Fire from somewhere in the main hold caught Clair as she advanced to join her commander. Slugs splattered impotently against her battle armor or whined away in frustrated ricochet. When she loosed a short burst of her own, the firing stopped. Joining Elson at the entrance to the hold, she waited with him until the third Elemental was in the airlock before advancing.

The boarding action was anticlimactic, the looters offering minimal resistance. Within twenty minutes Elson was in command of the bridge and using the DropShip's comm to inform the Hammerof his success.

Relaxing, he popped his carapace. The air was every bit as foul as his sensors reported, but it was nothing he hadn't smelled before. Unpleasant but not dangerous. Leaning against the captain's couch, he listened to the chatter between the Dragoon units. MacKenzie's ship had grappled the Alexanderand he had sent a party aboard, where they were meeting resistance. The Hammerwas completing the maneuvering necessary to send her last boarding parties into the fight aboard the Alexander.Fortunately the looters had not activated the Alexander'sweapons.

With Elementals soon to be involved aboard the cache ship, Elson saw little to do but wait. Edelstein's troops would deal efficiently with unarmored looters. If the scavengers had infested any other ships, their turn would come. There were too many ships for the Elemental troopers to deal with at once; they would mount their sweep operation only once they encountered immediate resistance.

Clair joined Elson on the bridge to report that resistance from the DropShip crew had ceased. A check of the ship's computer showed all crew accounted for. This battered hulk was his. Elson's part of the job was done for the moment.

With the help of his Point second, he linked his suit comm to that of the captured DropShip, which let him listen in on the tac channels aboard the Alexander.MacKenzie Wolf was leading his team against the looters. Not surprisingly, they were calling for Elemental support. The 'Mech jocks and techs were neither trained nor equipped for close-in combat; the free-fall conditions would only further reduce their effectiveness. They would need help, zero-gee-trained help. Edelstein had assigned a full Star to the boarding action. Visual feed from the Hammershowed all shuttles returning from depositing their loads.

On the link through the Hammer,Edelstein reported unexpectedly heavy resistance from the looters.

19

When Colonel Wolf announced his decision, the arguments stopped, at least where he could hear them. New arguments erupted, but they too were reserved for times and places where the Colonel could not overhear. Many people seemed to think the Wolf had made the wrong decision, but I was coming to understand that the decision would have met opposition, no matter how he'd decided. I thought about telling the Colonel all I was hearing, but in the bustle of imminent departure, the grousing came to seem relatively unimportant.

Lydia stopped by Wolf Hall. She'd been away on a contract and I hadn't seen her for several weeks. The last time, we'd spent the night in each other's arms, consoling each another for the loss of Carson. A mercenary's life is not without hazard and, as good as the Dragoons are, we do take losses; Carson was the first of our sibkin to die in battle. That night had made me see Lydia—who had formerly seemed so standoffish— in a different light. I should have been happy to see her again, but her first words set my emotions on a different path.

"Is it true about the Wolf?"

I frowned. My sibs had often tried to squeeze me for information or used me as a rumor-buster, but never before had one come to me while I was on duty. That kind of harassment usually came from others.

"I'm on duty."

She wouldn't let me concentrate on my work. Tugging my head around, Lydia stared into my eyes. "Brian, this is important."

"So is my duty," I said, removing her hand.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "If you'd only answer me, you'd be back to your duty by now."

She was right, of course. Thinking that she would leave Once I'd confirmed the rumor, I said, "It's true."

Taking in my words, her expression became dreamy. She sighed. "An honor duel. Just like in The Remembrance,"

Not exactly. The tales of honor that made up so much of the half-history, half-epic poem that was The Remembrancewere simple, clear-cut stories. Real life wasn't like that, especially life in the business end of the Dragoons. But then, I couldn't expect Lydia to know the complexities of the situation; she was posted to a combat unit. "No cares beyond a good soldier's cares," she'd said on that night we'd cried over Carson. She'd said that was enough for her.

"He'll win, of course," she said confidently.

"Takashi Kurita is accounted one of the greatest MechWarriors of the Inner Sphere."

"He's an old man now," she said with a shrug.

"So's Jaime Wolf," I pointed out.

She laughed, dismissing the issue. "But he's the Wolf. You'll be going with him, won't you? What an honor. I wish I could be there to see the Wolf kill the old Snake."

I found myself wishing I could share her confidence. She was living in a child's world, surrounded by dreams of glory and honor, in which the great hero always slays the villain and right always triumphs. I had dreamed those same dreams. Much as I wished them to be true, I had grown to doubt them. Seeing them in her eyes made me uncomfortable.

"You'll be leaving soon, won't you?"

I nodded.

"I'm off duty for the next thirty-six," she said with a smile. "Maybe tonight we could ..."

She left the invitation hanging, unwilling as ever to actually voice it. I forced a regretful smile and said, "I've got a lot to do."

Patting my arm, she said, "Ever faithful Brian. You do your duty." She started to leave, but turned suddenly. "James is in town, too," she said. "You find the time, look us up. Sibs always got to be there for sibs, quiaff?"

I nodded agreement, but wondered if that were so. Certainly I missed my sibs; we had seen so little of each other since my posting to the Colonel's staff. Things just weren't the same. Each time we gathered, my former sibmates seemed different, less—I don't know what. Maybe less informed. Had being Jaime Wolf's comm officer changed me, or had it only opened my eyes? As much as I missed my sibs and others of my ageframe, I had come to know that their narrow, comradely view of the world was not the only one. James would have said I'd been corrupted, blaming the spheroids.

I thrust those thoughts away and tried to concentrate on the report I was writing. But the words wouldn't come.

Soon I would be leaving Outreach again, but this time was different. It wasn't just because I had never been to the Draconis Combine. This was not a combat ticket or an inspection tour or a commercial-relations junket. We were responding to a challenge from a blood enemy. And if Colonel Carmody was right, we were walking into a trap.

The Wolf didn't seem to believe it was a trap, though. Or if he did, he didn't care. He had refused to allow a major force aboard the Chieftain.There would be only a single lance of BattleMechs: his Archer,my Loki,Hans Vordel's refitted Victor,and Franchette's new Gallowglas.We had a skeleton staff, mostly Kurita specialists that Stanford Blake had insisted upon, but we were not equipped for battle. Luthien, the Kuritan capital world, was garrisoned by at least five BattleMech regiments. If it came to a fight, we would be overwhelmed.