Marcos turned and grinned confidently. He offered a bid that removed three of the dagger stars, replacing them with three small, five-pointed, blue-white stars and three green, four-pointed dagger-stars trimmed in silver. The ilKhan saluted that bid, and Marcos stared at his opposition.
Lara's return bid swept away three of the dagger-stars, but put nothing up in their place. Marcos looked stricken, and the blood drained from the ilKhan's face. Ulric nodded a silent salute to Lara, and the Precentor Martial matched the gesture.
"No!" Ranna looked down at the device on her belt as the red light died. Anger and frustration warring for control of her face, she slumped down on the couch beneath the window. "Why bid mystar away?"
Phelan folded a leg beneath himself and sat beside her. "What's the matter? Can't you explain any of this to me?"
She turned to him, staring angrily as though she didn't recognize him. Then her mood softened to take him in again. "Lara and Marcos were bidding to see who could take the world with the least amount of equipment and personnel. Each of the red dagger-stars represents a Star of 'Mechs. The small blue-white stars represent a Star of Aero-Space Fighters, and the green dagger-stars are Elementals. Marcos's bid substituting three Aerostars and three Elemental stars for three 'Mech stars surrendered him no power. Lara realized Marcos had hit the low end of his confidence, so she dropped herself down to nine 'Mech stars. It gives her room to maneuver if she runs into trouble on the planet, and will be a great victory if she does not."
Phelan frowned. "What do you mean by 'room to maneuver'?"
Ranna looked at her hands. "Lara can call down forces equal to Marcos's last bid without surrendering any booty to him. With his agreement—something she is not likely to get—she could call down forces equivalent to her opening bid, but she would have to concede all sorts of things, making the victory worthless to her."
"Oh." The mercenary peered at Ranna, trying to pierce the veil of dejection. "Why are you upset? I thought you wanted Lara to win the bidding war."
"I did." She showed him the device that had been clipped to her belt as though in answer to his question. "It is just that the last 'Mech Star she bid away was mine. While she is down there fighting on New Bergen, I will still be up here."
"Sorry. I didn't realize I was such poor company. I can see how you would prefer combat to ..."
Irritation knotting her brows, she cuffed him playfully. "It is not that. But I want to be part of the invasion. This is the first assault since I tested into Star Commander and I want a chance to prove myself."
Phelan covered her hands with his. "I understand."
The door to the observation room slid open to admit Khan Ulric. Ranna and Phelan both stood immediately. If the Khan noticed their physical contact when he entered, he gave no sign. The Precentor Martial, a step behind him, did notice, but controlled his reaction perfectly.
The Khan pointed toward the battle bridge. "Did you see what happened, Phelan? Did you understand it?"
Phelan took a deep breath before answering. "I watched. I believe I understand. Your commanders bid against each other to see who can accomplish an objective with the least amount of personnel and equipment. I can see how it forces each to be as sharp as possible because, I assume, success in a mission breeds opportunity for more missions. What I don't understand is why you wanted me to watch this"— Phelan searched for the appropriate word—"ritual."
The Khan spitted Phelan with a steady stare. "I wanted you to watch because I want you to understand. I want you to understand because I want you to see how we think and operate."
The mercenary frowned. "I am honored, but how does that make me more valuable to you?"
"You underestimate yourself, Phelan. The ilKhan has decided that because our next target lies near the border of our attack zone and that of the Ghost Bears, I will have to bid against Khan Bjorn for the right to take it. You are acquainted with how your people make war, and from what the Precentor Martial tells me of your background, you possess a most unorthodox military mind. I want you to help me prepare my bids. Our next target is a ripe plum, indeed, and I mean to have it."
Ulric reached out and clapped the younger man on both shoulders. "With your help, Phelan Kell, Rasalhague will be mine."
23
Edo, Turtle Bay
Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine
7 May 3050
Crouched in the darkness of the storm drainage tunnels beneath Kurushiiyama, Shin Yodama adjusted the light sensitivity of his mirrored faceplate. The device, which had been given only to the yakuza's "wet" team, concentrated the available light streaming in through the small, round drainage hole above them. With the amplification, the meager light pouring down through the drains dotting the tunnel's spine looked like harsh spotlights.
Shin glanced at the luminous time display on the upper left corner of the faceplate. Above, the time slowly increased toward midnight. Below, seconds and minutes clicked down as the deadline for their attack approached. Shin smiled, trying to fool himself out of the nervousness that had his stomach churning. We're here a full minute ahead of schedule. Three minutes and counting.
The wet team had approached the prison by swimming beneath the Sawagashii River, then located the ferrocrete tunnel where the Old Man had found temporary refuge after his escape years ago. It led deeper into the prison, and was designed to carry water from the monsoons and other storms to the river. The two-meter-diameter tunnel had long been dreamed of as an escape route, but all the drains leading down into it were too small to admit any prisoner, and no one had the equipment to break through the ferrocrete that lay between him and the path to freedom.
Shin watched as two of the dozen-man team placed the explosive charges in a circle around one of the drains. Those shaped charges should blow up and out with enough force to open a hole for us to climb through into the cell blocks.The MechWarrior glanced up at the drain. I hope the yakuza who volunteered to get themselves incarcerated so they could get word to the Legion's people will be able to get out again.Motochika had been first in line for that duty.
To reassure himself, Shin dropped a hand to the curious weapon he had been given for the assault. Mated to the body of a laser rifle, the barrel and action of a pump-fed shotgun clung to the underside of the laser's barrel. For the sixth time since entering the tunnel, Shin looked at the pulse duration selector for the laser and held himself back from increasing it to a full half-second. If a .25 second bolt can't melt its way through something, the shotgun will just have to knock it down.
Mindful of his encounter with an armored infantryman half in and out of his armor, Shin had filled the bandolier hanging across his chest with heavy slugs. That the shotgun would eject to the right and cross his line-of-sight bothered the left-handed yakuza a little, but he dismissed the concern as trivial. If that's the worst thing that happens to me in this operation, I will be doing fine.More practically, Shin drew confidence from the bandolier's heavy weight and the fact that the thigh pockets of his black fatigues bulged with power packs for the laser rifle.
As the last minute counted down on the clock, Shin and the rest of the team moved back down the tunnel. Thirty seconds to the blast. The yakuza outside the prison should start their rocket barrage soon now. The Inferno missiles should shake up these invaders a bit and even provide us some illumination. If they miss their deadline, we just switch the explosives over to remote ... No, there they go.