"And you shall be, Ragnar." Phelan smiled confidently. "Ragnar served valiantly during the battle for Tukayyid. He was assigned to an evacuation battalion, but actually saw combat when a Com Guard squad raided the area where his hospital stood."

Victor smiled. "That's no surprise. On Outreach Ragnar was always more than game." Victor shook his head.

"Looking at him, and looking at you, Phelan, I am impressed at the loyalty the Clans can inspire in outsiders."

Ranna smiled and squeezed Phelan's hand. "Forgive me, Prince Davion, but neither Phelan nor Ragnar were outsiders once they became bondsmen. Your people equate our bonding with slavery, but that is incorrect. We value all the castes."

"I see. I intended no slight, Star Captain." Victor smiled as charmingly as he could. "I am struck, though, by the changes wrought in both men. It makes me wonder that we ever managed to defeat the Clans."

"You did not defeat us, Victor." Phelan's voice took on an edge that the Prince did not like at all. "We beat ourselves because the ilKhan chose that it be so. Yes, you had your, victories over the Jade Falcons, while the Combine and some elite mercenaries were able to beat the Smoke Jaguars and the Nova Cats. Those were great triumphs for the Inner Sphere, and you have the right to be proud. Even so, to think of the Clans as defeated is an error."

"But ComStar has made a truce." Victor raised his head. "The Clans have agreed not to advance beyond the truce line toward Terra. Having lost the chance to win that objective, your comrades seem also to have lost the ability to coordinate their operations. What happened to the massive invasion, with simultaneous strikes against multiple worlds? Last year my troops dealt handily with the Falcons' invasion of Morges and the Steel Viper strike at Crimond. And this year it seems to be only raids."

"Yes, the ComStar truce has somewhat diluted the single-minded unity among the various Clans. But no matter how well either you or the Draconis Combine are able to repel the limited attacks and raids launched against your worlds above the truce line, the truce will not last forever."

Victor arched an eyebrow. "And?"

"And," the Wolf Khan breathed quietly, "if certain elements of the Clans have their way, neither will the Inner Sphere."

2

Arc-Royal

Federated Commonwealth

13 April 3055

Christian Kell reached forward around the headrest of his pilot's command couch and tapped her on the helmet. "Nice landing, Caitlin. Thanks."

"My pleasure," crackled back through the speakers in his helmet. Caitlin hit the release button and the canopy slid back into the body of the aerospace fighter. "I needed to log the hours on this Stingrayanyway. With all the traveling we've been doing, I came close to losing my certification."

As the swept-wing fighter rolled to a slow stop in the Kell Hound hangar, techs began almost immediately to fit aluminum ladders to the sides of the cockpit. Chris mumbled "Arigato, "as he dismounted, then quickly remembered to append the word "thanks." The tech standing at the bottom of the ladder smiled.

"You're welcome, Major. The Old Man wants to see you and Lieutenant Kell pronto. Has your cousin with him."

Chris nodded and removed his helmet. The hangar's cool air soaked through his sweaty black hair and raised goose bumps all over his body. Chris handed the tech his helmet, then gave the man a quick nod. "Thank you, Mr. Hanson. Cait, did you hear that?"

Pulling off her helmet, Caitlin freed a cascade of black hair that splashed over the shoulders of her cooling vest. They looked enough alike, Chris had repeatedly been told, to be more than cousins, though Chris's brown eyes were a marked contrast to the green of Caitlin's. Looking at her, Chris could see the similarities, but having been raised outside the Kell Hound environment, he saw even more the differences.

"Message received," she said with a smile. "I wonder if Colonel Allard is angry about my using a pass around the small moon to decelerate."

Chris shook his head. "I do not know." What I'm wondering is if the cousin mentioned isour cousin, oryour brother.Chris waved Caitlin toward the door into the base facility, then followed behind, still lost in thought. He tried to examine which he would prefer: meeting Victor Davion or Phelan Ward.

He knew Victor from their days in the training cadre on Outreach, where Wolf's Dragoons had tried to teach Inner Sphere warriors the ways of Clan warriors. Both Chris and MacKenzie Wolf had trained Victor and the other sons and daughters of the ruling houses of the Inner Sphere. Victor had showed great promise, and realized far more of it than Chris or Mac—had he lived to see it-would have thought possible. Still, Victor had a prickly attitude that alienated potential allies as much as it bedeviled his enemies.

Phelan was, for Chris, an even trickier proposition. In 3042 Chris had presented himself to his uncle, Morgan Kell, and was acknowledged as Patrick Kell's son. Morgan left the Hounds at that point and brought Chris to the Dragoons' world of Outreach for training. Chris had drilled there for the next three years, then joined the Hounds as a lieutenant in command of a lance.

Before leaving for Outreach and in the brief time before his assignment to the Kell Hounds Second Regiment, Chris had sensed some resentment from Phelan. At first he had put it down to Phelan's rather logical dislike of a newcomer who had as much of a blood claim to the leadership of the Kell Hounds as did Phelan himself. It later occurred to Chris that Phelan's resentment might likely have been due to his fear that Chris would damage the legend of Patrick Kell and the Kell Hounds as a whole by not being able to live up to it.

By the time Chris had proven himself in combat, assuming the leadership of his company after the death of its commander, Phelan had left for the Nagelring. Then came the battle on The Rock, in which Phelan had been believed killed. Chris was pleased for Morgan's sake when he'd learned that Phelan had not died on The Rock, but he was angry to learn that Phelan had gone over to the Clans. Not only were the Clans the greatest threat the Inner Sphere had ever faced, but the invasion had been devastating to the Draconis Combine—the nation of his birth.

Chris still had not decided between Victor Davion and Phelan Ward by the time he reached the briefing office. The huge oak meeting table dominated the far end of the room, making the whole enclosure seem small. Two men had already taken seats opposite each other at the near end of the table and had turned on the lights only at the door-end of the room.

As Chris and Caitlin entered, Lieutenant-Colonel Daniel Allard stood, saluted both pilot and passenger, then also shook hands with each one. "Good to see you both again. Caitlin, so nice of you to buzz the moon base to let us know you were coming."

Caitlin blushed just a bit, and glanced down in mock penitence for a moment, then smiled. "The decel saved some fuel, Colonel."

Dan nodded, a wisp of white hair flopping down over his forehead. "I appreciate that, but I would prefer you kept such tactical details quiet in front of a potential employer. " The Colonel raked his hair back into place with his fingers, then smiled at the other man in the room. "You both remember Prince Victor Steiner-Davion."

"Cousin!" Caitlin stepped forward and embraced Victor as the Prince rose from his chair. Victor returned the hug with a laugh, then released Caitlin and looked at Chris. "Good to see you again, Christian."