“But they would, Star Colonel. You would see to it with such tactics. A population may be held only by popular support or overwhelming force. Such terrorist tactics would ensure that you could never earn the first, and I believe that the Steel Wolves do not have enough manpower for the second. Not”—he held up a hand—“without abandoning all other military considerations.”

Torrent calmed, but in a glance at the wallscreen Raul could tell it was by sheer force of will over emotion. The Star Colonel’s brown eyes looked deadened and flat as he asked, “You are willing to gamble on that?” Raul thought that the entire room might be holding its breath.

“Of course I am not.” Powers spoke in a sad, formal voice. “My first charge is the safety of Republic citizens and residents on Achernar, as it should be with you, Star Colonel. I had not realized that you had so completely foresworn your own oath of service.”

Tassa actually leaned back, as if expecting Torrent to leap through the airwaves with hands ready to grab for Powers’ neck. “And you stain my honor again! I will have justice. A Trial of Grievance, Sir Powers. I will require you to accept personal responsibility for all Swordsworn actions.”

Which Raul believed was only proper, no matter Sandoval’s directions. The Swordsworn were Republic troops. Kyle Powers, however, had the larger picture still in mind.

“I accept your challenge,” the Sphere Knight said with formal grace and a half bow. “In return, I call on you to answer for the Steel Wolves, and swear on your personal honor that there will be no escalation of manpower on Achernar.”

Powers would pull the teeth from any Steel Wolf threat to bring larger forces to bear against the world, limiting the fighting to forces at hand. Of course, if the Steel Wolves were also hitting Ronel, they likely did not have the strength to bring a secondary assault against Achernar anyway.

Still, Torrent balked. “What you are asking is beyond the scope of a personal Trial, Sir Powers.”

“Then we shall expand on our Trial. A small, combined arms force each. A test of your command against my own.” He nodded to one side, and Blaire fed a crystal into a data slot. “I am already transmitting my force composition. I expect you to match them with equal strength.”

Caught out by the Knight Errant’s preparations, Star Colonel Torrent paused for only a brief second. Then, “Bargained well and done! I will meet you on the River’s Run Flatlands in two days time.”

And then his transmission cut out to a field of gray static.

The attending soldiers cheered as Powers also stepped back from the comms station, secure in their belief for the Sphere Knight. Already a daring oddsmaker was calling out wagers, but of course there were no takers in this room. Even at long odds, no one would put money on the Steel Wolves. Except perhaps for Tassa, Raul amended, but even she was apparently politic enough not to answer the wag’s challenge.

Or perhaps it wasn’t politics, he noticed, following her gaze to the data crystal that Colonel Blaire retrieved from the station and then handed back to Kyle Powers. Her pointed gaze betrayed her hunger to be involved in this challenge. Raul figured she had as good a chance as any. Powers might go with heavier armor assets and battlesuit infantry alone, of course, but the junior MechWarrior was willing to guess that Powers had rounded out his combined-arms force with a second BattleMech. Would the Knight Errant publish the list beforehand? Or summon a briefing among command-level officers first?

Then Powers turned, and saw Raul through a gap in the crowd. “Captain Ortega,” he called, interrupting Raul’s thoughts. He gestured Raul forward, then turned for a word with Blaire as Raul and Tassa elbowed their way up through the charged crowd of soldiers.

“Sir,” Raul answered, presenting himself to the Sphere Knight.

Powers handed him the data crystal, pressing it securely into the MechWarrior’s hands. “Pull the duty records for every man on that list. Bring them to Colonel Blaire’s office in one hour. We’ll go over them together.”

“You want my input?” Raul asked, feeling a small swell of pride for at least being invited in on the review session.

Powers looked a great deal graver, though. “I think I should have it,” he told Raul. “Your name is on the list, after all.”

His warm surge of pride gave way quickly to a sharp, two-edged thrill as hands slapped him on the back and a new cheer went up for the ‘defender of Achernar.’ He had been chosen. Not Tassa and not Clarke Diago despite Diago’s seniority. Then the immensity of the task before them reared up and washed over him like the final deluge sweeping over a drowning man. “S-sir! Captain Diago—”

“Is a fine officer and MechWarrior,” Powers agreed. “And he helped me create the list to begin with, so let’s concentrate on more important details.”

Raul’s head swam with important details, not the least of which was his quick rise in importance among the Achernar militia. If only his father had lived to see this. If only Jessica understood. He shook his head lightly, trying to clear the wayward thoughts. “Such as?” he asked, looking for guidance.

“Such as preparing ourselves against the best Star Colonel Torrent can throw at us.” Powers leaned in closer, dropping his voice for Raul alone. “Make no mistake, Raul, this is one battle that Torrent is going to take very personally.” He pulled back, and gave Raul a heartening smile. “Now how about those files?”

“Yes, sir,” he said, forcing some cheer into his voice for the sake of those soldiers around him. Raul knew that he didn’t fool Powers for a moment. The Knight’s sharp eyes cut through any cloak of pretense. What was more disconcerting, however, was the fact that Powers was obviously quite busy maintaining his own pretenses with Raul.

And that was a sobering thought for Raul to take with him as he fought his way free of the room.

Sonora Plateau

Achernar

4 March 3133

Achernar’s sun hid behind a thick gray shroud. Sharp, westerly gusts pushed around a few heavier, lower thunderheads, swirled dust up off the Sonora Plateau, and tugged at Raul’s dark curls as the MechWarrior jogged a short distance from the mobile command vehicle to The Republic’s ad-hoc staging grounds.

Kyle Powers stood in conference with Tassa Kay and Colonel Blaire at the foot of his Jupiter. He wore the same stripped-down uniform as Raul—combat boots and shorts, a cooling vest worn over a light T-shirt—ready for the heat of a BattleMech cockpit. As in the briefing rooms and command centers, the Sphere Knight drew the eye, focusing himself at the center of all around him. It was the confident set of his shoulders, and his encouraging gaze. It was the way he seemed simply to exude a stronger physical presence.

Powers glanced over, as if feeling Raul’s gaze on him, then nodded once, decisively, and continued his conversation.

Swinging a wide berth around the assembled news reporters, Raul also veered away from the other officers, looking for a moment alone. He couldn’t help being pulled toward the impressive Jupiter, though. Thirteen meters tall and weighing one hundred tons, the titan easily overshadowed his nearby Legionnaire. Raul saw the ’Mech’s origins as a Clan design in the narrow, turret-style waist and the modular-looking weapon ports. Heavy LRM racks at each shoulder, two PPCs riding low on either side of the slender cockpit canopy and a quad of fifty millimeter autocannons mounted in pairs on the lower arm, the Jupiter could deliver ’Mech-shredding damage at long or short ranges. For some reason, Kyle Powers had not painted the BattleMech in standard camouflage, instead opting for bands of tans, yellows and faded reds with one great red spot swirling in a storm over the Jupiter’s left chest. Unconventional, but not wholly inappropriate for the plateau’s high-desert terrain.