Chapter 14

Akela looked up from his book as he heard what had become an increasingly familiar set of footsteps approaching him, crunching through the snow. "Good evening, Marcus," he said quietly, as he looked out over to cliff to the white, sparkling plain that sloped away from him below.

It was indeed a nice evening. The temperature was just right—cool enough for snow, but not bitingly cold. Various birds chirruped and chattered in the trees, and a sweet smell lingered from the thick stand over evergreen trees nearby. It reminded him quite a bit of the Strana Mechty forests that were so familiar to him, though even in its winter, Oliver was not nearly so cold as the Clan capital.

"What's good about it?" Marcus griped, obviously not so appreciative of his surroundings as the Clansman. "We've been on this ice ball for two weeks now, and Fred still hasn't shown up."

"Patience," he admonished, as he looked out over the plain. The setting sun cast a red glow on the spaceport below, reminding him of Castor. He had not stopped thinking about that encounter. For days after the fact, he had been kicking himself for allowing Randi to escape him. He had been so close, only to let her slip away. The two empty weeks on Oliver had, however, given him a clearer perspective on the matter. He now realized that it really was best that he did lose track of his sibkin.

He admitted to himself that he would not have known quite what to do if he had caught up to her. Any attempt to confront Randi in the bazaar would have gone poorly but his actions then had been largely reaction, instead of clear planning. With this in mind, he had begun to reexamine his strategy for increased flexibility and fluidity, and ultimately developed a much more refined plan.

"Patience? Ha, you don't act like you want yer girlfriend back too badly," said Marcus, shivering a little as the chill set in on him.

"Do not confuse lack of action for lack of motivation," Akela said. "Listen, I have a new strategy... Less shooting, more talking."

"Eh? What're you planning?"

The Star Captain smiled. "The plan is simple... I will deal with Fred and Randi, and you will provide support."

Marcus frowned sternly. "Support? I've got a Dragon, not a friggin' Yeoman. What the 'ell do you mean you're gonna 'deal with' those two, anyway? You've only got a Puma! I know that's Clantech—lucky dog—but it ain't gonna win you a fight." He then muttered something almost under his breath about spoiled rich kids.

Akela sighed and returned to reading. "I mean exactly what I said."

"But—"

"I'll handle it," he reiterated. "Just be ready with your 'Mech when I need you."

Randi yawned tiredly as the chiming of her alarm stirred her from a cozy sleep. After spending all of the previous day unloading supplies from the DropShip—in a mild but very cold snowstorm—she had been extremely relieved to retire to a warm bed. Though Quickscell had given them little help in unloading, they had at least prepared a residence building for the mercenaries. It certainly was not a luxury apartment, but it was clean and well-maintained if a little sparse. Most of all, though, it was neither drafty nor cold.

Quikscell had also provided some basic winter-weather gear to them: boots, gloves, goggles, and thick coats. The more important provisions of maps, satellite data, and security details had all been worked out previously, and there was nothing left but to begin active duty.

Knowing that today was a day that required waking at a decent hour, Randi sat up reluctantly and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She yawned again as she slid out of bed and started to dress. Though she was still a little tired from the pack mule work yesterday, she was also glad to be returning to the field. The last couple of months had been pretty slow and pretty quiet, which was in a way, rather good but also rather boring.

Today, though, there was no cause for worry. They were beginning a new contract, Nyx was in good repair (though lacking a few weapons systems), and from the delicious smells wafting in from the kitchen, it seemed that somebody was making pancakes. She smiled as she rolled out the stiffness in her shoulders and walked still barefoot down to the kitchen.

"Hm. So," she could heard Fred saying, "do you happen to cook?"

Pulling her hair back into a ponytail, she barely heard a light grunt of, "No," that came in reply to Fred's question.

"Too bad. I was hoping somebody around here would know how to make ropa veja, y'know? But it's all bratwurst and wiener schnitzel with the Lyrans," Fred grumbled. Then more cheerfully, he queried, "More syrup?"

Randi slowed a little. That second voice seemed familiar. Then again, it was probably just paranoia more than real familiarity. She shrugged and rounded the corner.

"Oh! Randi!" Fred greeted her happily. "I wondered when you were gonna get outta bed and help me eat these pancakes," he said with a chuckle.

Across from Fred was a tall brunet man sitting with his back to her, and leaning a bit over the table as he ate. Randi looked from her friend to the stranger and then slowly leaned to the side a bit, trying to get a look at his face. 'Is that...? It...cannot be...' she thought, fusing her brow a little.

The man laid his silverware down and sat up straight, then turned, draping one arm over the back of his chair. "Good morning," he said with a genteel smile as he looked up at her.

She stumbled back with a gasp, eye wide, and quickly grabbed the edge of the counter to balance herself. The first thing that raced, bleeding through her brain was quite distressing, for she could have sworn that this stranger was the murdered Ulric Kerensky. He looked so like the dead Khan, though much younger than she had ever seen the man.

In the split seconds it took to regain her balance, however, her brain reexamined the information. This was not Ulric's ghost here to haunt her for her disgrace and enjoy some pancakes. No, the situation was far, far worse.

"This is our new tac officer," said Fred, "Akela Kerr."

The said party smiled cheerily, his amber eyes showing nothing but calm. Randi scowled in return and brushed herself off quickly. "You!" she said, pointing an accusing finger at him. "What are you doing here?"

He stood, now looking down at her from a good several centimeters. "Trying to find some work," he replied calmly. "Commander Acosta was kind enough to invite me to breakfast while we discussed the matter of my employment."

She just looked back at him with a hard, critical gaze. Akela stood with a rather nonchalant stance, not at all like the commanding and proper Warrior posture she knew him to normally keep, nor was he wearing anything particularly striking—just a simple pair of blue jeans and a tee shirt with a slightly worn vest. His hair was no longer shaved at the temples in the standard MechWarrior cut, but a medium length, even all the way around if a bit mussy. He had not changed a great deal in the nearly three years since she last saw him, except for these superficial aspects.

As she eyed him, she slid her hand up along his jaw line over the short beard he now sported; he had always been clean-shaven before. Now, she knew who the man at the bazaar was—the facial hair had simply thrown her off. "What is this?" she asked, giving his beard a rough tug.

Akela winced, then pushed her hand away lightly and rubbed his chin. "It is a goatee," he replied, frowning as he stated the obvious.

"It makes you look..."

"Like him?" He chuckled and slid his hands into his pockets with a shrug. He lowered his voice a bit and gave her a sly grin, much like an ornery child. "You should have seen Helina's face the first time I walked into her office like this. I cannot remember how many times that day she called me Ulric by mistake."

At another time, Randi might have laughed at the thought of seeing the Star Colonel so dumbfounded. Right now, however, she was too preoccupied for what rusty sense of humor she had to function. She pushed past Akela and walked over to Fred, who was setting his plates in the sink. She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him after her out into the hall.

"Hey, what's the matter?" he asked, freeing himself from her grip.

Randi peered back around the corner into the dining room. Akela now stood at the sink, oblivious to her. He was actually washing the dishes, a Laborer task.

Something was definitely wrong here.

"I do not like this," she said returning her gaze to Fred. "Do you know who that is?"

"Well, he said his name was—"

She sighed in frustration. "Obviously not," she muttered. "Akela... He is my sibkin."

"Oh, so he's—um, pardon the analogy—your brother?"

That sent a bit of a sickening shiver through her, but she knew Fred did not mean the term as insult or offense. She nodded. "Yes, he was one of the few who graduated with me," she said. "That is why you must get rid of him—now."

"Hm, y'know, I wouldn't have pegged him for a Clanner. Seems too...nice. Er, no offense to you," he said quickly. "Really, I'd think you'd be happy to see a familiar face. But like I said, he seems like a decent fellow to me. Granted, I can't figure out why he'd want a tac ops position if he's a MechWarrior..."

She gave a snort of disbelief and shook her head. "Fred, look at me," she said putting her hands on his shoulders. "I am a killer. For the first twenty-three years of my life, I was part of Clan Wolf, which frequently kills things. I am genetically engineered to have the best genes possible for killing things. I have been trained since birth to be a MechWarrior, so I can kill things extra good." She felt like she was talking to a child. "Akela is, like me, a trueborn MechWarrior from Clan Wolf. What do you suppose he does?"

"Pfft. Anybody who likes pancakes can't be all bad. It's crepe-lovers who are evil," Fred joked as Randi dropped her hands. "In all seriousness, though, doesn't that mean we want him around? The trick is gonna be convincing him to work for us as a MechWarrior, so he can put all those killing skills to good use."

"What he wants to kill is me!" she yelped. Fred just gave her a confused, and slightly concerned look. She felt her face flush as she hesitantly admitted, "I, uh... Well, I kind of forgot to mention that I am... ahem, probably dezgra."

"Or he wants the schematics you have," observed Fred in a whispered tone. He rubbed his chin in thought. "Well, I could send him away, but... I think I'll have him stick around."

"What?!" Randi hissed.

"Look, Akela's probably a fairly clever person, right? That means that he would expect us to figure out why he's here. If he wanted to be sneaky, he wouldn't allow you to find out he was around. There's some reason he is out in the open like this, and I want to know what it is. I say we let him stick around, so we can find out exactly what he's up to."

"I can't believe you," Randi sputtered. "I can't believe you aren't going to do anything about this. Well, if you won't, I will. I cannot stay here waiting for him to kill me," she said, turning to go pack her things.

Fred grabbed her arm as she turned to hurry off, stopping her. "Randi... Now look at me," he said brushing a few loose strands of hair away from her face as she turned back towards him. "I figure this is a case where we're damned if we do, and damned if we don't. Personally, I'd rather fight my enemies face-to-face than try to run from something I can't see. But no matter what happens, he's going to have to go through me if he has any intention of hurting you."

"You say that so easily... You have never fought him," she said a little coldly.

Her partner frowned, looking a little hurt by that remark, but quickly changed his expression and the direction of the conversation. "Look, we're not even sure why he's here yet. For all we know, he might be telling the truth. What if he got booted out or separated from the Clan? Or taken prisoner and then released, like you?"

"I know Akela. He has nothing but contempt for mercenaries. He would never join a merc unit without some ulterior motive."

"Uh-huh. And I suppose you were always A-OK with mercs?" Fred countered.

Randi frowned this time. She wasn't convinced that Akela was not a threat, but Fred did have a very good point. Perhaps her sibkin was being honest. 'I doubt it, though,' she thought to herself still. 'Akela is a manipulative bastard. Always was and always will be.' She followed Fred back into the kitchen reservedly.

"My apologies for that, Mr. Kerr. I had to discuss a small business matter with my partner," Fred explained, nodding his head towards Randi.

Akela just nodded politely. "No need to apologize. I understand entirely," he said. "I can see you have some questions about my sincerity. Again, that's understandable. Especially since, I must admit, I have... not been entirely honest with you."

Fred just raised his eyebrows a little, but Randi's eyes held an eager spark like an animal ready and waiting to pounce on wounded prey.

"My name... is actually Akela Kerensky," he said. "Though I make no excuses for the lie, I'm sure you can understand my reasoning. That's a dangerous name to have these days."

'Freebirth!' Randi cursed mentally. 'He won his bloodname...'

That was one significant difference between the man before her now and her unblooded sibkin Akela Wolf. The name was more than just a title, it was a badge of honor, and testament of spirit and strength, and a promise that future generations would benefit from the genes of the Clan's very finest Warriors. A price was paid in blood for each and every individual legacy, giving double-meaning to the term. She wondered how many other Warriors Akela had to kill in order to call himself a Kerensky.

It stung her to know that he had gained a bloodname—the ultimate honor among the Clans and an honor she could never have. She had now and always to be content to call herself Greene, a contrived surname she neither inherited nor won, rather than the Sender bloodname she had always desired. She wondered if Akela brought this matter up to hurt and taunt her, and gave him a very cold look.

"So, I take it you would prefer to go by 'Kerr', then?" asked Fred, unaware of the turmoil on Randi's face as she stood behind him.

"If that would be alright," Akela said with a nod. "If I'm going to be killed, I'd rather it not be over something as trivial as my name."

Randi glared at him now. She was positive that his last comment was meant for her. "Where's your Adder?" she demanded abruptly, changing the subject. She doubted that he had a different 'Mech if he had one at all; that light chassis had always been his favorite thing to pilot.

"Hm? Oh, you mean the Puma?" he replied, using the InnerSphere name as if the Clan designation hadn't been immediately familiar to him. "I have it with me. However, as I explained to Commander Acosta, I would prefer to remain in a tac ops position rather than a direct combat role."

"I think that will work out for the time being, at least," said Fred. He looked back at Randi, who had by this time regained her composure. "We really could use someone on tac ops, after all... And, uh, can we drop all this 'commander' business? It's makin' me feel like a bloody social general."