Natural Selection

by Michael A. Stackpole

  One woman, a Kell Hound company commander, was using her hands to indicate the relative positions of 'Mechs as she recounted a fight. ". . .So there the Colonel was, standing alone on the hilltop. The Nova Cats kept coming at him, but they never even got close. I was in my Blackjack, hanging back where the Colonel had placed us. I popped them with my autocannons as they came in, then burned them down with my medium lasers. There was this one Clan moron who had been strafed, leaving the whole right torso of his 'Mech open. He cruised right past me and I went internal on him with all my shots."

  As she spoke, the Inner Sphere warriors gathered around her chuckled and nodded sagely. Most of the warriors were from the Kell Hounds, but Victor saw a scattering of other units represented, including the Fourth Donegal Guards and a half-dozen militia units from worlds where the Hounds had pulled garrison duty. The Tenth Lyran Guards, as represented by Victor, had seen the most action against the Clans, but the majority of those present had also tangled with the Clans at one point or another.

  Arrayed against all these warriors, Phelan and Ragnar stood alone at the circle's edge. Phelan again wore his gray leathers, plus a long gray cloak whose shoulders were covered in fur that could only be that of a wolf. Standing beside him was Ragnar, wearing the bondcord on his right wrist and dressed in a gray jumpsuit. He held an elaborate wolf's-head mask that looked as though it was made from enamel.

  The dark-haired Kell Hound nodded her head. "Yeah, we kicked Clan butt on Luthien that day." She grinned around at her comrades, then glanced up at Phelan with a look of challenge.

  "I have no doubt you did, Captain Moran," he said evenly. "I recall the day your father turned the Blackjack over to you, saying he hoped it would do as much for you as it had for him. You are to be commended for your action." Phelan inclined his head toward her in a silent salute, yet the smile on his face still made him look superior.

  Victor frowned. The old Phelan would have fought back. The Clans have matured him, but not changed him so thoroughly that he can't help being smug.

  Michelle Moran looked puzzled. "I hadn't thought a Clanner—especially one of their leaders—was the type to admit defeat so easily."

  "Defeat?" Phelan shook his head, and would have appeared calm if Victor had not noted the tightened flesh around his eyes. "You would expect me to dispute what you have said? The Smoke Jaguars and Nova Cats have been reluctant to share the battle ROMs from the Luthien debacle, so I have not seen them. But what you describe rings true. Those Clans were defeated without taking Luthien. That is truth. That is fact."

  "The whipping ComStar gave you on Tukayyid is likewise fact," Moran countered in a voice loud enough to attract some attention. Victor saw Star Captain Ranna look over from her conversation with Phelan's parents, but a slight shake of the head from Phelan apparently satisfied her concern. He saw no other Clansfolk in the room, but did see several other MechWarriors join the circle.

  Victor turned and whispered to Galen. "Why is the name Moran so familiar?"

  "The Twelfth Donegal Guards, sir. We lost Damien Moran. They may have been related."

  The image of Damien's smiling face came back to Victor. He'd not known the young man before the Jade Falcons hit Trellwan, but he'd learned all about him after being forced to evacuate that planet. As with all the other warriors who had given their lives so he could escape the Clan trap, Victor had memorized the man's face and service record. "Yes, he was from Arc-Royal. I should have seen the resemblance earlier. Thanks."

  Phelan nodded slowly. "It is a fact that ComStar won the battle for Tukayyid. They bargained well and when all was done, they were the victors. I would point out, however, that the Wolves gained their objectives. I would also note that the ComStar victory won only a truce, not a war."

  "But you Clanners were beaten."

  "Captain Moran, you do not seem to understand that it is folly to lump all the Clans together."

  Michelle glared at Phelan, but he said nothing more. "What is that supposed to mean, Khan Phelan?"

  Phelan glanced at Ragnar and the bondsman cracked a bit of a smile. With a bow of his head to Phelan, Ragnar then turned to face Michelle Moran. "What Khan Ward means, Captain, is that lumping the Clans together is as foolish as suggesting that all parts of the Inner Sphere be treated as a single group. You and the Kell Hounds are Steiner loyalists with a long history of opposing the Draconis Combine. Prince Davion here is heir to both the Steiner and Davion thrones, yet he and his Revenants traveled to the Combine to rescue Theodore Kurita's heir from the Nova Cats."

  Ragnar pointed to a man in the uniform of the Morges Militia. "You come from the last of the Tamar worlds in the Federated Commonwealth, so your loyalties lie with Ryan Steiner. He and his Skye separatists are known to be in opposition to Prince Victor and the Davion domination of the Federated Commonwealth. The Inner Sphere, as a lump, also includes the Draconis Combine, the Free Worlds League, the Capellan Confederation, the St. Ives Compact, and what little remains of the Free Rasalhague Republic. All of these have different goals and different means for achieving them."

  "What, then, is your point, Ragnar?" Victor let a predatory smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "Must we think less of what we have done to hold the Clans back because it was the Jade Falcons or the Smoke Jaguars we defeated and not the Wolf Clan?"

  Phelan rested a hand on Ragnar's shoulder. "Ragnar's point is this, Prince Victor: attempting to pillory a member of the Wolf Clan with your victories over other Clans is useless."

  "Then you, of the Wolf Clan consider our victories inconsequential?"

  "No, cousin, we do not. We applaud them." Phelan looked around at the Kell Hounds. "You cannot know the pride I felt when I heard that the Kell Hounds had been part of the force that stopped the Smoke Jaguars. When I was called upon by the ilKhan to argue in the Grand Council in favor of abiding by the bargain struck with ComStar, I pointed to your victory. I used Prince Victor's stunning raid on Teniente and Kai Allard-Liao's exploits as yet more examples of what the Inner Sphere could do. Those achievements, when brought forward, made the Clan Khans pause to consider the wisdom of pressing the invasion.

  "And do not doubt, not for a moment, that some of the Clans want to continue the war, now. Just as Ryan and you, Victor, can differ on what should be the course for the future, so the Clans have their factions. The Crusader faction wishes to conquer the whole of the Inner Sphere. The Warden faction believes that is not the vision General Kerensky had for the Clans. It is your good fortune that the ilKhan and the Khans of the Wolves are all Wardens who want to protect the Inner Sphere. Were we not, this would be a wake and not a celebration."

  Michelle Moran shook her head. "If what you have done is supposed to be protecting the Inner Sphere, I don't think having Crusaders coming through would be much worse. And I'm not overly certain I want my victories touted by a Clan that managed to kick the weak legs out from under a fledgling nation, then pulverize a bunch of pacifists. Why, the Wolf Clan didn't even enter the fight for Tukayyid until a week after the other Clans had softened up the world for you."

  Victor saw fire spark in Phelan's eyes. "Captain Moran, do not even hint at cowardice within the Wolf Clan. Our delayed entry into the battle for Tukayyid came as part of a bargain forced upon us by the other Clans. The Precentor Martial held back his best troops for us and we beat them."

  "So you say, Khan Phelan, but there is no proof of that." Michelle Moran folded her arms across her chest. "ComStar's history of the battle could easily be one big political whitewash to maintain the truce." Her face darkened. "After all, Khan Phelan, one has to wonder at the skill of the warriors in a Clan where a man expelled from the Nagelring can rise to leadership inside three years."

  Victor saw Phelan begin to tremble with anger, but marveled at how he brought it under control. "Were you of the Clans, Captain Moran, we would settle this difference in a Circle of Equals. You have made a mistake, but I dismiss it because you do not know our ways."

  Moran shrugged.
"Talk is cheap."

  "I will not have the blood of one of my father's officers on my hands."

  Victor smiled. "Why spill blood? I think Captain Moran would like to test how good you Wolves really are. The Kell Hounds have simulator facilities."

  Phelan smiled with real pleasure. "Very well. I will take a Star of BattleMechs against whatever you wish to offer."

  "Captain Moran, you have a company?" Victor smiled when she nodded. "I will add a command lance to it, if that is permitted. That would put us sixteen on your five, if that is acceptable, Khan Ward."

  Phelan nodded. "I will require two pilots to join Ranna, Ragnar, and me in our Star. If you will allow it, Prince Victor, I would take your Galen Cox and my cousin Mark as the other two pilots."

  Victor nodded. "Done."

  Phelan nodded. "Bargained well and done."

  Victor smiled. "Now all I need do is find three pilots to fill out my lance."

  "Make that only one more, Victor, if you'll have the two of us."

  Victor turned at the sound of the familiar voice and he smiled. "Bargained very well and done." He glanced at Phelan and nodded. "These two, Khan Ward, will do splendidly. Khan, let me present Chu-sa Shin Yodama of the Draconis Combine and the current champion of Solaris, Kai Allard-Liao."

  6

  Arc-Royal

  Federated Commonwealth

  15 April 3055

  "What do you mean I'm acting like Vlad?" Phelan whipped off his cloak and tossed it over the back of a chair. "Ranna, if Vlad were here, he would be insulting people and picking fights."

  Ranna folded her arms across her chest and arched an eyebrow at him.

  Phelan winced. "You can't count this little simulator battle I've set up for tomorrow. There was no way out of that fight. Moran was waiting for me on that one." He shook his head. "How can you think I'm like Vlad? He's arrogant, insensitive, annoying, obtuse, and worships the ground on which Crusaders like Conal Ward walk. I'm not like that at all."

  "Not right now, you are not." A smile softened Ranna's expression as she removed her cloak. "Right now you are being yourself. You are talking with contractions and you are letting your emotions vent through your words. Out there, at that reception for the guests arriving for your father's retirement celebration, you were stiff and unnatural. As your sister put it, you needed to 'loosen up.' "

  Phelan opened his mouth, but shut it before words came out. Is that how I've been? A quick mental review of the party's high points brought a flush to his cheeks. "Accepting—for the sake of argument only—that there is some validity to what you have said, how bad was I?"

  "For the sake of argument, not as bad as Vlad would have been, my love. But you have angered your sister by not choosing her to fight with your Star. She was offended that you selected your nephew over her."

  "But Caitlin's a pilot. We were bidding in Stars of 'Mechs."

  "I know that and I explained that to her. It would have been more politic to have chosen your cousin Chris or your father instead of Galen Cox to fill out your Star." Ranna sat down on the white leather couch that dominated the suite's living room. "I know your father did not take offense at having been left out, and I believe Christian would have been uneasy had you chosen him, but I think the Kell Hounds consider it a sign of contempt that you chose a Revenant and a half-trained boy to hold off one of their companies."

  Phelan shook his head and also settled down on the couch. "But the Revenants fought well against the Nova Cats. I thought I was honoring them by choosing Galen."

  "That you might have been, Phelan, but did you not sense the unease when the subject of the Revenants came up?"

  "Huh?"

  Ranna smiled and drew her legs up on the cushions. "Apparently not. The fact that Prince Victor and his people rescued the heir to Theodore Kurita is not particularly popular. People appreciate the bravery it took to accomplish the deed, but many think Victor has been bewitched by a Kurita sorceress named Omi."

  Phelan nodded as he pulled off his boots. "Omi is Theodore's daughter. I've heard all the stories that she and Victor fell in love during the time spent training on Outreach." His boots flew across the room and landed next to where Ranna had stepped out of hers. "That cannot be, of course. Victor and Omi come from Houses that are mortal enemies. Such a love is impossible."

  Ranna kicked Phelan playfully. "Is it? More so than a warrior and a bondsman falling in love?"

  As her foot flicked out again, Phelan caught her ankle and kissed it. "As always, Ranna, you know far better than I what is possible and impossible."

  "Had I visited this place before you won your Blood-name and became a Khan, I would have said it was impossible for this environment to produce a warrior such as you."

  "Why?" Phelan allowed himself a wry grin. "The Hounds may not be Wolf's Dragoons and Arc-Royal may not be Outreach, but the Kell Hounds were always considered one of the top mercenary units in the Inner Sphere."

  "As you have said on more than one occasion, my love." Ranna reached out with her right leg and tickled his stomach with her toes. "It is just that this place is so different from the kind of sibko in which I grew up. The caretakers assigned to us were very conscientious about their jobs, but they never showed us the degree of love and affection that your parents show you. I see it in your mother's eyes and hear it in your father's voice. It is why they try to accept me and my place in your life."

  Ranna's voice dropped off. Phelan squeezed her knee gently. "Yes, this is much different than the way the Clans select their warriors even before birth. Your very genetic makeup is determined according to the past performance of your sires, the way thoroughbred bloodlines are maintained to produce great racing horses. You are raised in a sibko and constantly tested to winnow out the losers in the genetic lottery. You are focused on attaining the goal of becoming a warrior—an admirable goal, yes— but your training and testing almost preclude the development of strong interpersonal attachments."

  "It is something more than that, Phelan." Ranna frowned. "In the sibko everyone watches for errors and failures. They plot ways to test for weaknesses. Everything is designed to maximize the potential for failure. If one of our blood kin dies, it casts aspersion on both the bloodline and the individual.

  "Here, though, the opposite seems true. I went to the cemetery where you bury and honor your dead. The Kell Hounds provide housing and schooling for the dependents of those who have died in battle. They do things for the offspring of the fallen that the Clans would never consider because of the stigma of failure those offspring bear."

  Ranna's teeth raked across her lower lip. "The Hounds' attitude is so alien to me. Though most of those I have met obviously consider you a traitor, they still admire your willingness to engage in a simulator battle. They want to hate you, yet are willing to grant you respect. They want to integrate the person you are now with what they remember of you from before your capture."

  "You're right, and I want them to be able to do that." Phelan sighed heavily and shook his head. "That's why I chose Mark to be in my Star. As a boy he was always a bit of an annoyance because he followed me around a lot. When I left for the Nagelring, I promised to keep a slot open for him in whatever lance I ended up commanding. I knew I'd face resentment when I came here, but it hurts having it come from a member of the family. " He looked over at her. "You're not getting the same sort of thing from him are you, quineg?"

  Ranna shook her head, suppressing a yawn with her fist. "No, not at all. In fact, your family has been more than friendly to me." Ranna plucked at her leather uniform skirt. "In fact, Caitlin suggested that this uniform was hardly suitable for the banquet and has offered to take me shopping tomorrow after this battle you have arranged. I told her I would think it over, though I do not understand what is wrong with my present kit."

  "I think that you should go, Ranna. Steiner royalty has always placed an inordinate value on high fashion, even for its military officers. We should attempt to respect their customs. "


  "Fine. I will suggest to Evantha Fetladral that she also attempt to honor these customs."

  Visions of the two-and-a-half meter tall Elemental being loaded down with boxes after an expedition to the shops of Old Connaught flicked through Phelan's mind. Smiling at the thought, he patted Ranna on the leg. "Tomorrow we will shoot up their 'Mechs, then you'll be free."

  Ranna looked warily at Phelan. "I gather you assume we will defeat them?"

  "Your question borders on treason, Star Captain."

  "Does it? Apparently you underestimate our foes. Captain Moran's company may be only medium weight, but they pack mostly missile boats. Besides that, they have already fought against the Nova Cats and Smoke Jaguars, so they are familiar with our tactics and equipment."

  "Michelle Moran does not worry me. She is, and always has been, a tenacious fighter, but she never withdraws from a fight until a bit too late. She believes that one more exchange will win the day, and it tends to cost her."

  Ranna mulled that fact over for a moment, then nodded. "What about Prince Victor? He and Shin Yodama were both on Teniente."

  "I expect Galen Cox to give me the measure of Yodama. As for Victor, well, getting his goat was never much of a problem when we were children. Once Victor is angry, he stops thinking at all. You can take him easily."

  Ranna bowed her head. "My Khan is so gracious." She slipped her leg off the top of his, eluding his attempt to grab and tickle her foot. "What of Kai Allard-Liao? Even if what we heard from the Jade Falcons has been grossly exaggerated, his position as the reigning champion on Solaris does suggest that he is a foe more than worthy of respect."

  Phelan nodded slowly. "It's odd, but when I was a child I heard lots of speculation about who would have won in a battle between my father and Kai's father. Justin Allard had also been the Solaris champion, and my father, well, he is a very rare pilot indeed. Someone once did a computer projection of the battle, arranging it under Solaris-type conditions."