White fury flashed through Deirdre's eyes. "What makes her so hateful? She did everything to force me to say I considered you to be the worst officer imaginable."
"But you didn't."
"No mean feat. The worst officer ever to live was present in the room, and he's a Davion. Compared to him, you are a paragon of virtue." She searched Kai's face with what seemed a mixture of pity and wonderment. "As much as we have our differences, I am not blind to how much more caring you seem than most officers in this army. I've had enough of hatred in my life. I don't intend to give Romano any more fuel for her anger."
"My parents asked me to convey their gratitude, too. They wanted to meet you, but you headed off planet too quickly."
Kai noticed she stiffened slightly at the mention of his parents, then visibly fought down the reaction. If possible, her tone became even more formal and her manner more distant, but not so much as in the past. "I had to do some things before taking assignment aboard the Barbarossa,"she explained. "It was obvious how proud they are of you, and happy that someone else vindicated their belief. I require no thanks from them, however."
As Deirdre Lear turned back to her computer files, Kai understood that the interview was over. "Well, thank you again for the support," he said lamely.
As he turned to leave, her voice made him look back. "Kai ... Leftenant... thank you for offering to keep me informed on Alyina. And for organizing the evacuation of my field hospital on Twycross. We lost some men, but many more would have died if the Clans had broken through."
Kai gave her a nod, then slipped into the corridor. Out there, he leaned his head against a cold bulkhead and closed his eyes. The Clans came closer to a breakthrough on Twycross than I have come with you, Deirdre Lear.
Kai smiled and flexed his fingers. "Since sector 2750 is in my company's area of control," he said aloud, "I should familiarize myself with the background of all personnel being assigned to it. Let us see, Dr. Lear, what clues your files may offer in solving this little mystery. And I won't rest until I know why you hate my family, and what can I do about it."
29
JumpShip Dire Wolf, Assault Orbit
Memmingen, Free Rasalhague Republic
20 November 3051
Phelan Wolf watched Natasha Kerensky shake hands with Star Colonel Marcos within the confines of the bridge holotank. As she turned away, he saw the predatory grin on her face. Head held high and stride springy with pride, Natasha returned to her bidding station.
Phelan relinquished his place at the bid computer keyboard and moved over to a general access terminal. "How do you think the bidding will go?" he asked.
She threw him a wink, which prompted both Phelan and Ranna to smile. "You two pups watch this. Marcos won't know what hit him. Give me first bid because of my age, will he!"
Phelan shook his head. Having seen Cluster commanders bid away men and materials in preparation for a planetary assault a dozen times on at least a dozen previous occasions, he still could not get used to it. He knew the ground rules. A commander went in to attack with whatever he had bid, but could bring down reinforcements equal to his rival's last bid, without penalty. Ultimately, he could bring down as much as the opening bid in the contest for that planet, but his rival would have to allow him that option, which would mean concessions to the losing bidder. Though Phelan acknowledged that the bid process forced commanders to do the best they could with their troops, the idea of an artificial limit on forces used to take a planet still shocked him.
He looked across the bridge at the large wall display that would show the bids and counter-bids. If Natasha chose, she could open with a bid to include all her forces. The computer would paint an icon for the Dire Wolf,three for aerospace fighters, three for Elementals, and nine for Mech-Warriors. Phelan knew Natasha was too shrewd to make such an opening bid, but he couldn't guess how much she would give away initially.
"Phelan, what is your assessment of the Third Drak0ns?"
The young MechWarrior frowned. "They are a sharp unit, but the Precentor Martial's information places them on Skondia. All they have defending Memmingen are militia and a unit cobbled together from the Black Omen and the Outlaws mercenary units. They're tough, but there aren't many of them."
Natasha's eyes became like crescent moons. "But if they were there, they would tie up a Triple or two, Quiaff?"'
"Aff."
"Good." Tapping out a series of keys, Natasha put her bid up on the screen. Phelan was relieved to see no icon representing the Dire Wolfbecause that meant the ship's awesome firepower would not be used to raze the planet. Only one five-pointed blue star with white trim appeared to represent Natasha's aerospace element. Likewise, Natasha allowed herself only one four-pointed green daggerstar with silver trim to represent Elementals. She even sliced out three of her nine MechWarrior stars.
Phelan glanced down at the small box worn on his jumpsuit belt. Its little LED remained dark, as did the unit on Ranna's belt. He knew that meant Natasha had bid away the Stars of which they were members. Even if Natasha won the bidding, neither Phelan nor Ranna would see combat. He turned to complain to the Black Widow, but saw that the LED on her notification device was not lit.
He raised an eyebrow. Natasha doesn't intend to win this bidding. What does she know? Are the Third Drak0ns on the planet?
Star Colonel Marcos countered with a bid pulling two
MechWarrior stars from the display, but added back a Star's worth of Elementals and aerospace support. He smiled confidently across the holotank, where a vector-graphic hologram of the planet slowly rotated. Standing behind him, Conal Ward patted Vlad on the shoulder while Vlad busied himself at the bid computer.
Natasha closed her eyes briefly. 'Two Stars of aircraft give him twenty fighters. The two Stars of Elementals counter the militia, leaving him four Stars of 'Mechs to take the Black Outlaws." She glanced over at Phelan. "Sound right to you?"
Phelan held up his left hand for a second, then finished punching an information request into the computer. A file started to scroll up over the screen, and he froze it as the information he wanted appeared. "ComStar says the Black Outlaws have a combined air wing of fourteen aerospace fighters. The Third Drak0ns also have twenty aerospace fighters, a reinforced air company. Most important," he said with a grin, "Memmingen is the home of the Vandal Air Force. They're a bunch of old fliers who have a full six-plane wing of MechBuster fighters. Neither the planes nor the pilots have been in combat since 3030, but they could still be deadly." -
Natasha nodded appreciatively. "Good work, StarCom-mander Wolf. ComStar provided that information?"
"Nope. When the Hounds were trapped on Gunzburg, the Vandals came over and put on a demonstration, courtesy of Tor Miraborg." Rage almost made the man's name stick in Phelan's throat, but he swallowed past it. "I just kept it in mind and decided not to share it with Marcos. No reason we should make it easy for him."
"No, indeed. At this point, would you consider it an even fight?"
"What makes you think the Drak0ns are there?" Phelan's green eyes narrowed. "If the Drak0ns are on the planet, I give the edge to Free Rasalhague."
Natasha gave Phelan a hard, appraising glance before answering him. "I have word that the Kell Hounds and Wolf's Dragoons are heading into Rasalhague to shore up the defenses. That being true, it makes sense for the Drak0ns to be released to Miraborg's command. Miraborg will want to surprise us, so he'll slip half the regiment in covertly while phantom exercises make ComStar think they're still on Skondia. He'll include the full air wing because the survivors can escape and be withdrawn to Gunzburg."
Phelan looked over at the ilKhan and the Precentor Martial waiting for Natasha's next bid. "With a little less air power, Marcos will be badly hurt."
"My thoughts exactly." Natasha punched her next bid into the computer. The screen updated itself, pulling only one of the blue and white aerospace stars.
Marcos chuckled aloud, having anticipated her bid. His counter instantly flashed onto the screen. That bid deleted one of the Elemental Stars, leaving Marcos with four 'MechStars, one Star of fighters, and one Star of Elementals. When Natasha raised her hands in surrender, Marcos shot a triumphant fist into the air.
The wide smile on Vlad's face made Phelan's stomach turn sour, but he forced the feeling away. "Promise me one thing, Natasha."
"You have a request, StarCommander?"
He nodded solemnly. "Whatever happens, we have to be the ones to take Gunzburg. I have an old score to settle."
Natasha folded her arms across the breast of her black jumpsuit. "A vendetta can be nasty stuff, Phelan. Having lived through a number of them, I know. They make you blind."
Phelan shook his head. "No, Natasha, it is not like that. Tor Miraborg humiliated me during the time he held the Hounds captive on Gunzburg." He glanced back at Ranna, who had heard the story before, and she gave him a supportive smile. "I knew his daughter Tyra, and Tor had me beat up so I'd stop seeing her. In fact, he wanted to imprison me on Gunzburg, even after the Hounds headed out. That's why I want to be there when he gives his surrender. To give him back what he gave me."
"That we might be able to arrange." Natasha turned from Phelan to greet the two men approaching her. "Precentor Martial, ilKhan, I apologize for so poor a performance in the bidding."
"Bargained well, but lost. There is no shame, Natasha." The Precentor Martial nodded in concurrence with Ulric's assessment. "Marcos bid boldly, apparently ignoring the ten percent accuracy deviation I quoted him. You forced him to shave his force close to the line necessary for victory. As I understand your system, he will have to concede some things to you in order to win the world."
Natasha looked over at Marcos and flipped Conal Ward a little salute. "I hope you are correct, Precentor Martial. As it is, I want to take the time to prepare a bid for our next target." She gave Ulric an inquiring glance. "May I tell him?"
"By all means."
"We will hit Gunzburg next."
The Precentor Martial adjusted the black eye patch over his right eye. "Tor Miraborg will be commanding the Gunzburg Eagles. It will not be easy to take that world."
Ulric nodded slightly. "But then, no world should ever be easy to take, Quiaff?"'
"Well put, ilKhan." The Precentor Martial smiled knowingly. "The only worlds I have ever heard described as easy conquests were those that proved annoyingly difficult to take. I will relay the request for information on Gunzburg immediately."
Phelan touched the Precentor Martial's left arm. "If you could, please ask your sources to determine if Hanson Kuusik is still an aide of Tor Miraborg's, or find out to which unit he has been assigned."
Focht bowed his head. "I will include that request."
"Precentor Martial, perhaps you could request data on one more world in your transmission?" Ulric allowed himself the grim smile that Phelan recognized from previous times when Ulric had apparently been testing him. This time, to his relief, the look was directed at Focht.
"It would be my pleasure, ilKhan. Which world is it?"
"A target for the Smoke Jaguars and Nova Cats. It is in the Draconis Combine. According to what they say, it may be a world of some importance." Ulric frowned. "The name escapes me."
Focht's one good eye half-closed as he cycled through the names of the worlds in that theatre of operations. "Irece? Te-niente?" The ComStar warrior hesitated as another name came to him. "Pesht? Do they mean to take Pesht? Pesht is a Military District capital."
"No, no, none of those, Precentor, but thank you. Ah, yes," Ulric said, "now I remember." As his smile returned, Phelan felt a sudden horrible premonition. "The name is Luthien," the ilKhan said, pleased with himself at remembering quickly. "The world for which they want information is known as Luthien."