Victor almost stepped from the shadows to accept that wager, but Omi raised her hand to stop her brother's words. "And I tell you, Hohiro, that I would be most saddened if either one of you died because of such a bet. You wager far more than gold in this war against the Clans. It is the future of the Inner Sphere that is at stake. Work together as you have here, and we all shall win."
Hohiro gave his sister a short bow of respect, then retreated from the garden. Omi waited for the sound of his footsteps to fade away, then turned back to Victor. "You heard?"
Victor abandoned his shadowy sanctuary. "Yes. I have to go."
"Wait." From around her neck, Omi pulled an oval-shaped piece of bronze on a leather thong. She held it out to Victor. In the half-light he saw Japanese symbols and realized it was a dragon biting its own tail. The center of the bronze had a square hole in it, through which the thong had been looped to let the medallion hang lengthwise, but Omi slipped it off the leather before placing it in Victor's hands.
"This is a swordguard, isn't it?"
"Hai." Omi nodded. "It and a swordsman's skill are all that saves him from an enemy. You have the skills of a warrior, but I want you to have this, too."
"Domo arigato." Victor smiled and slipped it into his pocket. "I will keep it with me." He shrugged helplessly. "I regret that I have nothing to give you."
She reached out and caressed his right cheek. "Give me your promise that you will be safe."
'That is the one thing I cannot promise you," he said.
Her voice returned stronger. "Give me your promise and it will be so."
Victor stepped closer and slipped his arms around her slender waist. "Yes, Omi, I promise."
His mouth found hers, and though their kiss was brief, the warmth of it stayed with Victor long after he had left the garden and Outreach and Omi behind.
26
DropShip Dire Wolf
Nadir Jump Point Engadin, Wolf Clan Occupation Zone
15 October 3051
Phelan Wolf heard a hiss as the ComStar shuttlecraft cracked its hatch. The boxy yellow ship had touched down lightly in a shuttle bay manned by Elementals in their armor. Once the Dire Wolf's hatch was secured, the Techs provided the bay with a breathable atmosphere and Phelan entered through an access port on the deck level.
The shuttle's hatch twisted sideways, then slid into the interior of the ship. A short ramp telescoped out and down, but even before it had touched the deck, the Precentor Martial appeared in the hatchway. Tall enough that he had to dip his white-maned head to get through it, the ComStar envoy steadied himself with a strong grip on either side of the opening. His long white robe was loosely belted at the waist with a piece of white rope. The only other color on him was the black of the patch covering his empty right eye socket.
The Precentor Martial smiled at the sight of Phelan, and the MechWarrior returned the smile heartily. He met the older man at the base of the gangway and offered him his right hand. The Precentor Martial accepted it in both hands and shook it firmly.
"It appears, Phelan Kell, that you have fared well since we said our goodbyes on this very deck."
"That I have, Precentor Martial." Phelan directed two bondsmen to haul Focht's baggage to his room. "I was adopted into the Wolf Clan Warrior caste just after you left. I am known as Phelan Wolf."
Focht bowed his head. "Please excuse my ignorance and accept my congratulations. If I remember the symbolism correctly, the red star patch on your shoulder means you are a MechWarrior as well?"
The younger man nodded. "For about three months now. This black and red jumpsuit is the uniform of my regiment. Officially, we are the Thirteenth Wolf Guards, otherwise known as the Wolf Spiders."
"And led by Natasha Kerensky herself."
Phelan chuckled lightly. "You don't miss a trick, do you?"
"ComStar knows all." Focht smiled enough for Phelan to know he was making a joke, but the young MechWarrior suspected the statement was not far from the mark. "Natasha's passage from Outreach was noted by some of our waystations, so we assumed she had made contact with the Clans. We took that as confirmation that the Dragoons were once part of the Clans, though that alliance no longer appears to be in force."
"I believe the history is correct, but I do not know the Dragoons' current status." Phelan waved the Precentor Martial toward the exit port. "As much as I am enjoying talking with you and look forward to another such opportunity, the ilKhan has asked me to escort you to him immediately upon your arrival. If you don't mind."
"Not at all." Focht adjusted the patch over his right eye. "I am most pleased to see you have been made a MechWarrior." His voice dropped to a discreet whisper. "It should make it much easier to gather information, as we discussed a year ago."
Phelan chewed his lower lip. "I know I agreed to spy for you, but that was before. Much has happened since then. I am afraid I cannot betray the Clans."
Focht looked surprised. "Cannot? Phelan, these people are still attacking your home."
The MechWarrior shook his head. "These people are now my people, and this is my home."
"I see." Focht looked hard at Phelan, who felt as though he were being x-rayed. "I should have expected this. Converts are always more zealous than someone born to a cause."
"As well you would know, Precentor." Phelan's face closed up. "Before I was thrown out of the Nagelring, I do not recall seeing any ComStar initiates studying there. That means you had a life before ComStar, which makes you, too, a convert."
They continued down the corridor in silence until they reached an elevator tube. Focht broke the silence. "Even as a convert to ComStar, I have been willing to bend the rules, for a friend."
Phelan's head snapped around. "You sent my parents a message about me?" He felt his pulse begin to pound as images of his family and friends began to float before his inner eye. Then and there he realized no matter how fully he accepted the Clans as his new family and friends, he could never let go of the people he had known before. This concern for both sides is what the ilKhan wants from me. Natasha and I both have loyalties to the Clans and to the Inner Sphere. Are we here to temper the Clans in their fight?
Focht waited until they had entered the elevator and Phelan had it moving toward the bridge. "The Primus forbade me to tell your family anything about you, so I tried to get around it by sending a kind of coded message to your father. I used a famous quote by the ancient writer Mark Twain about the exaggerated reports of his death, hoping he'd be able to puzzle it out eventually. But that was the best I could do."
"Thank you." Phelan picked distractedly at a fingernail. "But I know nothing of importance to tell you, Precentor. Natasha is a Khan of the Wolves and Ulric's election as ilKhan was not without surprises. His enemies agreed to elect him ilKhan, believing they could manipulate him, but he quickly set them straight. As for his invasion plans, he has confided nothing to me."
"Ulric is a very wise man. I have no doubt that whatever he has planned for the Inner Sphere will be most challenging.
The elevator stopped and the door opened onto a darkened corridor. Phelan led the way toward the bridge, remembering this same scene nearly a year before when the ship had been damaged in a battle. He looked at the Precentor Martial over his shoulder. "You know, running to the bridge after the Rasalhague ship hit us, I never believed we would find anyone alive."
Focht half-closed his good eye. "If not for your quick thinking and that tool you had created to open the lock, no one would have survived."
"Funny how things work out, isn't it?"
"The irony of the universe has not escaped me."
The two Elementals standing on either side of the hatch to the bridge gave no clue that they saw or cared about Phelan conducting the Precentor Martial in to see the ilKhan. Manning the various stations on the bridge were some two score crew members. Despite their brand new equipment and the routine way they seemed to go about their tasks, Phelan felt a shiver down his spine. His eyes flew up to where a catas
trophic hole had been ripped in the hull, but nothing remained to show it had ever been there.
He guided Focht forward to a central area enclosed by a circular palisade of black panels. Slipping into the holotank through one of the four openings, they came immediately into the midst of a holographic space map. Star pinpoints large and small burned brightly, and the names of many were identified by floating labels.
At the heart of the galaxy, Ulric stood talking with Natasha Kerensky. He looked up and smiled at Focht, but waited until Natasha had finished speaking before he moved to welcome his guest. The look of pleasure on Ulric's face was in stark antithesis to Natasha's dark expression.
The ilKhan offered the Precentor Martial his right hand. "I am most pleased your Primus has sent you to us again."
Focht shook Ulric's hand heartily. "And I am happy to return. The Primus asks me to advise you that ComStar offers all the support at its disposal."
"Excellent." Ulric half-turned and waved Natasha forward. 'This is Natasha Kerensky, formerly of the Wolf Dragoons."
"And now in command of the Thirteenth Wolf Guards." Focht took her right hand and kissed it. "You are even more beautiful than I remember, Colonel Kerensky."
Natasha's expression turned arctic with suspicion. "We've met before?"
The Precentor Martial shrugged. "It was a lifetime ago. You'd not remember me, for I was but one of many warriors who dreaded fighting against your Black Widows but dreamed of fighting with them."
Natasha withdrew her hand from his. "And I thought ComStar's Precentor Martial would be nothing more than a eunuch in a seraglio. You have charm and wit, yet are modest. A most dangerous combination, indeed."
Focht raised his hands in protest. "I am not here as an enemy, Colonel. I am here to help."
"That is a very good thing, Precentor," said Ulric, taking control of the conversation, "because our strategy has shifted." The ilKhan reached out to touch the glowing dot at the end of one star's name tag. Instandy, the label expanded to become a scrolling window of data. From where Phelan stood, he only saw the letters in reverse through the body of the translucent computer projection. That hardly mattered, for he'd studied enough world reports to know it was providing as timely information as the Clans had about the military forces on that planet.
"I will need you to provide very accurate and up-to-date information on the worlds we choose to hit. Instead of continuing to roll forward like a blanket, we are going to cherry-pick worlds. We will target the most heavily defended worlds in a sector, bypassing and cutting off lesser worlds. We hope that when the key worlds fall, the disruptive elements of the bypassed worlds will flee, allowing us to scoop up those planets with little or no struggle."
Focht nodded thoughtfully. "Getting the data should present no problem at all, provided you can give me a list of worlds you want to hit within two weeks of your attack. I do not need that much time to gather the information, you understand, but it gives my people the lead time to prepare for the aftermath of your invasion and the period of pacification."
"Fine." Ulric positioned his hand at the bottom of the window and pushed up. The computer sucked the data window back up into the label. "We want to force the Inner Sphere militaries to concentrate their forces, which should stop their attacks on worlds behind the lines. It will also be more of a challenge for our forces. With the addition of three more Clans to bolster those that have not fared as well as the Wolves, we must provide opportunities for glory in battle."
"Then the suggestion I had in mind might not be welcome."
"Speak freely. Nothing is forged of titanium as of yet."
The Precentor Martial pointed to a relatively minor world. "I thought it might be possible to use the offices of ComStar to negotiate the surrender of worlds you do not attack. This places us as a buffer between you and the populace, making implementation of pacification policies all the easier. If the negotiations fall through, you can still hit the world with whatever force you choose."
"A kind of 'carrot and PPC approach to world conquest, eh, Precentor?"
"A most interesting turn of phrase, Colonel Kerensky." Focht clasped his hands behind his back. "I offer this idea merely with the thought of speeding your ability to secure your rear area. Politicians are not warriors. They often gladly give away what an army could not take in a millennia."
Ulric laughed politely. "Point well-taken, Precentor, and one spoken like a warrior. To call a politician untrustworthy is redundant, and to call one honest is a contradiction in terms. However, anyone who is aware of how the politics of a situation might affect him can sail through the obstacles."
"Good charts, strong ships, and a sextant have made it possible to weather more than one storm," Focht said amiably. "If you do not mind, I would welcome a chance to rest a bit before we continue."
"A splendid idea. Natasha and I have some things to discuss before we can decide on potential targets." Ulric escorted the Precentor Martial to the edge of the holotank. "Phelan will take you to your cabin. We can meet later for dinner. In say, four hours. We should be prepared to give you the names of some worlds for study by then."
Focht bowed his head. "I am your humble servant, ilKhan Ulric. The Peace of Blake be with you."
27
Unity Palace, Imperial City, Luthien
Kagoshima Prefecture, Draconis Combine
30 October 3051
Shin Yodama concentrated so hard on the holographic display of the battle data that he did not hear her enter the room. The first clue that he was no longer alone was a flash of white he saw out the corner of his eye. Thinking it another messenger, he turned, his expression became a scowl of irritation, then quickly bowed his head.
"Sumimasen, Kurita Omi-san. Forgive me. I had not expected to see you here."
Omi smiled forgiveness. "It is I who must apologize for disturbing you, Yodama-san."
Shin glanced over to the desk where Hohiro normally worked. "Your brother is not here right now. The doctors wanted to check his leg to make certain the osteomylitis had been contained after the injury on Turtle Bay. They say it's routine."
"I know." She pulled the chair from her brother's desk and slid it over beside Shin. "But it is you I have come to see. No one else can answer my questions. My father is far too busy and Hohiro refused to acknowledge my interest in military matters. It is presumptuous of me, but I am sure neither my father nor my brother would object to my discussing my question with you."
Shin began to feel uneasy. "Though I cannot imagine refusing any request you would make of me, Lady Omi, I am reluctant to place myself in any path opposed to your father's or brother's wrath."
"I assure you, Yodama-san, that they have not forbidden my interest. Rather, they have neither the time nor inclination to indulge it." The holographic display covered the right side of her face with glowing green and red neon lines and symbols. "I merely require some general information so I may do my part to help control rumors."
Shin straightened himself up at his desk. "What is it you wish to know?"
Omi went straight to the point. "Have the Clans resumed their attacks?"
Shin's fingers flicked across the keyboard and summoned up a projection map of the Draconis Combine. Roughly triangular in shape, a sizable chunk had been sliced out of its left side. The conquered worlds occupied a green zone on the map, while the rest of the Combine appeared in red. Where the two colors met, one world burned with a golden light.
"That is Marshdale. So far, this is the only world the Clans have attacked in renewing the invasion. That is odd because Marshdale is the most heavily defended world in that section of the Combine. Hyner, Byersville, and LaBrea are virtually naked in terms of military forces."
Omi frowned. "Could it be that they have decided to be more cautious because of the defeat on Wolcott?"
Shin conceded her point with a nod. "Possibly, but something about it strikes me the wrong way. On Turtle Bay, the Clans did nothing I would class as cautious. What's more,
we now face the Clan known as the Smoke Jaguars as well as another one calling itself the Nova Cats. With reinforcements, I would have expected an increase in hostilities, not a reduction."
"Are the Smoke Jaguars and Nova Cats working together, or do they work independently, as did the Smoke Jaguars and the Ghost Bears in the initial invasion?"
"I am not certain." Shin typed a request into the computer and it exchanged the stellar map for a projection map of Marshdale. The planet first appeared as a sphere, then the ball split and flattened out. A number of red dots glowed on the six continents to mark battles, most of them occurring next to the gold dots pinpointing cities.
"The Smoke Jaguars have landed on three of the continents, and the Nova Cats have landed on the other three. Though our sources report radio intercepts of information exchanges between the two commands, they've seen nothing even close to combined operations. In fact, the Nova Cats have allowed two regiments to escape to Smoke Jaguar continents, and as nearly as we can make out, have made no attempts to follow. All our information is almost three days old."
"ComStar is not permitting our forces to send out messages?"
"No."
Omi pulled her kimono tightly closed at her throat. "So the only information we have comes through these mysterious Black Boxes that Hanse Davion does not realize we have?"
Shin was not quick enough to veil the look of surprise on his face. "I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Lady Omi."
"Forgive me, Yodama-^an." Her eyes closed halfway in a look of innocence that Shin knew to be utterly synthetic. "I assumed you knew we had captured one toward the end of the Fourth Succession War. We used the information it gave us to great advantage in the '39 war and were able to monitor much of the Federated Commonwealth's action against the Clans because of the copies we had made. I was unaware, however, that my father had actually authorized distribution of the machines."
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