Dark Age - Patriot's Stand Part 29

"Then let me talk to her or one of these noisy brats is gonna find out what kind of a lullaby aJupiter 's clamps sing."

"Yes, sir," Danny said.

The Lone Cat applied pressure, and Danny leaned his 'Mech MOD to the right, unmasking Benjork's Dragon's Fire Gauss rifle.

The slug made even the hundred-tonAtlas sway as it slammed down the magnetic rails. What it did to theJupiter made even Benjork blanch. The Gauss bullet blasted into the BattleMech, ripping off the c.o.c.kpit and splattering its superheated wreckage around the hole the slug drilled in the canyon wall. So fast was the destruction that the threatening fist had no time to flinch, much less mash the pickup beneath it.

For a long moment, theJupiter just stood there.

Then the pickup driver dared to crane his head out the open window. He took in the smoldering hole that had been the c.o.c.kpit above him and slammed the door open. Holding the toddler, he yanked his wife and daughter free. Hand in hand, they ran.

"You did that perfectly, my wild Highland friend," Benjork told Danny as they paced off the distance to his target. "You kept him occupied while I took aim."

"Didn't see my thirty-millimeter slugs doing much good. Would've just sent ricochets and fragments all over the place," Danny said.

"Right, Danny. I had the only weapon good against theJupiter . When I was ready, you unmasked it.

We are a good team-Lone Cat and Kilted warrior." The two shared a laugh, then examined the wreckage. Most of the huge machine showed only the minor damage of its flight, but the c.o.c.kpit would need complete replacement. Small fires were dying down in the s.p.a.ce that had once held a man, controls and armor. Mick and Sven would probably have it working again in a month.

"Well, that was fun," Danny half laughed. "Think there are any more like that around?"

"Let's go see."

They circled back toward the Guild Hall. The walk was informative. Here and there, a burned-out 'Mech MOD or overturned gun truck showed where Black and Reds had been cornered. Other 'Mechs were abandoned and uniforms shed. More often than not, less than a block beyond such efforts to abandon the past, a body lay pummeled and pulped. "The streets may seem empty, but the walls have eyes, and have seen much that demands vengeance."

Danny snorted at Benjork's wisdom. "If you ask me, those d.a.m.n Black and Reds aren't getting anything they don't deserve."

Benjork had seen no signs of Grace during the chase, and a glance around the Guild Hall's plaza told him why. Except for the burned-outRyoken II , all evidence of the occupation was gone. Now people stood in small clumps, pointing and gesturing as they rehashed the events of the day. Danny popped the c.o.c.kpit and climbed down, shaking his head. "Not talk-talk stuff again."

Benjork joined him on the ground. "Remember, my hotheaded Highlander, this is what we fought for."

Then the Lone Cat took a long look around and finished with, "You'll have to remind me why." They shared a laugh and went looking for Grace.

Grace cleaned up the plaza quickly. One fallen Black and Red 'Mech MOD driver, intent on resisting to the end but not knowing what he was doing, fired both of his shoulder-mounted SRMs into the pavement beneath him. That didn't leave a lot of that 'Mech to clean up, or a lot of fight in the others. Hanson's infantry, with a bit of guidance from Betsy and a few choice words from the Sergeant Major, cleaned up the bent 'Mechs and smashed trucks. Those that could be walked or driven away were. Commercial wreckers handled the rest.

Then Grace discovered the true evil of Santorini.

He had created a special atrocity just for her: All the mayors had been summoned to Allabad for his grand performance, and now they wanted to reestablish the council. They had come full circle, back to the very point she had argued so eloquently five months ago.

Grace wanted to run. Jobe suggested that 'Mechs be used to chase the mayors out of town. Chato checked inside the Guild Hall and declared it ready, though in need of redecorating. A large throne dominated the hall. Jobe and several others grabbed axes and hacked at the throne until others demanded a turn. It became great entertainment. Chato found where the tables were stored and got others to set them up in one large square. No head, no foot, just one large square table. "I would make it round if I could but-" He shrugged softly.

"So what do we do now?" Grace asked.

"Govern ourselves, I suppose," Chato said.

People slowly filled the great room. Different people this time; younger, older, unfamiliar faces-almost none that Grace recalled from earlier meetings. Many of the mayors Grace had met with during the war were also absent, their bodies maybe still dangling from a signpost or streetlamp. The meaning of eminence, the price of leadership had changed under the pressure of blood and fire.

Just as Ben and Danny walked into the hall, the young woman from Kilkenny who'd succeeded Gordon Frazier as mayor handed Grace the gavel. "Shouldn't we get started?" she said.

Grace hammered the meeting to order, her mind awhirl as she hunted for what to say. The room fell silent as stragglers found chairs. It was the silence that spoke to Grace.

"People have died to give us the privilege of sitting at this table. Let us pause for a minute to remember those who welcomed a gory bed rather than accept chains and slavery."

Grace had never heard the Guild Hall so quiet. The minute stretched far beyond sixty seconds. Here and there a choked sob or softly called name broke the silence as loved ones were remembered by those who had paid in full for their right to rule themselves.

Beside her, Chato uttered an "Amen" that made its way like a wave around the room. That left Grace still searching to pluck a first order of business from a mind so full yet so empty that she could think of nothing to say.

Beside her, Chato's eyes slowly swept the room. "Months ago I rose from among you to place in nomination the name of Grace O'Malley for Governor of Alkalurops until such time as The Republic may affirm or change that appointment. I do so again."

Heads nodded as Jobe got to his feet. "I think I was the one who nominated her, Chato, but I will stand as second for your motion. Are there any other names to put forward?"

The hall remained silent, and it dawned on Grace that if she didn't do something, she would end up Governor. She turned to the Navajo. "Chato, a moment ago you said it was time for us to get back to governing ourselves. Now you stand to nominate a Governor that Terra may or may not accept."

Under her gaze, he sat. She turned to the a.s.sembled. "Look at what we have done. Look at what we did without Knights, without any help from Terra, without any help from The Republic.

"Alkalurops takes care of itself. Our grandparents said it before us, and we just showed what we can do. I thank Ben and Danny and all the MechWarriors who helped us, but in the end, it was us. Us using our brains, our hands, our guts and our blood."

Slowly, in silence, she looked at every citizen seated at the table, taking her own poll. Heads nodded, some softly, others with pure enthusiasm. No one stood up in the silence to argue with her.

"The Republic of the Sphere didn't help us when we needed it. I'll be d.a.m.ned if I'm going to see our militia drafted into their regiments and shipped off to help this faction or that pull their nuts out of the fire.

Alkalurops takes care of its own-and only its own." Now people were on their feet, clapping, cheering, stomping, yelling. A wilder demonstration of support Grace had never seen. She let it run, even as she let the tears run down her cheeks. Chato hugged her, then Jobe joined in. Danny rushed up and gathered all of them in one huge embrace.

Even Ben, the reserved former Nova Cat, came to rest a hand on Grace's shoulder. Into her ear he whispered, "For years my dream led me away from everything I knew, but never did it show me my destination. When I first saw you, something told me I might finally know what that was. Now I see that your dream and mine are the same. I hope there is room alongside you for this dangerous Cat."

"You've never been a danger to me or mine," Grace a.s.sured him.

Grace let the roar for Alkalurops run long, then gaveled the room to silence. "All for Alkalurops standing alone, ruled by its traditional a.s.sembly, raise your hands."

Hands shot up around the table, joined by a roar of "Aye!"

A long minute later Grace again gaveled for calm. "That looks pretty unanimous, but I'll ask. Any nays?"

A single hand rose. Grace recognized the gray head that had first supported her in that long-ago a.s.sembly. So she had survived it all.

"I'm sorry, Grace," the woman said into the quiet hall. "I simply can't let you get elected unanimously.

Might give you a swelled head."

"I will remember that," Grace said, thinking the matter settled, but the old lady stood.

"One question, Grace. Are we in rebellion against The Republic of the Sphere? If they come, do we fight them the way we should have fought Santorini?"

"Good question," came from several places around the table.

"No," Grace quickly answered. "St. Mary and St. Patrick know there's enough blood being shed around human s.p.a.ce. I am not raising a flag of rebellion. What Iam raising is Alkalurops' ancient flag.

When The Republic comes, we'll talk to them. We'll negotiate with them. But we don't take orders.

Alkalurops takes care of itself, and The Republic had better be able to show how it can help us do a better job of that. Unless they can, thank you very much, but they can ride back out on the DropShip they rode in on."

That got another round of cheers.

Grace only had to make a few raps with the gavel to get silence the next time. "But taking care of ourselves means we'll need to defend ourselves. For that, we need more full-time troops than Lieutenant Hicks and the other gallant members of our Constabulary. Our militia will also need a commander. For that position, I offer you a man who has fought at my side with no questions, no qualms and never a lack of courage. I give you Benjork Lone Cat."

Grace did not even try to gavel the room to silence for a long five minutes. Ben called all of the surviving Mech Warriors forward. Old Sven and George Stillwell accepted the crowd's thanks with a nod and a wave. Betsy gave Ben a kiss, and Victoria even suffered Danny to put an arm around her shoulder. Syn sashayed forward. Sadly for Grace, she showed no ill effects from her ride in the victory parade draped over the hood of a truck.

But saddest of all was that Sean could not be resurrected to celebrate what he and so many others had died for.

Grace gave Ben a hug, ignoring the dampness around his eyes that some might mistake for tears. She knew that one raised in the stern discipline of the Nova Cats would never let himself be ruled by emotions.

When Ben waved the room to silence, the people around the table complied. "As a young man, I was given a dream of Clan and Sphere coming together. Not just to share s.p.a.ce, but to break down the walls that we let separate each of us. You do not need to know the Clans very well to know that such a dream is anathema for many. I took the name Lone Cat when I finally walked away from my Clan. I am a Lone Cat no more. You are my people. Together we need fear no stranger."

Once more the room erupted. Grace knew there was work to do. She'd examined the files Betsy had taken from Santorini's computer-as much as time had allowed. He'd gotten help in his crime from off-planet but also from on-planet. Grace needed to have a long talk with the Industrial Trade Group.

Some of their management were definitely out of step with Alkalurops taking care of Alkalurops.

When quiet finally came, Grace sighed. "There's work to be done. I need seven mayors to volunteer to work with the militia. They'll need to be from towns with big service and repair shops. Maybe some iron mines and carbon fabrication shops, too."

And they got down to the business of running a planet.

Two days later Grace sat at a table in the s.p.a.ceport bar. Thick armored windows showed acres of concrete leading to the DropShip landing pads above the blast pits. A metal bulge showed where the Roughriders' DropShip was making final preparations for launch. At her table sat Ben and Danny, there to see Betsy and Syn off.

The sound of military footsteps brought Grace away from the goings-on out on the field. Loren Hanson came through the bar door, saw her, gave her an informal salute, and marched for their table. "Mind if I join you?" met with no objections, and he settled comfortably in place.

"You've been hard to find," Grace said.

"I've been busy loading out a battalion and drafting a report that is bound to be hard reading. The Colonel won't be happy, but the files clearly show Santorini was out to kill us all. That dinner invite at the parade! I just hope his bond holds up better than his word or this entire operation is way in the red."

"You'll excuse me if I'm not too sympathetic," Grace said.

"I fully understand. It's my own fault for not wrangling a contract to help you when I had the chance."

That brought a laugh from the table. "There is one thing. We've gotten back our captives. Private G.o.dfrey sends his compliments. You know: the sergeant who had that push-up contest with one of your men."

"He's a private now?"

"And for a significant while, I suspect. I've got about a hundred recruits who'd like to sign on. Does this planet have any objections to us removing recruits from here at this time?"

Grace turned to Ben. He shook his head.

"I'll wish them well," Grace said, "even if, after one ride with your topkick, I think them foolish."

"To each his own poison," Ben said.

Hanson smiled and seemed in no hurry to leave. He started to talk twice, but thought better of it, then finally opened his mouth. "There are two blanks in my report. Betsy, maybe you can help me with both of them. Who was Santorini working for?"

"Everyone and no one," Betsy said easily. "If I were Lenzo Computing, I'd take a good hard look at my recruiting practices. They can't afford too many b.u.m hires like Santorini. Word is that they really are in the market for a new headquarters, and he was a.s.signed to their search. As to how much Landgrave Jasek and the Stormhammers were using him or he was using them, I don't think Jasek knew. House Steiner is an even vaguer question," she said with a shrug.

"By the time we killed Santorini, I think he was freelancing something awful. What he said was probably what he thought he was going to do." Betsy rolled eyes. "As to what he'd have done if he'd lived, I say nothing."

"You'll say nothing to whom?" Hanson shot across the table. "Who areyou reporting to?"

Betsy laughed-a lovely sound with tinkling bells in it. "I was just your maid. And a nice guest you were-not like some. But they're dead and I'm alive, so I'm ahead on points."

"Let me see," said Danny. "Jasek is in revolt against both The Republic and his pappy on Skye. He's come out for House Steiner. Now, who wouldn't want a Steiner base this deep in The Republic?

Certainly House Davion and MI6 would be interested. Interested enough to send a Rabid Fox to sniff around?" he asked, innocently as a babe.

"If I were one of those foxy types, I'd have to kill all of you for blowing my cover, but I could also be a Ghost Knight for The Republic, concerned about this fine planet of yours. But most likely I'm a poor girl that's p.i.s.sed off too many bosses and spends too much of her life looking for her next job," Betsy said as she stood and curtsied.

"Are you as confused I am?" Grace said.

"Nothing she said was intended to inform," Ben agreed.

"Look at it this way," Betsy said, signaling Syn to abandon her drink. "If you let this line of talk die a natural death, you can go about your business. I can go about mine. And someday, when you least expect it, you may find me at your elbow offering a helping hand."

"Not an offer I'd pa.s.s up," Hanson said, "and speaking of pa.s.sing, it's time for me to board."

"I'll follow you out," Betsy said. Steel blinds clanged shut over the bar's windows, signaling the arrival or departure of a DropShip. Syn left with L. J. and Betsy.

"So that's that?" Grace said, standing.

"Thatis not to be denigrated," Ben said. "We won our battle. This land is free. And we have an IOU from a woman of mystery. Not bad for a month's work."

"No," Grace said, "not bad."

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fict.i.tiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Patriot's Stand

ARoc Book / published by arrangement with the author

All rights reserved.

Copyright 2004 byWizKids, LLC.

This book may not be reproduced in whole or part, by mimeograph or any other means, without permission. Making or distributing electronic copies of this book const.i.tutes copyright infringement and could subject the infringer to criminal and civil liability.