Текст книги "Natural Selection"

Автор книги: Michael A. Stackpole

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

BOOK I

The Best of Times

1

Arc-Royal

Federated Commonwealth

12 April 3055

 

Prince Victor Ian Steiner-Davion turned toward the elevator in the waiting area as its door opened. Tugging down at the hem of his dress jacket, he smiled and nodded at the two security men flanking the elevator. Those two remained motionless, yet Victor knew from long years of experience that their eyes were alert behind the mirrored glasses and that their guns were near at hand.

The Prince's smile broadened as a tall, robust warrior in the red and black dress uniform of the Kell Hounds stepped from the lift. The warrior's long hair brushed the shoulders of his jacket, but it had changed over the years from black to almost white, matching the equally snowy field of his beard. The crow's-feet around the man's dark eyes deepened as his face creased with a warm smile.

"I'd not expected to find you up so early, Highness," said Morgan Kell, cocking his head toward the windows giving a view of the the dark spaceport. "Having the DropShip arrive this early in the morning was meant to keep the idle curious away."

Victor's laugh was good-humored. "I am hardly the idle curious, Morgan." Knowing that the leader of the Kell Hounds was well-aware of his secret reason for being on Arc-Royal, Victor played along with the banter, assuming it was for the benefit of the elevator's other passenger. "I suppose I still haven't adjusted to Arc-Royal's time. And then after we got the news of the bandit strike at Pasig, I was up all night studying the preliminary reports."

"I heard about that—not good." Morgan turned back and looped his left arm around the shoulders of the young man who had trailed him out of the elevator. Tall and gangly, the youth had the black hair of a Kell, but his eyes were an unusual blue-green. He was still blinking away sleep.

"Highness, this is my grandson, Mark Allard. Perhaps you remember seeing him when we came to greet you on your arrival."

The Prince of the Federated Commonwealth extended his hand to the young man. "Victor Davion."

Mark smiled as he looked down at Victor and shook his hand. "I am honored to meet you, Highness."

"Just call me Victor, cousin." Victor frowned slightly as he glanced at Morgan. "I have tried, repeatedly, to get your grandfather to do that, but he insists on formality. I could order him, I suppose, but everyone knows that the Kell Hounds can't follow orders."

Morgan laughed, but Mark's eyes became distant for a second. "Like Phelan." The words, heavy with contempt, hung in the air like a foul vapor.

Morgan's eyes narrowed slightly. "I thought it would be good for Mark to see his uncle again in a less formal situation than what all the receptions are likely to be later this week."

The younger man tried to shrug off his grandfather's arm. "Why you want to save that traitor embarrassment, I don't know." Mark looked over to Victor. "You must be suspicious of him, too. You have all your bodyguards here."

Victor hesitated a moment before replying. "Actually, these men go everywhere that I do. Were I really worried, I'd have asked Kommandant Cox to come along. And, yes, I am here in my official capacity as Prince of the Federated Commonwealth to welcome a Khan of the Wolf Clan. I am also here as myself to welcome my cousin."

Mark's hands balled into fists as the frustration all but shimmered off him. "How can you two be so blind? Phelan got himself expelled from the Nagelring, then went over to the Clans. He's a hero, to them, a hero to the same people who have tried to destroy the Inner Sphere. The Wolf Clan, the one he helped, has been the most successful in attacking us, and they rewarded him by making him a Khan. He shouldn't be welcomed, he should be shot on sight."

Victor folded his arms across his chest. "I think you have that a bit wrong, Mark. Phelan wasexpelled from the Nagelring, but it wasn't exactly what you're suggesting. Phelan saw a job that had to be done, and he did it. The Honor Board, as I understand it, believed he had violated the honor code. I was at the New Avalon Military Academy that year, so I only know what I read in the files, but Phelan's action saved lives."

Even as he spoke, Victor shifted uneasily. He didn't like having to defend Phelan because, despite being cousins, they had never been close. Victor had tried to get to know him while at the Nagelring, but Phelan had rejected the overtures. Actually, I thought he was a big waste at the Nagelring, and it didn't surprise me in the least when he got bounced. I was relieved when he was gone.

Mark clasped his hands behind his back. "Forgive me, Prince Victor, but I remember about Phelan. He was my idol. I was hurt when he left the Nagelring, but happy at his return to the Kell Hounds. When he was reported killed in what turned out to be the first engagement with the Clans, I was crushed. I took heart, though, because I believed, like so many others, that he had died a hero. Then it turned out he'd become a full-fledged member of the Wolf Clan, had rejected the Kell name, and even become one of their leaders."

Victor shook his head as he noticed several of his bodyguards nodding ever so slightly. "There is no faulting your logic, Mark, but I wonder if you have all the facts."

"Such as?"

Victor smiled at the younger man's fiery enthusiasm. "Well, for one, ComStar has just released the casualty figures for the worlds the Clans have captured. Of all the Clans, the Wolves have been the easiest on the indig population of the worlds they've taken. And they say Phelan captured the planet Gunzburg without a shot being fired."

Mark nodded curtly. "Sure, he wanted to save his troops from being killed."

"More important, Mark, Phelan saved countless lives among a people who had treated him monstrously while the Kell Hounds were trapped on Gunzburg. He could have insisted that the planet be razed. And I'm sure more than one person in the Inner Sphere would have been happy to see Tor Miraborg get his arrogant head handed to him when the Wolf Clan hit Gunzburg."

"You can put me at the top of that list," Morgan said softly, and Victor felt for the dilemma his uncle was in. The Kell Hound commander obviously loved his son, and respected what he had done on Gunzburg and elsewhere, yet Phelan's membership in the Clans had just as obviously compromised that love and respect. I would not like to find myself in Morgan's position, ever. It must be devastating having to choose between family and nation.

Mark frowned as both Victor and Morgan nibbled away at the corners of his argument. "But Phelan is one of their leaders, a so-called Khan. So is Natasha Kerensky, that other traitor."

Victor shook his head. "No. Natasha was always of the Clans. In spirit that may also have been true of Phelan. You've managed to build him up into a monster, though I admit you're not the only one who thinks that way. Many people believe that what Phelan has done is a crime, an act of treason. But for all we know, Phelan's rise to power among the Clans may only reinforce the fact that the Kell Hounds beat the Clans on Luthien and on Teniente. So did my Revenants. The Clans may produce great warriors, but that doesn't mean they produce the greatestwarriors."

Morgan gently squeezed the back of his grandson's neck. "I have been among the Clans, Mark. I've met with Phelan and ilKhan Ulric. Give your uncle a chance."

Outside the waiting area a silvery shimmer lit the sky like a magnesium flare, lighting up the ferrocrete landing area like white moonlight over a placid lake. Little dust clouds billowed up and away from the center of the DropShip as it slowly descended. The ship's ion jets continued to put out millions of pounds of thrust and Victor felt the heat radiating through the windows.

The spherical K-l Class DropShuttle hovered over the ground as its landing gear descended and locked into place barely seconds before touching down. Victor grudgingly admired the pilot, knowing how much daring and skill it took to pull off such a maneuver. Every Clanner I've ever seen displays phenomenal skills. How we managed to even slow them down astounds me.

When the ship finally landed, the docking gantry was rolled into place. Victor saw the huge docking arm move out to cover the door of the craft, then felt the vibration as the arm set itself firmly against the DropShip. From within the docking corridor one of his bodyguards opened the doorway into the reception lounge, then headed down toward the Clan ship.

Victor frowned to discover that his palms were sweating. He wiped his hands surreptitiously against the sides of his navy blue trousers, then pulled at the gray-trimmed cuffs of his jacket. For half a second he wished for a mirror, then snarled at himself for that momentary spark of vanity.

With the frown still on his face, he caught sight of his cousin, the man once known as Phelan Kell, who was now a Khan of the Wolf Clan.

Almost instantly it hit Victor that he'd always resented Phelan for his height, then dismissed the thought as unworthy. Always tall, Phelan seemed also to have bulked out in his time with the Clans. The gray leather uniform hugged his thickly muscled body, and he wore his black hair long, like his father. He did not sport a beard, however, nor did his green eyes glitter with the devilish light Victor remembered. Now they seemed to burn with a deeper fire.

Phelan took everyone in with a glance, then saluted his father.

"Thank you for your invitation to visit, Colonel."

"Thank you for accepting, Khan." Morgan returned the salute, and then opened his arms to embrace his son. Victor found Morgan's acceptance of his son exactly what—if he'd thought about it—he would have expected from the Khan.

After returning his father's embrace, Phelan turned to Victor. "I thank you for permitting this visit, Prince Davion."

Victor nodded, his wariness returning at the cold formality with which Phelan addressed him. "We are happy to honor Colonel Kell's wishes. The Federated Commonwealth owes him much. Despite recent raids originating in Jade Falcon territory, I could not refuse his request to see you."

"One should not be surprised that bandits come from the Jade Falcon area, quiaff?"Phelan hesitated as if wanting to add something. Victor nodded, knowing they would have a chance to discuss the raids later. A smile tugged at the corners of Phelan's mouth as he extended a hand toward Mark. "You have grown quite a bit, Mark. It is good to see you."

Mark made no attempt to take Phelan's hand. "You look well, Uncle, "he said, managing to infuse the word with so much contempt that it sounded like a curse. Victor looked to Phelan for a reaction, but the Khan had not even flinched.

Phelan slowly withdrew his hand, then gestured to the people in the corridor just beyond the room. "Colonel, Highness, nephew, please allow me to present those who accompanied me here."

Phelan took the hand of a tall, slender woman with very short white hair, and brought her forward. She wore gray leathers similar to Khan Phelan's, which made her not at all hard to look at. Her blue eyes might have struck Victor as cold, but the way she looked at Phelan dispelled that impression. She looks at him the way I imagine Omi looking at me.Victor also found something disturbingly familiar about her, but he could not place it.

"This is Star Captain Ranna. She is of the Kerensky bloodline. She is, in fact, Natasha Kerensky's granddaughter. "

Morgan Kell took her hand and kissed it. "It is good to see you again, Ranna."

"And you, Colonel Kell."

Victor nodded a salute to her and she returned it, along with a smile. Mark held himself ramrod-straight and tried to ignore her.

Following her came two others, also wearing Clan leathers. One, apparently a woman, filled the doorway. Victor immediately assumed that the giant woman was an Elemental. Flinging her long braid of red hair back over one shoulder, she studied Victor's bodyguards for a moment. Apparently confident that she had nothing to fear from them, she entered the room.

The man coming up behind her might have been her opposite. Thick blond hair capped a head two sizes too big for his small, slender body. Victor was short, but this man actually stood a couple of centimeters less, which made him tiny by any standard. His physical size and his large green eyes also made him ideal for an aerospace pilot. The grin on his face suggested he was the commander who had so skillfully brought the DropShip in.

"These are Star Captain Evantha Fetladral and Star Captain Carew. He is of the Nygren bloodline. Evantha is an Elemental and Carew is a pilot."

Amid the general exchange of nods and mumbled pleasantries, Mark remained stoically silent. Victor frowned at him, then noticed one final person in the entry way. The man looked taller than the last time they'd met, and, like Phelan, he had also filled out. He did not wear leathers, but rather a dark gray jumpsuit. His blond hair was cropped short, as befitting a MechWarrior.

"Prince Ragnar?" Victor looked hard at the man with whom he had trained on the planet Outreach. "I had heard you'd been taken by the Wolves, but. . ."

Phelan nodded at Ragnar, who responded by extending his right hand to Victor. "Greetings, Prince Victor. It is good to see you again."

Victor took the man's hand and shook it, noting that Ragnar's grip had grown stronger. He also noticed the bracelet of white cord on his wrist and the mechanical note in his voice. "Are you well, Prince Ragnar?"

Ragnar's serious expression lightened, as did his tone. "I am just Ragnar now, Prince Victor. I am a bondsman of the Wolf Clan, though I hope one day to be accepted as a warrior."

"And you shall be, Ragnar." Phelan smiled confidently. "Ragnar served valiantly during the battle for Tukayyid. He was assigned to an evacuation battalion, but actually saw combat when a Com Guard squad raided the area where his hospital stood."

Victor smiled. "That's no surprise. On Outreach Ragnar was always more than game." Victor shook his head.

"Looking at him, and looking at you, Phelan, I am impressed at the loyalty the Clans can inspire in outsiders."

Ranna smiled and squeezed Phelan's hand. "Forgive me, Prince Davion, but neither Phelan nor Ragnar were outsiders once they became bondsmen. Your people equate our bonding with slavery, but that is incorrect. We value all the castes."

"I see. I intended no slight, Star Captain." Victor smiled as charmingly as he could. "I am struck, though, by the changes wrought in both men. It makes me wonder that we ever managed to defeat the Clans."

"You did not defeat us, Victor." Phelan's voice took on an edge that the Prince did not like at all. "We beat ourselves because the ilKhan chose that it be so. Yes, you had your, victories over the Jade Falcons, while the Combine and some elite mercenaries were able to beat the Smoke Jaguars and the Nova Cats. Those were great triumphs for the Inner Sphere, and you have the right to be proud. Even so, to think of the Clans as defeated is an error."

"But ComStar has made a truce." Victor raised his head. "The Clans have agreed not to advance beyond the truce line toward Terra. Having lost the chance to win that objective, your comrades seem also to have lost the ability to coordinate their operations. What happened to the massive invasion, with simultaneous strikes against multiple worlds? Last year my troops dealt handily with the Falcons' invasion of Morges and the Steel Viper strike at Crimond. And this year it seems to be only raids."

"Yes, the ComStar truce has somewhat diluted the single-minded unity among the various Clans. But no matter how well either you or the Draconis Combine are able to repel the limited attacks and raids launched against your worlds above the truce line, the truce will not last forever."

Victor arched an eyebrow. "And?"

"And," the Wolf Khan breathed quietly, "if certain elements of the Clans have their way, neither will the Inner Sphere."

2

Arc-Royal

Federated Commonwealth

13 April 3055

 

Christian Kell reached forward around the headrest of his pilot's command couch and tapped her on the helmet. "Nice landing, Caitlin. Thanks."

"My pleasure," crackled back through the speakers in his helmet. Caitlin hit the release button and the canopy slid back into the body of the aerospace fighter. "I needed to log the hours on this Stingrayanyway. With all the traveling we've been doing, I came close to losing my certification."

As the swept-wing fighter rolled to a slow stop in the Kell Hound hangar, techs began almost immediately to fit aluminum ladders to the sides of the cockpit. Chris mumbled "Arigato, "as he dismounted, then quickly remembered to append the word "thanks." The tech standing at the bottom of the ladder smiled.

"You're welcome, Major. The Old Man wants to see you and Lieutenant Kell pronto. Has your cousin with him."

Chris nodded and removed his helmet. The hangar's cool air soaked through his sweaty black hair and raised goose bumps all over his body. Chris handed the tech his helmet, then gave the man a quick nod. "Thank you, Mr. Hanson. Cait, did you hear that?"

Pulling off her helmet, Caitlin freed a cascade of black hair that splashed over the shoulders of her cooling vest. They looked enough alike, Chris had repeatedly been told, to be more than cousins, though Chris's brown eyes were a marked contrast to the green of Caitlin's. Looking at her, Chris could see the similarities, but having been raised outside the Kell Hound environment, he saw even more the differences.

"Message received," she said with a smile. "I wonder if Colonel Allard is angry about my using a pass around the small moon to decelerate."

Chris shook his head. "I do not know." What I'm wondering is if the cousin mentioned isour cousin, oryour brother.Chris waved Caitlin toward the door into the base facility, then followed behind, still lost in thought. He tried to examine which he would prefer: meeting Victor Davion or Phelan Ward.

He knew Victor from their days in the training cadre on Outreach, where Wolf's Dragoons had tried to teach Inner Sphere warriors the ways of Clan warriors. Both Chris and MacKenzie Wolf had trained Victor and the other sons and daughters of the ruling houses of the Inner Sphere. Victor had showed great promise, and realized far more of it than Chris or Mac—had he lived to see it-would have thought possible. Still, Victor had a prickly attitude that alienated potential allies as much as it bedeviled his enemies.

Phelan was, for Chris, an even trickier proposition. In 3042 Chris had presented himself to his uncle, Morgan Kell, and was acknowledged as Patrick Kell's son. Morgan left the Hounds at that point and brought Chris to the Dragoons' world of Outreach for training. Chris had drilled there for the next three years, then joined the Hounds as a lieutenant in command of a lance.

Before leaving for Outreach and in the brief time before his assignment to the Kell Hounds Second Regiment, Chris had sensed some resentment from Phelan. At first he had put it down to Phelan's rather logical dislike of a newcomer who had as much of a blood claim to the leadership of the Kell Hounds as did Phelan himself. It later occurred to Chris that Phelan's resentment might likely have been due to his fear that Chris would damage the legend of Patrick Kell and the Kell Hounds as a whole by not being able to live up to it.

By the time Chris had proven himself in combat, assuming the leadership of his company after the death of its commander, Phelan had left for the Nagelring. Then came the battle on The Rock, in which Phelan had been believed killed. Chris was pleased for Morgan's sake when he'd learned that Phelan had not died on The Rock, but he was angry to learn that Phelan had gone over to the Clans. Not only were the Clans the greatest threat the Inner Sphere had ever faced, but the invasion had been devastating to the Draconis Combine—the nation of his birth.

Chris still had not decided between Victor Davion and Phelan Ward by the time he reached the briefing office. The huge oak meeting table dominated the far end of the room, making the whole enclosure seem small. Two men had already taken seats opposite each other at the near end of the table and had turned on the lights only at the door-end of the room.

As Chris and Caitlin entered, Lieutenant-Colonel Daniel Allard stood, saluted both pilot and passenger, then also shook hands with each one. "Good to see you both again. Caitlin, so nice of you to buzz the moon base to let us know you were coming."

Caitlin blushed just a bit, and glanced down in mock penitence for a moment, then smiled. "The decel saved some fuel, Colonel."

Dan nodded, a wisp of white hair flopping down over his forehead. "I appreciate that, but I would prefer you kept such tactical details quiet in front of a potential employer. " The Colonel raked his hair back into place with his fingers, then smiled at the other man in the room. "You both remember Prince Victor Steiner-Davion."

"Cousin!" Caitlin stepped forward and embraced Victor as the Prince rose from his chair. Victor returned the hug with a laugh, then released Caitlin and looked at Chris. "Good to see you again, Christian."

Chris bowed formally. "Greetings, Highness."

Victor aped the bow with crisp precision. "Gomen nasal, shitsurei shimashita. "

Chris straightened up, a smile slowly curling up the corners of his mouth. "There is no reason to excuse you, Highness. You have not been rude. I must say, though, that your Japanese has greatly improved."

Victor smiled. "I spent some time with Shin Yodama and Hohiro Kurita after Teniente. Though reluctant, they proved able teachers."

"I was pleased to hear they both survived the Clan war. When Mac and I were training the lot of you, we never dreamed your group would survive intact. Both Ragnar and Kai gave us a scare, but they made it, too."

Dan cut in quickly. "I know you and Caitlin want a chance for some racktime after coming in. Despite your economy measures, the trip must have been exhausting. I just wanted to get you here for a report before I try to sort out base gossip. How does Deia look?"

Chris clasped his hands at the small of his back. "Deia is in good shape. Zimmer's Zouaves were able to bring their 'Mech battalion up to full strength with the supplies we sent them. They've got a great working relationship with the Deia Volunteers and have attached scout lances from the militia to each company. Using a force-in-being strategy, they've scattered supply depots over some of the nastiest territory on the world. Hit by anything this side of a Clan Galaxy on a surprise drop, they'll hold them off for over a month."

"Good." Dan paused, then frowned. "What did they do about Hauptmann Sagetsky?"

Chris smiled. "Kommandant Zimmer sacked him while he was still in the hospital."

"Hospital?" Dan's blue eyes glittered. "What happened?"

Caitlin scowled. "He heard about my birthday before heading out on the inspection tour with Chris. He said he had a present for me."

"You didn't. ..."

"No, Colonel, I didn't." Caitlin let a slow smile light up her face. "He made the remark at a reception and within earshot of his wife. He was drunk at the time, as usual, and she christened him an idiot with a bottle of champagne. Cracked his skull."

Chris nodded. "Kommandant Zimmer agreed that Sagetsky needed to retire. They brought an officer over from the militia to take his place and the Zouaves seemed to welcome the change. Morale was good when we left." The young mercenary officer looked at the Prince. "Your frown betrays concern, Highness."

Victor blinked, then forced a smile. "I do not doubt your report, Major, but I've been wondering about your program of sponsoring these little mercenary units. Your subsidies have been most generous, which, it seems to me, has prompted all sorts of people to create units just to get them."

Chris raised his head. "I am not certain I understand your concern."

"Take these Zimmer's Zouaves, for example, Victor said. I recall seeing a readiness assessment of them– and, granted, it was before your recent trip there—but it said the Zouaves were two parts AgroMech drivers, one part retirees, and one part cashiered officers. Though some of their equipment is very good, I hear they've got two full lances of Locustswhose parts come from more than thirty-five different machines.

"You can't take untrained warriors, stuff them into BattleMechs, and expect them to come out a fighting unit. Officers like Sagetsky will ruin potential warriors in training, and get them killed in combat. I know you have spare equipment and are on a sound financial footing– both because of the Kell family money and with what Justin's Solaris corporation is sending Dan—but I wonder if you aren't wasting money on a hopeless situation. This is, what, the fifth unit you have sponsored this way?"

"Fourth. The Legion of the Rising Sun has instituted a similar policy and has also sponsored a unit." Dan Allard folded his arms and leaned back on the briefing table. "We have been very pleased with the results of the program, in terms of both the military and collateral benefits."

Chris nodded. "The program was based on the work your father started when he created training battalions."

Anger flashed over Victor's face as he waved Chris' comment off. "I do not think you can consider short-term contracts for a rabble the same as a full-fledged training program, can you? Your little battalions do not have the facilities, supplies, and personnel the AFFC can offer."

"True, Highness," Dan countered, "but the training battalions start with raw recruits drawn from a pool of people who have already had 'Mech training of one sort or another. Perhaps you believe that our instructors are inferior because they are retired MechWarriors, but look what good use the Clans make of their old warriors by turning them into instructors for those who are up and coming. I would also point out that citing an officer like Sagetsky as indicative of a trend is a canard. Sagetsky was fired."

Caitlin also wanted to have her say. "We're doing a bit more than just forming a training battalion,Victor. We're giving the people of Deia some security."

"Security? I hardly think Zimmer's Zouaves will be much of a match for the Jade Falcons. I doubt they'd even be able to stop the bandits who hit Kooken's Pleasure Pit and are now apparently in the process of attacking Pa-sig."

Chris frowned but said nothing. He heard in Victor's voice a resistance to what did not conform to his idea of the universe. This did not surprise Chris as much as it disturbed him. Having lived his life on Murchison under the shadow of the powerful Federated Suns, he understood the fear of people on border worlds like Deia. Local organizations like the militia or the yakuza Ryu-no-inu-gumigave those populations a sense of security that let them live on a day-to-day basis with the overwhelming threat they faced purely because of the location of their world.

"But, Prince Victor, their purpose is not to defeatsuch forces. Their job is to tie them up long enough for us to respond." Dan Allard twisted around and sat in his chair. "You and Kai, when facing the Clans, successfully pointed out that in space there are no borders. The key to meeting and defeating an enemy is forcing him to attack you at a point where you are strong."

"Yes, Colonel Allard. That's why we hit Twycross with a huge force. The Zouaves are not that sort of force."

"But they don't have to be. On Tukayyid, the ComStar forces showed that the Clans were not set up to fight long campaigns. The Com Guards strung them out and ground them down. You spotted that situation right off the bat on Trellwan, and the Combine also used it when Hohiro went into hiding on Teniente."

Victor nodded, then leaned forward on the table. "True, but the Clans have also been known to shift their tactics to face a new threat. The Wolves did it."

"Agreed, but the Wolves are not the Jade Falcons, and the Falcons have shown themselves to be one of the more traditional Clans out there. That aside, the key to what we are doing is this: Zimmer's troops can hold a force off for at least a month. It will take us less time than that to mobilize the Kell Hound Regiments and deliver them to Deia. By letting the Zouaves occupy the Clan unit, we pin it in place and then deliver the kind of overwhelming force used on Twycross."

The small Prince nodded, but the concern had not left his expression. "Your strategy is sound. We did the same thing on Morges, where the Skye Rangers and Arcturan Guards stayed alive just long enough for us to get the Dragoons in and smash the Jade Falcon force. But the Kell Hounds are operating without a contract. Deia isn't even in the Donegal March. Morgan would only accept a garrison contract for Tomans, nothing more. Perhaps, when he steps down, you will see the wisdom of having steady employment."

Dan laughed heartily. "Highness, you know the Colonel refused any more contracts because we were in the process of rebuilding. We got hammered on Luthien, and though the Combine permitted us verygenerous salvage rights, putting the unit back together has been a long process. This is yet another reason for sponsoring the smaller units because they have given us some excellent pilots and MechWarriors. If war were a sport, these units would be our farm teams. Perhaps we are ready to accept your contract, but we will only do so when we feel comfortable."

Chris heard the hesitation in Dan's voice that Victor seemed to have missed. How can we make Victor understand that by refusing his sponsorship we get more cooperation from the people of what was once the Lyran Commonwealth? Having Morgan Hasek-Davion as the Marshal of all the armies and Victor's using the Tenth Lyran Guards to free Hohiro Kurita from a deathtrap has created a negative impression here in this part of the Federated Commonwealth. If his mother, the Archon, were not so adept at appeasing Ryan Steiner and not so well-loved among her people—despite the fact that it was her marriage to Hanse Davion that sealed the unification of the two nations—Victor would have serious political troubles here.