OPREF-4 Chpt 16

=Book 4, Chapter 16 - Full House=
==Opalescent Reflections==
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===Ambush in the deep black===
Nadir Jump Point, Topaz
Deep Periphery
3 January 3059
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Waiting at Topaz to refuel and shift cargo between ships had been a calculated risk.
There were other reasons, Tyra reflected as her Sulla raced towards the smoke-gray mass of the warship ahead of Valkyrie squadron. Some of the wounded would do better in gravity and natural sunlight after the race through deep space from Huntress. Hydroponic greenhouses left on the barren world had raised a crop while they were away, adding to food supplies.
Most of all, the Task Force needed a rest. Huntress had been more than a quick hit and run raid. Weeks of fighting had taken a strain on everyone. Squadrons, crews and lances had been shuffled and re-shuffled, shipments of loot from Smoke Jaguar factories and stores had sent up and stowed in frantic haste, not always accurately or clearly labeled.
The time had let them take stock and prepare for the long voyage home.
It had been a calculated risk, but their math had been just a hair off.
Aerospace fighters were closing in behind Valkyrie squadron, a ten-strong star of Visigoths from the Lola III destroyer that had jumped into the star system. How Topaz was found remained a mystery - perhaps it was just dumb luck - but the Snow Raven ship had boldly issued its challenge despite being outnumbered by the remaining escort.
CRS Spur was no match alone for CSS Los Angeles, CSS San Jose and CSS Salt Lake City, even with the battle damage the three had suffered in the fighting over Huntress that had destroyed or crippled their sister-ships. The Spur was basically the same design, upgraded by the Clans rather than ComStar, but originally a Lola III that had once served the Star League. The boldness might have meant that the commander was showing the arrogance that might be expected of the Clan’s paramount warship fleet… but from the comm-chatter, Alain Beresick thought that it was more likely that the destroyer had an HPG and was calling in aid.
Flares of light marked JumpShips disappearing from the Topaz system. All of them had been retracting their jumpsails before the Spur jumped in - a few more hours and the Snow Ravens would have missed the fleet entirely.
Tyra saw the Visigoths closing the range. The Snow Raven fighters couldn’t accelerate as fast as Valkyrie squadron’s lighter fighters - the four surviving Cor-Stars and a pair of Smoke Jaguar Sullas captured on the ground during the fighting on Huntress - but that didn’t matter much when the Valkyries were slowing so that they didn’t overfly their destination.
“Clear the rear!” she ordered and all six of the Flying Drakon aerospace fighters flicked their noses to open fire on the Visigoths. Already flying ‘backwards’ as they slowed, it didn’t take much adjustment. Lasers raked through space and the Snow Ravens fired their own drives to evade, interrupting their interception angles.
“That won’t keep them long,” Tyra warned. The Clan pilots must have expected this and there wasn’t much time to engage. The aerospace fighters had to be aboard their carriers before the fleet jumped out or they would be left behind.
No one wanted that, but the JumpShips and their cargoes could not be risked for a few pilots.
((“It doesn’t have to,”)) Steffers told her, jiggling the Cor-Star’s rear to spray more laser fire from his nose guns in the direction of the nearest Snow Raven. ((“That was the last of the JumpShips.”))
Checking her display, Tyra exhaled slightly in relief when she saw that her second-in-command was right: The last of the delicate JumpShips was gone, leaving just the friendly warships sharing the jump-point with the lone Snow Raven.
“If they’re smart, they’ll break off,” she predicted. “They aren’t packing nukes as far as I can tell.”
Cowley sounded less than confident. >>“Unless they’re crazy enough to ram.”<<
Closing speeds were dropping rapidly and Tyra could see the warships they were heading for without much magnification now. Doing so meant she was first to see the flashes of light. “They’re opening up!” she shouted. “Tuck in close!”
Like the veterans that they were, the rest of the squadron nudged their thrusters and closed into formation with her.
>>“Damn bucket had better be aiming right.”<< Cowley grumbled.
“They have the pick of their gunners,” Tyra told him. “And it’s the DropShips as much as the Bucket of Bolts.”
The most junior of the squadron’s officers didn’t seem reassured: ]]“Yeah, but the droppers can’t erase us with a single hit!”[[
The volleys of fire tore through space around the Valkyries and this, at last, was too much for the Visigoths. Flying in pairs, which was more discipline than Tyra had seen from Clan pilots before, the star of fighters peeled away, accelerating into a loop that took them away from the rear-guard of the fleet.
Tyra watched them for any parting shots, but there was no sign of them trying to spin and take the opportunity. There was a double flash from behind them and Steffers announced: ((“That was Los Angeles.”))
Two destroyers left.
“The Ravens are out of reach,” Tyra decided. “Hard burn now, we don’t want to be left behind.”
“No way, no how.”
“Can’t keep the boss lady from her date.”
Tyra knew they couldn’t even see her glaring, but she tried anyway as the squadron pushed their throttles wide open. “It’s not a date, it’s a win-win proposition.”
((“You’re having dinner with him, lead.”)) Steffers pointed out.
“If his attempt at swedish meatballs is the disaster I expect, then I’ll have a case of the best beer in the Clan Homeworlds,” she countered. “And if it turns out he can really cook, I’ll be enjoying swedish meatballs while you’re chowing on whatever the canteen provides.”
-<“You’re a wicked woman, boss,”>- the lojtnant admitted. -<“But what if the prince has someone cooking for him?”>-
“That’s why I’ll be watching him in the kitchen.”
>>“And what do you lose if he can cook?”<< Cowley asked curiously.
Tya chuckled. “Two bottles of Franklin Black Label. Can you believe he claims to like the stuff? Mechwarriors, am I right?”
“Last woman who knew that much about my drinking habits, I married her,” Valkyrie Two warned. He was new, a replacement for their one casualty, slotted in as Tyra’s wingman since they both had Sullas issued to replace their lost fighters.
“Shut your face, Biggs.” she shot back.
Cowley grunted. >>“I didn’t know you were married,” he admitted. “Where is she now?”<<
“How would I know? I got dear johned and divorced when I signed up for this mission. Two or three years away was a dealbreaker.” Biggs didn’t seem too cut up about it,
The massive grey hull was upon them now, dotted with the many DropShips docked with it. At first Tyra thought the flash of light in the distance was another destroyer leaving, but then she saw it was too far away.
<<“More warships!”>> Beresick announced from the ship they were closing on. <<“Valkyrie Squadron, you’re the last to land, get aboard now.”>>
“You heard him!” Tyra called and turned the Sulla around. “Berth and lock, we are out of time!”
Their destination wasn’t the ship itself - the Valkyrie’s last parent ship, CSS Boise, had been sent into the fiery grave of Huntress’ star after it was deemed too damaged to jump again without repairs they could not make with the limited time and resources available. Leaving a salvageable hull for the Clans was unacceptable. Their new home had been captured from among the DropShips that had carried Sarah Weaver and her forces back to Huntress. Unimaginatively called a ‘Carrier-class’ by the Clans, the little DropShip had room for more fighters than just the Valkyries, making it relatively spacious for them.
The hangar doors were wide open and Tyra lined herself up before cutting the fusion thruster.
Momentum carried her into grasp of mechanical restraints before she was fully into the dropship, a system that dragged the sleek Sulla inside and then down into one of the bays. Valkyrie Two was right behind her, Biggs’ fighter pulled over hers and then into the next bay.
Finally Cowley’s Cor-Star coasted in after them, clamps seizing and locking it in place before it could overshoot.
The hangar doors clanged shut so fast that Tyra felt it even in the depressurized hangar and the nauseating feeling of a K-F drive activating swept across her. Beresick must have been counting the seconds.
The transition seemed to take forever and no time at all.
“We made it,” Biggs breathed.
“This time,” Tyra muttered. “They know where we’re going.”
But she was wrong. //“All hands,”\\ Beresick announced, voice sent from the command deck of the warship once known as Osis’ Pride but since rechristened by popular vote SLS Bucket-of-Bolts to every deck and every attached dropship. //“We cannot risk a direct line to the Inner Sphere now that the Snow Ravens have a lead on us. We have jumped an easy twenty light years spinwards of Topaz, which they will hopefully not guess. From here we will head for an Explorer Corps base deep in the periphery to resupply - it will take us longer to get home, but going via Columbus Base gives us a much better chance of making it.”\\
“I guess the high command was ahead of you, boss-lady.”
Tyra pulled off her helmet. “As long as they’re ahead of the Clans, I’m okay with that.” Besides, and she looked at the tactical display that updated her on the other fighters of the squadron, I’m already home.
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===Dealing with Hellions===
Landing, Polcenigo
Diamond Shark Dominion
17 February 3059
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It was often easy to under-estimate DropShips when you saw them from the inside or in the distances common in space. Up close even the smallest DropShips towered over a BattleMech.
Of course, most of Ace’s personal experience was with DropShips intended to carry BattleMechs, so being larger was something of a prerequisite. The Overlord-C DropShips that made up the bulk of the inbound flotilla each towered more than ten times the height of his Huntsman. They were scarred by battle, but they wore those scars as proudly as they did the emblems of Clan Ice Hellion.
“How is your math?” Ace asked quietly.
The reply came from the command tower of the drop-port. “I swear on my life, those DropShips are running at less than half their full cargo tonnage. Even with the Ice Hellions penchant for smaller ‘mechs, they are still under full load.”
“Harry is very good at math,” Thomas confirmed sagely. “He occasionally has trouble tying his boot laces, but then, his eyes are much further from them than most peoples.”
“You are just jealous of my superior intellect and tactical prowess,” the elemental protested cheerfully. Although they came from different sibkos, the pair shared a patrimonial ancestor and squabbled exactly as if they had been raised together.
“I hope you are correct, it will make this much easier,” Ace observed before Thomas could continue the friendly bickering. “They are low enough now. Inform them of where they are landing.”
The DropShips were low enough that their fusion torches were already making the air noticeably warmer around the drop port. In just a few moments they would be down on the ground, and they had only a limited combat patrol in the air to escort them down. Why would they? After all, they had been told that Clan Smoke Jaguar had no objection to their presence.
Ace had worried that the Hellions would smell a rat, but apparently whoever was in command up there thought that the Smoke Jaguars were friendly… or perhaps, that they were so desperate for aid that they would refrain from the usual dominance plays. More fool them.
“Ice Hellion DropShips,” Harry transmitted from the control tower, which had been evacuated of everyone else. “I regret to inform you that this drop port and this world are now in the hands of Clan Diamond Shark. You are landing without our consent, and I command that you depart!”
The radio cut off and Ace saw glass shatter as the elemental dove through an armor glass panel overlooking the port, firing his jump jets only after he was clear to maximize his distance. That was a wise decision, because a moment later one of the aerospace fighters opened up on the control tower and obliterated it.
Ace’s Huntsman and the other ‘mechs were already moving out of the hangars and warehouses they had been hidden in. Lights on his tactical display marked aerospace fighters taking off in the distance where they had been hidden. It would take precious moments for the fighters to arrive and the entire situation might be resolved by then.
If, of course, the Ice Hellion commander responded wisely. That was… not a given.
“Ice Hellions!” Ace declared on the general broadcast. “You have dared to fire without provocation upon my officer! Epsilon Galaxy! Omega Galaxy! Destroy these interlopers!”
The moment had been picked carefully: the DropShips weren’t quite at the point where they couldn’t abort the landing, but they had no time to discuss the matter. Every dropship commander would have to decide on the spot if they were going to keep landing in a drop port that was suddenly swarming with Diamond Shark forces or if they were going to break for orbit.
As Ace’s Huntsman raced towards the landing fields, he saw a Broadsword raise its nose and fire the aft thrusters, fighting for altitude. The small dropship was only the first, and more DropShips responded as the commanders - or sometimes the pilots - decided that for all their firepower and armor they did not wish to be immobile targets on the ground.
Not all of them made that choice, though. The Clans were aggressive by default and four Overlords continued to descend, supported in that decision by a pair of Unions and a single Broadsword and Carrier - the latter two aiming for the long runways rather than the pads.
But even as they settled down, the DropShips did not open their hatches. Some of their mechwarriors might be in their cockpits, but at a ‘friendly’ drop port it was unlikely that all would be. And after the reports of running battles across the Diamond Shark Dominion… many might not be fit for battle.
thumb|Union-C Class DropShip
Every ‘mech opened fire on the DropShips as they landed - they could hardly miss such targets. Ace focused his own PPCs on one of the turrets of the Union C nearest him, the bolts of energy digging into the armor plating and buckling the barrels of the aft gauss rifles.
Not far behind, Michel’s restored Warhawk opened fire on the next turret, stitching the LRM launcher with pulses of coherent light that shredded the boxy system before it could fully extend and be brought to bear.
Over a hundred other ‘mechs were doing the same. Their weapons were mere pin-pricks in comparison to the firepower that would have been brought to bear by other DropShips, and most of the mechwarriors weren’t showing the precision of Ace and Michel. More than half his force had been pulled from garrison units - Kevin Nagasawa had volunteered one of his clusters to fight alongside the Ivory Skate, but he had to keep most of his warriors to rebuild the ragged ranks of Omega Galaxy.
But there were a lot of pinpricks… and they were close enough now that just opening the hatches into the ‘mech bays would open the way for Diamond Sharks to get aboard.
One of the Overlords did so anyway and as Ace shifted his aim to one of the secondary thrusters higher up the globular hull of the Union, he saw a star of light BattleMechs charge right up the ramps and into the ‘mech bays, elementals clinging desperately to fast moving Incubus and Piranha ‘mechs that were not intended to cary them.
The Overlord could have been carrying as many as forty-five BattleMechs between their three bays. In the close confines, Ace didn’t think much of the chances of the Diamond Shark mechwarriors making it out again if many of the defending 'mechs were manned. But the Dropship would take serious damage and now there were twenty-five Elementals inside, which would be lethal against the crew and dismounted mechwarriors.
Guns were firing back now from the DropShips as the crews reacted, but many of their turrets were placed to fire up at targets ahead of the DropShips, and the other turrets had either been knocked out or were drawing fire exactly because they were fighting back.
“Incoming fighters,” Harry warned and Ace looked up, seeing winged shapes descending from the sky. It was too soon for this to be friendlies and his sensors confirmed it - the fighters were coming on attack runs, most of them Visigoths. While the design was too common to be unknown among the Diamond Sharks, Ace’s aerospace trinaries were dominated by the lighter Turk and Sulla, production of heavier fighters was still lagging.
<<“Treacherous Sharks!”>> a voice called out as the Hellions descended to defend the landed DropShips the only way that they could. There were only ten of them, and they had to know it was too late to save the DropShips. Even if they managed to take off, over a hundred Diamond Shark fighters were incoming. But the Hellions attacked anyway and Ace saw a Sabutai diving towards him.
Throwing his Huntsman to one side, Ace fired his jump jets to make a long and low jump away from the incoming fire. It would be almost impossible for such a fast moving craft to track him…
But the Sabutai turned sharply to keep him in the fighter’s path anyway and it opened up with pulse lasers, particle beams and even a gauss rifle. The shots hammered into Ace’s Huntsman, carving away armor all across his front and knocking him off course, he landed badly and barely managed to twist and fire one PPC back at the Sabutai as it climbed again, infrared signature glowing from the heat generated by those massive salvos.
Ace wasn’t the only one firing back - three of the Visigoths plowed into the ground, one of them at such a low angle that it skipped up again and smashed into the wing of the landed Broadsword. Another exploded as it hit the ground, carrying enough munitions that the blast knocked two Diamond Shark ‘mechs near the crash to the ground.
Almost casually firing his other PPC towards the Union and defacing the Ice Hellion badge on its armor, Ace kept his eyes on the Sabutai as it looped up into the sky. The fighter was a Smoke Jaguar design and they didn’t give them out lightly - whoever was in it had to be a leader.
While they were clearly inept enough to get into this mess, that didn’t mean he wanted them to escape. And the pilot clearly felt the same way as they rolled the fighter over and came right down at him once more.
This time Ace maneuvered to put the Union at his back - shots that missed him might hit the DropShip. If he had expected that to deter the Ice Hellion though, it didn’t. They held their pulse lasers back but the gauss rifle crashed against the Huntsman’s anti-missile system, wrecking it. One PPC stripped away more armor on the left leg, penetrating the knee, although the other missed and dug into the Union’s armor.
Ace’s own PPCs didn’t miss. Properly braced, he sighted in on the forward canards either side of the cockpit and both of them were obliterated by the powerful bolts of charged energy.
Deprived of its control surfaces, the Sabutai fought to climb again, but it was coming in too aggressively and Ace hopped the Huntsman aside before the stricken fighter could crash right through him.
Once again, the pilot proved their skill… or perhaps fanaticism. They could have ejected, but instead they slewed the damaged fighter to the side and as it belly flopped onto the ferrocrete, the wreck skidded right towards the limping Huntsman.
Ace tried to avoid the collision with his jump jets but the damage to the left leg was just too much and it was clipped by one of the vertical stabilizers, sending him sprawling ignominiously.
“Not the most glorious kill of your career.” Michel observed, loping his Warhawk over to join Shiro in covering Ace as he brought the Huntsman upright.
“This is not supposed to be glorious,” Ace answered. “It is supposed to break them.”
The fire from the DropShips was dying down and as he watched, the last pair of Visigoths decided that discretion was indeed the better part of valor, going vertical as they tried to catch up with the DropShips that had decided not to land. Ace didn’t like their chances, but he wasn’t a pilot and perhaps they had learned something useful.
With a sigh, he opened communications again. “This is Galaxy Commander Enders signaling the Ice Hellion Khans.”
After a long moment, a woman replied: <<“This is Khan Danielle Lienet. Your dishonorable trap does your Clan no honor.”>>
“Honor to the honorable, Khan Lienet. Your Clan joined a coalition to stab us in the back. Does Khan Taney have nothing to say?”
<<“Khan Taney’s fighter was flying with our combat air patrol,”>> Lienet told him. <<“His fighter is not among those in the air, so he is… unavailable. You may have a better idea of his state than I.”>>
Ace looked at the burning wreck that wasn’t quite underneath the Union but was certainly dangerously close. “Did he pilot a Sabutai, by some chance?”
<<“Aff.”>> she replied shortly.
“Then I suppose he is busy conversing with Leo Showers.” Ace’s eyes narrowed further. “We claim this world, Khan Lienet. But we make no claim on the worlds further into the Smoke Jaguars’ invasion corridor. You may have free passage to them and the same to your friends in the Hells’ Horses. Perhaps you will receive help from the Jaguars or perhaps you will need to fight them for supplies and bases. Either way, it is not our business.”
<<“You want me to turn against our allies?”>> Lienet exclaimed. <<“Do you think our honor is so lacking?”>>
“I do not care. Showers is dead and from what I hear, Weaver is also dead. I could not tell you who the Smoke Jaguar’s khans are now. For all I care you can go all the way to Rasalhague, it is only three jumps or so.” Ace paused. “But get the hell out of our Dominion. You are not welcome here.”
For a moment he thought Lienet was done with the conversation, but then she asked: <<“Do you Sharks really think you can keep so vast an empire? You are surrounded by enemies.”>>
“If you like your chances, come down here and fight.” he offered. Barbara’s best estimate was that half the forces the Hellions had brought to the Inner Sphere were dead or otherwise unable to fight. As much as half of what remained was penned up in their DropShips in front of Ace. “Otherwise, leave us to get on with ruling that empire.”
Khan Danielle Lienet did not, in fact, come down and fight. By the time that the Ice Hellion fleet departed Polcenigo, those within the DropShips had surrendered and were being processed as bondsmen, as their remaining equipment was similarly being cataloged for repair and use by the Diamond Sharks.
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===Facing fate like Samuari===
Imperial City, Irurzun
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
18 February 3059
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Minoru’s first warning was that he didn’t recognize either of the guards guarding the door that led down to the black room.
Sometimes the press of business and protocol was such that new members of the Otomo couldn’t be presented to him before they served their first duty postings. It was unfortunate, but unavoidable. But in that case they should be paired with a veteran.
Even then, Minoru’s first thought was that there had been a mistake, something he would have to gently chide Carlos Kinnison over and that the commander of the Otomo would verbally eviscerate the officer responsible for.
Then the palace was rocked by an explosion, the first of several. And even then he didn’t truly see the threat until the two guards, having first moved to shield he and Atsuko with their bodies, started to hustle them away from the door and the shelter it offered.
Soft, some whispered about him. More a scholar than a warrior.
He had been careless, Minoru admitted in a small part of his mind. Lowered his guard.
But this was no time for that. Whatever they thought, he was a Kurita.
The first of the fake-Otomo found his throat opened by the Coordinator’s wakizashi.
The second was beyond Atsuko, he had his hands on Minoru’s wife!
A heartbeat later, Minoru Kurita had his hands on the man. He lifted, turned… and then dropped to his knees.
Delivered head first to the ground with all the weight of his body-armor, weapons and other gear at the exact wrong angle… the imposter’s neck snapped.
Real Otomo would have been better, Minoru thought before he realized that Atsuko was screaming. He caught her in his arms and ran back towards the door. His wife closed her mouth as the first shock wore off and she clutched hold of him. The coordinator only needed a hand free to open the door, the handle coded to his fingers. Atsuko ducked her head as they went through, panic banished after the first surprise.
He set her down as the door closed behind her. “Minoru?”
“A moment,” he asked, tapping controls on the panel next to the door. Another door opened at a right angle, leading down the stairs. “We need to go. Stay close.”
“Always,” she promised and followed him down, never more than a step behind him. Minoru could feel her warmth.
Stair after stair, each sealed by another armored door. Some of the landings were gratings, intended to draw away gasses or liquids that might be poured down them. He felt his heart beat sixty times before they were at the bottom and climbed one further flight to reach the door into the Black Room.
Atsuko had never been here before, but she wasted no questions about it. “Our enemies?” she asked instead, standing by the door - she would not be able to open it now without him, but did not dare the table. “The Clans are not so subtle, Davion is bold but…”
“But not when we are between him and the most powerful Clan remaining,” Minoru agreed, leaning on the table and taking a deep breath. Then he flipped on the console built into it and started checking comms and security. There were red and amber lights almost everywhere. “This is pushback.”
His worst fear.
“Pushback?” Atsuko stepped closer, pulled back the seat at the table and offered it.
Minoru sat down, but did not look back at her. “Hugai Kurita let the nobility run wild after ComStar humiliated him. Hohiro Kurita - Hugai's son and my great-grandfather, not my brother - empowered the military to rein in the nobility. And my grandfather allowed the nobility influence with the DCMS, to divide them and the high command, pitting them against each other to rebuild House Kurita’s dominance.” He paused. “My father’s reforms were more blatant, a professional military answerable to the Coordinator. But there are those who remember near-sovereign nobles and a high command to whom the Combine was the army’s logistical train and little more.”
Atsuko swallowed. “Are they mad? If you come to harm, your brother will never forgive them.”
“Ah, but I am young and easily led.” The first explosion had been the Otomo barracks, the second the comms center, he saw. Up above, soldiers in black Otomo uniforms were moving to secure every ministry, every entrance. Battlemechs in gold-trimmed black were exiting the hangars to take hold of choke points. It was the textbook security lockdown that should follow such an attack - such a shame that not one face under those helmets was familiar to Minoru. “Clearly it is evil advisors who have led me astray. When the righteous officers and officials are able to stand at my side and my back, traditional values will be restored.” Cynicism dripped like poison from his lips.
She stared at him for a moment, then reached out and placed her right hand over the back of his. “You have feared this for a long time.”
Minoru stared down at their hands, the console below it. “I had hoped that leading our people to victory over the Clans would reduce the threat of this. Instead, I may have released them from the pressure to remain united.”
His right hand was still dancing over the console and he managed to access the security cameras for the offices used by senior military officers who were attending court. He saw familiar faces at last, but not in a way that he had hoped. Boris Petrov had not gone quietly into the night: three of the faux-Otomo lay dead around him… but the Warlord of Benjamin was still on the floor, red blood soaking the front of his white uniform jacket as he sprawled on his back in the lobby, chest not rising or falling.
Atsuko covered her mouth with her free hand at the sight. “What can I do?”
Minoru looked up at his wife, seeing himself reflected in her eyes. “For now, keep doing what you’re doing.” Her fingers closed slightly over on his hand.
The palace was a loss. The Coordinator forced himself to accept that and activated a private communications system that had been built into the city from the beginning, hidden in the vast construction programme that had erected it. A way for him to reach out beyond the palaces to the wider communications net of Irurzun.
A moment later, and the screen lit with a very different scene. The desk of his cousin’s secretary, backed by a large Combine flag. The man behind the desk was less immaculate than usual, a lock of hair loose from his usual tight bun, but he was no less efficient. His eyes met Minoru’s and there was a moment of recognition. “Lord Kurita,” he said. “The Coordinator is in the line.”
The camera was yanked sharply around, the secretary replaced with the round features of Chandrasekhar Kurita. ((“Tono, I feared for your life and freedom.”))
“You are informed, then?”
((“I have many contacts,”)) the industrial magnate admitted. ((“None that warned me of this, but some who would contact me only under the direst of circumstances. The message I had but moments ago was that you could not be reached with an urgent report. There are few reasons for this.”)) He shrugged helplessly. ((“Fewer that are good.”))
“Then in summary, the Otomo have been compromised or destroyed, the palace is in hostile hands.” Minoru closed his hands into fists. There was only one other DCMS formation on Irurzun that could act as a rallying point and, most importantly, was equipped to retake at least part of the Imperial City quickly. “Can you make contact with the Ryuken?”
Chandrasekhar’s face was pale, but his voice was steady - if more serious than usual. ((“Director Indrahar’s call - on a private number I did not know he was aware of - was to find some way to inform you that the Ryuken barracks have been gassed. Casualties were almost total. He did not say who has access to their equipment... which implies that it is not good news.”))
Minoru closed his eyes for a moment. What had once been a powerful corps of five ‘mech regiments had taken the brunt of buying time to rally against the Diamond Sharks. The five surviving battalions were on Irurzun as an honor: trusting them with the security of the capital beyond the Imperial City - and to give them time to rebuild. Almost two hundred capable, loyal mechwarriors with some of the best equipment available. Their reward had become a death sentence.
((“Tono, you must leave the capital,”)) his cousin insisted. ((“I can arrange a shuttle and there are several JumpShips that can take you to a loyal regiment. Whoever is behind this cannot have corrupted many units.”))
He swallowed. “I cannot.”
((“Tono… Minoru.”))
“I. Can. Not,” he repeated. “It is not a matter of will, it is a fact.” His eyes went to the console. “Every exit from the Black Room has been compromised. They have not yet started trying to blow the doors open but once they do, it is only a matter of time before they enter.”
Atsuko gasped. All Minoru could offer in comfort was to reach over and place his right hand over hers.
There was a ping from her pocket and she looked embarrassed.
“You had better answer,” he told her. No one would randomly get a call to a personal comm inside the Black Room. The only way to get such a call through the sophisticated electronic security was to control one of three comm nodes, one of which was still under Minoru’s control and possibly still a secret. The others were the palace and the military comm centers.
Atsuko’s comm unit was sleek and modern. She raised it to her ear. “Moshi moshi… ah, otousan.”
Her father. Minoru looked at the screen and saw understanding on Chandrasekhar’s face. He looked back and saw his wife’s face growing gray as she listened to Oda Hideyoshi. Saw understanding dawn upon her.
“I will tell him,” she said quietly when her father was done and she cut the comm.
He raised a questioning eyebrow.
“My father,” she said quietly, “Offers his services to mediate with those currently controlling the Imperial City. He apologizes that it is not within his means to place his sword at your service at this time.” And then: “It is too soon for him to be placed to do so unless he was already aware.”
((“Treason,”)) Chandrasekhar said simply.
“Yes,” Atsuko admitted. “My father has betrayed you.”
Minoru opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, then gave her the same honesty. “My duty to the Combine does not include handing its rule over to a treacherous cabal.”
“Of course not.” She looked into his eyes, “There is no escape?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Minoru sighed. “I can open the doors sequentially from here, let you get out. Your father is probably placed to protect you.”
Atsuko had never taken a seat. Now she fell to the floor, resting on her knees. “I had no part in this!”
“I know, but you need not die with me.” Putting it into words hurt. He was going to die now. There would be no decades growing old with Atsuko. No gentle retirement, passing the throne to a son when one was ready. Just death.
“My lord,” she told him, not looking up. “We do not know that I am not with child. If they cannot have you, then your child would be a rallying point against alternatives.”
((“And if you are not pregnant?”)) Chandrasekhar said bluntly. Atsuko might be out of his view but he could clearly hear her.
“Then no doubt it will be ensured quickly enough that I am, to present a claim.”
Breath left Minoru’s lungs at the brutal implication of that. He reached down for Atsuko, hands finding her long hair loose around her shoulders. “I…”
“I promised to live my entire life with you.” she said in a small voice.
“It would seem that you married a true samurai,” his cousin said sadly. “I will contact Director Indrahar and see if he can find a way, but…”
Minoru pushed his chair away and crouched to put his arms around Atsuko. “I had hoped for, planned for, that life to be longer.”
“Death,” she said in a trembling voice, “is lighter than a feather.”
He stood, drawing his wife to her feet. “Take the shuttle you mentioned, cousin. Take word to those who are loyal. Take my last commands: purge the Combine of this corruption. Tell Sorenson to spread his reforms to those who will welcome them. And tell my… tell Franklin that the Combine will need a sound foundation to reclaim more than Galedon. I trust him…”
“Do you wish me to record a message?”
Minoru buried his face in his wife’s face. Thought of the demolition charges buried in the foundations of this room and also of the buildings above. Of the limited time left.
“Yes,” he said at last. And, at Chandrasekhar’s nod, he looked into the camera. Not caring that Atsuko would be in the camera’s view. “Let the people know that we have been betrayed. Let the soldiers bleeding to free our worlds know that traitors lacked the courage for our struggle. A coordinator may die, but the dragon will live on. I, Minoru Kurita, am no longer free to discharge the duties leading House Kurita. For this, I will answer to my ancestors. As of this moment, I name my brother Franklin Kurita as the thirty-second Coordinator of the Draconis Combine…”
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Chapter 4-16