"Good day to you, Dechan Fraser."

The smile on the man's face looked sincere, but something about Elson's attitude seemed forced, making Dechan uncomfortable. Reluctantly, he said, "Hello."

"I have heard that the Federated Commonwealth has made a substantial offer for your services."

"I turned them down; they just want to pump me for intelligence on the DCMs. In the old Dragoons, we didn't betray a former employer to a new one."

Elson didn't react at all to Dechan's implication that the Dragoons were not what they had once been. Continuing to smile, he said, "Then you are still in need of work."

"I'm not one of them," Dechan said, canting his head in the direction of the mercs standing nearby.

"I know you are not," Elson said earnestly. "That is why I left them to speak to you."

"Looks to me like you've got more than enough mercs in your bag today."

"When did a mercenary care how many others there were, as long as the paymaster had enough C-bills?"

"When he was smart enough to worry about what he was getting into," Dechan replied.

"You are an astute man, Dechan Fraser. I believe you can see what is happening. The more forces arrayed on our side, the less chance of armed conflict with the Wolf loyalists. You know Jaime Wolf for a practical man. Do you not think he will realize he has no hope of winning?"

Dechan shrugged. The Jaime Wolf who had forgotten him was not the one with whom he had hired on. Or maybe he was, and a snot-nosed kid just hadn't known any better. Who could say what such a man would think of long odds? "And if he fights anyway?"

"He will lose, and the cost to the victors will be less than it might have been if the odds were more even."

"A cost borne mostly by the mercs," And maybe by Jenette.

"As I said, you are perceptive, Dechan Fraser. I doexpect Wolf to fight because he is foremost a warrior, and no true warrior surrenders without a real fight."

"Like he did in the Trial?"

"His champion fought." A shadow passed across Elson's face. "Perhaps Wolf wished to lose the Trial. Perhaps, at the time, he saw a strategic advantage in appearing to lose, expecting to use the power shift to some hidden advantage. But his next loss will be very real, whatever his devious plans. When this is over there will be real openings in the Dragoons, and more than just a few. Men who have proven themselves could become well-positioned."

The bait was obvious, but Dechan found it tempting all the same. He had trained and led the Ryuken, but they hadn't been his.Logic pointed out the problem. "Dragoons won't follow me."

"Your troops wouldn't have to be Dragoons, to begin with. Raise your own unit of warriors. You are a good judge of men, select good ones. I feel confident that any you choose would be worthy of the new Dragoons."

From his experience with the Ryuken in the Combine, Dechan thought Elson was right. He was confident that he could create a good unit and that the MechWarriors he chose would be worthy of the Dragoons. Or at least the Dragoons as Dechan remembered them to be. But there was a major problem that made Elson's offer easy to ignore. "I don't have the cash to start a unit."

Elson waved away that argument. "The money is available."

Still wary, Dechan tried to provoke him. "Money you won't have to pay when such worthy men prove their worth by dying for you."

Elson's smile vanished. "I do not waste valuable resources. It is not the way of the Clans."

Dechan was favorably impressed by the vehemence of Elson's last remark. He might not actually waste good troops. Did that apply to the other side? Would Elson spare Dragoons, like Jenette, who sided with Wolf? Did they deserve to be spared? She'd left him, after all. Confused by his feelings and worried by the trend of his thoughts, Dechan found himself nodding to Elson and mumbling, "I don't suppose it is. Will you let me think about it?"

"A while only, as you can surely appreciate." The smile returned. "Leave word at Wolf Hall. Until then, Dechan Fraser."

"Yeah." Dechan watched as the Elemental strode away. The mercs reformed around him and the group headed across the square toward the entertainment district, no doubt for the traditional contract closing. As he stood bemused on the stairs, a tall man with a salt-and-pepper beard approached him. Dechan recognized the face and the uniform as he turned to face the man, but needed to check the name flash to put a name to him: Major Norm Carter of Carter's Chevaliers. "Elson trying to recruit you?" Carter asked bluntly. "Yeah."

He looked disappointed. "I expect I won't be able to match his offer. With Wolf out of the picture, I guess you'll take the uniform back."

"Would you?"

"I've never been a Dragoon so the question doesn't exactly apply. But my people have been taking Dragoon subcontracts for decades, ever since my dad hooked up with Wolf. It's always been a square deal. Not always easy, but fair." He frowned in thought for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I might, if they offered. But I'd have to make sure my people were taken care of first."

"Lots of opportunities on the Clan frontier."

"I would've agreed with you yesterday but the market's gone cold. This new Dragoon regime's dropped the A list of recommended mercs—where, I might add, the Chevaliers had a good place—and the House recruiters are putting a lot more emphasis on individual contracts. Then there's all this open recruiting the Dragoons are doing, almost in direct competition to the Houses. It's shifting the way the market works, and I haven't decided if that's good or bad. I suppose it depends on how this mess comes out."

"What mess?"

Carter gave him a look of mock annoyance. "Don't be coy, Dechan. Everybody knows Wolf's holding out on the other side." He shook his head sadly. "Never thought I'd see a Dragoon civil war. You guys were always so close-knit."

Dechan had never thought he'd see one, either, but his view of the Dragoons, as well as of individual members, had gone, and was going, through some changes. "Things changed."

"Don't they always."

"Wolf won't start anything."

"He won't have to. How long do you think it'll be before Alpin and Elson send their bought boys out to play? Time may not favor Wolf, but it doesn't favor the new regime, either. If they don't prove they're in complete control, they won't have any control at all."

Dechan looked at him and wondered. "Would you do something to affect the outcome in your favor if you could?"

"I might."

"Then I think we should talk."

"I think we should talk."

It took all the nerve I could muster to say that to Maeve when I waylaid her outside the barracks. She looked up at me, her expression guarded. I thought I saw a shadow in her normally clear gray eyes.

"About what?"

"About what?" I echoed. "Us!"

My shout turned heads among the people passing by or simply idling time in the area. Maeve flashed an uncomfortable glance around, grabbed me by the arm, and dragged me around the side of the building. She shoved me against the wall and I was too numbly embarrassed to object.

"Look, we got to know each other pretty well, but it was fast, intense. It was—" She broke off her breathy rush and turned away. She tossed her head back and shook it to straighten out her hair. She sighed and I ached at the pain I heard in the sound. "Look, I'd never say this in front of the troops and I'll call anyone who repeats it a liar, but . . . but you're the reason why I'm here."