"Battletech.-.Jade.Phoenix.02.-.Bloodname" - читать интересную книгу автора (Battletech)

The adrenaline always came early for Joanna at the slightest prospect of a fight. She needed a good one to rid herself of her current frustrations. Taking it out on someone like Nomad, no matter how insubordinate the man became, did her no honor. She was a warrior, and only happy when functioning as one.
What luck that Kael Pershaw intended to use this ship and her Trinary. Joanna could not be sure whether this was genius or desperation on the Star Colonel's part because this DropShip was only a troop transport never intended for orbital assault. The move surprised her, but she could not help but admire the man's determination.
I hope we can get off this ship before combat begins, she thought. I would hate to sit this one out as an onlooker in orbit around Glory. I surely would.


3

Kael Pershaw indeed had no advance intelligence network to warn him of the Wolf Clan's intrusion into his sector. Clan Jade Falcon was not expecting any attacks, for what enemy would seek to invade Glory Station?
When the commtech brought him word that some anomalies at the outer rim of the sector might be ships, Pershaw was not much concerned. Perhaps these were only merchant ships arriving a month or so early, or even some pirates looking for a place to hide. If the ships were merchant, their captains would bring their deals planetside soon enough. If pirate, Pershaw would let them hide here, provided it was not in his hemisphere of Glory.
What really was on his mind was standing before him right now, looking calm. Star Commander Jorge's uniform was not even marked from his recent fracas. It was as if the clothing had smoothed itself down around his body even after having been severely rumpled. Jorge was the type who survived anything. A good trait in a warrior, Pershaw thought, but this particular warrior, skilled as he was, was only a repulsive freebirth.
"It seems we have just had this same encounter, Jorge," Pershaw said. "The last time you fought with Star Commander Bast, was it not?"
Jorge nodded. Pershaw glowered. This Jorge was a block, a statue, a grisly piece of work. He would have to crush him.
To Aidan, Kael Pershaw's face appeared calm, almost serene. That was a clue, he knew, to the man's actual wrath. The angrier Pershaw became, the less it showed on his face or body. Warriors said that when Kael Pershaw became insane with rage, he looked nearly comatose. At this point, Aidan realized, the base commander was nearing the comatose state.
He had stood up to greet Aidan. When their eyes met, Pershaw smiled hugely. Another bad sign. If the man laughed, Aidan would consider making out his last will and testament.
"This time, however, Bast is dead," Pershaw said, his smile and voice not losing even an ounce of good cheer.
"So it appeared when last I saw him," Aidan replied.
"You choose to be insolent even at such a moment?"
"No, sir. I merely stated a fact, sir."
"I know you, Jorge. You have a way of stating facts that is not a way of stating facts."
"I do not understand, sir."
"You do not understand, but you do. You are not ironic, but you are. You do not lie, but you do. Yes, you do understand. You certainly do."
There was something like a twinkle in Pershaw's eyes as he studied Aidan, looking him up and down as if measuring him for a burial cloth.
"Bast was not a bright man, as warriors go. But he had learned how to make his 'Mech think for him, something you, Jorge, will never do. He was a valuable warrior, and—however much he may have provoked your assault—Bast is a greater loss to me than your worthless freebirth self will ever be."
"I have served the commander well, I believe."
"And you are arrogant enough to point that out. Well, arrogance is a good trait in a warrior, and I will not fault you for it. There are times when you are almost like a trueborn in your manner, speech, and abilities."
"What if I were a trueborn?"
When Pershaw let out a loud laugh of true mirth, fear seemed to prod at Aidan's spine. "Do not blaspheme," the commander said softly. "Some free-births make competent warriors, and you are one of them, I must reluctantly admit. But a freeborn can never be a trueborn and you befoul the eugenics ideal by even suggesting an equality between frees and trues. Saying such is just another black mark on your already well-blotted record, Star Commander Jorge."
"Sir, am I to assume that you hold me to blame for the death of Bast?"
Kael Pershaw's grin got wider, more mysterious. "Hold you to blame? How do you even ask the question? Of course I hold you to blame! You killed a fine warrior, one already injured from a previous brawl with your worthless freebirth self. We do not waste our personnel in inconsequential spats. We have a duty here, and that duty means conserving warriors, just as we conserve our weapons and supplies. That is the way of the Clan. Bast's death was wasteful, especially as it merely satisfied the petty feelings of a worthless freebirth warrior."
With each insult, Aidan bristled inwardly. He wanted to challenge his commander to a battle in the Circle of Equals, the one place where a warrior could legitimately fight a superior officer, but Kael Pershaw had banished the Circle. It had become debased, he claimed, by its use for trivial quarrels.
Kael Pershaw no doubt sensed Aidan's uneasiness, but Aidan had vowed to show no emotion before him. That oath was becoming more difficult to honor, with the Star Colonel's broad smile indicating clear and present danger.
"It is economy, Star Commander Jorge, that saves you from the punishment you deserve. If I could, I would deny you the rite of surkai and have you shot on the spot, but there is no one in your Star to take your place. I trust you will not be insulted when I say that your unit is the most motley, unskilled, and worthless group of warriors it has ever been my misfortune to have in my command. You are undoubtedly the right commander for them, and unfortunately, the only one I can spare for the job. So, let us initiate the rite of forgiveness, then return to duty."
Pershaw came around the desk, ready to accept Aidan's surkai, and was startled when Aidan said, "No. I refuse to initiate surkai this time. I was justified in killing Bast, and I need no forgiveness for it."
Pershaw was clearly enraged. If not, why did his voice drop almost to a whisper?
"I demand that you perform surkai, Star Commander Jorge."
"No. I will not."
"I order you."
"No officer may order surkai. Shall I quote you from The Remembrance on this subject, sir?"
"No, you will not." He walked away from Aidan, toward the only window in the room. It was so blackened from the gritty mists that came from Blood Swamp that only a few small areas still offered any possibility of a view. He stood for a moment, hands clasped behind his back, then abruptly turned.
"All right, then, we can only resort to symbology. Lanja!"
Lanja appeared immediately. Aidan knew she had been standing by the doorway, awaiting her commander's order. With Pershaw, all contingencies were anticipated. From the first moment he awoke after he had ordered himself to sleep, his day was firmly scheduled. He no doubt always had a plan ready for the rare occasion when a warrior might refuse surkai.
Lanja carried a slim case, holding it as if it were part of a ritual.
"Lanja, set the case on my desk."
"Yes, sir."
"Now open it."
Lanja slowly opened the case, with the same public precision she always used in response to an order from her commander. Aidan knew what was coming. If Clan loyalty had not restrained him, he could have strangled both Lanja and Pershaw at that moment.
Lanja held the black ribbon delicately in both hands. She extended it toward Kael Pershaw, who took it from her carefully, as if the ribbon were precious.
"Star Commander Jorge, you have brought discredit to your Star. There is nothing more shameful than an unnecessary death. For the period of the next month, you must wear the Memorial Ribbon and this picture across your chest. Lanja?"
Lanja displayed a holographic photograph of Bast, balancing it on the tips of her fingers to keep from damaging it in any way. The photo depicted Bast in a surly mood, the kind of tough-looking portrait of which warriors were so fond. One might find hundreds of nearly identical ones in any Clan file.
"Before I place the dark band on you, you are allowed by law to make a defense of your dishonorable action. Go ahead, Jorge. Respond."