All the forces under his command that had been tagged for the second wave were assigned new targets. His own First Robinson Rangers were to lead the attack to recover Breed. The second wave was indefinitely postponed, with all assigned resources being diverted to meet the threat from the Kurita counterattack. Postponed? More likely canceled. The chance had slipped by.
Only six months ago, they had struck the Combine, catching the Snakes unaware. Initial progress had been good. The lack of BattleMech support and counterattacks had only confirmed his belief that the Kuritans had not had time to rebuild those very expensive forces. What they did have was tied up in Dieron resisting the combined attacks that threatened to cut the Combine off from Terra.
It had all looked so good.
Then the Combine's resistance had stiffened. Even though the Davion forces were facing armies light on 'Mechs, the Kuritans held. Planets didn't fall when they were supposed to. The timetable of the invasion had begun to slip. Even then, Sandoval had not been especially worried. The Snakes might have been unprepared, but no one in his right mind would expect them to give up as easily as the Capellans had in the last war.
Then had come the assassinations against the officers of the Steiner front. It had thrown the Lyran thrust into turmoil. The Steiner advances had stopped almost instantly. The no-guts cowards had even gotten themselves kicked off Vega. He had heard a rumor that Katrina Steiner had panicked when she found an origami cat in the Royal Throne Room on Tharkad. James shook his head. An army had to be bigger than its leadership, stronger than its machines. While the Steiner troops had lots of heavy equipment, they seemed lightly equipped with determination. James felt betrayed. He knew that his father would be feeling even more so after all he had done to foster the alliance with those faint-hearted Lyran fancy-dressers.
He had never expected the Davion High Command to crumble, too. Sortek must have overrated the opposition on An Ting. It was the only explanation for the abandonment of the Galedon thrust. James knew better. From all he had seen, the Snakes had to be on the ropes. They were certainly ready to collapse all along his own front. Another push, and they would have.
Then the word had come that the thrice-damned Theodore Kurita had engineered a massive counterattack. Combine units had thrust deep into Federated Suns space, endangering Robinson. James stared sullenly at the faxes littering the small desk of his cubicle. He knew them too well. Supply bases gone. Militia units crushed. Combine planets retaken by the Dragon. AFFS units in danger of being cut off. New Kurita BattleMech units identified. Unexpected forces assaulting Davion worlds.
Everything was coming apart.
The door buzzed, and he tapped the switch to open it. Sir Michael Hallbrock stepped through. He flashed James a brief, apologetic smile. "Time for the approach briefing, Jimmy boy."
"I'll be there in a minute."
Hallbrock started to leave, but stopped halfway through the doorway.
"You done good, Jimmy. The Old Duke will be proud."
James didn't bother to look at him. "We're turning our backs on our last chance to crush the Combine. They've got to be weak, too spread out. If we could just keep pushing."
"Ain't a war ever been fought without a soldier carrying a politician on his back, Jimmy."
James sighed. "Sir Michael, you and my father fed me history when I was growing up. You told me tales of how warriors saved the day, rescued the maiden .. . slew the dragon. The Mech Warrior always pulled it out when everybody else had lost hope."
"And you're wondering what's wrong with you that you're not the hero?"
James bit his lip. The old Colonel knew him too well.
"A good soldier follows orders," Hallbrock said softly.
"Even when he knows they're wrong?"
"Are you so sure that they are? Are you willing to bet the lives of millions that you are right about how weak the Kuritans are?"
After a moment of silence, James shook his head.
"I figure Hanse Davion feels the same way." Hallbrock straightened up. "Weak or not, them Snakes are holding Breed and we've got orders to take it back. The men are waiting, Marshal."
James forced a shallow smile. "Go on. I'll be along in a minute."
Hallbrock nodded. The door hissed softly as it cut off James's view of the lanky old Colonel. James sat, glumly staring at the clutter on his table. He felt the frustration building until it burst forth, and his arm swept out to knock all the fax sheets and data disks to the floor.
Drained of emotion, he stood slowly and walked through the mess to the door. He had an assault briefing to run.
67
Kirkwood Manor, Conqueror's Pride, Proserpina
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
12 December 3039
The night was scented with the heavy, sweet odor of yoruhanablossoms. Occasionally, insects blundered through the light pools thrown by the stone lanterns, whirring gems of iridescent chitin. The garden was an island of serenity.
Yasir Nezumi was at ease here, despite the kimono that clung to the sweat brought out by the warmth and humidity. The manor belonged to a yakuza leader, a minor official of the Boshi-gumiclan. It was a near-perfect replica of a Muromachi shoen complex and a sign of the progressive changes made under the enlightened rule of the Dragon. Each day, more of the war-ravaged world was returned to productivity. One day, the Amerigo continent would be reclaimed as well. When that day came, the Boshi-gumiclan would be strong; they owned much of its land. The future was bright for those of the clans.
A kagetaka called from the bushes.
Nezumi started, and a nervous anticipation filled him. The kagetaka was not native to Proserpina, and though common on worlds across the Inner Sphere, it was a species not yet reintroduced to this planet. He cleared his throat. He wished his voice to be heard clearly. It was important to make a good impression. He was not dealing with the ordinary here.
"The war against the Davion and Steiner tekiis going well. Our enemies retreat, cowed and chastened for their temerity. Lord Theodore is triumphant in arms.
"Now that the danger to the Combine is past, it is time to consider the proper ordering of things. The long years of waiting for an appropriate moment are over, and we must turn our eyes to the future. With the invader returned to his own space, we can now attend to internal matters.
"For years, Takashi Kurita has hindered our lord. Unjustly. Unwisely. The mantle of the Dragon has passed from Takashi -sama. Men of vision have seen this for some time, but they thought it prudent to refrain from action. Now the truth must be recognized. All loyal citizens must do what they can to see that an orderly transition proceeds, that the old and faltering give way to the strong and vital."
He paused, letting the garden's silence engulf him.
"It is Kanrei Theodore's desire," he added.
Having stated his case, he relaxed. A beetle buzzed by his ear and down past his shoulder to bump into a lantern at his side. Its gossamer wings folded under its carapace as it landed. Concerned with matters knowable only to an insect, it crawled off into the darkness. "Is there anything else to be said?" Nezumi asked the night. The silent serenity of the garden went undisturbed. He waited a minute, but there was no answer from the bushes or the trees. He repeated his question. Nezumi sat quietly for another two minutes.
Had he been wrong?
He would not know any time soon. Resigned, he stood up, groaning as he straightened. The price of advancing age, he lamented. His knees and back were painfully stiff as he walked the path of carefully chosen and placed stones. As he neared the bushes at the edge of the garden, his concern over his aches vanished. A speck of white arrested his passage, a folded rice-paper figure standing on one of the path's stones. It was an origami cat.