“Listen here, boy. On my ship, my name is Captain, and you’d be wise to remember that. I been through this already today with the Duck, and he and me got an understanding. I don’t bow to him, and I sure ain’t bowing to the likes of you. Now, you want to know where he is, you ask nice-like.”

Erik was flabbergasted, but there appeared to be little point in arguing with the old lout. The Duke had hired him; he was sure that he could discipline him as easily.

“Very well—Captain Gus.”

“Captain Clancy,” growled the man.

“Captain Clancy then. Please–where can I find my uncle?”

Clancy jerked his thumb back the way he’d come. “Go till you see the green walls. That’s officers’ country. Room’s about halfway down, outboard. D-16. Most people couldn’t miss it.” He turned and braced to kick off down the hall. “You, I’m not so sure about.”

Then he was gone.

Erik felt his face redden. He’d have a talk with Aaron about this one. It would almost be fun to see what was in store for Captain Clancy.

He had little trouble finding the quarters. In fact, he suspected he had passed them once before in his wanderings. He’d somehow expected something more in keeping with his uncle’s position. Judging by the distances between adjacent doors, this was no bigger than a third-class stateroom on a liner. Perhaps the former military vessel simply didn’t offer anything better. He stopped at the door and rang the bell. He heard a solenoid in the lock clunk, and the door slid to one side.

He found his uncle crouched in front of a simple desk, his feet secured to the deck by loops of webbing. He was wearing utilitarian blue pajamas, and, as with his ’Mech, he was showing a lot of battle damage. He glanced up from his paperwork. “Erik. About time you got here.”

Erik’s heart sank. He’d been hoping that some variation of the warm family reunion of his fantasies would take place, and wash away the dark thoughts that plagued him. Obviously that wasn’t to be the case. “My apologies, Uncle. I was lost briefly. It’s a big ship.”

He didn’t look up from his papers. “It is, isn’t it? Perfect for my needs. All this space. A blank canvas for my designs.”

What designs? Why his sudden interest in this whale of a cargo ship?

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Uncle. I’d assumed you’d be joining us. New Aragon is ours, but House Liao’s forces are moving on Halloran V and they’ve asked our help.”

“And they’ll have it, but without me. As I’ve told you, the coalition is our only long-term hope here. We have to build a force capable of stopping Liao and mounting a counteroffensive. That may discourage them enough to withdraw from our space, or at least impress The Republic enough to support our efforts.

“So I’ll be taking the Tyrannos Rex to Azha to take on supplies and materials, then on to Ningpo.”

Erik was surprised. “Ningpo has been none too friendly to our diplomatic overtures in the past. If time is of the essence, shouldn’t you start with a more receptive world?”

“That is exactly why I should start with Ningpo, Erik. If I can get them to pledge to our cause, the other planetary governors in the region will take notice. By winning one world, I may be able to win half a dozen, maybe more.”

“And how do you plan to do that?”

Aaron pulled out a data pad and scrolled through what appeared to be a financial report. “It’s enough for you to know that I have a plan, Erik. I haven’t got time to explain it to you. You only really need to know your part in it. In any case, it will be revealed in due time.”

“I see. Then I assume I’ll be continuing with our forces to Halloran V in your stead?”

“You assume wrong. I have another mission for you. A very important diplomatic mission.”

Again, he was blindsided. “Uncle, our forces need leadership.”

“They’ll have it. I’m naming Justin Sortek as campaign commander. He’s proven himself again and again with the Davion Guard. If anyone can lead them to victory, it’s him.”

Stunned, Erik found himself sputtering. “My Lord, am I being punished?”

The Duke looked at him blankly. “Punished?” He sighed. “Erik, you are a Sandoval. To be a competent MechWarrior is one thing. To mistake your time in the cockpit for anything that will lead to your proper station in life is quite another. You’re far too much in love with the glory of battle.”

“I have always served you in battle, Uncle. I carry the banner of the SwordSworn proudly. I’m not afraid to fight along with our troops in the cause of House Davion.”

Aaron stuck the data pad to an adhesive strip on the desk. “I know you aren’t afraid of battle, Erik. I know you’d lay down your life if it came to that. Which is why I am sending you on a mission more important to me than any battle. While I negotiate with Ningpo, you will be bringing Shensi into our fold.”

“Shensi? They aren’t even in the path of Liao’s current thrust. Our best intelligence shows them being bypassed.”

“Then your job is to convince them otherwise. They’ve retained a substantial army. If they aren’t being attacked, it’s fresh and uncommitted—just the sort of reinforcements we need right now. I am confident you can do that—It may even be easier than you think.”

Erik was skeptical, and deeply disappointed that he would be left out of the coming battle. Added to all his other negative emotions was another feeling of guilt—that he was deserting their forces when they needed him most. Once again, Aaron was shuffling him to the side.

“With respect, Lord Governor, it seems that if you had confidence in me, I’d be commanding our forces in this campaign.”

The Duke scowled at him. “Be careful what you say, Erik. I haven’t forgotten how you’ve disappointed me in the past. Recently I’ve given you opportunities to redeem yourself—the latest on New Aragon. Your performance there was acceptable, if not exemplary.

“But you are a Sandoval. Acceptable is not enough. If this mission is a sacrifice for you, then sacrifices must be made. You say you aren’t afraid to face danger and battle, yet you never know when those things will find you.” He reached up and touched the bandage on his chest. “Lord knows, I know that better than anyone.

“This is an opportunity to prove yourself to me, Erik, the greatest one yet, though you don’t realize it. If you aren’t up to it, then I won’t force you. But if not, then I have no further use for you. In any capacity.”

Erik blinked in surprise. His uncle sounded serious. Yet he couldn’t just cave in. “Of course I’ll do as ordered, but my objections stand.” He paused a moment. “I appreciate the trust you’re putting in me.”

Aaron didn’t seem to notice. He’d picked up another data pad, and was studying a column of numbers. “Good. Send your shuttle back to the fleet with word you’ll be joining me. At Azha we’ll arrange transport for you to Shensi.”

Erik was puzzled by this pronouncement. The trip from Azha to Shensi would simply take him back through Pleione. “Azha’s in the wrong direction.”

Aaron gave him an annoyed glance. “There are things I need to take care of before we part company, and I don’t want your trip attracting too much attention. Using a less direct route serves my needs. At any rate, by then, proper diplomatic credentials should be arranged. I’m having Captain Ricco send over a small contingent of officers and enlisteds to act as my temporary staff. Pick someone to act as your aide, and have them sent over as well—and of course you should have your personal items sent.” He glanced at the time display on his data pad. “You’ve got about three hours.”

Erik floated, silently, trying to take it all in, trying to think of some way around his exile.

Aaron gave him a look of annoyance. “That’s all, Erik.”

Erik licked his lips. At least there was one grain of satisfaction to be found in all this. “Uncle, before I go. I had a most disturbing encounter in the corridor with your Captain Clancy. His behavior was quite horrifying.”