"Then it's good he's here. We haven't had such successes in the whole ten years of the war."
"Yeah, but it's become hiswar, somehow. Is that right, that we should step aside, and let him win the war for us? And what about afterward? Are we going to be able to get rid of him?"
"I thought you trusted him."
"I don't know what to think anymore. This idea of his, to carry the war to the villages..." The teeth-grinding noises came again. Carlyle had said that the enemy had to be hit again and again, he had to be kept off-balance, kept inside his containments and garrison camps. More important, he insisted that the people must be enlisted in the fight against the invaders. Tollen knew that meant more towns like Mountain Vista would be reduced to rubble before this was over. More of his people would die in fire and horror. What was right?
"We're leaving tomorrow," he said at last.
"I heard."
"We're heading west. A raid in force, Carlyle calls it. To Scandiahelm. There's a Kurita garrison there."
Carlotta ran her hand along his chest. He could sense her compassion for his own pain, his uncertainty. "You'll come back to me?" she said.
"Carlotta mine," he whispered, sweeping her close, inhaling the scent of her, enfolding her warmth. "Nagumo's whole army couldn't keep me away, beloved..."
* * * *
Lori, too, was thinking about Grayson that night, but the thoughts were not pleasant. She came awake in her quarters in the rebel compound, her skin glistening with sweat, the paralyzing fear of the nightmare still close. In the moon-spilled darkness, she sat breathing hard, trying to collect herself.
Rather than face sleep and the terror of more dreams, she decided to get dressed and give her Locustanother check-through. As she pulled on her clothes, Lori's movements were sluggish. She'd thought the nightmares had gone for good. It was depressing to know that her fears and self-doubts were rising, hydra-headed, once more.
* * * *
Grayson had the guerrilla-mercenary force in motion an hour before the sun came up. Their ‘Mechs re-armed and re-equipped, the worst of the battle damage repaired by Techs who had worked furiously through the night, the raiding party set out along forest trails and logging roads toward the west. The group consisted of sixteen rebel ‘Mechs led by Montido in his fully repaired Dervish,as well as all six of the mercenary ‘Mechs.
Those rebel ‘Mechs too badly damaged or too uncertain in their jury-rigged repairs or weaponry to survive a long, hard march would remain at the Fox Island cave. The rest started off after Grayson's mercenaries, moving swiftly by jungle trails and backwoods roads in the same westerly direction. Riding in hovercraft and swamp skimmers, Brasednewic's infantry accompanied the column, a force of perhaps 500 men and women in all. Because they were slower, the rebel Galleon tanks and other wheeled or tracked vehicles would remain behind.
With them was Jaleg Yorulis, his Stingerassigned to one of the Verthandian ‘Mech trainees. Grayson had decided it wiser not risk him in combat.
22
As Grayson and his forces moved westward, the land rose steadily, tree cover growing thinner until the forest gave way to scattered patches of woodland among bluegreen meadows and cultivated fields. Their destination was on Perres Point, a Kurita watch station at the very edge of the jungle and above the village of Scandiahelm. Here, the Basin Rim was a relatively gentle, forested ridge. The region above the ridge was part of the Bluesward Plateau, tucked in between the Silvan forest and the Uppsala Mountains. Villages dotted the rolling countryside, interspersed with blueleaf plantations and gavel farms.
The Dracos had built watchstations on Verthandi wherever there was a sizable local population to control or an important resource to guard. At Perres Point, it was the inhabitants of the nearby villages who were held hostage. Several hamlets and farms had been burned already in retaliation for attacks on Kurita personnel in the area. The station itself consisted of a small supply depot and maintenance facility, a platoon of sixty soldiers, and one lance of BattleMechs of the Third Strike Regiment's Second Battalion, Company C.
The combined mercenary-rebel force hit the watchstation at dawn, catching the Kurita ‘Mechs unmanned, the soldiers at breakfast Less than two minutes after Grayson's Shadow Hawkcrashed through the perimeter fence, the Kurita troops were throwing down their weapons. Four ‘Mechs—a Wolverine,a Phoenix Hawk,a Panther,and a Wasp—had fallen into rebel hands. As had tons of supplies, rations, ammunition, and spare parts, a literal treasure for the ragged little army, purchased without a single death.
* * * *
Grayson wished his next task would be as easy as ambushing the Kurita watchstation garrison. The rebel forces were still rounding up prisoners and loading captured spare parts and stores from the base and the nearby supply dump when a delegation of townspeople arrived from Scandiahelm. He received them inside the watchstation complex, in a bombproof chamber that had served as a mess hall. The delegation consisted of Scandiahelm's chief proctor, a graying, worried-eyed man in his fifties, and two companions. Grayson stood behind the mess table, flanked by Lori and Brasednewic. He smiled and extended a hand, but the proctor ignored it.
Instead, the man dropped a packet onto the messhall table in front of the mercenary commander. Grayson opened it, pulling out a sheaf of flat holos. He held up each in turn, letting the light from the overhead fluoros catch them. Each detailed some horror of war. Rubble spilled across a street. Bodies, sprawled and crazily twisted, lay in black pools. A forest of orange flames silhouetted a skyline. The unmistakable form of a Marauderrose against flame and blackness, its heavy forearms leveled above the crumbling ruin of what might have been a church. A tiny human figure clung to one arm, legs wildly flailing.
Grayson looked up from the holos, eyebrows arched. "What's all this?"
The proctor's mouth tightened. His face was pale above the high-collared black and scarlet jacket he wore. "That is...was the town of Mountain Vista. We thought you should see these."
"Yes?" Grayson remained impassive, but he knew what was coming next.
"Mountain Vista lies on the Other side of Regis from us," one of the other Verthandians said. He had a bushy mustache and shared the proctor's look of fear and disapproval. "But it's not so far from Scandiahelm. Some misguided youths shot and killed a Kurita guardsman there. One BattleMech—only one,this Marauder—did all this to the town."
"I don't think I understand," Grayson carefully lied. How was he supposed to handle this?"Whose side are you on?"
The proctor's frown deepened. "We're not onanyone's 'side', as you put it! By attacking this base, you have put Scandiahelm and every other nearby town in grave danger! Do you know what the Governor will doto us when he learns of this raid of yours?"
Grayson glanced at Brasednewic. The rebel leader stood, arms crossed, his face carefully neutral.
"I'd say there is a very good chance that they'll come and destroy your town," Grayson replied. "The question is, what are yougoing to do about it?"
The third Verthandian looked at his leader. "Kalev was right. Proctor Jorgenson. We should throw in with the Dracos."
"And beg for their mercy?" Grayson tapped the holos with the back of his hand. "Is this the Kurita mercy you seek? Or their justice?"