The race through the DropShip to the 'Mech bay was not easy. Each direct hit knocked either Joanna or Nomad, and sometimes both, against walls or hurled them to the floor. Other ship personnel were hurled against them as dull blasts reverberated into the bowels of the ship. At one point, the ship's lighting failed for a minute and a half, and they had to grope around in the dark, feeling the sides of the walls, using the stumble-bars to propel themselves forward. Once Joanna glanced back and saw the unmistakable glow of a fire far down the corridor.

In the bay were the techs of the Trinary, working quickly and efficiently to prepare their charges for an atmospheric drop. A cocoon of ablative ceramic surrounded each of the Trinary's fifteen BattleMechs. As the 'Mech bay was in the center of the ship, it had taken very little damage. Even better, Joanna saw that the bay doors were still functioning.

Joanna ran to the bay-door controls and pushed the naval rating away from them. She slammed the override, and began the launch sequence that would fire her Trinary into the atmosphere of Glory.

She turned to rush to her BattleMech before it was ejected from the doomed DropShip, when a massive explosion knocked her and most of the others to the floor. The lights went out again and she felt debris falling around her.

She tried to get up, but was merely knocked down again. But this time it was not a piece of the ship that held her on the floor. It was a person.

"What is going on?" she said in a muffled voice.

"The ship is out of control," Nomad yelled. He was the one on top of her. He had placed his body over hers. The damn fool, he was protecting her. How stupid could he be?

She did not have time to explore the absurdity of Nomad's behavior as the DropShip seemed to disintegrate around, below, and above her. She passed out.

* * *

In their control room, Radick and Ward watched the incredible success of their aerofighters against the Jade Falcon DropShip.

"Seyla," Radick whispered as he watched the DropShip hurtle toward the planet Glory. Ward wondered why Radick thought the ritual word applied here. Just what was the man responding to? Perhaps it was simply awe at the sheer success of his strategy. Radick was egotistical enough to interpret the event that way.

Radick glanced up at Ward. "That should put Kael Pershaw at a severe disadvantage. One lost DropShip containing a full Trinary of the forces he bid. We have a marvelous advantage with just one brilliant maneuver, quiaff?"

Ward hated agreeing with the man, but what he said was true. It had been a masterstroke, as he had originally termed it.

Radick chuckled with pleasure as the monitor screen registered the faraway fire and smoke of the Drop-Ship's crash on Glory.

"A marvelous advantage," he shouted gleefully.

6

"Star Commander Jorge, you wear the dark band, quiaff?"

"Aff." Aidan was aware of the other officers staring at him with contempt in their eyes. The spot where Bast's picture lay on the dark band seemed to burn into his skin.

"As a wearer of the dark band, you are allowed to speak only if addressed. You may not volunteer a comment or ask a question. That is understood, quiaff?"Knowing that Kael Pershaw was demanding an answer now, Aidan stubbornly remained silent. "Respond, Jorge!"

"Aff, it is understood."

"Good. Your question can therefore not be answered unless one of your colleagues would care to ask it. Warriors?"

No one cared to provoke the Star Colonel further, and so the group kept its silence. Aidan had asked if his freeborn contingent might have the honor of taking point position for the first engagement with the enemy. He knew that Pershaw would never allow a freeborn unit to precede his trueborns in formation, and so the request was a deliberate, if unpunishable, insult. The question was similar to what was called a negative bid. He had wanted to assert the worth of his forces, despite knowing that others held them in low esteem. His own warriors would know about the offer, and would have even more confidence in their commander because of it.

Though Clan warriors rarely lost confidence, a palpable gloom pervaded the room. Kael Pershaw's news that Clan Wolf had effectively wiped out a significant portion of their forces even before engaging in battle on Glory Plain did not inspire the usual pre-battle enthusiasm. Several in the group continued to stare at Aidan, who now felt a discomfiting heat flush his skin. This caused him even more shame than wearing the dark band.

After Kael Pershaw had announced a general dismissal and the warriors were filing out of the briefing chamber, the commander shouted, "Star Commander Jorge, you will remain."

When the room was empty, Kael Pershaw nodded toward a chair and said with his best menacing quietness, "Sit."

When Aidan hesitated, the base commander shoved him roughly toward the chair. The move came as such a surprise that Aidan nearly fell flat on his face. Recovering his balance and hearing Kael Pershaw again order him to sit, he obeyed. It would have been a foolish defiance to remain standing and allow the base commander to knock him around the room without any possibility of hitting the bastard back.

Kael Pershaw himself sat on the edge of the conference table, the position allowing him to look down on Aidan from a dominant position. This was the kind of kinesic strategy for which Kael Pershaw was famous.

"Your unit will not be engaged in combat this time." He stared at Aidan, savoring the suspicion that the words angered his subordinate. Aidan was careful to keep his face calm and unreadable. "I have another mission for you," Kael Pershaw said.

Although Aidan would give no physical sign of his discomfort, he had to firmly resist squirming in his chair. Pershaw's assigning him another mission, especially when he was undermanned already, merely signified how low was the prestige of freeborns at Glory Station.

"But, sir, with all respect, your forces are already weakened too—"

Pershaw took a despairing breath before saying in a voice that would not have been heard a few steps away, "I will assume you are simply not accustomed to the dark band. A freeborn normally does not complain to his superior without permission, but the wearer of the band knows he must never complain while under the shame of the band. However, I will obliquely respond to your apparent protest. Of course, I will do anything to win a battle, but I tell you, in truth, that I would rather send a single Star against a Trinary of Dwillt Radick's than commit any freebirths to the field. You understand, freebirth? You are a freebirth, are you not?"

Pershaw's soft voice emphasized the word "freebirth" just slightly each time he used it. He wished to compound the insult by setting the word off from the rest of his speech. It was all Aidan could do to keep from revealing the truth. What kept him back was the thought that if he was ever to tell anyone of his true birth and face the dire consequences of the admission, it would have to be to someone other than this vile example of humanity, this Kael Pershaw.

As his hatred of Kael Pershaw seemed to expand inside his body, Aidan realized how unClanlike, how unlike a warrior, he had become. Warriors often resented one another or disagreed with each other's actions, but hatred was rare. Warriors of the Clan detached themselves from petty feelings, knowing that such trivial sentiments could hamper battle efficiency. Pride was collective at every unit level in the chain of command, and any single hatred damaged the unity bolstered by that pride. In warrior training, cadets were trained to block any feelings of hatred. If bad blood did erupt among warriors, conflicts were resolved in such arenas as the Circle of Equals. The combatants who survived were encouraged to perform surkai,the rite of forgiveness, to purge any possible remaining negative feelings.