Battletech ghost bears l.., p.1
BattleTech: Ghost Bear's Lament (Part Two), page 1
THE FADING CALL
OF GLORY
Word of Blake Jihad
3073
Disaster struck the Bears in their den.
Star Commander Richard Bekker battled
space’s cold grasp,
Determined to rescue brothers and sisters from pointless death.
His bravery saved ten.
Darkness took the rest.
—The Remembrance, Passage 324, Verse 12, Lines 6-10
CHAPTER ONE
On the Shore of the Crucible Sea
Tukayyid, Ghost Bear Dominion
12 June 3073
Star Colonel Richard Bekker’s rank, his future, even his life, hung on the outcome of this meeting—so he had carefully selected its venue. He had chosen a place where the rainforest pushed up against the sea. Normally, this was a wet region, but it had been a dry, brittle summer. Richard felt the heat on the back of his neck.
Twenty meters below the precipice, water the bright color of cobalt battered itself against the black, knife-edged rock of the shore, the sea smashing itself into white spray before falling back and gathering itself for yet another assault. A cold wind tasting of brine and salt came racing off that angry sea, stirring the ankle-high, wild grass that marched right up to the edge of the ocean’s dominion.
This was what the shore was: the sea always pressing, the land unwilling to yield even a millimeter.
Richard shivered in the cold wind.
Fate had brought him to the very edge of the world, where death and defeat would finally contend with glory and honor.
Perhaps it had not been the cold that had made him shiver.
“You know Cote from before, quiaff?” said the woman standing beside him.
Richard turned to look at Star Colonel Estelle, commanding officer of Tau Galaxy’s 18th Provisional Garrison Cluster. She was a lovely woman, small and thin-boned, her jet-black hair cut short, her eyes pale green. She reminded him of a songbird, delicate and ornate.
Of course Estelle knew that Richard had served in the Third Bear Striker under Cote, everyone knew he had served under Cote. What she was really asking was how well he knew François Cote. What she was really asking was whether Cote would give Richard some unfair advantage because of their past association. The Trial of Possession would not begin for days.
But the battle had already begun.
He remembered the last time he had seen Cote, all those years ago, right after the asteroid hit.
He could still hear the man’s contempt ringing in his ears.
“Galaxy Commander Cote harbors no particular fondness for me,” Richard said. “But do not worry, Star Colonel. I am sure he will not give you any advantage that would taint the honor of a victory by your cluster.”
Her face grew pinched as she tried to sort through the tangle of words he had thrown at her. He had little doubt she was a perfectly competent battlefield commander. But he also understood why she had been relegated to garrison duty.
It was obvious that she was not especially smart.
“You think you will defeat my cluster?” she finally said.
Richard sighed. “We shall see.”
She scowled at him, revealing a series of fine little lines at the corners of her mouth. He noticed a strand of gray in her glossy, black hair. She was younger than him, but still not young; a member of that unfortunate generation that was too early to serve in Operation Revival, but too late to fight in the Jihad. Estelle might very well have seen glorious combat if the Clan invasion of the Inner Sphere had been allowed to go on to its logical conclusion, but the invasion had been stopped by ComStar, here on this very world.
Of course, many things might have been different if Operation Revival had not been interrupted.
As it was, Estelle was on the ragged edge of being designated solahma, the word for a Clan warrior who had outlived his or her usefulness. Richard knew all about solahma. The same cruel beast stalked him.
And that was what this was all about—a chance at redemption and hope.
For one of them.
Estelle suddenly straightened, the anger instantly smoothed from her face.
Richard heard the growl of an engine behind him and turned. He watched a jeep glide across the two lanes of ferrocrete separating the apron of grass hugging the shore line from the dark, tangled forest behind them. Richard recognized the driver at once.
Galaxy Commander François Cote.
Cote pulled off the road, parking his vehicle next to the other two jeeps. He climbed out and strode towards them. In some ways, he was the same Cote Richard remembered from all those years ago: tall and massive, imposing. But a long, white line of scar tissue marked the bronze skin of his smooth skull. And his left hand was still mottled and bent, damaged in a way that would never fully heal.
Richard saw the cruel marks left on Cote’s body by the fire and flexed his own hand, fighting to close it into a fist. Richard had heard that Cote had forgone the replacement of his damaged hand because he was an older warrior who deemed the long cloning process as intrusive and unnecessary. Not so with Richard. He had been denied the opportunity to have his hand repaired. There had not been the opportunity before Tukayyid, and after¼
Well.
Richard squeezed his hand closed, careful to keep the agony off his face. He snapped out a perfect salute, his hand board straight as he touched it to his brow.
To his right, Estelle had also come to attention and saluted.
Cote returned the salutes and then reached forward to shake Richard’s hand. “Welcome to Tau Galaxy, Star Colonel Bekker.” Cote’s hand crushed Richard’s. It was a test—to see if Richard could return the bone-crushing grip. Richard could not. Not with his damaged right hand.
“Thank you, Galaxy Commander,” said Richard mildly. If he could not match Cote’s strength, the least he could do was keep from showing any sign of the throbbing pain burning through his flesh.
Cote stared into Richard’s eyes for a moment before finally letting go.
Out of the corner of his eye, Richard saw Estelle curiously watching both men.
Richard resisted the urge to massage his throbbing right hand with his left. Instead, he dropped both hands to his sides.
Cote turned to look out at the sea. “I assume the two of you have deduced why I have asked the 18th Garrison Cluster to come to Tukayyid,” he said.
“You wish to stage a Trial of Possession,” said Estelle. “Between the 18th Garrison Cluster and the 37th, quiaff?”
“Aff,” said Cote, “but possession of what?”
Estelle opened her mouth, and then closed it again. Word had leaked out that Cote meant to pit the two clusters against each other, but the rumors did not include the contest’s goal.
Cote turned and stared at her for a long moment. The man Richard remembered did not suffer fools easily. It looked like that, at least, had not changed.
After a moment, Estelle offered her commander a helpless little shrug.
Cote turned to look at Richard.
“Jihad,” Richard said at once.
Cote raised an eyebrow, inviting him to explain.
Richard drew a deep breath. “The Inner Sphere is tearing itself apart. The fall of the new Star League. Nuclear and chemical strikes against national capitals. Weaponized plagues sweeping across worlds. Half the great houses fighting the other half.” He shook his head. “So far our Clan has largely focused on consolidating our position in the Dominion. But there may come a time when such a patient strategy is inadvisable. On that day, our frontline galaxies may not be sufficient. The Khan may need to call on our garrison forces.”
Cote nodded. “That is correct.”
It was as much of a compliment as Richard could expect to pry out of his new Galaxy Commander. It was enough for him to earn a dirty look from Estelle.
“I have arranged for two of Tau’s three clusters to train with frontline units,” said Cote. “Those two clusters will receive upgraded maintenance support, the more promising MechWarriors, even newer BattleMechs when I can arrange it. Most importantly, those two clusters will have an opportunity for—”
“Glory,” Estelle whispered.
Cote nodded. “Aff.”
Estelle shook her head. “But I do not understand, sir. If the threat is so great, why not upgrade all three clusters?”
“Because someone still needs to defend the Dominion,” said Richard.
“Just so,” said Cote, flashing Richard a penetrating look. He turned back to Estelle. “The 9th Garrison Cluster has already won my confidence, so this Trial will determine who shall possess the second spot.”
Estelle drew herself up to her full height. “As the senior unit, the 18th claims this honor for itself.”
“The 37th challenges.” Richard turned to Estelle. “With what will you defend?”
“I will defend my claim with my entire cluster,” said Estelle.
And that was the danger for Richard. In theory his force was the equal of Estelle’s, but he had only relieved Star Colonel Jebediah a couple weeks before. He barely knew his people. And they were green troops, whereas Estelle’s had been blooded during the Combine war. Richard opened his mouth to object, but Cote beat him to the punch.
“Neg,” Cote snapped. “I will not savage two clusters on the eve of war. You may defend with a star. No more.”
An expression of irritation flashed across Estelle’s face, but s
It was a clever bid. In conflicts between BattleMechs, tonnage was often a pretty good proxy for power. Estelle’s seventy-ton Summoner gave up thirty tons to Richard’s Kodiak. Adding the two light ’Mechs got her up to 115 tons. Richard did not have a light machine any smaller than twenty tons, so he could not reasonably add a light machine to his own bid.
He could either choose to pilot a lighter, less powerful machine that he was not familiar with and still deal with the issue of commanding two other pilots that he did not know well or he could stick with his Kodiak and give up fifteen tons to Estelle. No doubt she planned to batter him with the maneuverable light machines, sending them dashing in to punch holes in his armor until she could finish him off with her Summoner.
Either way, her bid put him in a very bad position.
Richard smiled. “I will attack with my Kodiak alone,” he said.
A look of triumph flashed across Estelle’s pretty face.
“If you will allow me to choose the time and ground of the battle.”
Estelle frowned. “What did you have in mind?”
Richard shrugged. “I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Star Colonel. I am new to this posting and I have not had time to refamiliarize myself with the planet. But if you agree, I will notify you of the location before the end of the day, so that you will have adequate time to prepare.”
“I will agree to nothing until I know exactly where you intend to fight,” Estelle snapped.
Cote looked from Estelle to Richard.
Richard puffed out a frustrated breath. “Very well. How about here? I will have my people place a beacon at this exact location. Combat will be restricted to the area within a twenty-kilometer radius of the beacon. Will that be suitable?”
Estelle turned and studied the thick woods on the inland side of the road.
Richard could almost read her mind.
She was thinking that this was not just a forest, but a rainforest. The coast saw 179 centimeters of annual rainfall (though the past two months of local summer had been exceptionally dry.) Except for a patch of trees that had been consumed by a fierce wildfire, the forest was thick and overgrown. Just the kind of ground that would reduce the mobility advantage of her two light machines.
Reduce it, but not eliminate it.
She could use her light machines to sweep the forest and pin him in place. Once she knew where he was she would come for him in her Summoner. And then the forest’s close quarters would be her advantage, as he would be unable to easily maneuver or fall back.
“Bargained well and done,” she said. Then Estelle turned to Cote. “If you will excuse me, Galaxy Commander, I have a Trial to prepare for.”
“You are dismissed, Star Colonel,” he said. Cote glanced at Richard, who was also turning to leave, and said, “Star Colonel Bekker, a word.”
Richard stopped and turned back to face his Galaxy Commander.
But not before he saw Estelle throw him a sidelong glance.
Cote stepped over to stand beside Richard. Both men watched Star Colonel Estelle climb into her jeep and drive south towards her DropShip.
When she was gone, Cote said, “A shrewd negotiation.”
Richard did not take his eyes off Estelle’s vehicle. “Thank you, Galaxy Commander.”
“I wonder if Estelle will recognize the danger?”
Richard shrugged.
Cote turned to face him. “You knew why I had called you here, knew it at once.”
Richard nodded. “It was not hard to discern.”
“It was for Estelle.” Cote stared at him for a long moment, those dark eyes marking his face. “You are too modest. You see far, you always have. You were a ristar. You won your Bloodname early, a hero of the invasion. You even earned a few lines in the Remembrance. You should have been a Galaxy Commander, Richard Bekker. You should have been a khan.”
“Except for the Battle of Luk,” said Richard, knowing that there was no way to avoid this discussion.
“Except for your disgrace at Luk,” agreed Cote.
Richard stiffened at the mention of disgrace, but then François Cote had never been once to mince words.
“How is your hand?” asked Cote, gesturing at Richard’s right arm. “Can you still pilot a ’Mech?”
Richard hesitated, and then lifted the claw that was his right hand and cradled it in his left palm. “The pain is a burden, Galaxy Commander.” He closed the hand into a fist and then straightened it out. “But it still responds when called to duty.”
Cote nodded slowly, considering.
Richard drew a deep breath. “Sir, I…I wish you to know that I did not request to be transferred to Tau Galaxy.”
“You were happy to remain in Sigma Galaxy?”
Richard hesitated. “Not happy…But I was accustomed to Sigma Galaxy.”
A look of contempt flashed across Cote’s face.
Anger flared in Richard. “It was not by my action that you were burdened with a crippled disgrace,” he snarled.
For a moment, Cote’s face was a mask empty of emotion. And then he actually chuckled.
Richard blinked. It was the very last reaction he expected.
“It is good to see that you have not figured everything out, Star Colonel,” Cote said.
Richard opened his mouth and then closed it. “I do not—”
Cote silenced him with a raised hand. “Consider that there are two kinds of warriors posted to a garrison galaxy.”
“The young and the old,” said Richard.
Cote nodded. “Hope fills the hearts of the young. Once they are blooded, they will be transferred to frontline units where their destiny awaits. But the old, ah, the old are a different story. They are warriors who never had the skills and strength to win glory.”
“Estelle,” said Richard.
“Estelle,” agreed Cote. “She has nothing left to her but the bitter memory of a wasted life.”
“And the promise of solahma,” said Richard.
Cote nodded. “But you, Richard Bekker, you are something different. You were once a ristar. I was not burdened with you. I asked for you. I stole you away from Galaxy Commander Alexandr Jorgensson because he was too much of a fool to realize what he had. I assigned you to the 37th Garrison Cluster because it is filled with young warriors untainted by the bitterness that runs through the 18th. I want you to take this Cluster and make of it something great. I want you to take this Cluster and help your Clan stand against the darkness that is sweeping down upon the Inner Sphere.”
Richard’s breath caught. A single word echoed through his head.
Redemption.
He had long believed that the universe had passed him by. What a surprise to find at this advanced date that he could suddenly hear the distant cry of the horn calling him to battle. To glory.
A lesser man would have accepted this bright vision at face value, but something uncomfortable tickled at the back of Richard’s mind, a streak of black threading its way through the golden glow.
“If I may ask, Galaxy Commander? If you have such faith in my abilities, why force me to endure a Trial? Why not simply assign the second slot to the 37th Cluster?”
Cote’s already hard face turned to stone. “Because,” said the Galaxy Commander, his voice arctic, “you have a disturbing history of losing contests that you are supposed to win.”
Richard felt as if he had been struck in the gut. All the air went out of him.
Suddenly he was back on the Sharp Claw, tumbling past an arc of chalk. Back in Luk, his Trinary creeping through Holth forest.
“Do not fail again, Richard Bekker,” said Cote, and the Galaxy Commander’s voice was low and hard. “There will be no more chances.”
And then François Cote turned and stalked off.
Right then a cold, wet wind rose up off the sea and swirled around Richard, and this time it was heavy with the stink of dead and rotting things.
CHAPTER TWO
Union-C-Class DropShip CGBS Great Boar
On the Shore of the Crucible Sea
Tukayyid, Ghost Bear Dominion
16 June 3073
The steel grating of the Union’s broad ramp clanked beneath Richard’s steel-toed boots as he walked down into the chill night air. He had instructed the Great Boar’s captain to secure all external lighting, leaving the LZ shrouded in darkness. Estelle knew where his vessel was, of course.
