we made a lot of friends among the Inner Sphere mercs."
"Why not just take in the best mercs we could find and patch together a provisional regiment to be hired out?" Maeve asked.
"A patchwork regiment wouldn't have been able to keep up the rep," Wolf said, shaking his head. "And we didn't have the strength to put together a pure Dragoon regiment. We were all too tired. Even if we had gone out selling our services, who would have protected Outreach and the families?"
"But we had Davion to protect Outreach," Maeve protested.
"The political situation was still in turmoil. We couldn't rely on Davion, only ourselves. As soon as things settled down a bit and we had a chance to catch our metaphorical breaths, Natasha Kerensky took the Black Widow Battalion into the field."
Benjamin spat. "Bloodnamed bitch!"
"I will have none of that kind of talk, Mister," the Wolf snapped. Benjamin mumbled an apology, which the Wolf ignored. "Natasha followed her conscience when she left us to return to Clan Wolf. We had chosen our own way long before. We're on our own."
"Is it true that they put Natasha on trial and found the Dragoons innocent of treason to the Clans?" Maeve asked. "If they did, we could go back."
Stan snorted. "There's more to life in the Clans than legal verdicts. We made our choice when we ignored the ilKhan's last summons."
The Wolf nodded agreement. "We've seen other ways besides Clan ways now. We can't go back. It just wouldn't work. At best, we'd all end up dead in trials or be declared bandits. We're better than that."
Maeve wouldn't let it go. "What's to keep us from ending up as somebody's lap dogs like the Horsemen?"
"Only ourselves. As long as I have any say in it, the Dragoons will never be anyone's bought dogs," the Wolf said with steady conviction. "We will make our own way here in the Inner Sphere. Even if it means submitting to questioning from junior officers."
Maeve had the good grace—and the good sense—to keep her mouth shut after that. We proceeded to Wolf Hall and, unfortunately, the Wolf had a full night's work for me. Hans and Shelly were back on duty by the time I stumbled bleary-eyed from Jaime Wolf's office. I went to my bed and dreamed of Maeve.
9
Near the horizon we could see the BattleMechs of the Spider's Web Battalion racing over the ridges. MacKenzie Wolf, Jaime Wolf's blood son, was leading his unit against the flank of the Jade Falcon position. From our over-watch position on the slopes of Ziggilies Mountain, we listened to the soft thunder of explosions and watched the distant flashes of manmade lightning.
This was Jaime Wolf's first day out from under his year of suspension. The Command Lance had landed on Morges, on the border of Clan Jade Falcon's occupation zone, coming in at dawn over the top of Ziggilies Mountain. Beta Regiment and Spider's Web Battalion were already onplanet, having been hired by the Federated Commonwealth for a counterstrike against the Jade Falcon occupying force. The Falcons were looking to expand their occupied territory and the Dragoons were to help stop them. FedCom units were engaging the Falcons on their own, but the Dragoons would provide added punch to make sure the Falcons went home, and went home bloodied. It was the hottest contract the Dragoons had underway. Naturally, the Wolf wanted to be in for the kill.
I had no doubt that Jaime Wolf was happy to be here.
"That got their attention," he said. Reconnaissance had reported that the Falcons were engaging the Spider's Web with significant forces. The Jade Falcon commander would soon see that the ante had been upped. "Brian, give aerospace the go. The Falcons will start dropping reinforcements soon. Let's give them a warm welcome."
"Aerospace on the way," I responded as I received acknowledgement from the command ship in orbit. "Major Baracini is promising them a bumpy ride down."
"That's a promise he'll keep." Maeve cut in. "Brian, tell them to let some through. We don't want those aerojocks hogging all the fun."
She laughed lightly, clearly relishing the coming combat. Though I was eager, too, to be honest, I must also admit to feeling some trepidation. Should the Jade Falcon reinforcements arrive in significant numbers, the fighting would be deadly. The Dragoons would not get off easily.
The Wolf gave the order to move out of our positions. Taking care on the treacherous slopes, the BattleMechs of the Command and Bodyguard Lances picked their way down toward the plain. The vector we followed would take us to a new position about four kilometers behind the lines, and from there we would be able to see the battle progressing. We had covered only half the distance when Alicia Fancher, the Beta commander, put in a priority call.
"Delta call, Colonel," I relayed. "Beta reports a Jade Falcon breakthrough twenty klicks north of Josselles."
"Map feed," he ordered.
"In process."
I reviewed the feed on my monitor, trying to guess the Wolf's response. The Falcon attack had pierced Beta's right-flank defenses and threatened to drive a wedge between the Dragoons and the FedCom forces. Worse, the command center coordinating the operation was in Josselles. If the Falcons succeeded in reaching it, they would disrupt our attack. With our coordination shattered, they could turn on the FedCom troops and waste them while holding us off. The map plainly showed that Beta's 'Mech forces could not intercept the Falcons in time to prevent them from reaching the command center. No one had expected the Clan force to mount a counterthrust so swiftly.
"Vector on me." The Wolf turned his Archer in the direction of Josselles. "Brian, sound Code White."
There were other orders as well, but I was soon too busy to contemplate their importance. Handling the volume of comm traffic inherent in a multiregiment battle is a full-time job. Try adding to that the task of piloting a BattleMech traveling at fifty kilometers per hour over rough terrain and see how much time you have to consider tactical subtleties. I was shocked back to the immediate field when Vordel's Victor took the first round of fire.
The Victor rocked under the impact of a volley of long-range missiles, but kept moving, twisting right, then left, to throw off the enemy gunner's aim. Raising its right arm, the Victor fired its Gauss rifle with a crack that ripped the air. Then the rest of the Bodyguard Lance joined in. Missiles screamed downfield, the smoky billows of their exhaust trails lit with bright blue flashes of particle projector bolts.
Then I saw Maeve's Thunderbolt take a brace of heavy laser hits. Missiles struck all around her, raising dust and hiding her from view. My heart stopped as chunks of fused armor blasted free of the obscuring cloud in a rain of shrapnel. The pulsing of her 'Mech's arm-mounted Blackwell 20 laser told me she had survived the attack, even before her T-bolt cleared the cloud of steam and smoke. The armor of the 'Mech's right arm was shredded and I could see the gleam of its internal structure. Craters from missile hits pocked the sloping chest, but the T-bolt moved with undiminished speed. I began to breathe again.
A Star of five enemy BattleMechs, three Thors and two Mad Cats, emerged from the treeline, racing for the cover offered by a razed town. Not Josselles; we were still several klicks north. The Falcon 'Mechs fired as they moved, no doubt hoping to slow us and gain the protection of the rubble and burned-out buildings, while simultaneously denying it to us. Once behind the buildings, they could fire on us as we moved through open fields to close with them. And we would have to close, for their weapons generally out-ranged ours. If we attempted a long-range duel, I knew that the other 'Mechs of their detachment would already be moving through the trees, racing past toward Josselles.
The Falcons must have been confident, and who could blame them? Intel had reported that most of the Jade Falcon BattleMechs onworld were second-line models, 'Mechs similar to Inner Sphere designs but equipped with Clan weapons, engines, and electronics. Such machines were dangerous enough, but this Star consisted of OmniMechs, battle machines as superior to Clan second-line models as those models were to most Inner Sphere 'Mechs.
Omnis were one of the Clans' great advantages, and the Falcons knew how to use them. In our two lances, we had only three Omnis.
The radio waves crackled with challenges from the Clan warriors. They were calling for single combat, 'Mech against 'Mech. Clan honor, Inner Sphere suicide.
"Ignore the challenges," the Wolf ordered. "Bodyguard Lance concentrate on the lead 'Mech. Command Lance to direct all fire at the trailer."
Maeve protested, wanting to duel her opponent. Hating the necessity, I overrode her circuit. The Wolf had given his orders and she was out of line. Concentrated fire might let us bring down one or both of the target Omnis and thus even the odds.
Despite her protest, she followed the Wolf's orders.
The T-bolfs laser sent iridescent gouts of energy into the leg of the lead Falcon 'Mech, a Thor. Her shots placed right on target, a hole punched through by her lancemates. The Thor stumbled, then righted itself, but only for a moment. As the seventy-ton machine's weight came down on the the injured leg, the foamed titanium bones gave way. The Thor toppled. A second Thor leaped past as it fell, continuing the Falcons' charge for the ruined town.
The Command Lance wounded its target, a Mad Cat, but the Omni kept moving. Our attack hadn't slowed the Star and we didn't have time for a second round before the leading Falcons reached cover. It seemed obvious that we were going to have to go in after them and that we'd take damage doing so, possibly even lose some of our 'Mechs. I hoped Maeve's wouldn't be one of them.
The situation suddenly worsened as Hans announced, "Star at four o'clock."
