AUTHOR'S NOTES: Sorry that I'm running a bit late on this-I shouldn't have promised a new chapter during finals week. Anyhow, here's the conclusion of the battle.

SulliMike asked why the Clans are using Inner Sphere reporting names rather than their Clan names (Thor for Summoner, Loki for Hellbringer, etc.). The reason why is to save confusion. Not everyone who reads these chapters are hardcore Battletech gamers, and I didn't want people to get confused over who was shooting who. There also may be a question as to why 'Mechs seem to die very quickly in this chapter, compared to some of Stackpole's chapters, for instance. This is a huge battle, regiment on Cluster, and it would be another three chapters if I actually gamed the whole thing out. So time and shooting is compressed and quicker-kind of like a game of Alpha Strike.

According to Battletech canon, Persistence did indeed fall to Clan Jade Falcon, after the Persistence Militia actually beat them in a battle at Jestin Ridge, but lost the subsequent engagement. This is a different story...

Jestin Ridge Repair Facility

Persistence, Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth

11 March 3050

Trinary Bravo of the 133rd Falcon Fusiliers landed squarely in the middle of the Sentinel defense line, throwing both sides into confusion—the Sentinels had not been expecting it, and the Jade Falcons were not used to this sort of close-in combat. A second of hesitation rippled through both sides for a moment, everyone too shocked at the sudden appearance of an enemy right next to them, and then the Clanfolk opened fire, stepping back to get some room. The Sentinels, more trained for melee, waded in to engage the OmniMechs head on.

Calla felt rather than saw his Battlemaster take a PPC strike to its flank. He turned and confronted a Mad Cat, who loosed a flight of SRMs in his direction, all of which hit. Calla ignored the damage—the tough assault 'Mech was designed for this sort of fight—shoved the Battlemaster's pistol-like PPC into the bulbous torso of the Mad Cat, and fired. He did no damage, as the PPC was within its minimum range, but the Mad Cat fell back all the same. Calla raked it with four medium lasers and added his own SRMs, and then it was engaged by Kola Wohanga's Banshee. Calla let the other MechWarrior take care of his opponent; he had to command his regiment. "Lancer Six, Sentinel Six! How's the south wall?"

"Sentinel Six, Lancer Six! We've got two breakthroughs, main gate and Palisade! Cannon's small boys are on their way!" Calla spared a quick glance across the facility, and saw Cannon's tanks moving to engage. The Palisade was lost in a pall of smoke that he could not see through, but he saw Sentinel 'Mechs staggering backwards. The tanks would not be enough.

"Apache Six, Sentinel Six! Take Ceta/1 and Ceta/2 and advance to the Palisade—seal off the penetration!" Calla now had to commit almost all of his reserve; only Ceta/3's two light lances would be left.

"On our way!" Thomas Senla called out. His Marauder took two steps and was hit from behind: a Gauss shell punched through the top of the egg-shaped torso and exited through the head, killing Senla in his seat. The 'Mech was carried by its own momentum a few more steps and crashed to the ground.

The two companies of Ceta halted for a second, the sudden death of their commander shocking them. Elfa ran her Phoenix Hawk out front. "Ceta, follow me!" she shouted over the radio. The companies' hesitation ended as abruptly as it began, and they charged across the central plaza towards the Palisade.

"Goddammit," Calla snarled, as he watched them run past the fallen 'Mech of their commander. Too many good people are dying today. Yet Calla had watched a second too long, and his stationary Battlemaster was spotted by Senefa as she landed on the parapet. She fired her PPC just as another Clansman did the same thing. The thick armor of the Battlemaster still held, but the sudden hits surprised Calla, and he staggered backwards. The 'Mech's right foot came down on empty air, and all 85 tons fell off the parapet, to crash into the plaza below. Calla tried to steel himself for the sudden stop, but the landing drove the breath out of him. It also snapped off the radio antennas set atop the Battlemaster's head.

Senefa ignored the fallen Battlemaster for now; she too had something to command. The problem was, most of Trinary Alpha did not have jumpjets. They were stuck at the base of the wall, unable to get any further, though they were now sheltered from any fire from the Sentinels. Trinary Bravo was more than holding their own on the parapet, if for no other reason than the Sentinels were getting in each other's way. She had just under a full Star on the parapet with her—herself, two other Thors, and MechWarrior Olsen's Dragonfly. With her LRMs exhausted, she now began using her autocannon. She fired it, more to keep any opponents' head down than trying to hit something, and radioed the rest of her Trinary below. "Alpha Sierra One, Alpha Charlie One—are you still with me?"

"Still with you, Charlie One." Star Commander Kazumi sounded breathless. He was an older MechWarrior, one who probably should have been forced into retirement by now, but Senefa leaned on the older man's wisdom and experience. She would need it now.

"The wall here appears to be weak. Blast a way through, as quickly as possible!" Kazumi acknowledged, and Senefa spared another glance for her Trinary, as they stepped back and began blasting away at the wall. Immediately, large sections of it began to fall away. It would take awhile, but they would get through. Senefa sighted a Shadow Hawk trying to engage Star Commander Tomomi's Ryoken, and fired both her PPC and autocannon. One or the other penetrated the medium 'Mech's already damaged armor and touched off its magazine; the 'Mech exploded, the remains falling backwards into the facility.

At the Palisade, Marion Rhialla and Alfred Dennison had been pressed back into one corner, but the firepower of their PPCs and Gauss Rifles were enough that the Clan warriors tried to avoid them; already there was a burning Vulture at their feet. For the rest of the area, however, it was a confused, swirling mess of a melee, with so many 'Mechs burning and dust kicked up that it obscured the battlefield. MechWarriors switched to infrared and magscan, only to give up and return to simply tryong to see out their canopies: the 'Mechs were pressed together so closely that heat and metal signatures blended into each other.

Sheila was too busy to be scared. As the Jade Falcons had surged over the Palisade, she had fired her PPCs and knocked down a Ryoken, but she knew she hadn't killed it. She had other problems, as suddenly she found herself engaged with two opponents: another Ryoken, and the dreaded Mad Cat. A wild, random thought entered her head. Well, Phelan, let's see if I can do better!

The Mad Cat was the bigger threat, so she triggered her four medium lasers at it—and somehow missed with every one of them. The Ryoken fired back first, a titanic blast from an autocannon that tore through her torso armor, carrying away two of her medium lasers. Sheila somehow kept the Shruiken upright. Fuck! Another hit like that and I'm dead! The blast, combined with her frantic efforts to keep from going down, actually managed to dodge most of the fire from the Mad Cat, though lasers scored deep into the armor on her arms. Desperate, Sheila took a step forward and delivered a kick to the Ryoken. The Clan warrior, taken by surprise, nearly fell himself, as the Shruiken's foot crushed half of the OmniMech's left leg armor.

Sheila dropped back as the Mad Cat advanced, trying to get some fighting room and cover the hole in the Shruiken's left side. The Clan 'Mech fired first, once more melting armor off of her 'Mech with its lasers, but somehow not finding the vulnerable spot—though Sheila could see from her secondary monitors that her poor machine simply could not take much more of it. The Ryoken was edging back into the fight as well. Sheila mashed both triggers, firing everything she had except the one-shot SRM-2 at the Mad Cat. One PPC bolt missed, another hit, and two of her lasers carved jagged lines next to the PPC shot. She twisted and fired the SRM-2 at the Ryoken. Both missiles detonated short of their target and splashed Inferno fluid across the Clan 'Mech's torso, which ignited a second later. The Ryoken became a torch, and the Clan MechWarrior disappeared into the murk—for all the good it did, since it was now a target that everyone could see. At least three 'Mechs opened fire on it, two Sentinels and one Jade Falcon, and the Ryoken went down for good as both legs and one arm were taken off.

Sheila had no time to enjoy her victory, which now seemed more like a stay of execution. The Mad Cat was wounded, but far from finished. Both warriors raised their weapon arms at the same time, but then the Clan 'Mech was hit from the side by a fusillade of laser and missile fire—and for good measure, Drax's Phoenix Hawk surged out of nowhere and punched the Mad Cat in the side of its torso. The Jade Falcon retreated, firing wildly as it suddenly found itself engaged by three 'Mechs.

"Kaatha? Marcus?" Sheila radioed, for some reason unable to remember their callsigns.

"Sorry, boss!" Drax rasped, his mouth sounding dry over the radio. His Phoenix Hawk was pitted and burned in places, the top of one jumpjet housing gone. "Got separated!"

"Are you all right, Delta One?" Kaatha asked. Her Griffin had a huge divot carved out of its left torso, and a deep score across the canopy.

"Okay," Sheila said, blinking away the sweat that drifted into her eyes. Firing everything had been too much even for the Shruiken's double heat sinks to handle, and the cockpit felt like an oven. "We need to retake the wall. Where's the rest of Alpha/4?" Sheila saw Ceta/1 and Ceta/2 adding their weight to the battle. She couldn't see Kazikawa, or Rhialla. "Who's in command?"

Kaatha's Griffin pointed roughly towards the left, and Sheila followed it with her eyes. "Oh shit," she breathed, because Kazikawa's Banshee lay on its back, burning, its SRM magazine popping off.

"You are," Kaatha remarked calmly.

With Calla out of the fight for the time being, command at the north wall fell to Caitlin Houndlikov—who quickly realized that there was no command to be had. The battle for the parapet had devolved into a wild melee, where targets shifted at a moment's notice. Clan firepower was taking a toll on the defenders, destroying them or forcing them to retreat—if they could retreat at all. Yet the Jade Falcons were also hard-pressed, as the Sentinels began punching and kicking; the Clanfolk, unused to such dishonorable behavior and unnerved by the sheer bloody-mindedness of physical combat with 'Mechs, were barely holding onto their gains.

Tooriu Kku was slow to get into the fight: Beta/2 had held the northeast corner, which was the one spot the Jade Falcons were not assaulting. Gnea Carabinera led her company into the melee, but ordered her light 'Mechs to remain behind; Stingers and Wasps would not last long in a fight like this. The problem was, medium 'Mechs were not much better off, too lightly armored to hold up against the devastating shots the Clan Omnis could fire. Tooriu's Awesome was by far the heaviest 'Mech in the entire company.

He fired his PPCs sparingly, trying not to overheat the already ponderous 80-ton 'Mech; he was also afraid of hitting his own side. He saw his lance commander, Melinda Austerlitz, engage a skinny, blocky looking 'Mech, though Tooriu couldn't remember its name. Whatever it was, it carried a PPC, and it blasted Austerlitz's Phoenix Hawk with it. Her own large laser fire went wide, and Austerlitz slipped as she almost tripped over a downed 'Mech. Another PPC shot blasted into the Phoenix Hawk's torso, then a third from another Clan Omni—Tooriu recognized this one as a Mad Cat—blasted the 'Mech off the parapet and over the wall, to crash far below.

"You motherfucker!" Tooriu shouted, aimed at the blocky 'Mech, and opened up with all three PPCs. All three hit, smashing through armor and sending the Clan warrior back. Tooriu advanced, ignored the PPC hit, and fired again, the heat washing through the cockpit. Tooriu was close enough where missing was almost a statistical impossibility, but far enough that the PPC's blue lightning could coalesce and deal damage. Another three bolts punched through the Fenris—Tooriu remembered the name now—and light boiled through the holes, followed by fire as the fusion engine collapsed in on itself. The MechWarrior had enough and ejected, as the Fenris exploded. Tooriu shielded his eyes from the flash, stepped back, and began looking for the Mad Cat. He found it, engaged with an Enforcer, and fired on it with two PPC shots this time; both missed. "Over here, cocksucker!" The Clan warrior, as if they heard, turned in his direction. "Yeah, that's right, fuckhead! Come and pick on someone your own size!" Tooriu laughed. Hell, this isn't all that bad. Not scary at all. As the Mad Cat advanced on him, it rocked from side to side as Carabinera's lance of Centurions peppered it with LRMs.

Tooriu raised his PPC arm to fire when a new message blasted across every frequency: "Coldstream Six to all Sentinels!" Houndlikov screamed. "Abandon the north wall! Abandon the north wall!"

The Sentinels—with a third of their comrades down or retreating already—didn't question the order. 'Mechs leapt backwards on jumpjets, or, for those close enough, risked turning their backs on the Jade Falcons to run down the ramps. Others, without jumpjets and nowhere near the ramps, jumped off anyway, snapping legs and crushing actuators when they landed, but away from the murderous firepower of their opponents.

Tooriu couldn't retreat; the ramp was far behind him, and he didn't want to jump, even with the thick legs of an Awesome. Instead, he climbed onto the second parapet, not caring that his 'Mech was now outlined against the horizon, only wanting to cover his company's retreat as best he could. He fired on the Mad Cat again, forcing it back, and never saw the Masakari below center its four PPCs on him.

Calla had gotten back to his feet, and saw Houndlikov, her Warhammer badly damaged by a Thor, its SRM gone and one PPC barrel split in half. He raised his PPC and fired, hitting the Thor and distracting it long enough for Houndlikov to get down the ramp. His Battlemaster shuddered with return fire from an autocannon. "Sentinel Six to Coldstream Six!" There was nothing but static, and Calla realized his radio must be out.

Then he caught movement to his left. Ruby laserfire came from the north wall where the parapet ended, where the old repairs had been made. Calla felt a cold hand grip his stomach: the Jade Falcons were burning through the wall, and they were almost through. If that section of the wall collapsed, the Clan warriors would pour through the breach, and it would be over.

Calla walked backwards, trying to ignore yet more damage to his armor from yet another autocannon hit, and reached over for the clacker—a trigger that would detonate the mines around the facility. It was gone. Frantically, Calla searched for it, and saw it at his feet, where it had landed when he had fallen. A quick glance saw the Thor lining up on him, so he whispered a prayer, reached down, and grabbed the clacker. He expected a PPC bolt to end his life as the Battlemaster stood there, unmoving, but none came; Calla never knew that the Thor had been hit itself by return fire, as Ceta/3, the last reserve, committed itself—even as Major Duane Loose knew that his handful of Valkyries and Commandos were no match for their opponents.

Calla switched on the clacker; a red light came on, then switched to green as the mines received the device's tightbeamed message, even at this distance. He squeezed the trigger.

Senefa instinctively flung up her weapon arm as her Thor took damage from a cloud of LRMs from three Valkyries below. "You little freebirth bastards!" she screamed, because they had ruined her sight picture on the Battlemaster. It was stationary, which made it a perfect target. Senefa tamped down her anger—her first instinct was to turn and blast the nearest Valkyrie—and instead ignored them; her armor could resist a few more missile hits, and she returned her attention to the Battlemaster. She had a feeling whoever was in it was important.

"Alpha Charlie One!" It was Kazumi's voice, sounding triumphant. "Alpha Sierra! We are through, repeat, we are through the wall! Thirty seconds to breach completion!"

Senefa smiled. "Well done, Alpha Sierra!" She switched frequencies, firing on the Battlemaster as she did so. "Peregrine One, Goddess One! Follow Alpha Sierra through the north wall br—"

Her words were cut off as the world exploded around her.

The clacker's signal was meant to follow the communications suite of whatever 'Mech it was in, but with Calla's antennas gone, it had to use its own tiny signal. As a result, only the mines across the front of the north wall actually detonated. That was still more than enough, as several hundred tons of high explosive went off—each mine was designed to at least heavily damage a 'Mech's leg, and there were hundreds of them. The north wall disappeared in a gout of flames and ruptured earth: Trinary Alpha, letting their 'Mechs downheat a moment before breaching the wall completely, were caught in the middle of it. None were destroyed, but the sheer force of the explosion crippled them, and several 'Mechs fell. One of them was Athena Henderson, just as her targeting computer locked onto the Awesome that had given her such an easy target. Her PPC bolts flew harmlessly into the air as the ground erupted beneath her.

Far more devastating than the actual explosions was the effect it had on the Fusiliers. Though the Jade Falcons would come to be known as a deadly opponent, with good reason, it was the 133rd's first battle of the invasion as well. To this point, most of the warriors had only fought other Clanfolk, who played by the Clans' rules of honor; these various Trials tended to be small affairs, decided in minutes. Jestin Ridge was something else entirely: to the Falcon warriors, the Sentinels seemed to be a neverending foe, where destroying one opponent left them open to two more, none of which seemed to have any honor at all, and all of whom seemed to be bent on driving a metal fist or a steel foot—or worse, a hatchet—through their opponent. In most cases, the 133rd was only slightly more experienced than their foes; in some cases, vastly less experienced.

The Jade Falcon warriors were not unthinking automatons; they were human beings with thoughts, desires and feelings—and morale. The sudden, gigantic explosion behind them, which could be anything from a massive strafing run to an orbital bombardment, sent a wave of unsurety through the Fusiliers, and they hesitated between advancing into the plaza, or retreating off the wall. Senefa and Athena, their commanders, were stunned, knocked over by the shockwave, and could not give orders.

The battle hung in the balance.

"Coldstream Six to all Sentinels on the north wall!" Houndlikov, with experience stretching back to her first battle, on Sarna in the Fourth Succession War, saw the Fusiliers' hesitation, and knew she had to act. She leveled her remaining PPC at the downed Thor. "Alpha strike! ALPHA STRIKE!"

The remaining Sentinel MechWarriors, even those on the ground with destroyed legs, turned and faced the north wall, and opened fire, again holding down their triggers and ignoring the heat. Lasers, autocannons, and missiles lashed the exposed Clan 'Mechs. Only two actually went down, and several Sentinel machines shut down; one actually exploded; its ammunition detonated as the temperature rose to alarming levels. But it was enough: the Fusiliers' morale collapsed. Now the Clan MechWarriors only wanted to get away from their tormentors, to stay no longer on the wall, to retreat back out of range and find someone in charge before yet another explosion tore through them.

Senefa staggered to her feet, somehow, as the Thor was hit again and again. Alarms went off, warning her of multiple breaches; miraculously, nothing vital was hit. She fired back, downing a Commando that got too close, but looked around to see Trinary Bravo abandoning the wall. Within seconds, she was the last one on it.

To stay was suicide. She gave her opponents a respectful nod, triggered her jumpjets, and leapt backwards. No laserfire or missiles followed her, as if the Sentinels had decided to let her live.

Sheila closed up to the Palisade. She noticed that a good portion of the wall had actually collapsed, despite Danderson's boasts that it would hold, but anything that had missed a 'Mech had hit the wall, and the thick pilings were simply not designed to take that sort of punishment.

That was less important than two other things she noticed: one, the Jade Falcons were in full retreat, running back towards the dead ground, over half their comrades gone; the tiny Elementals leapt after the 'Mechs, like kittens chasing their mother. Deadly kittens, Sheila thought; the battlearmor had done more than their fair share of death dealing.

The other thing Sheila noted was that she was still alive.

Desultory fire had chased the Jade Falcons, but now it stopped. The battlefield was suddenly silent. Sheila saw that she had ended up next to Marion Rhialla. The Perennium was dented in places, holed in others, and the paint on the Gauss Rifle barrels had blistered off—but it was still standing. "Tigerstripe Six, Delta One," Sheila radioed. "I think you're in command. Yoshi Six is down." She wondered if Kazikawa was still alive.

"Roger that." Marion sounded as exhausted as Sheila felt. "I think we just won."

Calla took a chance and opened the canopy of his Battlemaster, once more back on the parapet—one of the few clear places on it. Most of the parapet looked like a Solaris junkyard, with destroyed 'Mechs, armor plates, arms, and legs lying everywhere. The air smelled horrible: cordite, melted steel, smoke, burning flesh. Yet it was still better than the hot, fetid air inside his 'Mech cockpit. In any case, it seemed safe enough: the Jade Falcons were back on the north ridge, out of even their phenomenal range. There were a lot fewer of them now, Calla thought. Then again, he told himself as he turned around to look at the Jestin Ridge facility behind him, there's a lot fewer of us, too.

He saw Mira's Battlemaster come up the ramp to park itself next to him. Her 'Mech looked a lot better than his, with only a few places where she had been hit. He felt bile in his throat: an armored arm was hanging off of her SRM launcher, and red and black fluid dripped from it.

"Hi, cuz." Mira tightbeamed the message over to him. He returned her wave as she opened her canopy as well. "You okay? I couldn't get through."

"My radio's out. Laser still works, but it's short-range only." He found his binoculars and scanned the ridge. "How bad is it on the south wall?"

"Better than here. The Palisade got overrun and we lost the main gate for a minute, but we took it back." He saw her point to the severed arm. "One of their little armored guys jumped me and tried to melt through my canopy. I grabbed him and tossed him over the wall. Guess he didn't want to let go."

Calla opened his visor and wiped his face with a rag, as best he could. Then it hit him. "You said the Palisade was overrun?"

"Sheila's okay. So is Max. They got worked over pretty good, but they're all right." She paused. "Tom Senla's dead."

"I know."

"There's some others down too. Don't have the butcher's bill yet. My battalion didn't get hit too bad, but Caitlin says she's lost half her strength. I'll pull two of my companies off and send them up here, along with Ceta/1 and Ceta/2. We can fill in the gaps with Dick's tanks."

Calla remembered the tanks rolling in to fight the Clan infantry. "How bad are Cannon's boys?"

"Not good, but not terrible. Dick told me he's still pretty tactical. Maybe down a platoon or two; he's still sorting it out." Another pause. "Calla, I'll tell you plain. I don't know if we can hold them again."

"We hit them hard too. I'd say they've suffered at least 25 percent casualties." And they've got to be as tired as we are. He almost added that the Sentinels had broken their enemies, but stopped himself. Another few seconds and it might have been the Sentinels who had broken. Given the way that the Jade Falcons had filled in their ranks, even with crippled 'Mechs, they were not at all giving up the fight.

"Yeah, but they've still got DropShips in orbit. What if this Malthus character has another one of his Clusters up there…" Mira's voice trailed off. "Whoa, what's this? On the ridge, Calla!"

Calla closed his visor and peered through the binoculars. "I'll be a son of a bitch. That's a white flag." He shook his head in wonder. "Hell…maybe we did break them."

The white flag party stopped halfway across the long open plain, near the downed, headless Daishi. Calla knew that the Jade Falcons surrendering was too good to be true; this was a parley party. He walked out there himself, with a small honor guard of twelve Sentinel infantry. Arla had insisted on leading them.

It was a ways to walk, leaving the facility through a hidden door in the west wall. It took half an hour to get there. Calla saw the devastation at the base of the wall—the north wall now had something of a dry, blackened moat in front of it. There were destroyed 'Mechs there as well. Some, Calla knew, were his own.

Finally, they reached the parley party. The white flag had been joined by a Jade Falcon banner; the Sentinels marched under a white flag and their own banner, blue and white, the Sentinels' crest in the middle. Calla swallowed involuntarily. He recognized Cavell Malthus, but his honor guard were five of the battlesuited infantry, any one of which could wipe out Calla's party. Aside from the Elementals, Malthus was alone.

Luckily, treachery was not on Cavell Malthus' mind. Instead, as the Sentinels drew close, the Elementals came to attention. "Halt!" Arla snapped out. "Attention! Officers' salute!" The Sentinels infantry halted, and brought up their rifles, executing a salute to their foes. Cavell took five steps forward and stopped.

Calla smiled and couldn't resist a chuckle as he took five steps of his own. "saKhan Cavell Malthus."

Malthus smiled back. "Commander Calla Bighorn-Vlata."

Calla looked around. "You must be a student of history, saKhan. This is like the old way, back when we were killing each other with muskets."

"The more things change, the more they stay the same, quiaff? Now we kill each other with BattleMechs…but honor remains." Malthus motioned at the smoking north wall. "I am not sure mines are honorable. Nor the fact that you eschew single combat."

Calla wasn't sure how to answer that. Only House Kurita talked about honor, and usually paid for it when they tried to apply it to the battlefield. The other Houses, and all mercenaries, lied, cheated and stole their victories; so did Kurita, if the War of 3039 was any indication. "Perhaps not, saKhan, but we didn't exactly discuss honorable combat before this started. And in any case, to be perfectly honest with you…I don't care." He put his hands behind his back.

Malthus stiffened, then forced himself to smile. "I suppose it is that way with you Spherians. We of the Clans cannot expect you to fight according to our custom."

"This is a fascinating conversation," Calla said, "and I would love to sit down and discuss just where the fuck you're from, saKhan." Malthus' smile faded instantly at the profanity. "But I don't think you walked all this way to compare notes. And I'm guessing you're not going to surrender."

"I am not. Are you?"

Calla did not hesitate, though he wondered if he was condemning what was left of the Sentinels. "Nope."

"I thought not. I do have another Cluster in orbit. I can break my bid, come down, and overrun the facility, quiaff?"

"You can try," Calla replied.

Malthus laughed, though it was not a contemptous one. "You undoubtedly have the whole place mined."

"Attack and find out."

"I would rather not." Malthus put his hands behind his back as well. Calla thought they struck an interesting pose, both men: Malthus stood at attention, whereas Calla stood with one leg out in front of the other. Both wore MechWarrior gear; both men's hair was thinning and plastered against their heads, from the sweat in a hot cockpit. "I will undoubtedly take the facility should I bring down the other Cluster. However, I offer a counter-proposal."

"I'm listening."

"I offer you hegira, Calla Bighorn-Vlata. An honorable retreat." He motioned at the facility. "I am not interested in the facility, Commander. There is nothing there that I do not already have. I want Persistence, nothing more. My intent was to destroy your regiment, after which the planetary government would surrender. But I will be satisfied with simply taking the planet, and allowing you to retreat offworld."

Calla was silent for a moment. "What's the catch?"

"The catch?" Malthus looked confused.

"C'mon, saKhan. You're letting my regiment go, after all that happened today? Not going to try and finish us off? Notice I said try." Calla wasn't above a little bravado.

Malthus sighed. "Commander, you have eyes. You know that you inflicted heavy casualties on us today. I have eyes, and know that I inflicted heavy casualties on you—but we both know you outnumber us. Calling down my second Cluster will take time, time that you will use to repair and replenish your surviving 'Mechs. I will do the same to the 133rd, of course, and we will attack. You will resist, heroically and probably dishonorably, and be destroyed—but I will lose yet more MechWarriors, more 'Mechs, in the process. And it will be a long war, Commander." He shrugged. "I do not know how you Spheroids do things. My people refer to you as barbarians, and your conduct today seems to support that assessment. But the fact that you are standing here tells me that you, at least, do not want to bury any more of your young men and women beneath Persistence's dust any more than I do." Malthus' mouth quirked back into a smile. "Quiaff?"

"I don't know what that means, but yes, that's true," Calla admitted.

"Aff, that is what you mean, Commander." Malthus nodded. "So. Gather your forces, load them aboard your DropShips, and retreat offplanet to the JumpShips you undoubtedly have hidden in orbit somewhere. I will have Persistence, you will survive to fight another day, and our warriors will live to see another sunrise."

"What assurances do I have that you won't slaughter the people of Persistence if we leave?" Calla asked.

"My war is not with them, Commander. My intentions are to do nothing to them, so long as they do nothing to me. They will be allowed to live their lives in peace. Yes, we will use their natural resources, as the Federated Commonwealth does, but I have no intention to mistreat them. As far as they are concerned, we are merely replacing the banner of your house with that of Clan Jade Falcon's. Little more than that will change. Have you Spheroids not been doing that to each other for three hundred years?"

What's he talking about? Calla wondered. They know about the Succession Wars—who doesn't—but he's acting like they weren't even part of them. Hell, like they're not even from the Inner Sphere. So where the fuck are these assholes from? "Who the hell are you people, Malthus?" Calla blurted.

"We are the Clans, Commander."

"That narrows it down." Calla looked back at the facility. His regiment was there, what was left of it, and Malthus was right: another Cluster would overrun Jestin Ridge. If anyone survived this thin man with the perfect-toothed smile, they would be prisoners. They would disappear, just as Redjack Ryan's pirates and the Kell Hound battalion had. And those men and women behind the smoking walls had families. Calla looked at his wife. Arla might as well have been a statue, in her full battle gear, her rifle at high port, but he knew her well enough to know what she was thinking. Sheila was behind that wall. So was Mira, and Todd, and Max, and hundreds of other friends.

And Calla knew the answer he had to give. He turned back to Malthus. "I will need a few days."

"Of course. Will a week suffice?"

"That sounds reasonable." Calla took a deep breath. "All right, saKhan, I agree to your terms. One week, and we will leave Persistence." He laughed a little. "And I promise I won't blow up Jestin Ridge on my way out." Though I'm going to strip the place bare, and sabotage what we can't take with us, Calla added to himself. Dishonorable? Hell yes, but honor's not much help if you're dead.

Malthus extended a hand. Calla took it. "Bargained well and done, Commander." The handshake was strong, but neither man tried to test each other. "How long have you been doing this?" Malthus asked.

"Oh, about 20 or so years. Back to the Fourth Succession War, when I was a snot-nosed lance commander who thought he knew everything. You?"

Malthus laughed again. "About the same! When I was also a snot-nosed idiot fresh out of the sibko." The saKhan looked around the battlefield. "It seemed fun then. Now…I am not so sure, quiaff?"

"Yeah," Calla agreed. "Not a lot of yuks anymore."

Malthus took a step backwards. "Then I will leave you to it, Commander. You may communicate with me if necessary, but not to ask for more time, quiaff?" He came to attention and saluted; Calla noticed that the Jade Falcons saluted the same as the Sentinels, in the Steiner fashion, palm-down at a slight angle. "We will meet again, I believe."

Calla returned the salute. "And that day will be a sad day for one of us, saKhan." Without another word, Calla executed a parade-ground about face, and marched towards Arla's thin line of infantry. Malthus did the same.