AUTHOR'S NOTES: A pretty talky chapter here, but this really sets up what's happening next in this series.

A few minor deviations from Battletech canon (as if a second Planting campaign wasn't enough). In canon, the Eridani Light Horse didn't start fighting the Clans until 3052, but in Lethal Heritage, it's mentioned that Hanse Davion ordered them to the Clan front very early in the war. So I compromised in that only one battalion of the ELH gets into action. (The character Simon Kroger commanded the 50th Heavy Cavalry of the ELH in 3025, so it stands to reason he'd still be around.) The 20th Arcturan Guards also didn't get into action against the Clans until later, and did very poorly; Hauptmann General Kincaide did command the 20th during the Clan War. Finally, while it is canon that the 12th Star Guards were destroyed by the Jade Falcons and Wolves in 3050, there was no Lexi Rowley commanding any of their units; she's an OC.

The Churchill quote that Kroger uses was a refrence to General John Lucas, commander of the failed Anzio landings in Italy in 1944.

Horatius

Planting, Jade Falcon Occupation Zone

14 November 3050

Calla Bighorn-Vlata looked over the large map spread out on the table in front of him, then the satellite reconnaissance pictures scattered around its periphery. The latter showed the Jade Falcons steadily falling back towards Fairfields, where there were cargo barges waiting for them. It didn't take a military genius to know where they were going: the Jade Falcons would evacuate across Blackett Strait to the Tri-Cities, where they could join the Choyer Garrison Cluster in holding off the 20th Arcturan Guards on the Tel Akbir Peninsula. Calla would have to bring down his DropShips and either execute a combat drop across the Strait outside of Clan fighter range with the 50th Heavy Cavalry Battalion of the Eridani Light Horse, or walk his 'Mechs under Blackett Strait—which was always an iffy proposition that few MechWarriors liked doing. In any case, he could not contest the Jade Falcons' withdrawal—his aerofighters would be at extreme range, while the Jade Falcons' fighters could operate for hours from the Tri-Cities over the Strait. The Germans learned that the hard way back in World War II, Calla thought, and straightened up. There was nothing for it.

"Dad?" The door to Calla's command post opened up; he had put it in the basement of Horatius' only hotel. He glanced up and saw it was Sheila, dressed in fatigues. There was no fighting today, so the Sentinels were resting. She came to attention, waited for him to nod, then handed him a printed readout. "Here's the butcher's bill from yesterday."

Calla looked over the readouts. The 133rd Falcon Fusiliers might have been bloodied, but the Sentinels had taken their share of casualties as well, and he was still reorganizing. Ten 'Mechs had been lost, though Master Tech Nicia Caii thought four might be salvageable. Five MechWarriors were dead—Carmotta Perry, David George, Michael Goodwin, Paul Jacques, Allen Calamari. All names Calla knew, all veterans; Jacques had been a lance commander. He'd have to find someone to command that lance now. Most of them had families that would need to be informed—he would have to find time to write letters. I'm getting too old for this shit, he thought sadly.

He set the readouts down and saw that Sheila was waiting patiently to be dismissed. That made him feel old too. He remembered the beautiful young woman standing in front of him, only three inches shorter than his own height, as a six year old tomboy covered in mud and grinning with a missing tooth, or as a ten year old girl hugging him and crying as she said goodbye to him, before he went out on a long raid into Kurita territory. Now not only was she grown, she had managed to turn a battle around the day before, leading a charge out of sheer force of will. Sheila was not only a MechWarrior, but a leader, and Calla felt so very proud of her. He had watched, his heart in his throat, knowing Sheila was making herself a target, and unable to do anything but watch.

"Dad?" Sheila was getting uncomfortable in the silence, as her father stared at her with mist in his eyes.

"Sheila…" He reached out and put his hands on her shoulders. "I…I just wanted to say you did really good yesterday. Damn good. I've always been proud of you, but maybe…I just haven't said it enough." He took a deep breath, let it out. "I love you, kiddo."

"Aw, Dad." Sheila hugged her father. He squeezed her, as if he could hold her forever and never let go. He felt something hard press into his chest, and pulled back, noticing the gold chain around her neck. "What's that?" He hadn't noticed it before, and knew that Sheila didn't wear dogtags; like many MechWarriors, she wore them around one ankle for identification purposes. There usually wasn't much left of MechWarriors that took head hits.

"Um…it's…uh…" Sheila stammered. Before she could stop him, Calla reached out and pulled the chain upwards. The engagement ring fell out between Sheila's breasts. "Um, Dad, it's not what you think!"

"I think that's an engagement ring," Calla said with a smile. "When did this happen? I know your mother doesn't know."

"It's not—it's a—" Sheila faltered under Calla's gaze, like she always had. "It…um…well, it's what it looks like…on Twycross…well, before that, really, um…" Sheila didn't know how to explain a somewhat sordid romance and her sex life to her father.

"I know who it is, Sheila. I just didn't know it was this far along."

Sheila wished she could sink into the floor. "You know?"

He nodded. "Since before Twycross. Unless it's someone new besides Max Canis-Vlata."

"Dad!" Sheila protested, afraid her father thought she was a slut. "Yeah, it's Max, but…how did you know?"

Calla's smile widened into a wide grin. "Since the night your mother came by to say hello. She noticed you were naked under the covers, but didn't think anything about it…until she saw a used condom in the trash can. Then she used the bathroom, remember? Max left one of his socks behind on the lawn outside of the barracks." Sheila turned beet red, and Calla tried not to laugh at his daughter's embarrassment.

She collapsed into a chair. "Oh God. Mom knows too?" Calla nodded. "And you two didn't say anything? How did you know it was even Max?"

"C'mon, Sheila. Give your old parents some credit. Everyone knows you two were dating. We didn't raise someone who sleeps around—despite your earlier indescretion with Tooriu Kku—so it had to be Max."

Sheila buried her face in her hands. "You know about Tooriu?"

"That's regimental rumor, kid. I didn't really believe it, but when you hear it from several people, you start believing it."

"I'm surprised you didn't kill him," Sheila said.

Calla sat in a chair across from him. "Sheila, it's tough for parents to hear that their daughter isn't a pure-as-the-driven-snow virgin, but you're a grown woman. Hell, you're a veteran MechWarrior now. It was bound to happen sometime. I'm glad you're with Max now—he's more mature than Tooriu." He pointed to the ring. "I'm also glad that you're planning on marrying him."

"I love him, Dad. He loves me. I'm serious," Sheila assured him. "Do you and Mom approve?"

"You'll have to ask your mother, but honestly, does it matter what we think?" Calla asked.

Sheila jumped out of her chair. "Dad, dammit! I've always wanted your approval—"

Calla stopped her with an upraised hand. "That's not what I meant, Sheila." He was quiet for a moment, looking at the wooden ceiling. "My folks died long before I met your mother, Sheila. Her parents didn't approve. I was just a mercenary MechWarrior with a company of independent mercenaries, trying to keep our heads above water, and here's Arla d'Erlon, with a pedigree of Davion nobility and a lineage that stretches back to the Napoleonic Wars. The Bighorn-Vlatas can trace our lineage back to Karelia, who died fighting Amaris, and fourteen generations of MechWarriors…and that and a C-Bill will get you a cup of coffee at the Old MechWarriors' Home." He laughed at the memory. "But we were in love, so Arla and I eloped and got married anyway. Her family wanted to disown her and get my head on a plate, but then we actually managed to kick ass in the Fourth War, so suddenly they were okay with the match."

Sheila remembered her grandparents, two friendly old people with white hair who spoiled their only granddaughter rotten when they managed to make the trip to New Avalon. She had heard this story before, of course. "Okay, but what's that got to do with me?"

"I was wondering if you were intending to continue the family tradition. I think your mother will want you to have a ceremony."

"No, Dad, we're not eloping. We just want to wait until after we've taken Planting, that's all."

Calla almost said that there was a possibility that neither Sheila or Max would survive the campaign, but he pushed that thought aside. He didn't want to believe that. Suddenly another thought occurred to him, and he felt himself go pale. "Sheila, you're not…you're not pregnant, are you?"

Sheila blinked. "What?" Then she frantically waved her hands. "No, no! Nothing like that! Max and I are very careful." She blew out a breath. "You think I would've done what I did yesterday if I was?"

"Your mother was two months with you when we got Tormana Liao's family off Highspire." He waved it off. "Never mind. Do Todd and Mira know?"

"Not yet," Sheila said, though now she wondered if they did know. There were few secrets in a regiment.

"Better tell them. I like having them happy, and Todd sober." He got up and kissed her on the forehead. "Well, allow your old man to say congratulations, anyway. Max is a good man. I know your mother approves."

"Thanks, Dad." She put the ring back under her shirt. "I guess that went better than I thought it would."

Calla shrugged. "I mean, I wasn't going to go find Max and do what your grandfather threatened to do to me."

"What's that?"

Calla grinned. "He went to go get a shotgun, and I hauled ass out the window."

One of the perks of being liberators was that the local population tended to be rather thankful. Though the people of Horatius had reported that the Jade Falcons' conduct had been "correct"—in that they hadn't looted, murdered or raped, and generally left the populace alone—they were still happy to no longer be subjects of the Clans. Luckily, the damage to Horatius itself had not been heavy, so that helped as well.

The Sentinels had been given hotel rooms when available, and as a reward for saving the left flank of the entire regiment, Sheila was one of them. She felt a little bad about it, especially as her company was spending the night out in the field, but Kaatha had merely laughed, remarked on how rank had its privileges, and sent her on her way. Now, standing under a shower with wonderfully hot water cascading over her, washing away the sweat and grime of two days, Sheila didn't feel so bad. It certainly beat washing in the fields, using a bucket and soap, hoping for clean water and a somewhat secluded area to wash in. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts, she thought.

There was a knock at the bathroom door. Sheila wiped the condensation off the shower. "Who is it?"

"Your beloved!"

Sheila grinned at Max's voice. "Max or Tooriu?" She couldn't resist.

"Both!"

"In that case, come on in!"

The door opened and Max came in, alone. "Aww," Sheila mock-pouted, "and here I was hoping to get double-teamed tonight."

"You'll have to make do with me. Mind if I join you?"

"Sure." Max stripped off his clothes, opened the curtain, and climbed into the shower with her. "I could use someone to wash my hair."

"Don't mind if I do." When her hair was down, Sheila's black tresses fell halfway down her back. Max washed it and then shampooed it carefully, as Sheila smiled and made appreciative noises. God, she's beautiful, Max thought. Okay, hold on, he told himself, and rinsed off her hair.

"Mmm, thanks." Sheila turned around and looked down. "Oh, my. Is that for me?"

"It's certainly not for anyone else."

She put a hand on his chest. "Well, hold on a second. We need to talk. Let me wash your back." Max dutifully turned around and Sheila began washing him. "My parents know about us."

Max sighed. "Had to happen sooner or later. Did you tell them?"

"No…Mom figured it out before Twycross. Remember the night you had to jump out of my bathroom window?" Sheila asked.

"More like shimmy, but yeah."

"Mom saw the condom in the trash and put two and two together. Or rather, one and one."

"Shit. She didn't say anything?"

"Nope," Sheila said. "She figured we were adults and it was none of her business. She told Dad, though." She shrugged. "He took it really well that we're engaged."

"Hell, half the regiment probably knows," Max told her. "I guess I'd better tell my folks later."

Sheila kissed his neck. "Much later." She rinsed off his back and had him turn around. "Well," she sighed elaborately, "guess it's about time we reached this stage of the relationship."

"What's that?" Sheila slowly got down on her knees. "Oh."

She looked up at Max. "I'll warn you that I'm not very good at this. First time Tooriu and I tried it, I, um…I gagged and almost puked on him."

Max swallowed. "Uh…well…do your best?"

It turned out that Sheila's best was actually pretty good.

Horatius

Planting, Jade Falcon Occupation Zone

16 September 3050

"That's the latest," Calla explained to Major Simon Kroger, who was peering at high-altitude reconnaissance photos. "The Jade Falcons have successfully evacuated across Blackett Strait."

Kroger, like Calla, was tall and wore glasses; both men were about the same age, though—much to Calla's chagrin—Kroger was still thin, whereas Calla fought a losing battle against his weight. "You decided not to contest it." Kroger made it a statement.

"No point in getting my pilots killed. We'll need them for the next phase of the operation anyway." Calla motioned to the map. "I plan on doing a combat drop on either side of the Tri-Cities. It risks splitting us up, but the Jade Falcons will have to split up too to contest both drops—and they don't have the numbers. It'll also take the pressure off the 20th Arcturan Guards. I think once we break them out of the Tel Akbir Peninsula, the Jade Falcons will retreat offplanet, and then it's home and beer."

Kroger spread his fingers over the Tel Akbir Peninsula. "Why in the hell is the 20th still stuck there, Commander? Better yet, why land them on a narrow peninsula anyway?"

"I hoped Hauptmann General Kincaide would move fast on landing and take the Tri-Cities while the Jade Falcons were still reacting to our landings here. It was a risk. Kincaide made it down just fine, but he didn't get off the peninsula fast enough, and the Falcons bottled him up." Calla shrugged. "It's not ideal, but at least he's tying down the Choyer Garrison Cluster for us." With an entire RCT, Calla didn't add; he didn't want to talk behind Kincaide's back. If I'd known Kincaide would get a case of the slows, I never would've put him there. Hell, I shouldn't have anyway. Calla thought he knew what Brian Kincaide's issue was: the 20th had sat on garrison duty on Aubisson too long. They were not inexperienced—in fact, they had successfully repulsed a Kurita raid only a few months previously, at the same time the Clans had launched their assault—but they were used to defensive fighting, not fast offensives.

"'I had hoped we were throwing a wildcat ashore, but all we got was a stranded whale,'" Kroger quoted.

Calla chuckled. "That's what Churchill would've said, anyway. Water under the bridge." He bent over the map. "I'll probably land my Alpha and Bravo Battalions here, west of the capitol. You'll land the 50th Heavy here, to the east; I'll put my Ceta Battalion under your command. They're understrength, but it'll keep you from getting bottled up too. Okay?"

Kroger nodded. "Okay with me." He moved a finger northwest. "We'll advance inland from Fort Pilum into the rear areas of the Choyer. They'll have the inside track, but even if they beat us back to the Tri-Cities, we can link up with the 20th Arcturan."

"We'll head northeast and link up here at the Dantron Meander. The Falcons will be surrounded on all sides with their backs to the sea. Hopefully they'll quit at that point—if they don't sooner," Calla said.

"When do we go?" Kroger asked.

"Ten days from now? That'll give me time to rest up and refit. I also want to send some empty DropShips over to Kincaide, make our friend Cavell Malthus think we're reinforcing there."

"Sounds good," Kroger agreed. "We'll need some time to discuss this anyway."

Calla hadn't wanted to bring it up, but now was as good a time as any. "Major, where's the rest of the Eridani? We could use them up on the line, and General Winston's sitting on Kikuyu."

Kroger was silent for a moment, and Calla worried he had offended the man. Then Kroger sighed. "The truth, Commander? The Clans might be Kerensky's forces returned."

Calla had heard that rumor. It was a better one than the Clans were aliens, or that they were simply a very well-armed hitherto unknown pirate kingdom. "Might be. So what?"

"For us, Commander, that hits us to our core. The Eridani Light Horse refused to go with Kerensky in the Exodus. We committed ourselves to keeping the flame of the Star League alive, until Kerensky's people returned. God knows we've tried, and we've paid for it, in blood. We were hoping the Federated Commonwealth unification might be the first step to a new Star League, but now these Clans come out of nowhere. They're tearing through us—you know that better than I do," Kroger said. "Well, if they are the old SLDF—which I'll admit they don't resemble much, but God only knows what 300 years did to Kerensky's descendants—they're clearly not here to found a new Star League, but conquer the Inner Sphere. We're fighting the very people we looked for all these centuries. A lot of the Eridani isn't sure what to do."

"I hate to ask this, Major," Calla told him, "but will your people fight?"

Kroger gave him a short, sharp nod. "Absolutely, Commander. I made that clear to the 50th before we left Kikuyu. They'll fight. They won't like it, but they'll fight. When I said we had to talk it over, I meant I need to meet with my company and lance commanders to figure out how we're going to do this."

"Oh." Calla laughed at himself, and put out a hand. Kroger shook it. "Well, Kerensky's heirs or not, we're going to either force these people offplanet or stomp their asses flat."

"Amen to that, Commander."

The door opened and Archibald Harrier, one of Calla's youngest staff officers, stuck his head in. "Commander, I hate to interrupt, but the battalion commanders are here, along with Major Rhialla."

Calla's eyebrows went up. "What's up? We didn't have a meeting scheduled this afternoon."

"Don't know, sir. No Clan attacks are going on. They just came in."

Calla turned to Kroger. "Well, maybe I'm facing a mutiny, Major," he joked. "Let me know what you come up with."

"Yes, sir." Kroger came to attention, then left. Harrier held the door open, and all three battalion commanders of the Sentinels—Mira Canis-Vlata of Alpha, Caitlin Houndlikov of Beta, and Dan Ormiston of Ceta—walked in along with Marion Rhialla. All four came to attention as well as Harrier closed the door. "At ease. What's up?" Calla repeated. "Are you here to get rid of me or something?"

Mira shook her head with a smile. "Nah, not yet. None of us want the responsibility."

"Oh good. Saved by laziness." Calla leaned back against the map table. "Go ahead."

To his surprise, the three battalion commanders looked at Rhialla. She took a step forward. "Calla, I'm going to be fucking honest with you. If it hadn't been for Sheila rallying that rout the day before yesterday, we'd be discussing defense plans for Gray Bay, or retreating offplanet by now, not crossing Blackett Strait."

Calla gave a shrug. "I don't think it was that bad. Sheila did damn well, no question, but I don't—"

"Calla," Mira interrupted, "we think Sheila is being wasted as a company commander."

"Okay," Calla said guardedly. "I agree she's got talent, if she can watch her mouth. I'm not following you, Mira."

Ormiston was now the one to speak. "Calla, I'm not going to beat around the bush. I don't think Sheila should run a lance or a company."

That surprised Calla; as far as he knew, Ormiston had nothing against Sheila. "Then what?"

"We think she should have a battalion," Mira said.

Calla's mouth fell open. It was dead quiet in the room for a few minutes until he found his voice. "She what?"

"We think she should have a battalion," Mira repeated.

He sat down in a chair, still in shock. "That's impossible, Mira. Where the hell am I going to find MechWarriors for a new battalion? Shit, we don't have enough to even fill out Ceta as it is—and that's assuming I go along with this fucked-up idea!"

"Calla, I know you don't think she's ready," Houndlikov said.

"You're damn right I don't think she's ready!" Calla exclaimed. "Because she isn't!" He shook his head. "This is the most insane thing I've heard, and I've heard some pretty insane things. Again, where would we even find MechWarriors?"

It was Ormiston that replied. "For now, they can come from Ceta Battalion. Some of them, anyway. We'll call for volunteers, and we'll vet them."

"That's nice, Dan, but what about Ceta?" Calla demanded. "It's already understrength. It's a two-company battalion."

"Again, for now, we can disband Ceta and distribute some of the MechWarriors to this new battalion, and some to replace losses in Alpha and Beta. Besides, weren't you already talking to Lexi Rowley about using the survivors of the 12th Star Guards' 1st Regiment to rebuild Ceta? There's enough MechWarriors under her command to completely rebuild Ceta even with adding a new battalion."

Calla took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "If she agrees. Lexi said she'd get back to me after we're done on Planting." Lexi Rowley had commanded the 1st Regiment of the famous 12th Star Guards on Steelton. Only about half the regiment survived being overrun by the Jade Falcons on Steelton. The rest of the 12th had been equally torn up by the Jade Falcons on Bensinger and by the Wolves on Icar. The Star Guards didn't have enough left to reform the unit, so most of the MechWarriors were trying to "catch on" with other units. Calla, who had known Rowley for years, offered her remaining people a place in the Sentinels.

"I think she will," Ormiston said. "And when she does, she's going to want command of that battalion. To be honest, Calla, I took over Ceta only because you asked, I'm one of the senior surviving officers off Persistence, and neither Todd Canis nor Marion here wanted it."

"True," Marion confirmed. "I don't want another battalion command, Calla. Not after what happened to my unit."

"I know, Marion, I know," Calla replied tiredly. "Okay, fine. Let's say we do have enough MechWarriors to fill out a new battalion to replace Ceta."

"Actually," Mira said, "we were thinking about forming this new unit with three companies instead of our usual four."

"That would make it a bit easier," Calla agreed.

"But the third company would be a mixed-arms unit, with tanks and infantry. Say, three platoons of tanks and one of groundpounders." Calla slumped in the chair in disbelief. "Calla, we have been saying that Dick Cannon's tankers are the red-headed stepchild of the Sentinels. We don't use them enough because we're all MechWarriors. Dick's patient and so are his people, but we're leaving firepower on the shelf."

"Because I'm worried those tanks will get creamed by the Clans," Calla told her. "But yes, that's true." He straightened up and gave it some thought. He had been thinking about doing more combined arms. Tanks were more vulnerable than 'Mechs, but they had their place on a battlefield—and Mira was right; he did tend to neglect his tanks. Richard Cannon was a good man, and Calla owed him a chance to show what his tankers could do, even against the Clans. The infantry was no issue; everyone in the Sentinels respected the Sentinels Light Infantry. "Okay, so a combined arms battalion. I like that idea. I'm not sold on Sheila commanding it when she's only commanded a company since June—and then barely, since she's been leading lances until here. It's going to look nepotistic as hell. The regiment might get pissed."

Houndlikov laughed. "I think they'll applaud it."

"Why's that?"

It was Rhialla that answered. "Calla, it's time we were fucking honest with ourselves. We're not getting any damn younger, much as I hate to admit it. None of the senior officers are. I'm fifty. Dan's forty-eight. Catherine here is forty-six. You're the same age, and so is Mira."

"No shit, Marion. What's the point?"

"Calla," Houndlikov said, "have you seen the Clan MechWarriors? They're young. I'm guessing the average age is somewhere around twenty or so. We've already said how old we are. With the exception of Sheila and one or two others, most of the company commanders are in their late thirties…but our line MechWarriors, they're Sheila's age, between eighteen and twenty-six. We have an age gap. Most Inner Sphere regiments do." She made a vague gesture towards the ceiling, and her battalion. "I don't know what they like. I don't know what music they listen to. I can't stand the way they dress off-duty. I can't relate to them. I can command them in combat, but I don't know them, not like I used to back in '39 or '44. And they think I'm an old battleaxe. They call me the Iceberg when they think I can't hear them."

"And I know what they call me when they think I can't hear them," Marion laughed. "Fact is, Calla, Sheila is their age. She knows them; they know her. They believe in her. When she decked Mary Scott, people cheered. They fucking cheered her the other day at Pascia Grove. She can beat the Clans, Calla. Most of us have fought them twice—Persistence and here. We lost on Persistence, and the word's still out on Planting. She's fought them five fuckin' times. She lost on Persistence, Rasalhague, and Blackjack, won on Twycross, and so far she's won here. Even when she lost, she managed to keep most of her people alive. She's fuckin' reckless, yes, but hell—weren't all of us at her age?"

"Yeah," Calla said. "And I made some mistakes that got people killed."

"Didn't we all," Marion said bitterly. "But I tell you what—I'll join this new battalion. I'll keep an eye on her. I can fight a battalion, even if I don't fucking want to. But I bet my ass that I won't have to. Sheila can beat the Clans, Calla," Marion repeated.

Calla glared at her. "You saying that we old fogies can't?"

"Fuck, no. Old age and treachery will always triumph over youth and vigor. But fact is, Calla, we've gotten kinda set in our ways."

"Calla," Mira jumped in, "we've been fighting mostly House Kurita since the Fourth War. We know them, we know the Mariks, we know Liao. But these Clanners are very different. The only reason we're not in the same spot Lexi Rowley is…well, we cheated on Persistence with those mines, and the Jade Falcons didn't want to take more casualties. The only reason the AFFC won on Twycross is because Kai Allard detonated those vibrobombs.

"The other day, Calla, your plan was perfect…if we were fighting the 2nd Sword of Light or Stapleton's Iron Hand. But those Jade Falcons—we outnumbered them damn near three to one, and they routed us. When was the last time we got routed? I don't remember." Mira reached out and put a hand on Calla's shoulder. "I'm not saying we should retire, Calla, or that old dogs can't learn new tricks. What I am saying is that we should get some new blood into command, someone who doesn't think like we do. Sheila doesn't have to unlearn what we do," Mira finished.

Calla was silent for awhile, his head in his hands. His commanders made a lot of sense. He agreed with them—but there was still the fact that Sheila was barely twenty years old. He had been twenty-three when he'd formed the Sentinels, back when they were just two lances. And it's also because I'm worried about my daughter, Calla admitted to himself. Because she's probably willing to do it, and will risk much to prove herself. Maybe too much. "Who would be her company commanders?"

"Cannon will choose someone for the tanks, but we were thinking Elfa Brownoak," Ormiston said. "Sheila would command her own company, of course, along with running her battalion. We'll find her a good lance commander to fight the 1st Company."

"Like me," Marion smiled.

"You'd take a demotion to lance commander?" Calla asked.

"Why not? I could use the rest," Marion laughed.

Calla was quiet again, then he started laughing and jumped to his feet. "Oh, what the hell. Why not? It's worth a try. She's going to need time to train a new battalion, though. And I want to inspect them when she's got them formed up."

"It's going to take us ten days to two weeks to get ready to cross Blackett Strait," Mira said. "That should be enough time. And we don't throw Sheila to the wolves—or in this case, the Jade Falcons—right off the bat." She moved past Calla and pointed to Fort Pilum. "At last report, there was only a Clan garrison company there, with Star League-era 'Mechs. She can crack Fort Pilum. We wouldn't use tanks there, but I don't think Dick will bitch if he gets more time to pick crews. Arla can support with infantry for the interior of the fort itself. It would give Sheila a chance to fight with two companies instead of one."

Calla nodded. "All right. Let me sleep on it…and talk to my wife about it. Right now, I need to really think about this. I've had enough surprises for one day." He sighed. "I very tentatively approve." He glanced at Fort Pilum on the map. "God help her."