“Y-you’ve got mine, Envoy,” Marta stammered, assuming he had a directional mic aimed toward her. She took a deep breath and checked that her comm-link was still transmitting, not that anyone could do anything if this Behemoth took a few more strides forward and squashed her.
“This is an Atlas BattleMech, equipped with a Gauss rifle, two Extended Range Large Lasers, one in each arm, and two torso-mounted SRM launchers.”
“Impressive, Envoy.” Marta knew Parsons would have a battle-trained MechWarrior in the cockpit, unlike the men and women who struggled to pilot the MBA’s modified ’Mechs.
The BattleMech stirred slightly, as if impatient to begin destruction. Ozone from electrical discharges in its ECM Suite made her nose wrinkle and eyes water, but nothing detracted from the overwhelming impression made by the mountain of stark power that was the BattleMech.
“Why do you bring this here?” she asked.
“For demonstration purposes, Ms. Kinsolving. Lord Governor Sandoval wishes everyone on this planet to know of the devotion to The Republic shown by the Mirach Business Association and your personal commitment to both Mirach and the rule of law.”
“Demonstration?”
“The ’Mech is yours to command, Ms. Kinsolving. For a while.”
Marta stood stock-still for a moment, then thumbed her phone to reconnect with Sergio Ortega. He still used his secure Span-net phone to monitor every instant of Parsons’ arrival.
“Baron,” she said softly into her phone, “what do you think?”
“You know what I’d do with the BattleMech,” came the Governor’s answer.
Marta cleared her throat and addressed Parsons in a clear voice. “I’d like the Atlas to restore civil order in Cingulum. No more rioting. No more looting. Keep violence to a minimum.”
“As you command.”
The BattleMech turned slowly, took inertial guidance bearings on the distant city, and then gathered speed until it was rushing along at its full sixty-five kilometers per hour. As the BattleMech vanished from sight, Marta checked her phone. Static. Lady Elora had finally jammed the signals from both the AWC DropShip launch pad and the Governor.
Marta shuddered when she realized this was the opening shot. Sergio Ortega would never condone the use of the BattleMech against Tortorelli’s troops due to his philosophical leanings, but nothing prevented Elora and Tortorelli from pitting the Legate’s entire military might against the BattleMech. It didn’t matter to them if Cingulum was laid entirely to waste, if they came out the victors. Parsons and Lord Governor Sandoval had chosen sides, and the Legate and Minister were obviously in the wrong faction. The showdown had come sooner than anyone had thought.
In that, Marta knew, might lie the salvation of Mirach—or its destruction.
32
Palace of Facets, Cingulum
Mirach
9 May 3133
“We’ve got an important mission ahead of us, Master Sergeant,” Sergio said grimly to Dmitri Borodin. “How many of the old FCL are in the Palace?”
Borodin grinned from ear to ear.
“More’n you might think, Baron. Don’t know how it happened,” Borodin said with a wide grin, “but I just happened to be writing up the duty roster, and more than half of the best of the best are here instead of somewhere else.” Borodin laughed self-deprecatingly. “Then there’s me.”
“You’ve done so much already, Master Sergeant. Alerting me last week to the missing explosives helped more than you could imagine.” Sergio touched his Span-net phone but did not pick it up. “Have you found where Austin went?”
“He lit out and just vanished, Baron, after you told him the Envoy was coming back. Can’t blame him. Tortorelli’s guards were out for blood because he made them look so bad. I been huntin’ and askin’ around for the last couple days.” Borodin shook his head. “It’s like the ground opened up and swallowed him.”
“But there hasn’t been even a rumor that Tortorelli’s troops have caught him?”
“Not a whisper. If anything, just the reverse. Quakes been comin’ down from on high because of everyone’s failure to find the lieutenant. The Baronet, I mean, Governor.”
“That’s all right,” Sergio said, knowing the master sergeant thought of Austin first as an officer. He knew his son could take care of himself, but wished he were here now, just as he wanted Manfred Leclerc at his side. Sergio had long since learned, though, that he could not always get what he wanted.
“Remove any of Tortorelli’s guards who won’t help defend the Palace,” Sergio said. “Don’t kill them. Lock them up in the east-wing cellar. The wine cellar doors are thick and impossible to open without explosives if you lock them.”
“What? Let them have your good wine, Governor?”
“It’ll keep them quiet,” Sergio said, liking the way the sergeant thought. “Seize control of the heavy machine guns Tortorelli placed at the doors. If you don’t have enough FCL soldiers to man them all, fall back into the Palace corridors until you can defend junctures in the halls with the troops you do have. I can give you a map, if you need it.”
“Governor, I been guardin’ you for goin’ on three years. There’s not much of the Palace of Facets me and the rest haven’t explored, just to know where danger might be, mind you.”
“Don’t worry about destroying the Palace. Keep yourselves safe.”
“Governor, we’ll keep ourselves safe, you and the Palace, too.” Borodin snapped a salute and hurried off, bellowing orders as he went. Like a Pied Piper, he drew soldiers dressed in the drab green of Tortorelli’s infantry from odd corners along the Great Hall. Sergio recognized them all as having been in the First Cossack Lancers. This part of his plan had worked well.
Tortorelli had got careless assigning troopers because he thought all those at the Palace were loyal to him. Sergio intended to have made significant progress toward neutralizing him and Lady Elora Rimonova before the Legate realized anything was wrong with his pet prisoner.
Sergio closed his eyes for a moment and then pushed regrets away. He had ignored Elora and her ambitions and it had almost cost him his world. By the time he realized she intended to wrest Mirach from The Republic, she had grown far too powerful to simply remove. Worse, Sergio had never confirmed whether or not she had forged an alliance with Kal Radick.
If these so-called Steel Wolves descended on Mirach because of her, Sergio feared nothing would be left but Elora’s ambition. As matters now stood, Lord Governor Sandoval had declared against Tortorelli and Elora, sending his Envoy with a BattleMech to restore order. And Kal Radick had not been heard from at all.
Sergio knew a show of force by Sandoval’s BattleMech would never succeed, not in and of itself. More had to be done, and he needed to be free of his gilded palace/prison guards now to do it. He had allowed the First Cossack Lancers to be transferred away to free Manfred Leclerc to work with the MBA and watch their ’Mech program closely. The transfer had the added advantage of lulling Elora into a false sense of complacency, thinking he was unprotected and vulnerable.
But he had lost so much. His older son. Hanna Leong. He had never believed Elora would go to such lengths. Everyone had a blind spot. Misjudging her repeatedly was far too easy a trap for him.
Sergio dropped into his chair and picked up the Span-net phone Marta Kinsolving had given him, using the most sophisticated encryption equipment AWC had, intending to place the call he had started earlier. He put down the phone when Master Sergeant Borodin rushed back to report.