SHOOT TO KILL

Justin Xiang slapped a new power pack into the Magna laser carbine, then looked around the corner. He snapped his head back as the two silhouetted figures deeper in the corridor triggered a ruby burst at him. He crouched as best his exoskeleton would allow, then dove into the corridor, rolled and came up on one knee. His finger tightened on the trigger.

Hot scarlet darts of laser fire raked across the corridor. One bolt hit a guard high in the chest, flaring like a meteor against the man's ablative vest. The guard stiffened, then dropped flat on his back. The other guard caught three bolts stitching their way from his right hip to his left shoulder. The impact spun him around, then dropped him in a rigid heap.

Not bad, so far. . .

BATTLETECH

08610

WARRIOR: COUPÉ

Michael A. Stackpole

ROC

Published by the Penguin Group Penguin Putnam Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A. Penguin Books Ltd, 27 Wrights Lane, London W8 5TZ, England Penguin Books Australia Ltd, Ringwood, Victoria, Australia

Penguin Books Canada Ltd, 10 Alcorn Avenue, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4V 3B2 Penguin Books (N.Z.) Ltd, 182-190 Wairau Road, Auckland 10, New Zealand

Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: Harmondsworth, Middlesex, England

Published by Roc, an imprint of Dutton NAL, a member of Penguin Putnam Inc. Previously published in a FASA Corporation paperback edition.

First Roc Printing, November, 1998

10987654321

Copyright © FASA Corporation, 1989 All rights reserved

Series Editor: Donna Ippolito Cover art by Peter Peebles

Mechanical Drawings: Duane Loose and the FASA art department

REGISTERED TRADEMARK —MARCA REGISTRADA

BATTLETECH, FASA, and the distinctive BATTLETECH and FASA logos are trademarks of the FASA Corporation, 1100 W. Cermak, Suite B305, Chicago, IL 60608.

Printed in the United States of America

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

BOOKS ARE AVAILABLE AT QUANTITY DISCOUNTS WHEN USED TO PROMOTE PRODUCTS OR SERVICES. FOR INFORMATION PLEASE WRITE TO PREMIUM MARKETING DIVISION, PENGUIN PUTNAM INC., 375 HUDSON STREET, NEW YORK, NEW YORK 10014.

If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this "stripped book."

This book is dedicated to those who have, in one way or another, aided and abetted me through the years. More specifically, these people have provided me with the means, motive and opportunity to do this book and series.

They are:

Means: Michael C. Pearo, Thomas Spinner, James Pacy, Susan Jackson, Marshall True, and Michael Stanton.

Motive: Hugh B. Cave, Liz Danforth, Gladys Maclntyre, John Ruhlman, and Thomas Helmer.

Opportunity: L. Ross Babcock III, Jordan Weisman, Donna Ippolito, and Rick Loomis.

They should all be considered unindicted co-conspirators in this work, and for their help I am very grateful.

The author would like to thank Liz Danforth for her insightful commentary on the rough draft and Ross Babcock and Donna Ippolito for editing me into literacy. The restaurant in Chapter 44 actually does exist—in Phoenix, not on Sian, however—and the dishes mentioned are two-thirds of a perfect meal. (The perfect meal adds Hot and Sour Spicy Soup, Moo Shu Pork with plum sauce, and House Special Chicken.) An evening spent there can make even a writer less anxious about being past his deadline....

Prologue

ComStar First Circuit Compound

Hilton Head Island, North America, Terra

27 February 3029

"You are all fools, blind fools!" Myndo Waterly exploded. "Hanse Davion will drown you in your own juice while you sit here and stew. I demand action! I demand an Interdiction now!"

Her outburst burned away the silent tension suffocating the oak-walled First Circuit chamber, but it did not crack Primus Julian Tiepolo's composure. "Precentor Dieron," he said calmly. "You will refrain from such childish displays of emotion. You owe your fellow Precentors an apology, for they are neither blind nor foolish. What we decide here will be based on intelligent, open discussion, and not be a knee-jerk response to someone shouting that the sky is falling."

Myndo stared back at her vulture-faced superior. You are tired, old man, and you’re dragging ComStar into the grave along with you. I will not allow this to happen.She broke off her stare, then bowed her head in supplication. "I do apologize, but you cannot expect me to be dispassionate when I see Jerome Blake's life-dream withering."

She looked around the chamber, taking in each of the red-robed Precentors. "Like you, I have labored long and hard to see our mission is fulfilled. ComStar is the salvation of mankind and the Word of Blake is a guide to that salvation. Hanse Davion's war against the Capellan Confederation unravels our work, yet you will do nothing to stop it. How can that be justified?"

Ulthan Everson, the large, blond man standing across from Myndo in the dimly lit chamber, accepted the challenge in her question. "Your vision of the future is not one we share, Precentor Dieron. You have cried wolf so often that we are no longer panicked by your words. You point at shadows as though they had substance. Hanse Davion's war does not contradict Blake's Word. It fulfillsit."

Myndo shook her golden hair back from the shoulders of her red silk robe. "Blake said wars would fragment the Successor States. Then, and only then, would ComStar rise up to lead mankind to its true pinnacle. Hanse Davion's war has swallowed half the Capellan Confederation. It does not divide. It unites!"

"Pavel Ridzik has created his own nation from the Tikonov Commonality," rebutted a slight, black-haired man. "Fragmentation, not fusion, Myndo."

"Ha!" Myndo fixed him with a harsh stare. "You refer to that puppet state as a fragment? Please, Precentor Sian, do not waste my time. Hanse Davion allows Ridzik to appear to be independent, but we know the Prince has dispatched his trusted friend, Ardan Sortek, to be Ridzik's watchdog."

Myndo smiled cruelly. "You would be right to cite Maximilian Liao as working toward fragmentation, but all he's doing is carving his own realm into bite-sized chunks so that Hanse Davion can gorge himself."

Huthrin Vandel laughed. "Perhaps he hopes the Prince will choke to death."

The Primus shook his head in silent rebuke. "Myndo is correct. Liao's efforts have been ineffective at stemming the Davion tide. Let us not forget that Hanse Davion has justly earned the nickname of the Fox. None of us anticipated his purchasing the loyalty of Liao's Northwind Highlanders with the world of Northwind. The Highlanders returned to their ancestral home and disrupted the Kurita assault on the Terran Corridor. It was a well-planned move on the Prince's part."

The Primus's intervention on her behalf rattled Myndo slightly. Is it possible that he has begun to see the threat, or is he merely reining in his underlings?She studied Tiepolo's face, but the man's dark eyes and blank expression gave her no clue to his thoughts.