Opalescent Reflections

Dealer's Choice

Chapter 11

Edo, Turtle Bay

Pesht District, Draconis Combine

9 May 3050

Ace watched the captured mechwarriors of the Fourteenth Legion of Vega as they were marched into the courtyard outside the headquarters building.

That building, along with the planet of Turtle Bay, was now the property of Clan Diamond Shark. The same could be said of the soldiers who had survived the Legion's defeat. Barely seventy mechwarriors out of more than a hundred had survived, but that was a higher ratio of survival than the infantry who'd attacked the rear of the 21st Assault Cluster as they engaged the Legion's mechs and tanks. Ace had retained his Elementals aboard the dropships above the landing zone and once the infantry revealed their position, a hundred and fifty Elementals had rained down on the trenches and improvised bunkers.

Now a portion of the elementals were overseeing the prisoners, while most of the battlemechs worked to clear the bulk of the salvaged equipment to where it could be secured. The last thing whoever was appointed to govern Turtle Bay needed was for a resistance group to arm themselves from the wrecks.

Ace's Stormcrow loomed over the mechwarriors as they were marched in and brought to kneel facing him. Not having hands fitted to the omnimech was a decent excuse for not joining in the effort - although he would have rather done the labor than what he was faced with.

"I am told that the mechwarriors of the Draconis Combine are called samurai," he enquired of the prisoners. The officers were towards the front - those who survived. Their losses had been disproportionate. "The word I believe could be translated into Star League English as 'warriors who serve'."

Ace paused and saw signs of derision in some of their eyes. "Have I erred in my translation?"

One of the mechwarriors in the second row raised his head, back stiff. "Some call us samurai, more call us Takashi's Rats."

This one had spirit. Good. He might be useful. "In my experience, insults like that are usually offered out of fear. I take them as a sign of respect. Back-handed, but respect."

"How much experience is that?" the mechwarrior challenged him. "Are you some lordling of your people?"

One of the Elementals stepped forwards but Ace gestured for him to hold. The mechwarrior had no rank badges but he was old and most likely he was the sort of warriors the Clans pushed to retire. To clear the way for younger and… well, younger warriors. But Ace remembered the way that Castrum Keep's fighters had been organized and he wasn't entirely convinced that the Sharks were right to do that.

"I earned my rank, the same way you rats earned your respect. I fought and clawed for it," he told them. "I was not raised up, I climbed. And I climbed fast, because there were always those reaching for my ankles to drag me down." Ace dusted himself down. "Warriors who serve. Takashi's Rats… and rats are very adaptable creatures. They followed us all the way to our homeworlds… somehow. I think it is a rare world humanity has settled that they didn't reach, eventually."

There were a few unaccounted for warriors from this regiment. Those rats might be dangerous.

"This world now belongs to Clan Diamond Shark. We will hold it until someone takes it from us. You," he indicated. "Also belong to Clan Diamond Shark. You used to serve House Kurita. Given the disadvantages you faced fighting us, you served well. Learn our ways, adapt… and you can rise as I did. Fail and… well, that has the same consequence anywhere."

"Do you think a speech will turn our loyalty from Theodore Kurita?" asked the oldest of the bondsmen. He was in the front ranks, one of only two living survivors who were ranked higher than company commander.

Ace shook his head. "No. But a few months or years working as laborers may encourage some of you to aspire to better things."

"Sign me up right away," one of the mechwarriors called. "Put me in that 'mech and I'll show you what I'm made of."

Ace chuckled. "We are not morons. You will have to earn your way up. And before that there will be extensive debriefing. Sharing what you know of the Combine so that we can plan for our future operations will be your first labor and it is not optional." Then he looked at the other senior officer. The commander of their third battalion. The smile fell off Ace's face. "You. Stand up."

The man also frowned, but he obeyed. He was a few years older than Ace, and he didn't fit with the others. It was little things. The same sort of little details that Ace had worked to smooth out of his own expressions to fit in with Clan Diamond Shark. He had no doubt that the officer was competent, even deadly. But he hadn't clawed his way up to his current position either. This was someone who was more of the samurai that Ace had expected.

"You commanded the third battalion," Ace observed. It wasn't a question. "Quite a number of these mechwarriors are here because of you."

That got a frown and a slight shake of his head. "We are here because we fought you, and you won."

"Yes, but you weren't part of the bid." Ace stepped forwards. "Your commander bid two battalions of 'mechs and their support. Your battalion was left behind."

"Did you expect us to stand aside as you slaughtered our comrades?" the officer asked. "You don't know the DCMS very well."

He sighed. "You miss my point: thank you."

The expression of the recipient of those thanks looked back at him with offended hauteur that was definitely not a rat's. "What?"

"Your battalion was not bid. If you had marched onto your dropships and left… I would be honor bound to let you leave." Ace shrugged. "Inconvenient, since we would have to fight you on another world. Perhaps with a better idea of how we fight, and more 'mechs like yours." He glanced at Julian. "What was it called?"

"A Grand Dragon," the Star Commander reminded him.

"Yes, that was it." Ace turned back to the bondsman. "Not as good as our own 'mechs, but better than the wrecks most of the Legion had. Instead, you fed your battalion to us. Or was that your commander's orders?" He looked aside at the old commander for a moment. "A trap baited with two of his battalions so as to feed you a victory when we were worn down?"

"Ije!"

Ace blinked at that explosive syllable.

"No," the officer translated.

I am going to have to learn their language, Ace thought. If this battle is any example, that might actually be harder than fighting them.

"It was my decision," the man said quietly. "Mine alone."

"I thought so. The line between insubordination and initiative is a fine one," Ace allowed. "You have…"

"I would atone," the young battalion commander interrupted. He didn't seem at all happy about this. "If you are indeed an honorable warrior, I ask that you return my swords."

Why would I do that? Ace wondered. So you can try to kill me?

"Sho-sa," the old commander said, while Ace was still looking at the battalion commander as if he was an idiot. "That is…"

"Tai-sa Niiro, I have failed abjectly. To make apology to my ancestors is the duty that is left to me." He paused. "I would rather die than serve these invaders."

Oh. "You are intent on bondsref?" Ace's mind went back to New Kent and another man who had made that choice. Hopefully it was not going to be a recurring pattern.

"Bonds-ref? My intention is seppuku."

They definitely were not speaking the same language, even if most of the words were recognisably Star League English. "It means to end your life rather than become a bondsman."

"When a samurai has failed severely, it is our custom to end our lives ourselves." The man turned looked at his commander. "If he is willing, please act as my second. I will not be a prisoner."

"Neg." Ace shook his head. "If you are determined to die," he paused and looked at the others. "If any of you want to die, we can take care of this now. My warriors hold your bonds, I will take care of it. Why do you need swords though?"

Tai-sa Niiro outlined the process to Ace in halting sentences, clearly reluctant.

"That seems…" Needlessly dramatic… "Feasible." He looked at Julian. "Sho-sa Hiro of House Yamada's swords can be found, quiaff?" He'd practiced and didn't even stumble over the use of a non-bloodname second name.

"Are you really going to do this?" Julian asked. "It seems wasteful."

"A little paper, a little alcohol and a little time. It's cheaper than a bullet for each of them," Ace said. "They fought as warriors. If they refuse to adapt, better they die now rather than wasting time." He leaned closer. "Or letting them take some of us with them," he whispered.

"I had not considered that," Julian admitted. "I will find the swords."

There were two other takers for the ritual and they were brought forwards, sitting in what remained of their field uniforms - apparently mechwarrior suits were not readily available so the men were wearing little more than shorts and boots, a few in jackets that they'd been allowed to retain against the weather. The trio faced the other Legion mechwarriors, whose expressions varied between dull acceptance, dismay or anger.

Three pairs of swords were brought, two mechwarriors recognising theirs. The third shook his head and pointedly rejected them. "You wanted swords," the elemental who had brought them complained. "These are swords."

"Take him and fetch the exact swords he wants," Ace ordered quietly.

"Sir, is this necessary?"

"These are warriors," the young Star Colonel told him. "Some of those may be warriors of Clan Diamond Shark one day. Let them see that we value them."

It was hard to tell want the Elemental was thinking behind his visor, but he took the swords and gestured for the mechwarrior to come with him.

"Aren't you afraid he'll try to run away?" enquired Yamada.

"The man resigned himself to death. He has a choice between what you say is an honorable death, or fleeing from it and being torn apart. Which would you choose?"

Yamada shrugged.

Ace leant forwards and examined the two swords in front of the Sho-sa. He was no expert, but they certainly seemed well designed, the decoration elegant and designed not to detract in the least from their functionality. The other warrior's swords were of a similar pattern but less elaborate. There was no doubt that this Yamada was a noble of some kind.

It was almost a shame not to interrogate him, but they had seventy or so other warriors. And it would send a message that might help win over the people of this world.

The other warrior returned holding a pair of swords at about the same time that the other implements were provided and laid before the trio. Each took up their brushes and began drawing upon the paper before them. Ace had expected writing, but the markings were not letters. Was this supposed to be poetry or painting?

Still, it seemed to satisfy all of them.

One at a time, the warriors accepted the cups of sake. The first sipped twice, paused, then finished the contents of the cup with two more sips. Ace thought he could have emptied it with a single swallow. He accepted the warrior's long sword and stepped up.

With barely a flinch, the Legion mechwarrior drove his shorter blade into his chest, below the ribs and angled to penetrate the organs. Then the man wrenched the blade to the side.

Ace swung the blade with both hands. He missed his mark, the sword glanced slightly off one of the vertebrae and didn't fully finish cutting through the neck. Still, it should have been almost instantly fatal. He forced the blade the rest of the way through the soft tissue and stepped back from the bloody, decapitated corpse.

I think I've made a mistake, he thought. But it was too late now. This was being recorded.

He released the sword next to its owner, went to the next man and watched him drink. Again, two sips followed by two more. This was a ritual Ace did not understand, he had a feeling that the consequences would not be those he had hoped for. He would have to live with that, while this would not.

Again, the brutal self-inflicted wound on the belly. This time the mechwarrior hunched over slightly, pushing the hilt down to force the blade higher within his chest. Ace hesitated part-way through the stroke, corrected his aim and then completed the cut. This time the head fell free without further effort.

Yamada did not seem disturbed by this. He seemed… serene. "It would be customary for you to deliver the swords to our families," he said. "But I hope you never get near them."

What do you say to that? Ace chose nothing, picking up the katana.

The Sho-sa drank his sake slowly, deliberately. Almost as if he was drawing this out because he knew it was wearing on Ace.

Then he took the short, barely curved blade and drove it into himself.

Ace was in motion almost before the blade was fully inserted. Hiro Yamada had barely begun to turn the penetration into a cut before his head fell from his shoulders.

Still standing over him, the Star Colonel studied the sword in his hands. Then he bent down, removed the shorter sword from Hiro's hands.

"What are you doing with them?" asked the tai-sa, voice level and not accusing.

"I will clean them… and then I think I will keep them."

"As trophies?"

"Neg," Ace corrected him. "As a reminder." These people do not think the way the Clans do. Not even the way the dark caste do. It's deeper than language. And that gap will be harder to conquer than their planets. How do we sway their souls?

Thunder Rift, Trellwan

Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth

10 May 3050

Victor's Victor was buried in the snow, which was something that really wasn't recommended. His reactor was at minimal power, barely enough to keep the instruments working, but that was still warm enough that snow around the chest was melting slowly away, then refreezing as ice around the colder hips and legs. Sooner or later, the 'mech would either be uncovered by the melting or the ice would be thick enough he'd need help to remove it.

Hopefully both sooner and later would be after the target of this ambush arrived.

Victor sneezed. While the reactor's ambient heat was enough to keep his cockpit above freezing, it wasn't much above that and he was only wearing shorts and an inactive cooling vest. Needing to be ready to move on short notice made pulling on his parka impractical so he was using it as a blanket. This would be a hell of a way for a good Tharkad boy to die, he thought to himself. Whose stupid idea was this… oh wait, it was mine… If half of C Company come down with pneumonia, Galen Cox will kick my ass.

He couldn't even blame the Hauptmann for his being the one out here on ambush. Victor had volunteered his lance for this, since one lance was needed to bury the other one.

And he had his lance at least - even if it was dead men's shoes.

The invaders - Clan Jade Falcon - had wrecked the Twelfth Donegal Guards in the course of an afternoon. While Victor could proudly say that he hadn't frozen up or otherwise embarrassed himself, that was only a very personal consolation. The enemy's armored infantry had dropped right on the command vans, taking out most of the staff, while a thrust of battlemechs had driven right through the second battalion to relieve the infantry before they could be overrun in turn.

With everyone above the rank of regimental commander out of contact, Colonel Hawksworth had been faced with something that reminded Victor far too much of the dreaded La Mancha scenario, except worse. Victor had know that staff at the Department of Military Education were working to overhaul that exam after Kai Allard-Liao's draw and his own unprecedented victory, and this looked like being excellent material for them to use to make it even harder.

Despite that, Colonel Hawksworth's orders had shown the difference between a seasoned officer and academy cadets. Faster than Victor could have imagined, the Guards had reformed with their armor and infantry into a pincer movement on the Jade Falcon advance, while support elements scrambled to relocate out of the path of the fighting.

It had almost worked. It could have worked, except the Jade Falcons fought like nothing Victor had even heard of. It wasn't just their 'mechs, although he'd have killed for something that could perform like the Summoner he'd battled briefly. His Victor was one of the most advanced 'mechs built since the First Succession War but it was outmatched in every way by a 'mech that gave up ten tons to the assault 'mech.

It was faster, it jumped further, it sported not only a Gauss Rifle and SRMs but also a large pulse laser in place of the two medium lasers on the prince's Victor. And it could take a pounding too - only the addition of Galen's LRMs and Jon Fedorov's Rifleman had been enough to push the Summoner back far enough that they could disengage. Or rather, Galen and Victor had disengaged. Jon's Rifleman's cockpit had been breached by a parting shot from the Summoner.

Fighting like furies, the Jade Falcons had torn apart Hawksworth's spearhead. A chill went through Victor even now (not something he wanted under these circumstances) as he remembered the colonel's last command: "Fall back. Nikolai, get them into the mountains! It's up to you now!"

A moment later, his Thunderbolt swarmed by more battle armor, the colonel had yanked the safeties on his own reactor. The 'mech and infantry had disappeared in a flash of silvery fire that shook the entire battlefield.

What was left of the proud Twelfth Donegal Guards had obeyed, limping into the cave-riddled mountains around Thunder Rift. There were supply caches there, and Hawksworth's prescient orders had the techs and other support staff already on the move and able to join the retreat. For now, they were a refuge.

It wasn't going to turn this around though. Now, three days later, there were Jade Falcon patrols combing the passes, covered by copious aerospace support. Just hitting back had the risk of revealing the Guards' hiding places, but their supplies wouldn't last forever.

While he wasn't senior enough for the command conferences to decide what to do about this, Victor had at least been given his shot at lance command. Leutnant Gordon and Oberleutnant Feintuch hadn't made it into the mountains, so Galen had consolidated C Company into two lances and given Victor his own first taste of command.

A flicker on his passive sensors woke Victor from his reverie. Something was coming their way, and it could only be what he was waiting for. He pushed the parka off him and pumped his arms back and forth, trying to get the blood flowing. Meanwhile the computers did their best to couple data from thermal, seismic and magscan sensors, painting a picture of what he was dealing with.

Battlemechs - or rather these Omnimechs that the Clans were using. It was hard to say if they had battlearmor clinging to them, so he'd have to assume that they did and that they'd be fighting the 'toads', as troopers had started calling them.

Setting aside that variable, it looked like two light 'mechs probing ahead, a medium staying in close overwatch and a pair of heavies at the back. That wasn't ideal but it was what they'd planned for. It had been working for the Jade Falcons so far, and they didn't seem to vary their approach without a clear reason to. Which, as Victor's instructors had gone to pains to point out to him, led to predictability. It was always better to have some options baked into your doctrine rather than doing the same thing every time.

In 3028, it had led to the DCMS across the entire Lyran front getting caught with an influx of fresh and inexperienced soldiers right when they were hit by the biggest offensive attempted in over a century. Here, hopefully, it would give the Jade Falcons a small taste of their own medicine.

Victor watched the icons crawl closer and closer to those of his lance, finger hovering over the button that would bring his reactor up to full operational level. This was the risky moment. His own sensors wouldn't pick up a mech in this state unless he was right on top of them or he knew exactly what to look for, but there were better sensors. If the Clans had something like the Capellan's latest generation Raven - and they might! - then he would be picked up before they could spring the ambush. That would be bad.

He didn't think that they did though - or if they did, they weren't showing signs of it. The omnimechs observed carrying out these patrols were the same configurations that had been seen in action, and to fit the sizable electronic packages for active probes would probably require stripping away some of the armament if the 'mechs worked the way the briefings from the Wolf Dragoons suggested.

The blips moved closer and closer. They showed no sign of alarm, confident that they could deal with anything out here. Victor didn't like to admit it, but they weren't wrong. A straight fight between the five Jade Falcons and all eight 'mechs of C Company wouldn't favor the Donegal Guards, even if Elementals weren't being considered.

The light 'mechs parted ways to comb through the pass and the nearest was getting so close to Sonny Semiramis' Wolverine that he was almost sure to be detected. Victor hit the button for his reactor and tightened his grip on the controls. Before the weapons were even online, he had the Victor standing, ice cracking around its legs.

As the snow cleared and his active sensors went live, Victor saw the nearest light 'mech was already turning its guns on Semiramis. Lasers, missiles and even an autocannon were doing a frantically alarming amount of damage to the Wolverine's armor, but the Kit Fox wasn't managing to concentrate the hits enough to take the larger 'mech out as it shifted to stand.

The weapons came online and Victor hit the trigger for his SRMs while the rest of his armament was waiting for capacitors to charge. The quartet of missiles burst from the launcher on his 'mech's chest and spiraled across the snowscape towards the Kit Fox. Only one hit, but that was enough to alert the mechwarrior that Semiramis wasn't the only threat.

The Kit Fox sidestepped to try to keep the Wolverine between itself and Victor's firepower. He could see a second Kit Fox sprinting in as reinforcements - and no doubt the medium would arrive as soon as it could.

"Toads!" Semirami yelled in warning and dropped his 'mech flat, trying to crush the armored infantry beneath him. The move also left the Kit Fox exposed as its cover was suddenly lost.

Victor twitched the crosshairs delicately across the front of the low-slung 'mech and fired the rest of his arsenal, joined by the Thunderbolt and Griffin that made up the rest of the lance. Missiles, lasers and the brilliant flare of the Griffin's PPC slashed through the air, some of it wasted on the snow around or behind it. But Victor's gauss rifle proved the decisive strike - the Kit Fox's cockpit was smashed inwards as over a hundred kilograms of tungsten steel smashed into it at several times the speed of sound, exiting the other side of the cockpit an instant later, accompanied by a spray of what had once been the mechwarrior inside.

"Good shot, LT!" shouted Suzume from her Thunderbolt.

"Lucky," he snapped. "Get rid of the toads. Hauptmann, we're at Second Base. Go!" Victor strode his Victor forwards, firing both lasers a second time to punch both shots into one of the Elementals. The beams slashed deep into the suit's armor but didn't manage to finish it off. The warrior inside ejected his missile pack and raced fearlessly towards the Victor.

A burst of machinegun fire from Suzume's Thunderbolt ended that - at least some of the bullets must have found a hole made by the lasers and bounced around inside the battle armor, to the fatal detriment of the occupant. With her other arm, the mechwarrior fired her large laser into a second elemental. It severed one leg but the man inside still fired both his SRMs up at the Thunderbolt standing over him.

Suzume ignored the minor damage and stamped one massive foot down, putting a stop to that. Another elemental was flung to the floor by Semiramis in his Wolverine and he too stamped on the Clan warrior.

"Incoming," warned Jerry Hogan. He fired off LRMs towards the other Kit Fox. He couldn't use the Griffin's PPC again, he'd detached it from the right fist in order to seize one arm of the fallen omnimech.

Victor did the same with one of the bird-like legs. "Leave them to the command lance."

Sure enough, missiles from Galen Cox's Crusader and rest of the Hauptmann's lance started raining down on the Kit Fox, forcing the mechwarrior to break off and evade. Between the Archer, the 6-A JagerMech variant and Cox's Crusader, fully a hundred LRMs were converging on the bird-like light 'mech and the mechwarrior had the sense to know he couldn't avoid heavy damage if more than a few of them hit home.

"Nova coming into view," Cox advised. "Hustle hustle, people."

Victor's lance were doing their best, between them dragging thirty tons of mostly intact omnimech with them. Moving in concert like this wasn't something focused on much in the academy, and for some mysterious reason none of the other mechwarriors had been willing to risk damage to their own 'mechs in a practise run.

The entrance to the cave they'd arrived through loomed before them. "Third base," Victor reported as soon as they were inside and moving through the shadows. A transport truck was waiting for them, but they'd need to get through two kilometers of cavern floor first.

"Blake's blood, it's like fighting a damn disco ball!" shouted Stanowski.

"Back off!" shouted Cox.

There was an explosion that rocked the cave. Stones fell from the ceiling, pelting Victor's canopy. Clearly one of C Company had not been lucky.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Cox's Crusader march into the cave, followed by Elbing's Archer. The seventy ton warmachine fired its aft lasers, something must be right behind them.

As tempting as it was to try to rush, Victor knew he'd just make it harder for the rest of his lance. All he could do was keep the same steady march that would let them stick together. This was the part of the mission that had been given to Cox's lance.

Undaunted by a mere pair of medium lasers, the crab-like shape of a Clan Nova entered the cave and Elbing barely turned his Archer in time to take the barrage of lasers from the medium 'mech against its side rather than its weaker rear armor. As it was, the salvo left the Archer's arm and flank visibly glowing as gouged armor panels tried to radiate the heat transferred by the impact.

Olaf Piederson's Hunchback stepped in to shield its larger counterpart. Victor could imagine the face of the Nova's pilot - first alarm at seeing one of the most formidable infighters ever design facing it at point-blank range, followed by relief that the massive autocannon was clearly out of action.

And then the cavern mouth was full of fire as scores of crude rockets - not much more than LRMs stripped of much of their guidance package - crashed out of the improvised rack that took the place of the autocannon and the Hunchback's right arm.

Close to a full ton of explosives hammered the Nova physically backwards, green armor blackened or replaced by craters.

Lasers and SRMs from the Crusader and Archer added to the fusillade.

"Home-run!" shouted Cox. "I say again, home -"

And then the roof did fall in.

Not all of it, just the sections above the entrance. Explosive charges carefully placed by the handful of demo specialists available triggered and dropped several tons of stone onto the Nova. Only the largest and most powerful of Battlemechs could have survived that, and despite the Clan's advances in many fields, the Nova wasn't built to withstand that. The deadly warmachine was left half-buried, one shoulder visibly smashed by the impacts.

"Keep going," Cox ordered, turning his Crusader to follow Victor's lance. "We haven't dealt with the heavies… or that Kit Fox."

For all the Hauptmann's reasonable concerns, there was no sign of pursuit as the little column walked through the towering caves towards the transport.

"Stanowski?" asked Suzume, quietly.

"Not a chance, sergeant," Cox told her gently. "They got him right in the ammo bins and there wasn't a chute."

She sighed. "At least it would have been quick."

On that somber note, they reached the truck and with no less than seven 'mechs to handle it, they were able to lift the salvaged Kit Fox up and onto the back of it. A technical crew hastily secured it with heavy chains. "Any sign of pursuit, Hauptmann?" asked one of them, using the comm built into his arm bracer.

Cox gestured dismissively with one arm of his Crusader. "Not yet. But they'll dig out the entrance and then they'll start combing through these caves."

Fortunately they weren't anywhere near the current base of the Twelfth. The tangle of caves stretched for hundreds of miles, the result of long-ago ocean currents and reinforced by the occasional torrent from the glaciers that were all that remained of those waters.

That left them a long march, careful to avoid leaving a trail that could be followed. But that just made the caverns actually in use feel so much more secure once they finally arrived, late in the day.

A few cheers went up at the sight of the Clan 'mech on the flatbed, but Victor thought he saw some long faces too. It would hardly be a secret that eight 'mechs had gone out and only seven of the Guards had come back.

C Company parked in two neat lines near the tent being used to house the headquarters. It looked strange, but the canvas kept off dust from the roof and kept heat in. Important because the mountains were as cold as the rest of Trellwan, colder than most. The Grey Death Legion had famously fought a guerilla war out of these caves against the Kuritan occupation a quarter of a century ago, Victor hoped that the Twelfth's resistance would serve as well.

Victor donned the parka and heavy trousers before climbing down from his 'mech. Fortunately he'd taken no damage - it would be days before Semiramis' Wolverine was fit again. And making those repairs would take up stocks of armor. It was fortunate that the damage was no deeper… The mech would fight again, unlike poor Stanowski and his JagerMech.

Hauptmann-Kommandant Nikolai VanLees emerged from the tent to welcome them back. "Good work, Cox. All of you," the officer corrected himself, glancing at the warriors. "Stanowski?"

Cox shook his head.

The commander of Red Brigade - the Guard's third battalion, named for its usual role as an opfor in training exercises against other units stationed near Trellwan - sighed. He had inherited command of what remained of the RCT since he was senior among the battalion commanders. No colonel or leutnant-colonel had made it to the Thunder Rift. "One more to remember. But you brought back what we needed." He looked up at the damaged 'mech. "And remarkably undamaged."

"Leutnant Steiner-Davion took the cockpit out," Victor's commander reported. "It was neatly done."

"Well done, Leutnant. Well done. With a sample of the Clan's technology, hopefully NAIS can start working out how to replicate it."

"How are you going to get it back there, sir?" asked Suzume.

VanLees shook his head. "Need to know, sergeant. Try not to think about it." He indicated the two officers of C Company. "Come with me."

Victor and Cox followed the Hauptmann-Kommandant into the tent. It was quiet inside, the sides insulating the interior against noise as well as cold. A few techs were working at setting up electronic equipment, but most of it wasn't active. Powering them up might cause enough heat or electromagnetic side-scatter to be picked up by the Falcons, so most systems were used only when needed.

Tearing a strip of paper from one printer, VanLees studied it and then placed it on the table, dropping a magnetic paperweight that would pin it to the metal surface. "The answer to your mechwarrior's question is that one of our dropships will need to take it to a jump point. We're still in limited communication with the Federated Commonwealth and a Scout-class has jumped in at a pirate point in the outer system. As far as we can tell, they haven't been picked up by the Jade Falcons yet. It's a chance."

The box must be one of the K-class transmitters, Victor thought. Not as fast as an HPG but it was a technology that even ComStar was believed to be ignorant of. One of the Federated Commonwealth's greatest secrets, one that the Jade Falcons might not guess at. Saving that from the lost headquarters complex might be worth more than a company of battlemechs.

"One dropship," Galen observed. "I know a few people were hoping we could evacuate."

Victor made a noise that was the start of a protest, but bit it back.

"We're not going to win here, leutnant. Trellwan is the Falcons' and it'll be a long time before we can change that." VanLees sank into a chair and exhaled slightly. "If we could evacuate remains of the Twelfth to refit to fight for worlds that might be saved then that would be the right thing to do, but the one jumpship available can only carry a single dropship so all I can do is commit to pinning down as much of the invasion force here as a garrison as I can."

"Can one dropship make the run out to the pirate point?" Victor asked. "The Falcons have a sizeable aerospace force."

"Two of our Leopards are being stripped of everything they don't need," VanLees told him. "They'll launch towards a more obvious pirate point, drawing off pursuit. Then the Condor carrying your prize and our wounded will take off and hopefully avoid notice or at least be too far ahead of the Falcons. They may assume an infantry transport isn't important enough to follow."

"It's still a gamble," Cox observed. "But I can't think of anything else that would stack the odds better in our favor."

"Your approval fills me with warmth, Hauptmann." VanLees paused and then grimaced. "That wasn't a reprimand. You've done well. I'll be leaning on you… but you are also down to half a company. I'm going to roll C Company into what's left of E Company, it makes more sense than operating as a demi-company."

"Seven mechs isn't half, quite," pointed out Victor.

Cox looked at him, then the Hauptmann-Kommandant. "He's not stupid, but he does tend to… over-focus."

"Well, that can be trained out of him. You're going on the dropship," VanLees said, pointing at Victor.

"What?!"

"You are too valuable to the Federated Commonwealth to stay here running a resistance movement. You also know too much. Your capture would be a disaster on a number of levels." The veteran shook his head. "While we had no way out, I was willing to deploy you but now I have an alternative."

"Sir, that dropship is for the wounded. I'm fit to fight!" Victor protested. "My mech's fine, and you need every soldier you can."

VanLees sighed heavily. "I respect your courage, your highness."

"I'm here as a leutnant, not a prince!"

The Hauptmann-Kommandant's shoulders slumped. "Hauptmann?"

Cox rested one hand on Victor's shoulder. "He's a good lance commander. Kept his head, focused on his mission. He has the vices of those virtues, but I think he has the makings of a valuable officer."

That was the highest compliment that Victor had heard from his commander. He brightened…

And then his arm was wrenched up and backwards. There was a moment of blinding pain as his arm popped out of the shoulder joint. Victor screamed.

"And now he's wounded," Cox continued. "Nothing permanent, but you won't be fit to pilot for a little while."

Victor said something he immediately regretted about Cox's mother. Partly because it was undeserved, partly because the two senior officers looked at him as if he was twelve.

"Take him to the dropship, Hauptmann." VanLees offered his hand to Cox. "And take your kit as well. Someone needs to keep him in line. Maybe work on the accepting legitimate orders part. The Nagelring seems to have trouble with that."

Cox shrugged. "To be entirely fair, I'm told I took a while to learn that myself. Maybe it's an issue with the standard academy curriculum…"

Edo, Turtle Bay

Pesht District, Draconis Combine

13 May 3050

The building's windows were broken, glass scattered across the street. Ace could smell smoke but there was no sign of anything still burning. As he disembarked from the armored personnel carrier, he saw crowds watching quietly, held back by temporary barricades and a line of soldiers holding automatic shotguns or riot shields and tonfa. No, not soldiers. They had pink and white stripes on their protective gear. That marked them as the Civilian Guidance Corps - law enforcers.

"Is the fire out?" he asked the man who seemed to be senior amongst them.

"Who are you?" the man asked, looking irritated. Then his eyes widened in recognition. "Ah. Yes, sir." He bowed stiffly after a moment's hesitation. "The surviving staff extinguished the fire and the local fire service have sent a car to assure that they did so successfully."

Ace returned the bow, doing his best to match the degree of it. "Good. Is there any sign of additional explosives?"

"No sir. Initial reports are that a man threw a device into the bar and fled on foot. The explosion was almost immediate, so this is likely a hit and run not a placed explosive." The CGC officer seemed hesitant to say as much.

"I will trust your judgment," Ace told him. "We are both warriors and this is your field of expertise, quiaff?"

The man frowned. "I am not a soldier. We are… we were subject to the Ministry of the Judiciary. Not part of the DCMS."

With a shake of his head, the young Star Colonel gestured to the buildings around them and to the crowds. "Your job is to protect these people?"

"From criminal threats, yes."

Ace tilted his head slightly. "We have a caste system and those who protect the Clan and its people are our warriors. Whether it is on the battlefield or these streets. You and your corps will have to learn to function as part of the warrior caste." And he should give orders to have proper uniforms prepared and issued. It would be a good use of the local currency - who knew how long it would take to replace that with Kerensky credits? In the meantime, seeing the CGC in Diamond Shark uniforms would make it appear that law and order was on the side of the Clan.

The APC's engine shut down and Ace was joined by Julius and Michel, the Star Commander and the bondsman both wearing field gear and carrying rifles.

"How many casualties?" Ace asked.

"Three of your people."

"Two wounded, one dead," Michel said harshly. "There must be a reckoning."

Ace nodded. Given bidding, having to wait for one replacement to arrive and two warriors to recover wasn't crippling. But what if it became ten and twenty. Or a hundred and two hundred. This couldn't be allowed to continue. "Do you have a suggestion?" he asked idly.

Michel nodded. "Deploy one of our 'mechs here and crush a building every few minutes until the culprit is surrendered," he said matter of factly. "I doubt that a coward like this will surrender himself, but the community will give him up rather than lose their homes. And the sight of leveled buildings will remind them not to challenge us again."

Ace was very conscious of the expressions around him. "That could work," he conceded thoughtfully, ignoring the horrified faces of the crowd in easy earshot and the forced lack of expression by the CGC officer. "Julian, explain to Michel."

"That would work as long as we have 'mechs here," the Star Commander pointed out. "In this city, I mean. But we will be moving on and the planet's garrison won't necessarily keep that level of presence here." Then he reached over and gripped Michel's shoulder forcefully. "And these are our people, now."

The former Steel Viper tried to hide the way his shoulder being crushed by Julian's hand must be paining him. "Including the one who threw the bomb?"

"Yes. And we do punish our own," Ace confirmed. "Tell me, officer. What do we know about him?"

"Nothing definite," the man replied. "One of my men thinks the face may be known as one of the Ryugawa-gumi."

"That what?" asked Julian, releasing Michel. (The bondsman tried to be discreet about rubbing his shoulder).

"A… chivalrous organization."

Ace considered that. "Rivers and lakes?" he asked, remembering a reference he'd heard in his youth to those who moved among the Clans' civilian castes while remaining as independent as those of the castrum. Dark caste, but a different flavor from that he'd grown up with.

There was relief on the officer's face. "Yes, exactly."

"I do not understand," admitted Michel. "Is this a Diamond Shark custom?"

He shook his head. "No, all societies have them in one form or another. No system of rules can accommodate all possibilities, not even the laws of the Founder - or in this case, of the Draconis Combine. Someone needs to remain… fluid. Like oil in machinery, to smooth the edges and deal with the points of friction. But because they don't operate by the rules of society, governments usually remain at one remove from them."

Michel shook his head. "Clan Steel Viper has no such people."

"You probably never came across them. Warriors rarely do, in my experience," Ace told him. "We are better at clear cut matters, while they deal with… gray areas."

"But if they are fighting against us… That makes them an enemy!"

"If," Ace clarified. "They remain people. It could be one reckless member, which is forgivable so long as it is corrected for. On the other hand, if they have decided that they will fight against Clan Diamond Shark rather than adapting and fitting in with us… well, we need someone for that role but it need not be this… Ryugawa-gumi."

"So what will you order?" Julian asked.

"For now?" Ace shrugged. "How many civilians were hurt, officer?"

"Four. And three are dead."

He exhaled. "This man, whoever he is, did more damage to natives of Turtle Bay than to warriors. I will have our doctors consult with those already here. It may be that we can help them in ways that you cannot. Unfortunately, that is not the case for the dead."

"No, I would suppose not," the officer said. "But access to military doctors will be welcome. There are never enough trained doctors outside of the DCMS."

Julian frowned. "That's an odd shortage. Why are more not trained if there is a need?"

"Ah… the previous Lord Kurita believed that medical resources were best focused entirely on the military."

"He what?" Michel spoke, for once, for all three of the Clansmen. "You are joking, quiaff?"

"It's no joke, sir. Lord Takashi is more generous, but the hospitals remain understaffed."

Ace shook his head. "That will take time to correct. I will not mark myself as a liar by saying medical access is equally accessible to everyone in our Clan, but all the Castes are allocated resources to their needs as best we can. I will report that, so we can at least begin planning." He glanced at Julian. "The scientist caste will be… infuriated, quiaff?"

"Aff. I believe medical records are something they were eager to examine." The older warrior shuddered slightly. "I do not volunteer to tell them."

"Noted." Ace turned back to the officer. "Very well. As for these… Ryugawa-gumi? I assume word can be sent to them?"

"Yes sir."

"Send me information on them and try to establish whether this is indeed one of theirs. The only way they can prove he is not is by finding him for us, which would be helpful."

Michel folded his arms. "What if he is?"

"Then they will have the choice between surrendering him to us, or going to war against Clan Diamond Shark," Ace told him. "In which case you will be smashing the buildings associated with them, while I will be announcing their determination to fight us to the last drop of other's blood. Let us see how much sympathy they garner when it is clear they are shedding more blood of the people of this world than of our Clan."