I was too busy to worry until some time after liftoff. Then, being mostly idle because we were running silent, I found the time. While I was glad that the Wolf had finally decided to fight back, I didn't see a lot of hope. Listening to the broadcasts, I heard the first lies. It seems a gas main had exploded near the Wolf family compound, causing casualties among the security forces. The public was being assured that no civilians—which currently included Jaime Wolf—had been injured. There was no mention of guns or rockets or escapes. I felt sure that the real news was being carried on tight beams or in coded transmissions that were, at present, unavailable to me.

The Chieftainwas fleeing the sunrise, burning through a low orbit away from the day that was dawning in Harlech. I was encouraged that our flight was unopposed. No aerospace fighters or other DropShips were rising from the port or dropping from high orbit to oppose us. The Chieftainwas powerfully armed, but a swarm of fighters or a group of DropShips could take her. We were too easy a target, hanging out here with only a pair of fighters for escort.

I longed to be on the ground where one could find cover from hostiles. A 'Mech carries a lot less armor and armament than a DropShip, but at least the jock is in control. Aboard a ship, someone else holds your fate hostage to his skills and luck.

I didn't know much about Colonel Wolf's plans at that point. I had been told where we were bound, the training ops center on the other side of the mountain. If all was well, we would soon be receiving landing clearance from the Home Guard forces stationed there. We had reasonable confidence that we would find a friendly welcome. After all, the usurpers had sent the Home Guard forces to the other side of the mountain to keep them out of the action in the World. Even if we weren't welcomed with open arms, we'd land. Some of the Guard had to be loyal. If we had to, we'd fight our way to a linkup with them.

Below and behind us, things were undoubtedly happening, but what? Once we'd established a base in the Outback, we'd have a chance to find out.

* * *

The dawn brought unwelcome news to the command center in Wolf Hall, but Elson took it calmly. Everything in his campaign had gone surprisingly well so far. Sooner or later there had to be a slip-up; but he wished it had related to a less important aspect.

Seventh Kommando was supposed to be the elite infantry of Wolf's Dragoons. They were very good, especially for non-Elemental 'pounders. But even the best commandos are at a disadvantage when they walk into a firefight after they'd been planning a quiet approach.

Somehow word had leaked and warning been given to Wolf's loyalists. They had arranged something more quickly than Elson had thought them capable, given Jaime Wolf's recent lethargy. The Wolf had escaped the trap.

The leak would have to be found and plugged, but there was no reason to punish the commandos, no need for harsh words or discipline. As much as Elson was disappointed by their failure, they were not at fault. At least they had eliminated one of Wolf's loyalists. Carmody's death would make it easier to isolate the forces of the Home Guard remaining in Harlech. In time, the forward-thinkers would be singled out from among them and reinstated in the Dragoon fighting elements. But there were more important things to accomplish first. He gave the orders to move on the Home Guard barracks. Fancher's picked team should handle that easily enough; the overwhelming force of the BattleMechs should cow the commanderless pensioners and trainees without need for battle.

"Unauthorized movement in Champaigne quadrant," the commtech reported.

Elson nodded to show he had heard. Despite the news blackout, word of Wolf's flight was spreading. The fight Elson had thought to see finished with the end of the night had likely just begun in earnest.

* * *

The city was still relatively quiet.

The spaceport was too far away; Dechan couldn't see if the fighting was still going on there. The early morning newscast babbling softly behind him had nothing to say about it.

The first of the morning commuters would be making their way into the city from the outlying suburbs. Some would be passing by the shattered gates of the Wolf compound. What would they think? Would they suspect what had happened in the predawn?

Spread below him, the city seemed still asleep, holding close to a dream of peace. It was an illusion, he knew, but he cherished it all the same. He wondered how much blood would spill in the day because he couldn't stomach seeing a little shed in the night.

To the north of the housing tower from which he watched, a familiar, ponderous motion caught Dechan's attention.

BattleMechs.

A lance of four was moving along Verban Avenue toward the city center: two heavies and two mediums moving at moderate speed. They spread out into a line when they reached the park. It was not an attack, else they would have charged right through rather than carefully avoiding small trees and the light recreation structures. Spaced evenly apart, they emerged on the side near Wolf Hall and halted facing the complex. He was too far away to see if any soldiers emerged to confront them. If the 'Mech pilots were siding with Elson, they would have turned their machines outward.

Dechan watched the motionless 'Mechs for some minutes. He debated waking Jenette, but was reluctant to tell her of the night's happenings. She would want to go to Wolf's aid, and he would have to try to talk her out of it. He wanted to put off that scene as long as possible.

A series of flashes lit up the front of Wolf Hall. They looked like gunshots, but the 'Mechs didn't react. More flashes. This time Dechan was sure it was gunfire. The lack of movement by the BattleMechs could only mean that their pilots had dismounted. He suspected that none of them would ever again sit in a jock's hot seat.

He turned away from the window and went to wake Jenette.

* * *

The commline buzzed for his attention. Michi reached out and tapped a button. The unit displayed the call code of the source, indicating that this was the summons he was expecting.

It had begun.

"Will you not answer it?" Kiyomasa looked older than his years, the dark circles of exhaustion under his eyes and slumped stance robbing him of his youthful appearance. Even so, the young MechWarrior had gotten far more sleep than Michi.

"Iie,"Michi replied. "The words I would hear are unimportant, I already know the content of the message. I must leave now."

"You are determined, then?"

Michi let his actions be his answer. He stood. Taking up the duffle from beside his chair, he slung it over his shoulder. Kiyomasa stood also and stepped in his way.

"You must reconsider, Michi -sama."

"I owe my loyalty to a new lord. Would you have me break faith?"

Kiyomasa frowned, clearly distressed by the dilemma. "Wolf is the real lord. He will need warriors."

Ready for that argument, Michi said, "If he rallies an army, he is in rebellion against the laws of the Dragoons."

"He is the rightful lord," Kiyomasa protested. "He lost the Trial."

"He was tricked into it. It is meaningless."

"Are our customs meaningless?"

"Of course not."

"Then why do you think so little of theirs?"

Kiyomasa's glowered, frustrated. Finally he said, "You must come with us. You are why we came here."

"If that was the only reason, you are all fools and worse than fools." Stepping around the son of his master, he added, "You must do as I must. Follow the demands of your honor."