Mercenary's Star

Very quickly, Grayson found that he could not begin to cope with the logistical nightmare by himself. He reorganized the army under local commanders, men and women who had already learned what the Gray Death had to teach and who had proven themselves in combat against the enemy. These commanders took their own units, organized as short battalions, to hiding places throughout the Silvan Forest, while friendly plantation owners and farmers diverted most of the food tagged for delivery to Regis to the rebel camps. When questioned by the Regis Blues, the standing answer was "The rebels took it! I had no choice!"

In the end, Nagumo had over a hundred BattleMechs and elements of eight separate infantry regiments tied to a score of towns, villages, cities, mines, and transport sites, while the rebels held near-absolute control over every other habitable part of the planet. The Governor General could not allow this state of affairs to continue much longer. Not if he wished to keep his head when the Red Duke returned.

As the rebel raids continued, it became painfully clear to him that the rebels were drawing their supplies from one source only: the supply dumps established by Nagumo's own troops. Such depots were necessary if Nagumo's forces were to operate with any kind of freedom outside the walls of Regis, but they invited attack and were difficult to defend. After all, there were so many sites to protect, and only so many operational ‘Mechs at any given time...

With that realization, Nagumo's eyes had widened, and his fist had come down on the palm of his other hand with a smack. The mercenaries were the key to the rebels' success. They always had been. Perhaps it was not too late to destroy the rebels by striking down those mercs. And if he could capture Grayson Carlyle himself...

Nagumo was sure he had the answer now, and those supply dumps were going to be the key.

33

Seven BattleMechs worked their way through the light woods. No longer did any practical distinction exist between mercenary or Free Verthandian unit. When Grayson gave the commands, the other six ‘Mechs spread out in a line behind the low ridge above the Kurita supply depot.

As he called off the names, each responded in turn. McCall in his battered Riflemanand Clay in his Wolverinewere the only other representatives of the Gray Death present in the column. The others were lighter BattleMechs of the Free Verthandi Rangers: Vikki Traxen's Locust,Collin Dace's Phoenix Hawk,Olin Sonovarro's Wasp,and Nadine Cheka's Stinger.An eighth member of the raiding party, Lori Kalmar, had been posted in her Locuston a hill three kilometers back. Once the supply dump was secured, she would lead in the main body of the rebel hover transports to fill up on needed provisions and ammo.

"Move to your assault positions," Grayson said over the combat frequency. "And stand by. Transmit when you're in position."

Grayson fingered the controls on his cockpit vision devices, enlarging the image displayed on his main screen. The dump was peaceful enough, a typical collection of drab, military-style quonset huts and stack upon stack of crates, tanks, and boxes. There was a light fence around the perimeter of the base, and Grayson could see sentries—conventional infantry—pacing just outside. In the distance was the village of Blackjack, partly hidden by the trees. A farmer from Blackjack had arrived at the main rebel camp in the Silvan forest only a week before with word that this Kurita supply dump was being constructed.

He smiled to himself. More and more of the native Verthandians had been making contact with rebel forces across the planet's northern hemisphere, asking to join the Free Verthandian Legion, offering weapons, help, or shelter, offering information about Kurita movements, garrisons, and plans. Janice had been instrumental in that.

His smile grew wider. He liked Janice. It was fun to be with her and fun to talk to her. Their late-night walks had become less frequent in recent weeks, though, because she had joined the Free Verthandian Legion and begun training under Ramage's battery of instructors.

Grayson wished that Lori understood. He'd seen little of her since that evening at the Li Plantation. The memory was still painful. Why, though, did he feel guilty when she had made it so abundantly clear that a relationship with him was no longer of interest? Besides, the most important aspect of his relationship with Janice had nothing to do with evening walks or tender kisses among Verthandi's jungles. Janice was proving to be a treasure trove of information about Verthandian beliefs, attitudes, hopes, and passions. This was especially crucial now that Verthandians in the villages and towns and even those living in the shadow of the towers of Regis University had left the middle ground and become solid supporters of the rebellion. More and more Blues were deserting, and Nagumo's officers found fewer and fewer Loyalist families to give them information on rebel activities or positions.

Urgent voices suddenly interrupted Grayson's thoughts.

"Davis, in position."

"Sonovarro, ready."

"McCall, aye."

The others checked in quickly, one after another.

"Right," Grayson said. "Ladies and gentlemen, our supply officer is waiting."

The rebels had come to refer to Nagumo almost affectionately as their supply officer, but for several weeks now, supply dumps and depots had dried up. It was almost as though Nagumo had finally realized that his equipment and stores were subsidizing the rebel army. This new depot was going to be a big help to the rebels.

He gave the area one last long, hard look. There was no sign of enemy forces, of ‘Mechs or gun emplacements or troops. When he'd first heard about this single supply base, far out in the central expanse of the Southern Highlands, hundreds of kilometers from Regis or the

Silvan Basin, it had made him suspicious of a trap. He was still uneasy.

Why had Nagumo put the dump here? There were no mines close enough to draw on the supplies, no airfields or spaceports, no BattleMech maintenance centers or any other thing of enough value to warrant a BattleMech guard. Grayson had nearly decided to leave it alone. What with three more rebel MechWarriors ready to be assigned machines, and those machines needing long- and short-ranged missiles, autoca

No, this base was too important to pass up. The farmer had reported only two BattleMechs in the area, a pair of battle-gouged Centurion's,and those were often out on patrol. There was no sign of them now. In fact, it looked too peaceful, too easy.

"Wha' d'ye see. Captain?" McCall asked over the private circuit.

"Not a bloody thing."

"And tha's worryin' ye." McCall knew Grayson well enough now to read his moods.

"It is. What's a base like that doing way out here, anyway?"

Clay had been listening in. "We may learn that when we take it. Captain. They may be pla

"Possibly." It was so quiet. He changed frequencies. "Lori?"

"Here, Captain."

"Your people all set?"

"We're set, Captain. Just give the word."

"I want to make this a fast one, in and get-the-hell out fast. To coin a cliche, it's too quiet, and I don't like it one bit."