Opalescent Reflections

House of Cards

Chapter 7

Malcheema, Arcturus

Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth

25 May 3051

Victor wasn't sure what he was being called to the RCT command post for. He hadn't done anything wrong he could think of, and if one of his battalion had then he would have their guts for galoshes, because they should all be busy right now.

Arcturus was the original capital of the Lyran Commonwealth, although power had transferred to Tharkad centuries ago as it was far too close to the aggressive Draconis Combine. Defending it was a political necessity… but the military reality was that there was no real expectation of holding the world. It was just too exposed - too obviously in the Clans' path. So while no one had announced it, the Tenth Lyran Guards and the Seventeenth Arcturan Guards RCTs were supposed to put up enough of a fight to look good - and then withdraw rather than risk serious losses.

In some ways that was harder than a fixed defense with no intention of withdrawing, and Victor had his battalion familiarizing themselves with the routes back to the concealed dropships when he was called in.

Climbing out of the jeep, he entered the headquarters building - pausing only to present his ID card to the guards. He no longer got double-takes from them when he did that, which was a great step forwards in his opinion. A painfully green looking leutnant was waiting for him and an elevator whisked him down into the darkened command center fifty meters below the surface.

Victor found two people waiting for him: Marshal Kelly Devers, the commander of the RCT and (in title) of his regiment; and the slightly more welcome Galen Cox, promoted to leutnant-colonel after Twycross. "Sir," he said, saluting the marshal. A glance at Cox didn't tell him what was going on.

"Kommandant," the marshal greeted him. "You have a personal call." She indicated one of the consoles.

What? He didn't ask that out loud but he was sure his face gave the sentiment away. Then he saw the spinning ComStar emblem indicating that someone was not only making a realtime conversation across the stars, but had actually been waiting for him. The cost of that was absurd even for royalty. "From Tharkad?" Victor asked instead as he took the seat facing the console. Some crisis in the family was the only thing that he thought could justify this.

"No, a mutual acquaintance," Cox told him. "The Coordinator wants to speak to you."

For a dreadful instant Victor thought that Takashi Kurita knew about various private thoughts he'd had about the Coordinator's granddaughter, but then he remembered that the man was dead. As unreal as it seemed, the new Coordinator was Omi's brother. He touched the button to accept the call.

The face he saw was familiar from Puget Sound, if older by more than the months since then. Is this, he thought, how I will look when mom and dad are gone? Minoru tried to smile and fail. "Kommandant… no, Victor."

"Minoru."

"I know we have not had the time to become friends," the bespectacled young man said quietly, "but I hope that we are not enemies. And there was mutual respect between our fathers."

"Yes." Victor nodded. "I… my condolences."

"My grandfather died as he would have wanted. My parents… well, by all accounts we have, they were together." Minoru shrugged slightly. "I am going to be shameless and beg a favor of you, Victor." He hesitated, perhaps feeling as nervous about this as Victor did. "My sister is alive," Minoru continued. "Or she was as of our last reports… on Luthien."

"Yeah, I'd… heard she was there."

"She leads the resistance," the Coordinator said proudly. "Thousands are safe from the Sharks because of her. But they are - I am sorry to say - not stupid. The Sharks' search for her is proving harder and harder to avoid." He shook his head. "As much as it pains me to say this, she will never be taken alive. And besides her, the people she is hiding have irreplaceable skills. I need them alive - and for them I can do what I could not if was just my sister."

Victor nodded. "You're planning a rescue operation?"

Minoru returned the gesture. "We have obtained certain codes that should allow a jumpship to deliver a pair of dropships and loiter long enough to recharge its drive. The dropships' return will be chancier, of course. My sister has been advised of the rendezvous." He lowered his head. "However, her ability to make discreet contact with the HPG station has been severed. Unfortunately, as I said, the Diamond Sharks are not stupid."

"You wouldn't be talking about a favor if everything was fine. What do you need?"

"The infantry who will be landing - including several DEST teams who will remain to prepare for a more permanent return of Luthien to Combine control - are in position. Unfortunately, the Ryuken battalion needed to secure the landing site long enough for my sister's people to embark has been stranded due to jumpship failure and will not arrive in time." Minoru paused. "To meet the schedule, there are very few options who can be brought in to replace them - and all are already committed to important missions. We have perhaps overcommitted, for lack of alternatives."

"Are you," Victor asked, "Asking me to take my entire battalion into the Combine to raid Luthien."

"I confess, I imagine many of your mechwarriors would have dreamed of attacking Luthien," Minoru said with a weak smile. "We have a jumpship delivering supplies to Camlann, it is due to depart in two weeks. If a battalion of the AFFC - yours or anyone else's - can be there then I can arrange their transport the rest of the way."

"Aren't there three Kungsarme regiments on Camlann?" asked Devers aggressively, leaning over Victor's shoulder.

Minoru seemed unsurprised, eyes barely flickering away from Victor. "Yes. General Mansdottir has declined my request. As is his right."

"And it's my right to do the same," Devers informed him.

The Coordinator tilted his head slightly. "I am not asking you, Marshal Devers. Nor am I asking my sister's friend Victor to disobey orders. I am asking the heir designate of the Federated Commonwealth to make a strategic decision, in the spirit of the truce agreed between our fathers."

Victor shook his head slightly, "You could have had this conversation with one or both of my parents. You're asking me to do this behind their back. Why?"

"Your father would ask me a price I cannot pay," Minoru said simply. "And your mother… perhaps I misjudge her, but I think she would ask your father."

"You think I can be led around by the nose?" he asked a little sharply.

"No," the Coordinator said, "But we are of a generation, so perhaps it will mean more to you than it would to your father when I offer what I can: peace between us, so long as I rule. There are many who would call that treason on my part."

"A Kurita's word?"

"My word."

Devers stared at the Coordinator and then stepped back. Victor glanced briefly up at her and then back at Minoru. "I'm not going to decide this on the spur of the moment, Minoru. I don't even know if it's possible with where our jumpships are right now. I'll send you a priority message as soon as I know."

"Of course. Thank you."

The screen went dead and Victor leant back in his chair, thoughts racing.

"You're considering this?" Galen asked him. "What am I saying, of course you are."

"Considering, yes," he said slowly. "If Minoru's serious, and I think he is, it means that the DCMS is stretched to the limit. They can't even afford to bring one of the units still on our border, which suggests that that border is… brittle. That we could roll right over units without them being able to respond strategically. If he did contact my parents, it'd be hell to keep the court from finding out and there would be a lot of pressure to do just that."

"If the Combine collapses, then our border with the Clans doubles. Even if they're just a punchbag for the Diamond Sharks, that's better than nothing." He exhaled slowly. "And it sounds as if he really needs to get those people off Luthien."

"And you like her."

Victor ignored the inhalation from Devers. "Thanks Galen. Make it sound like I'm being led around by my…" He refrained from using an obscenity in front of the Marshal. "Yeah, I like her. But that isn't enough to do this."

"As your commanding officer, I can forbid this," warned Devers.

"Do you?" He locked eyes with her.

There was evident temptation in her eyes but in the end she looked away and Victor nodded. "Thank you, Marshal."

"Don't thank me yet. If you go ahead with this, my ass is in a sling."

Victor leant forwards. "I need to send some priority messages," he decided. "And find out if this is even possible, of course. If I can't get to Camlann by the deadline then this is meaningless."

"Who do you want to speak to?" asked Cox.

"Morgan for one - pulling a battalion off Arcturus without telling him could screw up deployments he's planning for," Victor decided. "Accrington is a lot less likely to leak this to the court than Tharkad or New Avalon." His cousin's command post was on a theater command world in the Skye March, which would likely be the next battlefield with the Clans. "And then Christian Kell."

"You want the Kell Hounds to go rather than leading the operation?"

Victor made a face. "I don't plan on sending someone to do something I wouldn't - although if Morgan orders it, I guess I'll have to," he told the older man. "But Christian's been to Luthien, he'd have some idea of what the chances of this working are."

Devers shook her head. "I recommend against this, your highness." Her use of his title not his rank was pointed. "But I will have my staff check the jumpships for you."

CSJS Streaking Mist, Caldrea

Clan Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone

2 June 3051

Wei Rong had been aboard warships before and she had found them to be dropships writ large and little more. Noise and motion, even if it might be at the extremes of one's senses, enough to show her why the crews counted them as living things - and might be right, in a way. Functions driving form.

The battlecruiser Streaking Mist was all this and more. A thousand light years from their homes, Clan Smoke Jaguar had brought their culture with them. Snarling iconography on the walls, trophies in niches set aside for them, verses of their epic Remembrance poem…

And the scent of fear from the crew, even those who wore warrior uniforms, when faced by officers of rank.

There was a savagery here that was barely leashed and it was a relief to enter the council chamber that occupied what had probably been a cargo bay at one point. The colors of more than a dozen other Clans was a break from the oppressively smokey grays and blacks. And these men and women rarely feared the Smoke Jaguars.

IlKhan Leo Showers rose to greet Wei, though the "Primus," was more snarl than greeting. He offered her his hand and while Wei had been reared to believe bows were more appropriate, she accepted it. His callused fingers closed around her immaculately manicured digits and clenched down, hard.

It wasn't entirely unexpected, not even the first time that it had been done to her. And oddly, it heartened Wei. Only the insecure really needed to show off their strength to a small and harmless looking woman.

It still hurt though, so after a moment, she ground her thumb against the bones of the back of his hand. Showers endured for a moment, as if to make the point that he was doing so of his will and not due to the pain, and then loosened his grip. "IlKhan," she returned his greeting.

"I have looked forward to seeing you in person," Showers declared in a predatory growl. "I am gratified that you accepted our invitation to meet the Grand Council."

"I believe it is time to do so." The fall of Orestes had been confirmed a week before her arrival. A rear guard of the Kungsarme had retreated offworld to Camlann, just two light years closer to Terra. Clan Wolf's victory had cost the Free Rasalhague Republic its last territory. Now all that survived was a small army, battered badly, and a government-in-exile surviving on off-world investments and the charity of others.

One of the Khans wearing green - the younger, which made him Timur Malthus - approached. "I had thought that your general would continue to handle most of your dealings with the Clans. He is, after all, a warrior."

"Anyone who thinks that politics is not a war has not been paying attention," Wei told him in a reasonable tone.

That got a chuckle from the elder of the two Jade Falcon khans. "That is true, Primus." He indicated a seat off to the side. "We have assigned a place to you, as we would to any other Free Guild's leader attending the Grand Council."

Wei was unsure if that was an intentional trap or just overconfidence. Either way, it was a good point to make her stand on. Hopefully it would go well, because there was at least some risk that she'd be killed by one of the Khans. If she did come to harm then the Clans would face an interdiction, but that wouldn't be much comfort if she was dead.

"That will not be necessary," she told the Khan firmly. Elias Crichell, she thought he was called. "ComStar is not one of your Free Guilds so I will attend only so long as our business with the Grand Council is being dealt with."

Ulric Kerensky chuckled slightly. "ComStar was granted the protections of a Free Guild, Primus."

"Protections?" she asked, as if she was unaware. "Quite unnecessary, thank you. Almost insulting, in fact."

"The status has protected your enclaves from any repeat of Susquehanna," Kerensky pointed out.

Wei shook her head. "Protection is offered to the weak, Khan Kerensky. The strong have allies, not protectors. If our enclaves are under threat then we will defend them with our own strength."

"Does that include Terra, quiaff?" The speaker was a woman, wearing gray and green. Her uniform had a snake motif, but Wei knew there were three different Clans with snakes as their totem so she wasn't sure which this Khan led.

"Of course," Wei replied. "We have been preparing to defend the motherworld since it was entrusted to us, over two hundred years ago. We have been its protectors since Aleksandr Kerensky gave up that role."

Leo Showers leant forward. "But now we have returned," he said in a weighty tone. "The SLDF's heirs are here to take up this sacred charge. There is no further need for a… religious sect."

Wei hid her fear behind a broad smile. "IlKhan, it sounds as if you don't believe that ComStar is equal to the challenge."

There was laughter from more than one Khan, but not from Showers. "You are not," he said simply. "You are not warriors, you hide behind your control of communications."

She hid her hands in her sleeves so that he didn't see them trembling. "I think we all know that should any of the Clans come within a reasonable range of Terra you would try to seize control of it. That whole… ilClan business?" Wei looked around the room. "Do you really think that we have been sitting here assuming that we could interdict you and you would just…" She shrugged. "Go away? That would be ridiculous."

"Ah yes, you and your ComGuards," Timur Malthus sneered. "Untested warriors in obsolete wargear."

"I believe Khan Weaver tested them on Susquehanna," she reminded the council. "I do not recall that she enjoyed the encounter."

The khan in question flushed. Wei wasn't sure if she was the senior Khan now or if the new Khan had been promoted over her. Exactly how that worked was obscure. "I defeated your ComGuards," Weaver replied truculently.

Wei sighed, although that led neatly into her plan. "Very well, since you doubt our fitness to defend Terra let us put that to the test."

"What are you suggesting?" Ulric Kerensky looked curious.

"Your clan has taken Orestes," she told him. "The next world after that is Camlann - we will fight one of your trials there. If you lose, you must accept that Terra is ours to protect."

"In that case," Elias Crichell proposed, "If you lose then you must yield Terra to us."

Wei wondered how far she could flee if this went wrong. If she got to the dropship… no, the battlecruiser would destroy it. Well, if she got out of the system, maybe she could get a place on an Interstellar Expeditions mission into the deep periphery? "That raises the stakes somewhat," she said slowly, as if considering the idea. "If you want me to give up the mother world then I must ask for something of similar value."

"You would be recognised as Terra's protectors, isn't that enough?" asked the new Smoke Jaguar Khan. She didn't recall his name - something Furry?

"We already have that status," she corrected him. "Alright, if we win you have to agree to cease your invasion. We can draw a line through Camlann and for a hundred years, the Clans will not cross that line. I would ask for forever, but none of us will live that long."

The Diamond Shark khan spoke for the first time. "None of us will live for a century either. You ask more than we can promise, Primus. However, I think it would be reasonable to offer you a year's guarantee."

"The Inner Sphere is already bringing considerable forces to bear," warned an aged Khan in black. He had the short stature of one of their aerospace warriors. "Do you have any idea how much that year would help them?"

"I have a very good idea how much we could ship across a thousand light years in that time," Sennet replied evenly. "I would imagine it is much the same. And if we lose, and must accept ComStar as Terra's guardians, then the race to take control of it is moot - Operation Revival will have failed and we will need time to reconsider our options."

"And who would represent the Clans," enquired Karl Bourjon. "If we win, then the winner could claim to be ilKhan."

Showers stiffened but rather than reply directly, he continued to stare at Wei. "You will surrender Terra when your forces are defeated?"

She nodded. "If you can win on Camlann, then you need only send forces to Terra and we will withdraw our presence. You understand that if we simply depart before you arrived, one of the Successor Lords would take control."

The ilKhan considered that but appeared to find it acceptable. "If you do win you will have your year."

Now Wei shook her head. "It is one of you who proposed a year. I do not accept that. A single year is nothing. If you will not offer a century, then let it be twenty-five years - a full generation." Surely by that point she would be able to retire and the Clans would be someone else's problem.

"For you that might be a generation," Ulric Kerensky allowed, "But for us it is far longer. It is unlikely that most of us will be Khans by that point. I propose a five year cessation of hostilities."

Five years would allow the armament programmes that the First Circuit had decided on to make a great deal of progress. Wei thought it might be acceptable, but at the same time it was about as long as she had been Primus. It was likely that if any one was elected to replace her, they'd be a warmonger - someone basing their claim on willingness to fight the Clans. "Let us compromise," she offered. "Fifteen years."

"That is far too long," Showers protested.

"Then we must simply win, quiaff?" offered Furry, or whatever his name was.

"Indeed," agreed Kerensky. "The compromise is acceptable to me," he added, looking around the chamber.

"If you lose," Sarah Weaver said pointedly, "Then ComStar's enclave on Camlann is also forfeit."

There were over a million people living in that enclave, on the edges of the mostly frozen northern continent. But Wei could hardly refuse now. She was already gambling with billions. "Very well."

Showers gazed around the room and then shook his head. "I believe the consensus of the Council is to accept these terms. What forces will defend your claim, Primus?"

Wei met his gaze. "The ComGuards will deploy both of our two field armies - each is approximately equivalent to an SLDF Corps. I request a month's grace to fully deploy them to Camlann."

There was a dead silence in the room. A SLDF Corps was a fairly vague term, since they'd varied quite a bit in size, but they were huge. The idea of a single Corps being deployed to a single world had been unthinkable since the fall of the Star League and the departure of the SLDF. And Wei was committing two of them?!

"In addition," she added, "The Kungsarme survivors have retreated to Camlann. As they have already sworn to defend the world, we will contract them to fight as part of our bid. That brings us to around seventy-nine brigades in strength."

"Are you stripping Terra's defenses?" accused one of the Khans.

Wei looked at the man. "No, I said field armies. As opposed to the orbital defenses, the garrisons… our warship fleet, that sort of thing. By intention, Terra is intended to be able to defend itself even if the field armies are deployed elsewhere."

"I believe," Leo Showers said slowly, "That we can make use of that month to bring together forces from all the Invading Clans, so let us agree that we shall begin our invasion of Camlann thirty-one days from now, on the third of July."

Wei bowed slightly. "I will leave it to the Precentor Martial to negotiate the exact battlefields and other details."

Yamashiro, New Samarkand

Galedon District, Draconis Combine

5 June 3051

Minoru Kurita sat on his throne and facing him was Hanse Davion. The young man wondered if he should have the throne room purified somehow. It would give the courtiers something to do other than try to micromanage his schedule.

The First Prince was only there as a hologram, fortunately, and clever camera work made it seem as if he sat next to his wife at a single desk when in fact they were in two different rooms over five hundred light years apart - Melissa on Tharkad and Hanse on New Avalon.

To Minoru's right, General Christian Mansdottir appeared in the air, sat behind a desk of his own. And finally, facing Mansdottir, the Primus of ComStar stood. She looked tired, he thought.

"No Romano Liao and Thomas Marik?" asked Hanse Davion drily. "I'm sure she will assume we are plotting against her."

Wei smiled shot him a thin smile. "I am only addressing the rulers of states currently fighting the Clans. Thank you for making time for me."

Minoru glanced across the room at the Federated Commonwealth's power couple. "You gave us some warning of the Clans, Primus. A little time is not too much to ask."

"Since we have the opportunity though." Melissa Steiner-Davion turned a glare on Minoru that was quite out of line with her usual persona. For the most part, the Archon was seen as the more personable of the pair. "Coordinator, you have encouraged my son to act recklessly, something he doesn't usually need help with. If he, or Kai Allard-Liao, comes to harm… then the voices in my court who believe we should take advantage of your nation's current situation will find a more welcome ear than they would otherwise."

"As my sister is on the line, I am doing everything I can to make the operation a success."

"It would be possible for your sister to be saved at the cost of my son." The Archon's eyes were very cold. "I would not consider that a success. I will not undercut him by countermanding the operation… but this is on you."

Minoru bowed his head slightly "I feel similarly. The Succession Wars are over, whatever anyone wants. That requires a new relationship between House Kurita and the other Great Houses. I hope that your son - and Duchess Liao's son - will help me lay a foundation for that."

Melissa's husband chuckled, a little harshly. "That will be up to your generation, as it should be."

"I am sure you can discuss this in your own time," Mansdottir observed. "Primus, why do you wish to address us all?"

Wei Rong folded her hands. "In light of the threat posed to ComStar, I have presented a challenge to the Clans. In the event they triumph, it should push back their ninth wave of attacks by about a month and leave them with significantly fewer forces." She looked over at Mansdottir. "With the exception of the attack on Camlann, that is."

"Setting aside why Camlann is the exception," Hanse Davion probed, "What will happen if they do not triumph."

"In that case, your highness, the Clans have agreed to break off their current invasion and accept a truce for fifteen years. I cannot insist that you accept such a truce, but if you wish to break it then you may wish to do so under advantageous terms… once you have made use of some time to re-arm and redeploy." The Primus thinned her smile.

"Could you not have offered that before Orestes fell?" the General demanded harshly. "Wasn't what happened to Reykjavik enough reason for you to intervene?"

Wei Rong gave him a thoughtful look. "If we were in position to have done this then… well, we will never know." She shook her head. "In any event, the challenge is Camlann. Coordinator, I understand that you have requested that General Mansdottir spearhead the defense. While the Kungsarme can certainly participate if they so wish, I am asking you to accept the large scale deployment of the ComGuards as well or instead."

"I think I would have a mutiny if I tried to lead my soldiers further from home," Mansdottir mused and looked at Minoru. "Coordinator?"

"I have already had to ask for aid from the Federated Commonwealth," he replied. "But I would like a little more detail. What do you mean by large scale deployment?"

"Precentor-Martial Anastasius Focht will command the First and Second Field Armies - that is the equivalent of twelve of the old SLDF divisions… assuming that each of our Level IV brigades is roughly equivalent to a DCMS combat brigade, the Clans should require between fifty and seventy of their Clusters to match the force."

"That…" Minoru frowned. "At least half the forces they've committed to the entire invasion?"

Hanse Davion chuckled again. "And I assume you chose Camlann simply because it was the next world in their line of advance."

"I am sure you would have preferred that they defend a Federated Commonwealth world," the Primus admitted. "But if nothing else, I think it might give you a better chance on the worlds you're currently fighting for."

Over the Midland Sea, Camlann

Benjamin District, Draconis Combine

3 July 3051

The sky above Camlann's Middle Sea was afire, for the first time since the Second Succession War. There hadn't been anything of strategic value around the sea since House Kurita took the world from the Lyrans, nuclear fire had been used by both sides to try to burn out the chemical and biological contamination caused in fighting for what had been a rich industrial region of a provincial capital. And each other's troops, of course.

Tyra Miraborg knew that the region below wasn't suited for long term habitation. The graves of millions lay untended, only a tiny handful of salvagers having inhabited the shores, making a living by stripping material from shattered cities to be decontaminated and recycled or repurposed. Precentor Martial Focht and General Mansdottir had agreed that this was a fitting battlefield to face the Clans on.

Let them see the devastation of war first hand, fighting for the ruins. Neither side would be here long enough for the remaining contaminations to matter - and at least on Tyra's part, she was flying far above it.

"Here they come," she warned, seeing the fiery trails of dropships and aerospace fighters entering the atmosphere. "Valkyrie squadron, follow me."

Her Shilone responded eagerly as Tyra pulled the controls back and pushed the throttle fully open. The other five aerospace fighters followed - two more Shilone, a Corsair and then a pair of Hammerheads that had only joined the Flying Drakons a week ago. Fallen off a ComStar dropship, Tyra assumed. The ancient SLDF design resembled the Octaves she'd seen over Rasalhague - or rather, she now knew, the Sabutai. She'd drilled Valkyrie Squadron intensively on recognising the differences - there was no room for friendly fire when there might never be any more replacement pilots or equipment.

As multiple gravities pushed her back into the acceleration couch, Tyra judged the trajectory of one of the larger trails of fire. That was almost certainly a dropship, and that made it the goal here. Without ground forces, the Clans could not take ground, and catching them before their sensors had recovered from the reentry heat was the best chance the Kungsarme had of leveling the odds.

Smaller heat signatures pointed out the escort covering the dropship though. It wasn't as if the Clans were stupid, damn them.

"Fighters," Valkyrie Three warned unnecessarily.

"I see them, Three." Tyra calculated her timing. The formation was looser than it could be, but probably not enough that they could just blow through. On the other hand, only an utter moron would make their re-entry with their cockpit facing down, so the pilots would be blind to the arrival of her squadron and the dozens of others in the sky as they came up beneath the invasion force. Know they were coming, yes. See them, no.

Her teeth drew back as the twenty-meter tall stalking cat of Clan Smoke Jaguar painted on the side of the dropship became visible in the distance. There had been very little discussion of which cities the Kungsarme would be deployed to defend. Once it was known that Fayettevil and Bentonvil had been chosen by the Clan who burned the capital, it would have invited mutiny not to send Rasalhague's last soldiers to those cities. Half a division of the ComGuards was backing them up, but for the most part this would be the Kungsarme's show.

"I'm allocating targets," Tyra declared, flagging the first six in what was probably a standard ten-strong star of Clan pilots. "Hit yours with everything you have and then go for the dropship. This might be our only chance."

There was a chorus of acknowledgement, but Tyra's gaze was narrowing in on the Sabutai she'd marked as target number one. It came closer and closer, the sheath of fire beginning to fade as her weapons lock went gold.

She had a shot and he must have known that someone had a shot. In the last instant, right as she pulled the trigger, the clan pilot tried desperately to evade. He didn't quite manage, and Tyra's fighter - like most of the Drakons - was packing external rocket pods.

Forty rockets, along with twenty LRMs smashed into the ventral surface of the fighter and then Tyra twitched her controls to keep it in her crosshairs before firing her large laser. ComStar had replaced the trusty Diverse Optics Ten with something they claimed had almost thirty percent greater range. Tyra hadn't had much time to test that and she was close enough it shouldn't matter… but she felt the higher than expected heat surge as the laser fired.

The pulse of coherent light tore through tattered armor and one wing came away from the Sabutai and it fell into a spiral downwards.

All Tyra's instincts told her to finish the invader off, but the dropship was the real mission - packed with warriors who would pose a deadly threat to her comrades below. Yanking on the yoke, she brought the Shilone around towards the target.

Aware that they were under attack, the dropship's gunners were responding now. Missiles spat from its sides in worrying quantities and lasers fired back at Valkyrie Squadron. One of the Hammerheads, with its massive autocannon, blew apart as the ammunition exploded. Tyra's own wings were getting flayed as she twisted, trying to keep the bulk of the dropship in her sights.

The dropship - the warbook called it a Lion-class - was taking damage, but it was a hundred times the size of an aerospace fighter and the thick plating was still holding up.

One of the Shilone had held back its rockets - against orders, but who cared now. Valkyrie Three closed in to suicidal range and fired the full packs into one of the hatches. The door panel broke away, revealing the mechanisms that would have opened it, but they weren't through to the interior yet.

A moment's warning was all that Tyra had as one of the surviving escorts managed to get around and singled her out. Autocannon fire cracked plates all along one wing as she angled away, but the T-bone shape of a Visigoth closed in inexorably and no matter how the young kapten tried to shake it, the Clan pilot had a better turning circle than she had - and the lasers and short range missiles were already ripping into her fuselage.

In desperate improvisation, Tyra slammed the reactor shutdown and yanked the yoke back.

Without power, the Shilone stalled almost immediately and with the nose up she got the unsettling experience of feeling the fighter fall backwards towards Camlann.

The Visigoth overflew her, rolling aside to stay clear of her weapons unfortunately.

Up above, Tyra saw the Lion turning, its massive thrusters belching fire. Then a shadow slashed across it and for a single crystalline moment she saw Valkyrie Four's Corsair, flames steaming from even the cockpit, arrowing in like a missile.

Then the Corsair was gone and a quarter of the Lion was on fire, what might have been the fighter buried in the side. It was impossible to say for sure.

Working what remained of her control surfaces, Tyra fought to get the Shilone into something resembling a stable dive. In glimpses out of the corner of her eyes she saw escape pods and elementals falling away from the stricken Lion. It seemed the occupants had no faith in its ability to make a safe landing.

A moment later, two 'mechs fell past her - a skull-faced humanoid machine and a hunched over bird-like machine. Both much larger than her Shilone and both falling faster. If they didn't have jump jets they were dead - in fact, if they were still over the water they were dead too. A quick glance down told Tyra that they had reached the coast so maybe not the latter, although it would be touch and go.

Finally she got the nose down and was out of her tumble. She'd lost a lot of altitude, but that was the nice thing about fusion thrusters - they could make a brick fly if they had to. She slapped the restart control and the fusion turbine roared to life once more, the Shilone beginning to accelerate upwards.

She'd lost contact with her squadron. At least two were dead and she should commend Valkyrie Four… what was the woman's name? Tyra could bring to mind a fleeting impression of green eyes and black hair, but nothing more. One of the pilots from the Third Drakons' aerowing, she thought. Potter? Proctor?

Then she saw a flicker of movement and threw her Shilone onto its side as the Visigoth - or one of its sisters - came down at her out of the sun.

The frantic maneuver was enough to get her clear of the Visigoth's nose as its lasers fired, her computer marking dispassionately how close it had come to ripping her apart. And then the salvo of SRMs adjusted course in mid-flight and tracked around to chase her.

Explosions behind Tyra shook the entire aircraft and eloquently explained why the turbine's shriek followed. Power left the controls.

There was no time to think further. Tyra's gloved hands flashed from the yoke to the handgrips between her legs and she yanked them savagely.

The canopy erupted away and after just barely long enough for the armorglass to be clear, her ejection seat rocketed away.

Out in the cold air, everything was suddenly quiet and Tyra watched the Shilone fall away. The drogue for her parachute uncoiled, pulling the seat upright before the main parachute opened. She could see the Visigoth looping around and she tensed, wondering if he was one of the sick bastards who believed an ejected pilot was unfinished business.

However, the nose didn't come near her - the pilot rolling around to visibly look up at her through the canopy. His hand flashed up in salute and Tyra felt her anger boil. How dare he treat this like some sort of game!

Then everything was fire as a pair of Drakon pilots did to the Visigoth what he had done to her - diving out of the sun and hammering the Smoke Jaguar with their full firepower.

Tyra might have taken some satisfaction in seeing one of the Visigoth's wings come apart if a section almost fifty centimeters across hadn't been flying right at her. The section of armor was tumbling almost casually and if it hit her edge on, she'd lose her parachute or just be cut in half.

Almost out of horizontal force, the wing plate smacked flat against Tyra's helmet and everything went black for her.