“Good day to you, my son,” the ComStar Adept said. “A very good day, Adept Sharilar,” the Kuritan replied. “I was told you would have something for me.”
“I do, indeed.”
He handed her a cartridge of holofilm. On its side was the logo of the Lyran Commonwealth's Donegal Broadcasting Company. Taped to the cartridge was a thick envelope. The Adept held the package briefly as if weighing it, then made it disappear into her robes.
“This will be held in trust until needed,” the Adept said. “As agreed.”
The Kuritan started to turn away, but seemed to remember something else he wanted to say. “The gentlemen I brought to your facility had a message for their network.”
“They did, and it was recorded in complete fidelity. Alas,” Sharilar said with mock seriousness, “an improper ritual was performed and some data transmissions were lost to the void. I fear that their story was among that lost data. Perhaps, at some future date, it may be recovered through the diligent prayers and hard work of my brothers and sisters.”
The man in the Chu-i'suniform nodded his understanding. The “recovery” would come when it was politically expedient. As he remounted his tank, he smiled in satisfaction.
From across the street, unseen in an alley, feral eyes watched the exchange.
When the Kuritans had gone and the Adept had vanished once more into the building, the unkempt man stumbled to his feet and sauntered to the public entrance of the ComStar compound. As he walked, he mumbled to himself.
“Widows! Heh, heh. Billy boy, you knows a way to make this 'un pay. The Hunter'll pay C-bills for a lead on the Widow.”
When he reached the window, he told the Duty Acolyte, “Wanna sends a message to mah friend on Solaris.”
The Kurita bills he produced to pay for the message's transmission were clean, a sharp contrast to everything else about the man.
19
Shaw District, Barlow's End
Draconis March, Federated Suns
29 September 3026
Chu-iIsabella Armstrong watched the screens of her BattleMech, which showed a large mass moving beyond the scattered redwoods on the forest's edge. That would be the Davion patrol 'Mech, right on schedule. She checked her visual to be sure the rest of her lance was well-concealed among small copses of lesser trees, presumably invisible to the approaching enemy. This raid on Barlow's End was the Ryuken's first combat mission, as well as her own first assignment as a lance commander. She didn't want anything to go wrong.
The Davion 'Mech, a sixty-five-ton Thunderbolt,appeared. Moving with little caution, it advanced through the thinning trees from the denser forest behind it. Suddenly, the Thunderboltstaggered and lurched back a step under the impact of at least twelve missiles. Such a response was more likely surprise on the pilot's part than because of damage to the 'Mech. Those few high-explosive warheads would make little impression on the sixty-five ton machine's armor. Smoke swirled around the T-Bolt,obscuring it from view.
“Hiyaah! First blood! I claim first blood,” came the voice of ‘Mech Warrior Hiraku Jacobs over the Ryuken taccomm.
Jacob's voice confirmed what Armstrong already knew from observing the missile strike. Besides her own Catapult,Jacobs' Whitworthwas the only 'Mech in the lance that was capable of launching such a missile spread. The impulsive hotblood had broken ambush by firing prematurely on the enemy. Even now, his 'Mech was bulling through the small trees that had provided a screen from the advancing Davion T-Bolt.He was moving in for a better shot.
“You are on report, hothead,” Armstrong noted, though no one could hear her in the cockpit of her Catapult.
Armstrong's own position let her see a hundred meters past the T-Boltand down the trail it had been following. In the shadows cast by the giant trees, she could see the blocky shapes of more 'Mechs moving. Damnation! There was only supposed to be a single machine on the patrol circuit. She keyed her command frequency. “We've got extra guests for our party, lance. Fast strike, in and out. Let's use what little surprise Jacobs left us.”
Acknowledgements from ‘MechWarriors Frost and Toragama came in as she fired her jump jets. The sixty-five-ton 'Mech leaped clear of the trees to land with flexed legs on the top of a nearby rise. Even before the Catapulthad straightened, Armstrong loosed a flight of 75mm rockets from the paired launchers mounted on the back of the 'Mech's carapace. She didn't bother to aim. The approaching enemy was still bunched on the trail, and what didn't hit the first machine had a good chance of impacting on one behind it. In any case, the sudden fusillade might intimidate and confuse the enemy.
At that moment, Frost moved his Pantherup on Armstrong's left, loosing particle beams into the milling BattleMechs just inside the trees. Meanwhile, the other Panther,piloted by Toragama, came up beside Jacobs. Together they searched for a target. Between their angle and the smoke from Jacobs' first attack, they were screened from the rest of the Davion lance. When the two 'Mechs began to fire on the Thunderbolt'slast known location, the object of their attentions suddenly appeared. Bursting from the smoke, the Thunderboltcrashed forward, its enormous right-arm laser blazing red light at the Whitworth.
“Watch out!” Toragama called, alerting Jacobs to the danger.
Jacobs managed to dodge that first shot, but the enemy pilot was more than his match. The second laser shot came much closer, and Jacobs' evasive shift took him straight into the flight path of missiles from the T-BoltsDelta Dart launcher. Craters appeared in the Whitworth'supper torso and shoulder armor. Even after the cloud raised by the warhead explosions dissipated, smoke rose from the jagged gaps that the missiles had torn through the 'Mech's armor. Jacobs may have scored the first hit, but the T-Boltpilot scored the first significant damage. The Whitworth'sleft arm hung limp.
Armstrong had little time to consider her mate's plight. The Davion pilots had rallied with their leader's charge, and a Valkyriewas barreling through the thinning redwoods now, launching missiles as it came. The enemy ‘MechWarrior snap-fired a laser blast at Armstrong's Catapult,momentarily blanking her screens as the flash compensator reacted to the coherent light playing over the 'Mech. She had no worries about damage, though. At over three hundred meters, it was too hard to lock on long enough to burn through even the lightest BattleMech armor. The Davion pilot had to be a novice. Armstrong was withholding her own laser fire for more effective ranges.
She targeted on the Valkyrie,a light 'Mech. If she could take it down early, the odds would be much better. She sent a double flight of missiles at the Valkyrie.The rocket exhausts flared past her viewpoint, powering their destructive loads toward the Davion machine.
Frost must have matched her reasoning, for he was concentrating his own fire on the same 'Mech. Blue-white lightning from his PPC crackled the air. The bolt seared away paint from the Valk,revealing metal, which slagged under the intense heat.
The center of so much unwanted attention, the Valkyriepilot panicked and fired his jump jets before he had completely cleared the treeline. The 'Mech plowed into the foliage of a solitary giant. Branches cracked and tore clear as the 'Mech rose, but they stripped off most of the Valk'santenna assembly. The thirty-ton machine arced away from the fight toward a hilly patch to the northeast. From its erratic flight path, either the 'Mech or its pilot had taken damage from the Draconian attacks.