"Elson, the Dragoons are building their own force of Elementals. You are well aware that we are short of experienced commanders who know how to handle such a force. We need experts. You have advanced faster than any of the other bondsmen we took on Luthien, proving that you are an expert." The colonel paused, obviously awaiting a reaction. Elson presented the same stone face to praise as he had to insult. Nikkitch's face flashed with a brief expression of annoyance. "Would you be willing to work with me on organizing Dragoons Elemental units?"

"Does this mean I will not be given a command?"

Nikkitch smiled slyly. "Afraid you won't see battle?"

Elson gave him the stock answer. "In battle there is honor."

"Dragoon commanders do not have a reputation for sitting in camp while the grunts do the fighting."

"Then there will be a command?"

"Yes. And more, if you want it. You have potential, Elson."

"Then I accept. Bargained and well done." He stood and offered his hand.

Nikkitch laughed as he took the hand. "Bargained and well done, then. The formal ceremonies will be at the end of the month, but let me be the first to welcome you to the ranks, Elson Wolfson."

Elson released his grip. Wolfsonindeed!

Nikkitch's eyes narrowed. "Now what?"

"I earned the name Novacat when I was inducted into the ranks of Clan Nova Cat's warriors. Though I have been accepted into your ranks, I will not surrender that honor."

Nikkitch sighed. "I'd hoped you would try to fit in. That name isn't going to make you any friends among the oldsters."

Elson replied with a contemptuous stare. What the "oldsters," the original Dragoons, thought of his name was of little consequence to him. They harped on Clan Wolf's feud with the Nova Cats, but that was waste heat. What did it really matter to them? They were all freeborns who had proven the trueborns' opinion of their kind. Had they not turned their backs on the heritage of the Clans? Had they not turned traitor to Nicholas Kerensky's dream?

Let Elson's name remind them of what they had spurned. It mattered little that he himself was free-born. He had earned his honor, won his name as a warrior. That had been his first step in proving the worth of his genes. He had shown these Dragoons that he was worthy of a warrior's name. Now he would show them that he was worthy of more.

4

The duly appointed panel of the Mercenary Review and Bonding Commission filed into the chamber. The first three members were stern-faced, properly somber. The fourth and last to enter, Colonel Wayne Waco, looked smug, as if secretly pleased about something. Yes, it was thatWayne Waco, the one whose Waco Rangers claimed a blood feud with the Dragoons. His presence on the panel was unavoidable. Under the new commission rules, an inquiry panel must always have a mercenary commander as one of its members, and Colonel Waco had come up in the rotation. The Dragoons had already used their one veto to disempanel the Draconis Combine representative. Despite the Dragoons' presence at the siege of Luthien, Colonel Jaime Wolf still maintained that the Dragoons were feuding with House Kurita, the rulers of the Combine. Unlike the Rangers, the Clan-born Dragoons understood real blood feuds just as well as the neo-samurai of House Kurita. A Kuritan on the panel would have been more damaging than the sour old leader of the Rangers.

Even with the Wacko Ranger, it seemed that the panel would be sympathetic to the Dragoons. Both Great House representatives belonged to factions that very much desired the Dragoons' good will. Baron Humfrey Donahugue of House Davion had been one of the negotiators of the contract that had brought the Dragoons from the Combine to the Federated Suns back in 3028, at the start of the Fourth Succession War. He was as much a friend of the Dragoons as any employer could be. The other House representative was Freiherr Rolf Bjafnesson of the Free Rasalhague Republic. With Rasalhague almost completely under Clan domination, the FRR government was seeking aid and friends wherever anyone would stand still long enough to listen.

The panel was chaired by the obligatory ComStar official, one Merideth Ambridge. I didn't know what her official title was. A year ago calling her an adept would have been proper, but ComStar was going through changes. Most of the members we met nowadays were touchy about the use of the mystic titles they had formerly insisted upon. Whatever her title, Ambridge seemed fair and open-minded during the hearings. She called the session to order with a tap on the touch pad at her place, making the recorded sound of a gong to peal from hidden speakers.

"Let the representative of Wolf's Dragoons stand before the panel," she said.

Colonel Jaime Wolf rose from his seat. If he was intimidated by the august assembly and its solemn demeanor, he gave no sign. He walked smartly to the open space before the table and came smoothly to attention. Age had done nothing to diminish his military manner. Indeed, as he raked his gaze across the panel, it was more as if they were the ones on trial. Even the ComStar official flinched as the Wolf's eyes touched her.

"Colonel Wolf," she said hesitantly, "we did not expect to see you. This complaint involves only one battalion of Gamma Regiment."

"If it involves a single Dragoon, madame, it involves me."

"Been saying that for years," Waco sneered.

The Wolf ignored him. He had been doing that for years as well.

Ambridge cleared her throat. She spoke haltingly, nervously. "Then, we must presume that you stand to accept the judgement of this commission. The unit commander of record signed the document agreeing to abide by the recommendation of the panel. By coming before this panel, you are personally assuming this obligation."

"That is correct."

"If you're willing to take the blame, it'll apply to the whole lot of you murderers." Waco Rogers looked like a hunting cat about to pounce. If he'd had a tail, it would have been twitching.

"Colonel Waco, you are out of order," Baron Donahugue said. The fat old diplomat seemed outraged. "The judgement applies only to the unit cited and its immediate commander."

Both Freiherr Bjarnesson and Waco started to speak, but Ambridge rapped her touch pad. The gong drowned out their words. When quiet returned, she spoke.

"Despite the esteemed Colonel Waco's manner, he is partially correct. Colonel Wolf, you do understand that the recommended sanctions are intended to apply only to the unit involved and its commander? And that by stepping into Major Kantov's place, you will take any punitive obligations onto the Dragoons as a whole."

"I do."

"You need not do this, Colonel," she said. "Major Kantov was the officer in charge. He is the commanding officer of record, according to the complaint."

Next to me Kantov shifted in his seat. I could smell the stink of nervous sweat rising from him. Out in the center, before all eyes, the Wolf never wavered. "He is a Dragoon and, therefore, under my command," was his response.

Ambridge looked uncomfortable. It didn't take a scientist's genes to figure out that the judgement had come out against the Dragoons. Even Kantov could tell.

"Very well, then," Ambridge said. "A moment, Madame Chairperson," Baron Donahugue said quietly. Ambridge turned to face him with a raised eyebrow. "I should like to ask Colonel Wolf a question. Off the record, of course." She nodded assent and he turned to the Wolf. "Colonel, I applaud your loyalty to your troops, but I should think you might want to reconsider."