"Are there any wounded?"

"Not a one," Edelstein reported.

"Your troopers are the only survivors of the ambush?"

"Correct, sir."

As he had suspected. "Finish securing the ship."

"Yes, sir. We'll have it all cleaned up before you take command, sir." Edelstein saluted and led his men away.

Elson didn't think it would take very long.

Searching the chamber, Elson deliberately looked for any sign that MacKenzie Wolf and his men had not been killed by the looters. Everything he saw fit perfectly with Edelstein's account of the event. The only thing out of place was the excessive force used on the last looters, but that could be ascribed to the rage of men who had just seen their commanding officer gunned down.

Considering his conversation with Edelstein before the boarding, Elson noted that he would have to be very careful around the man. Edelstein was most efficient. He would be a useful, if dangerous, tool, but with such dedicated men, Elson knew he could accomplish much.

21

The stars watched from their places high in Luthien's night sky. They, and the ghosts drifting along the streets, were the only ones to note the passage of the dark-clad man. He moved with a fluidity that would have surprised those who knew him as Taizo Homitsu. That MechWarrior never ran. He even walked with a slight limp.

Homitsu entered the storage facility and emerged moments later. The black duffel bag slung over his shoulder looked no fuller than before, but the ghosts knew it carried his long-hidden tool.

Hurrying down the street, Homitsu fretted. This was not the time he would have chosen, but his hand had been forced. Jaime Wolf was coming to Luthien. There was still work to do, things to be prepared.

Two blocks outside the compound he stopped. His breathing had become unsteady, which annoyed him. This was no time for mortal failings. Taking cover in an alley, he leaned against the wall to catch his breath. The calm was slow in coming, but come it did. At this point, haste could undo him, and he was determined to fulfill his vow, whatever the cost.

Composed, he leaned away from the wall. Ready again, he moved on. He was silent, one with the night. His passage went unremarked. The stars above watched, but they told no one. The ghosts were quiet.

Who could stop the man who did not fear death?

* * *

Dechan Fraser was familiar with ghosts, for so many haunted his dreams, but their visits were no less disturbing for that. The ghosts of Misery were the worst, and they were the ones who came to him tonight.

He slipped from the bed, surprised that Jenette hadn't been wakened by his thrashing. Or had his thrashing also been part of the dream? He crossed the hardwood of the bedroom floor, the polished boards cool and firm under his feet. Sliding open the screen, he looked out across the garden.

Luthien's stars twinkled in the predawn sky, a last hurrah before morning. Many of those stars had their own planets. For the worlds of those systems, each star was a sun whose burning light made day, while, here, each of those stars was no more than a single twinkling among the many lamps of the night.

Once Dechan himself had been called a rising star among Wolf's Dragoons, but now, other than the ghosts, how many Dragoons remembered him?

In the distance he could see the dark patch among the city lights that was the imperial palace. Takashi Kurita slept there tonight, satisfied. Ambassador Inochi had returned with word mat Jaime Wolf had accepted the duel, and the late-night newscast had made much of the story. But Dechan Fraser had received no advance warning from Theodore or any of the Kuritans he knew. No warning had come from Dragoon agents, either. Once again, Jaime Wolf was coming to Luthien and Dechan was in the dark. He wondered if Michi knew about the duel. If he did, would he be pleased or annoyed?

Dechan didn't know his own mind; how could he predict the reaction of his old friend?

If, indeed, Michi had been his friend and not just another manipulator. It seemed that everyone used Dechan when it was convenient and forgot him when other matters demanded their attention. Everyone except Jenette. She had been as loyal to him as he to her. Yet she slept on, undisturbed by his doubt and anger. It was a burden he didn't wish to lay upon her.

He was still staring out the window when she awoke and crept up behind him to give him a sleepy hug.

"Up early," she said, kissing the back of his neck.

"I thought I'd see the sunrise."

She slid around him and draped his arm around her waist. "It's a beautiful one," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. "You should have awakened me."

"I didn't want to disturb you. You looked so peaceful." He kissed her hair. "There'll be other mornings."

"But never another today." She nestled closer. "We could start it off right."

He felt her hand caress his belly and move downward. His body responded before his mind, but when he kissed her, he let himself fall into her love. For a while at least, the rest of the world went away.

22

The Talbot'sconference room was crowded with every off-duty officer who could squeeze in. There were a fair number of ratings as well, all anxious to hear the Council of Officers. Their presence would prompt caution and even keep some arguments from entering the discussion, but, by Dragoon custom, this could not be a closed session. Elson could see that the presence of observers bothered some of the older Dragoon officers, especially Colonel Atwyl. Their nervousness reassured Elson that encouraging the lower-ranking Dragoons to attend had been a good strategy.

Elson also saw many of his Elementals scattered about the periphery of the chamber, their presence easy to spot because they stood head and shoulders above the crowd. He had not ordered them to come, but they had, spacing themselves judiciously around the conference room. He did not think it a coincidence that one stood near each of the other council officers. The precaution was probably unnecessary, but he was pleased that his men showed such initiative.

Content to listen through the preliminary debates, he sat back. The air was warm, and the laboring climate-control unit chugged faintly as it tried to compensate for heat generated by bodies in a quantity far exceeding the room's rating. He let the heat soak through him, loosening flesh and easing the passage of blood. He was calm, content to smile at Hamilton Atwyl as the rest of the council argued.

The first step involved adding a seventh officer to the council. Gilson's nomination of Edelstein was well-timed. The 'Mech jock presented her arguments well, just as Elson had rehearsed her. His seconding of the nomination brought rousing approval from the crowd. Atwyl pushed another two names onto the list before Brandon spoke from the crowd and demanded the roll call. When the balloting was over, Edelstein was confirmed by a final vote of four to two.

Returned to full strength, the council moved to its other business, the election of a new first among the officers. When Elson's name was the first put forth, Atwyl seemed ready to do battle. Then, after Captain Brandon confirmed Gilson's spirited account of the first minutes of the encounter with the looters, someone in the crowd began to chant Elson's name. Gradually more and more of the spectators took up the shout.

Amid the din Atwyl called for order and slowly got it, but his spirit seemed to have diminished in the heat of the general response. He spoke about the deep-space nature of the mission and the importance of having a commander who was trained in and understood the intricacies of such missions. But his argument was flawed and easily seen to be so; the mission's first commander, MacKenzie Wolf, had been a MechWarrior, not even an aerojock, let alone a deep-space commander. The increasingly restive crowd was quieted when Jessica Sedano, captain of the DropShip Havelock,stood and nominated Atwyl. Gilson, at a nod from Elson, seconded and immediately called for a decision. Only Sedano and Shankar, the aerospace flight leader, stood by Atwyl. Elson was named first officer of the council.