The dark shape was Pietr Shadd in his battle armor. I imagined his disapproving face behind the viewplate of the armor's headpiece, but he said nothing. He fired his jump jets again and was gone.

I dropped the black box I was supposed to have attached to the fence. It was useless now. The element of surprise had been lost when the fence's power went out. No longer afraid of setting off an alarm, Shadd's Star roared over the fence and began bounding toward Assembly Buildings 4 and 5. Each Elemental's battle armor had been repainted especially for this raid. Snarling Nova Cats leapt across each pauldron.

In the distance I could see Blackwell guards boiling out of their barracks to the accompaniment of the bleating alarm. The duty guards were wearing vests, but half of the suddenly activated reserves had only their uniforms. They all carried light weapons, nothing that would be a significant danger to the Elementals' battle armor. Had the guards guessed they'd be facing Elementals, they might have spent a little time in the armory first.

My electronics expertise no longer needed, I left the infantry to their battle and headed back to my Loki.At a full run, it took me ten minutes. I was panting as I climbed the ladder into the cockpit, and more winded by the time I hit the button that retracted the ladder while I shrugged into my cooling vest. But I was happier; as dangerous as battle is for a man in a 'Mech, it is worse for everyone else.

My commo board was lit with incoming calls and the open channel to my lance was full of Grant's voice.

"What happened?"

"I fell asleep. Now shut up and let me find out how bad it is."

Amazingly, it wasn't bad at all.

The Blackwell bosses were just beginning to react to the jamming. I cut in Program Two, randomly punching in variations to keep the waves locked. Shadd reported reaching the buildings, and I released Grant to launch long-range volleys against targets that the

Elemental ground team designated. When the first whooshing roar was accompanied by the acrid scent of rocket propellant, I realized I hadn't sealed the Loki.There was so much else to do that I was coughing steadily by the time I could spare a moment to button up.

I was wondering if we'd have to take the 'Mechs in. The Wolf hadn't wanted that. He wanted a fast, clean strike with minimal damage and all the hallmarks of a pure Elemental raid. Once BattleMechs got into it, we'd blow our cover—and blow up a lot of property.

Shadd's channel beeped with the Go code. His team had reached and secured the objective. Soon they'd be roaring back to join us and we'd be out of there.

Other channels carried even better news. Maeve had met the enemy and their forces were on the run.

46

We got a breather after our transfer to Green Sector, and we needed it. Our Battlegroup G—no, we were D after the transfer; the shifting of designators might be masking our forces from the opposition, but the practice caused us a few problems as well—had survived a number of encounters with Gamma Regiment's probes and needed repair, resupply, and refit. Although we would never say it in front of them, we were glad to see the conventional forces go in to hold the line for a while. I hoped they'd do as well as those ranked against Epsilon Regiment in Blue Sector.

Over in Blue, the Home Guard forces were having a relatively easy time of it. Neither side was being aggressive. Battlegroup H met any attempts to thrust through or around the Guard positions, and Nichole's MechWarriors usually backed away as soon as the Kuritans put in an appearance. The pattern had led the Colonel to believe that Nichole was not wholeheartedly behind the assault. He played into that, willing to keep things at a simmer as long as she was. Naturally, the Kuritans kept requesting permission to go over to the attack against such an obviously weak-willed enemy. Fortunately, they obeyed the Colonel; he was not about to send them against such a numerically superior enemy, no matter how weak-willed.

We had replaced Maeve's Battlegroup A in Green Sector as part of the Colonel's policy of shifting us around to keep Alpin's forces guessing about who they were facing. That's when we became Battlegroup D and Maeve's strike force had gone from A to N.

It was lucky timing, for almost as soon as the transfer was complete, Parella's Gamma Regiment had started a serious push in Red Sector. His initial success brought Alpin in on top of him; no doubt the self-proclaimed Khan was urging Parella to accelerate the assault. They hit Battlegroup N, Maeve's reinforced Spider's Web Battalion, and a couple of battalions of armor, but Maeve stalled them as she had Beta. The drive stopped, dissolving into the raiding we'd lived with for almost a week.

Dragoons in the field were used to full support. Our haphazard supply arrangements in this action meant going without a lot of the things we'd all become used to. The privations made life in the harsh Outback even more rigorous. Complaining didn't make it any better, but we all complained just the same. It made us feelbetter.

Battlegroup D's sector had been quiet for several days now and we'd been able to operate out of this base camp for almost a week. It was beginning to have a few of the amenities.

One of our advantages was Master Tech Bynfield. She was a crusty old wrench jock, but she knew battle machines, even the Omnis, like she was one of them. I'd heard that she'd cross-trained with the scientists to learn more about man-machine interfaces. With the help of our chief medtech, Gaf Schlomo, she had all our machines responding superbly. The two of them made an unbeatable team, even when they weren't working together to fine-tune our neurohelmets. If it hadn't been for her, we would have been short on operational 'Mechs, and if it hadn't been for him, we would have been even shorter on operational soldiers.

Techs don't normally spend their free time with

MechWarriors, but Bynfield and Schlomo were such a part of our group that none of the warriors, even the old-timers, objected when they joined us around the cook fires after the evening meal. It was only the lack of aerial surveillance that made the luxury of those fires available to us. That lack was something we bitched about when we needed to know where the hostiles were, but nobody complained about it on those cold nights. Naturally, we talked about what was going on around us. And of course no one wanted to suggest that we might lose this war being fought to restore the Colonel to his rightful place. So we also talked about what we'd do after things were settled, even knowing that some us might never have an after. Grant, as usual, was the most talkative.

"When we get back to the World, I'm gonna do what comes natural. That's for sure. Gonna take me a Dragoon's right and make myself a replacement. That's what I'm gonna do." He grinned all around. "Howz-about you, Brian boy? That Maeve you're so sweet on has got the right kind of terrain. You and her gonna make some little Dragoons and fill up the ranks?"

I was saved by the fire, which made everyone's face look flushed, but I didn't trust my voice. Giving only a shrug, I tried to make my expression wry enough to be an answer.

"Need to check her bloodline," Circoni said.

"Hey, old-timer, we ain't Clan anymore. Freeborn is fine among the Dragoons."

Circoni laughed. "And a damn good thing, too. I meant that you'd have to check the records and make sure there's no inbreeding. I think she's a sibkid and I know our fearless leader Brian is, even if he did earn back his bloodline name."

"I ain't no scientist, but I don't see a problem," said Captain Slezak, my battlegroup second. He had been one of the children who'd left the Clans with the Dragoons. "Just use your eyes. That tall drink Brian can't have many genes in common with the feisty little she-wolf."