DROPSHIP FUJINAMI
NEW EXETER SPACEPORT
EMPORIA
FEDERATED SUNS
8 APRIL 3150
0059 HOURS
“I understand what each one of you has reported. I am listening.” Tai-sa Yoshizawa kept his face serious and professional. He had to balance the needs of his council and the lie he’d told them against the secrets of his true plan. “As such, I believe my generosity has been abused. I cannot allow this and must, despite my wish that this be a peaceful colonization, make an example of the Vogels, exposing their lies.”
He was tired. It was too late to have this conversation, but it was better to face the council and their discontent head on. He’d called for the meeting as soon as the invitation had come. It had surprised the courier as well as the council. Thrown them off their stride and their plans. But, as much as he respected his advisers, he was the one in charge, and they needed a reminder of that.
They’d already been in session for over two hours and received refreshments as they worked. Yoshizawa had insisted on full reports from each council member, listening to and questioning each item he thought he needed more information on. He gave them his full attention. Now that this courtesy, this formality, was done, it was time to show them all why he was the tai-sa of the Seventh Ghost Regiment.
“As such, they will be executed tomorrow at our convenience. There will be no great show of respect or ceremony. They will be executed by the sword and the execution recorded. Later in the day, it will be shown worldwide in an emergency broadcast.” He looked at Nagaaki.
The sho-sa gave a curt nod. “We have the studio prepared for another such broadcast.”
Yoshizawa glanced at Joji. “Craft an accompanying missive to run under it, stating that the Vogels were imposters, and it would be appreciated if Count Ritza, his wife, and his son would join us at the spaceport.”
Joji added it to his list of things to do.
“If I may…?” Nagaaki waited for the nod to continue.
He did not receive it. Yoshizawa focused on his head of intelligence. “I am concerned, Sho-sa Ukita, that your original intel probe into this planet didn’t discover—”
The distant sound of explosions interrupted Yoshizawa’s planned shredding of Nagaaki’s failure. The DropShip shuddered. Everyone in the council room stood as one and listened, prepared for anything.
Explosions were a funny thing in war. You couldn’t tell from the sound how close or far they were from you. An explosion from one type of missile a kilometer away sounded like a smaller explosion only a hundred meters away. It wasn’t until the shockwave hit that you could tell what the explosion’s distance was. This was how experienced combat soldiers could tell who was green. Green soldiers always thought the explosion was closer—or farther away—than it was. Veterans waited for hard intel before they made proclamations.
In this case, the sound and the DropShip’s shudder told everyone the explosion was nearby. As such, when Sho-i Matsura, the DropShip’s communications officer pounded on the door and opened it without waiting for permission, he almost ended up a dead man. Only the experience of the Seventh Ghost Regiment’s leaders and their reflexes kept them from killing the man on the spot.
Sho-i Matsura dropped into a deep bow, speaking in a fast, concerned voice. “My apologies, I could not contact you from the bridge. The enemy has interrupted our communications. We cannot get signals in or out.”
“Who is attacking?” Fume asked.
“Emporia forces. Eyewitnesses say the ’Mechs have an unknown sigil. It’s a gold shield on a blue background with antler horns and a red sash.”
Nagaaki tilted his head. “The Ritza Academy? We’re being attacked by cadets?”
“I don’t know. I know there’s at least a lance of ’Mechs and other infantry. There’s explosions and smoke everywhere.” Sho-i Matsura straightened. “We can’t communicate with any of our forces.”
Yoshizawa stilled as his mind went black with rage. He heard nothing of what the ensign or the rest of his council said for the next few seconds. Cadets? Cadets would dare attack the Seventh Ghost Regiment? Again? I swear upon my name, this will not be another Sakhara V. He bared his teeth in a snarl of hate like a beast and forced the top edge of his fury away from the surface. He didn’t look at anyone. “Anything else pertinent, Sho-i?”
“No, Tai-sa.”
“Dismissed.” Yoshizawa ignored the man’s bow and departure as he chased furious thoughts around in his mind, already moving toward the door.
Fume moved with him.
“I assume our ’Mech forces are fighting back?” He kept his voice as smooth as possible.
Fume shook her head. “No, Tai-sa. Per your orders, they are all out in the field, providing backup in the search for the count, his family, and the other hidden nobles. They’re also controlling the other spaceports, making sure only merchant DropShips come and go.”
While her voice was calm, its tone reminded him that she’d objected to sending all of the lances away from the spaceport. Yoshizawa bit back a curse. “Do we have any ’Mechs here?”
“Your personal lance.”
It felt as if destiny was on his side. If cadets were attacking, it was his duty to redeem the Seventh’s honor for what happened on Sakhara V. He nodded. “Then I and my lance will deal with this.”
Joji, walking behind them, added, “There’s a squad of Kishi commandos on site. They’ll keep the ’Mechs occupied while your lance powers up.”
The ’Mechs weren’t powered up. Of course they weren’t. That was minutes they didn’t have. The gods wanted to make sure he paid everything for this fight. Yoshizawa grimaced. He couldn’t even call down to the bay to order someone to begin the power-up sequence. “Going forward, we’ll have at least one lance on site always at the ready. When the communications interdiction is solved, call two lances of ’Mechs back to the spaceport for patrols.” Yes, he thought, I’ve been far too generous.
Joji turned off and broke into a run.
Fume matched Yoshizawa pace for pace. “I will join you in the Wolverine. Shujin Nagano will understand.” They both headed toward the locker room where their cooling vests waited.
“As you wish.” She was one of his best, and he wasn’t going to hamstring himself. “I want reports. What’s the enemy infantry doing?”
Fume grabbed the nearest soldier, a gunsho by the markings on her shoulder, and spoke quietly. The woman’s surprised face went sober, then somber and frightened. She bowed and took off running.
The gunsho found them in the locker room. She had brought Shujin Nagano with her, one of the most promising members of the tai-sa’s personal lance. The gunsho bowed again and stepped back to the locker room doorway to be available, but not part of the conversation.
Fume nodded to the MechWarrior whose ’Mech she was taking. “Taka, report. Everything you know.”
“At least one lance of ’Mechs. I saw an Ostsol and a Griffin and other movement, but the Ostsol’s ECM has us at a disadvantage. I’ve had runners say there’s infantry in the west part of the spaceport. Goal unknown, but if it were me, I’d be trying to rescue my people.” The man paused and thought. “There’s enough explosions and damage that I suspect the attacking force also hopes to cripple the spaceport’s effectiveness.”
As Yoshizawa and Fume stripped to their MechWarrior shorts and shirts—both of them wore the MechWarrior uniform under their clothing from long habit of never knowing when they’d have to fight—Taka stopped speaking, his eyes locked to the now-exposed ugly bruises on Yoshizawa’s neck and chest.
Fume glanced between the two men, did a double-take, then stepped to Taka. She invaded his space, her small stature growing into something huge in her anger. “Do you want to say something, Shujin Nagano? Do you see something strange?”
His eyes widened, suddenly frightened. Taka shook his head. “No, Chu-sa Aoki. I see nothing unusual.” He kept his gaze on her face as Yoshizawa closed the cooling vest, cinching the sides and forming it to his body. “I meant to tell you I sent a couple of go-cho to begin the power-up sequences for the lance. I thought it would save some time.”
Her brief but genuine smile lessened the fear in his eyes. “That was smart thinking.” She stepped back and glanced at the gunsho at the locker room door. The woman stood at attention, looking straight ahead and nowhere else.
Taka did not look at Yoshizawa again until after the tai-sa had wrapped a sweat towel around his neck, hiding the bruises. “Do you need me for anything else?”
Fume shook her head, then looked to her tai-sa.
Yoshizawa considered for a moment. “Get a squad of infantry to the admin building, where Baron Vogel is. There should be guards there, but make sure the Emporians fail in their rescue attempt. Kill the baron if you have to. I’d like to execute him tomorrow, but tonight’s good enough. Don’t let them have his body.” He nodded his dismissal.
“Yes, Tai-sa Yoshizawa!” Taka bowed and took off at a run.
The gunsho glanced at Yoshizawa and Fume, then returned to staring straight ahead. She followed the pair at a respectful distance, available if needed.
The two of them walked down the hallway at a good clip. Fume said nothing about the bruises. She had the respect and decorum not to ask. Thus, he felt the need to explain. “Baron Vogel attempted to kill me. He failed, as you see.”
“It is a wonder he got so close to make such a good show of it.” Disapproval laced her words.
“I was too generous with my time and space. They abused that. They will pay with their lives. Baroness Blanc already did.”
“Ah, so that’s what happened to her. I saw her name removed from the testing roster. I was going to ask, as none of my people knew why she died.”
The two of them walked with their heads high and their confidence showing. They were both on display and knew it. The Seventh Ghost Regiment was watching. As long as their leaders were calm, they could be calm. This was just another day at war.
The two of them walked into the Fujinami’s ’Mech bay. It was open to the rest of the spaceport in anticipation of the fight. Yoshizawa noted the ’Mechs with pride. His personal lance was built this way for a particular reason.
The Venom had four medium pulse lasers, two in each side torso, but that was not its strength. The recon ’Mech was the most mobile light ’Mech in the Seventh’s roster. It could run, strike, and hide before a larger ’Mech could get a lock on it. The Venom helped him see the whole battlefield and was quick enough not to get hit.
The medium-sized Wolverine was the lance’s workhorse. It was mobile, powerful, and had enough lasers to not rely on its SRM 6. A jack-of-all-trades, this solid and steady ’Mech was designed to take a hit while giving better than it got. He was unsurprised that, of the available ’Mechs, Fume chose to pilot this one.
The medium-sized Quasimodo was the frontline urban brawler. It’s Blue Shield Particle Field Damper allowed it to protect the front line while it pounded the enemy with its medium variable-speed pulse lasers, ER medium lasers, and ER small laser. The Quasimodo would keep the enemy occupied while the rest of the lance moved into position.
Then there was his assault ’Mech, the HTM-30S Hatamoto-Suna. Its Gauss rifle was devastating at long ranges, though difficult to aim at short range. A single shot could take out a light ’Mech. The medium-range missile launchers were the powerhouse of the ’Mech, firing eighteen volleys of MRM 20s. Some considered the Hatamoto-Suna a step backwards, technologically, but Yoshizawa saw it as a more efficient ’Mech with less time in a ’Mech bay and more time in the field. It was also the ’Mech that had allowed him to fight his way up through the ranks of the Seventh to get to where he was now.
And it was the ’Mech that would let him destroy the upstarts who thought they could defeat the Seventh Ghost Regiment.