Mercenary's Star

"That is true, your Grace. It's...you must understand, your Grace. It's the jungle."

The Red Duke's eyes narrowed. "What about it?"

"The rebels control the jungle completely. We have lost several patrols to date and a number of BattleMechs. It is becoming difficult to get the Mech Warriors to take their machines into the jungle. And ineffective as well."

"How so?"

"We can only find the rebels when it suits them, your Grace. Their people can move in small groups throughout the Silvan lowlands, spotting our ‘Mechs, trailing them. Sometimes they move their own ‘Mechs to avoid a battle; other times, they might mass in one place to ambush us as we come through. And this mercenary regiment—the Gray Death, it's called. There don't seem to be many of them, but they’re devilishly effective in jungle warfare. They seem to have convinced my senior regimental officer that the jungle is no place to fight ‘Mechs."

Ricol's eyes flashed in anger. "Then perhaps you should find a more aggressive regimental commander!"

"Colonel Kevlavic is my best, your Grace. He commands the 3rd Strike Regiment...a good unit."

"Wait...the Gray Death, you said?"

Nagumo nodded. "We have good information on that, your Grace. From the prisoner Kodo mentioned. Actually, it was a young lady who served with him, and was...was induced to change sides."

"I see. Their leader's name, then, is Carlyle."

Nagumo's eyes widened. "Grayson Carlyle. Yes, your Grace. How did you know?"

"We've met before, he and I." Ricol raised a hand, flicked his fingers carelessly. "It doesn't matter. What plans have you made for crushing him?"

"Your Grace ...I've had all I could manage just holding what we already control." He indicated the Verthandi map on the wall, stabbing at places with his forefinger. "Look! A deep space relay, here. The Skovde mines, four hundred kilometers south. Patrols here and here. There have been raids by rebels trained in highly unorthodox warfare techniques as far west as Bluesward. And they're spreading, like a disease."

"Grayson Carlyle is one man," the Duke said. "Those with him ca

Nagumo shook his head sadly as he looked at the blotch of deep green marking Verthandi's jungle basin. 'That Carlyle is a damned ghost....If the odds are not to his liking, he just seems to vanish into thin air."

"Confound it, man! He must have bases! Supply sources!"

"He steals a lot of his supplies from us, and the rest must come from sympathetic farmers and plantation owners. We destroyed the rebels' main repair and refitting center here, on Fox Island, but we didn't remain there afterward. Instead of waiting around for an attack from all sides in a hostile environment, I felt it wiser to lay mines and then withdraw to the safety of Regis. We have been unable to locate another base site."

"Bah! Have you checked Fox Island again?"

"Your Grace? No...but that base was destroyed and mined, as I said."

"Grayson Carlyle is...resourceful. The one thing a BattleMech force must have, however, is a place to rebuild and rearm their ‘Mechs. If you’ve ruled out a possible hiding place for these mercenaries because you've already been there once, then I suggest to you that thatis where you will find them!"

"Possibly..." Nagumo's eyes widened. "Possibly! There were caves there. Colonel Kevlavic did report the existence of caves on Fox Island. Caves that functioned as the rebels' maintenance bays and machine shops. But we destroyedall their heavy equipment, except for what we carted away!"

"General, I submit that they are getting it from someplace, or you would already have stopped the rebellion cold. Good gods, man! How do you think he is repairing and re-arming his BattleMechs? Perhaps he salvaged the Dropship that Kodo reported as destroyed."

"I...that is...your Grace, the wrecked DropShip was washed away in a storm! I had assumed..."

"I loathe assumptions. General, even more than I loathe excuses!"

"Yes, your Grace!"

"I will be here in Verthandi for several days at least. I must return to Luthien within two months, but time remains to see that matters here are...progressing satisfactorily. I will evaluate the effectiveness and the efficiency of all military factors here. Those that do not measure up will be...replaced. Am I understood?"

"Perfectly, your Grace."

"Good. Now, has anyone thought to wonder what Carlyle is doing here? When last I saw him, he was a goodly number of light years away, off toward the Periphery."

"Yes, your Grace. My intelligence sources indicate that the rebels brought the mercenaries here to train their soldiers. This Carlyle seems to have some skill in unorthodox tactics. Taking ‘Mechs with satchel charges, man-portable rocket launchers, that sort of thing."

"He is a...a gifted warrior."

"He is also threatening the accepted order of battle. BattleMechs rule the battlefield and always have! It is unthinkable that foot soldiers could bring them down!

"There were foot soldiers in war long before there were BattleMechs, Governor. You would do well to remember that," said the Duke. "We will simply have to find a way to crush Grayson, and through him, to strike down your rebels."

"But how?"

"No man is infallible. Each of us has his weakness, a blind spot You will find Carlyle's, and you will exploit it”

“I, your Grace?"

"You will remain in command, at least for now. Meet with your staff, and then present me with a plan for moving against Fox Island in a surprise attack by this time tomorrow."

"Y-yes, your Grace."

"Don't fail me again, Nagumo." Ricol held out his hand, palm up, and slowly closed his fingers into a fist "I mean to have Grayson Carlyle. More than I want this planet for the Draconis Combine, I want Carlyle. And you, General, are going to deliver him to me."

31

Grayson held his hand to the side of his neurohelmet, pressing the com speaker tight against his ear. Ramage's voice was faint, routed through five separate relay stations, but his words were clear.

"It's at least a full company, Captain," he was saying. They deployed down the Rim Road in tight order, covered by infantry, and with low-level fighter cover."

"Are the fighters giving you any trouble?"

"Not so far. They've been low over the clearing where the plantation used to be, but they haven't been able to spot us yet."

"How long until the column reaches you?"

"Half an hour. Maybe less."

"Right. Play it according to plan. We'll let you know how it goes."

"Yeah, do that. Ramage out"

Grayson switched to the general combat frequency. Through the cockpit viewport of his Shadow Hawk,he could see other ‘Mechs of the hastily assembled strike force strung out along the ravine ahead of him. The Gray Death BattleMechs stood motionless close by the walls of the ravine. In the shadows beneath the trees, Verthandian rebels moved in small groups or lounged beside their camouflaged hover transports. Lori's Locuststood on the crest above the valley, its spindly form silhouetted against the orange sun of Norn. The sky was clear, which made for hazardous movement in the open. On the plus side, though, if the enemy was moving against Fox Island, Kurita air surveillance would be turned toward the jungle, not here, well into the Bluesward Plateau.