As Jonah drove home, Turk’s expression stayed with him. Everyone needed someone they could trust with the important work. He had Horn, Turk and a few others. A few people, it seemed, had Henrik Morten.

Morten certainly seemed loyal enough, but his ethics looked quite malleable. Unfortunately, that’s all some people demanded. The people that Jonah valued were the ones who proved themselves beyond Jonah’s expectations, the ones who did a better job than he could have thought of ordering.

Turk was one of those. His face hadn’t changed much from the days in the Kyrkbacken militia, and it didn’t take much to push Jonah’s mind back to those days.

Kyrkbacken Militia HQ

Kyrkbacken, Prefecture VI

June–July 3110

The headline displayed in the scrolling marquee atop the newsstand read:

EXPEDITIONARY FORCE LOST.CAPELLANS DENY INVOLVEMENT.

Captain Jonah Levin was making his way through the public transit station when he saw the marquee and paused. After a moment’s consideration, he went over to feed his personal card into the newsstand’s payment reader.

The bored young clerk watching the transaction observed Jonah’s militia uniform and said, “Checking to see if you know any of the missing troops?”

“No. Just interested in what people have to say about why we’re doing it.”

A JumpShip was gone. One day it had been stationed near the Capellan border. The next day it was gone, and Republic military commanders had fallen completely silent about it. If they received any transmissions from it, or knew anything about its fate, they weren’t telling the public.

This was bad, Jonah knew. More and more voices were proclaiming that war with the Confederation was inevitable even before this ship disappeared, and those voices were only going to grow louder. But Jonah wasn’t sure The Republic was ready for conflict with the Capellans. Not yet.

Jonah took the news printout with him onto the public transit car and read the full story on his way to Militia Headquarters. Units from five planets spread over three Prefectures had been aboard the ship. The force had been touted as a prime example of the cooperative spirit of The Republic. Now it was gone, and Jonah wondered how cooperative those planets were feeling.

He checked the names of the planets. Elnath, Yunnah, Palos, Wei, and Holt. All border planets. All pivotal to The Republic’s defenses. We can’t afford to lose their support now, Jonah thought.

The newssheets offered a few personal reactions, mostly politicians and family members saluting the troops’ bravery. A few, though, questioned the buildup of force on the Capellan border and wondered why people from so many other planets needed to be involved. And this was only the first day of the story—things would get worse as time passed, especially if the missing JumpShip never turned up.

At the HQ transit stop, he exited the train and made his way through the main gate to the building where he had been assigned an office. The Kyrkbacken Militia was mostly a reserve force; the bulk of its personnel drilled one night a week, one weekend a month and two weeks out of the year. A small permanent cadre—of which Jonah was a member—provided administration, training and the framework of a regimental structure. All in all, the militia was a quiet, low-key posting for a young officer who needed to pay his dues before moving to a more interesting assignment.

Based upon the news stories, and upon the apprehensive energy pervading headquarters when he arrived, that peaceful time was about to end. He went to the cell-sized office that he shared with fellow militia captain Rafaella Graves, and found her already at work at her desk.

“Jonah,” she said.

“Raffi.” He nodded a greeting, then slipped into his chair and called up the desk files for this morning’s paperwork. “How did we manage to lose a JumpShip?”

“That’s the big question, isn’t it? I’ve squeezed a few bits and pieces from a few contacts I have near the border. They say the JumpShip might have wandered a little off course before it disappeared.”

“‘A little off course’? As in, into Capellan space?”

“That’s the gist of it, yeah.”

“They wandered into Capellan space and disappeared?”

“From what I hear.”

“Refresh my memory,” Jonah said, though he knew full well the answer to the question he was about to pose. “Do the Capellans like their borders being crossed?”

“Hmmm, I’m pretty sure they don’t.”

“So when a JumpShip disappears after wandering into their space, we can pretty well assume…”

“…the worst,” Raffi finished.

Jonah shook his head. “This is going to get worse. At least we have a pretty good vantage point from which to watch it all unfold.”

A month later, Jonah found out he was going to do more than watch.

“Called up? To where?”

“The border,” Raffi said. “First and Third Regiments both.”

“The border? What the hell? We’re supposed to be support for the border troops, not border troops ourselves! If we’re guarding the border, who’s guarding us?”

“I don’t think we’re guarding the border. We’re going to it, where we’re supposed to wait further orders.”

Jonah didn’t like the sound of that at all. “There aren’t too many places they can order us to once we’re at the border,” he said. “Tell me they’re at least equipping us decently.”

The Kyrkbacken Militia possessed two BattleMechs, a Mad Cat III and a Legionnaire, and Jonah had trained in both. He leaned toward the Mad Cat, preferring its greater strength and mass, but lowly militia captains piloted the ’Mech they were assigned to and learned to like it.

Raffi grimaced. “You’re not going to like this. The ’Mechs are staying here.”

“What?”

“You said it yourself. Support of the border. If they’re going to take away manpower, they want to at least leave firepower. We’re supposed to get new equipment out there.”

Jonah’s hopes raised. “New equipment? Like, fresh-off-the-assembly-line new?”

“No,” said Raffi. “Like, stuff-that’s-been-sitting-around-because-no-one-else-wants-it new.”

“Old equipment, you mean. Ancient.”

Raffi flashed a smile brimming with false cheer. “It’s new to us!”

“Did they say what we’re getting?”

Raffi glanced at the new orders. “Says here they’re purchasing a couple of clapped-out, secondhand Stingers from a disbanded mercenary unit.”

“They’re giving us used Stingers? To defend the Capellan border?”

Raffi nodded. “Yup.”

In the past ten days The Republic, or at least these parts of it, had been enveloped in turmoil. Politicians on Holt were talking secession. Senators were openly questioning the military’s ability to protect the brave soldiers assigned to it. Anti-Capellan factions were urging for an immediate, overwhelming display of force—a display that, Jonah knew, could wipe out large portions of The Republic’s military and fatally weaken the border with the Confederation.

“I wish I knew what they’re going to ask us to do,” Jonah said. “But whatever it is, I don’t think I’ll like it.”

Kurragin, Capellan Confederation

June–July 3110

The secondhand Stinger BattleMechs were even worse than Jonah had initially feared, and so was the assignment. Both ’Mechs had been stripped of their jump jets—their former merc owners must have been cannibalizing them for parts before putting them up for sale. The fact that the ’Mechs also lacked proper repair-and-replacement schematics and had only a minimal number of critical spare parts was another bad sign.