"I do not approve," Theodore said sternly.

"I am the Coordinator. In this, I do not need your approval."

"I may not share your vision of the code, but do not forget that you had me soundly schooled in bushido.You cannot lie down in front of your enemies. Tetsuhara- senseiwould not approve."

"Perhaps you are right, but that old man is a stricter advocate of the code than I. Much as I am stricter than you. I believe he would tell you that a man's honor is in his heart, not in the eyes of other people. He understood the death of his son Minobu.

"Perhaps this course I choose shows me as weak, perhaps as strong. You may decide for yourself. I have made the decision to pass the fight to my heir. I will take the feud with the Dragoons with me, for the sake of the Combine. Though this means I die with my honor insulted, this lesser failing of honor serves a greater one. The realm must survive; it is our sacred duty as members of Clan Kurita to see that it does."

Theodore tried to argue, but Takashi ordered his silence. Resigned, Theodore left to obey his father's demand for writing materials. While he was gone, a physician arrived. Dismissing the man's attentions, Takashi directed him to attend to Michi, saying, "See that his body is treated with honor, for he was an honorable samurai."

Theodore returned, now dressed in kimono and hakamaand wearing the paired swords of his samurai rank. His father was kneeling where he had left him. The Kanrei placed the tray he carried by his father's side. Lifting off a pile of white garments, he revealed a lacquered black box with an exquisite design of gold cherry blossoms.

"A good choice," Takashi said.

"Traditional," Theodore said.

"You honor an old man."

"I honor my father."

Takashi lifted the cover from the lacquered box and laid it to one side. Removing the tray of writing materials, he took a single sheet of rice paper and laid it before him. After preparing the ink, he selected a brush. He remained poised, brush in hand, for several minutes. Then he dipped the brush into the ink and held it for a moment before stroking bold characters onto the pristine paper. He spoke as he wrote,

"Sunset, the dragon weeps;

 Night to day as winter, spring;

Sunrise, the dragon roars."

Takashi put down the brush. It rolled from the lacquer tray onto the floor, splattering tiny drops of ink onto the rice paper.

"An untidy end," he said softly as he rose. Taking the short sword Theodore offered him, Takashi retired to the garden. Silent, Theodore followed.

28

Hans and I were in the shuttle two hours before its scheduled departure, so I was on hand when the Wolf boarded an hour later. He smiled ruefully when he saw us.

"Good morning, gentlemen. You're up early."

"We know our duty, Colonel," I said.

"Hmm. I've got a few things I need done. Hans—"

"I'll call a steward, Colonel."

"I see. Never mind. Is the crew ready?"

"Yes, Colonel."

"Then let's be about it."

The flight down was uneventful. We set down on the grounds of Unity Palace, well away from the main building and halls. I was concerned at once when I saw several BattleMechs prowling the edges of the tarmac. The Kuritans who greeted us assured us that the 'Mechs were standard security, but I knew otherwise from studying Stan's briefing.

The courtesy with which we were met was strictly formal. In Kuritan terms that meant a lot of flowery distractions and well-mannered delays. Colonel Wolf grew annoyed, though he hid it well. The hours crawled by but eventually the designated hour for the meeting with Takashi drew near. Meanwhile, our escorts seemed unaware of the passage of time.

Finally the Colonel's patience collapsed. Addressing the old general who headed the escort delegation, he asked, "When will we be leaving for the meeting with Takashi -sama? "

The general stiffened, then bowed.

"My apologies, Colonel Wolf. I am most remiss. The schedule has been changed. Due to pressing business, the Coordinator is unable to meet with you at the agreed-upon time. Your understanding in this matter would be most appreciated."

"I thought Takashi wanted to get this over with."

The general looked very uncomfortable. "I obey the Coordinator's orders, Colonel Wolf. I am only authorized to say that you may meet with the Coordinator this evening."

"What about the duel?"

"That you must discuss with the Coordinator."

The Wolf folded his arms. "I was told that there was a BattleMech prepared for me. Do I at least get to see it?"

"A moment please, Colonel." The general held a hurried conversation with an aide wearing the black dress uniform of the Internal Security Force. Their whispers finished, he bowed to the Wolf and said with a smile. "If you wish. If not, other amusements may be arranged for you and your men."

"I'll see the 'Mech," the Colonel said bluntly.

"We are at your service, Colonel Wolf," the general said with another bow.

I doubted it, but they did lead us to a blue and gold Archerthat mimicked the color scheme of Jaime Wolf's machine. We spent the afternoon checking it out and found it to be in almost perfect condition, though its ammo bays were empty. The Colonel seemed satisfied with the 'Mech, but I still worried about what the Kuritans had in mind.

* * *

Gobi Station maintains a geosynchronous orbit over a small island 160 kilometers off the east coast of Outreach's smaller continent. The orbital mechanics made for a short flight up from Harlech and a longer inbound trip. Useful for political reasons, useful now for Elson's reasons. He made sure he was in the bay when Alpin Wolf's shuttle arrived.

"I got your message," Alpin said as he walked up to Elson.

Direct. "I am glad you could come. I thought it best to give you the news first."

"News? The whole planet knows your news. You've—excuse me, you havecome back with the cache ships."

"That is not what I am talking about." Elson turned, slightly, letting the light shine on the rank insignia affixed to his collar, a colonel's star. The bright burnish of the longest point marked it as the insignia of the First among officers. Elson would not wear it much longer, but it would serve him now.

Alpin's eyes were drawn by the flash. Whatever he had been about to say died in his throat as he reached the obvious conclusion. His mouth hung open like that of a gaffed fish. Finally he stammered, "My father's dead?"

"I am sorry for your loss," Elson said solemnly. "He died in an ambush. There were looters aboard some of the ships. There were other losses as well."

Alpin shook his head slowly, brow furrowed. Several times he started to speak, then stopped before any words came out. Elson waited.

"Were you there?" Alpin asked tenatively.

"I was leading the capture of the looters' DropShip. When I realized there were ambushers on the ship he had boarded, we crossed to the Alexanderas quickly as we could, but we were too late. His passing left a void."

In a bitter but unfocused voice, Alpin said, "So you stepped in."

Elson bowed his head. "The officers saw fit to name me first among officers. I could replace him on the mission, but I cannot do that here. You still live, and Dragoon custom seems to decree that you are now Jaime Wolf's heir, since his only surviving son is far too young to command."