"Star Commander, one of your warriors must travel as point, clearing the way. I will follow, then you and the other two 'Mechs behind me, quiaff.Respond."

Aidan felt as if he were back on Ironhold, having to do Joanna's bidding in her role as his training officer.

"Aff, Star Captain. Horse, you take the point."

"Yes, Commander."

Aidan watched on his monitor as Horse forged ahead of Joanna. On their private channel, Horse said softly, "Jorge, what is going on here? That arrogant bitch is bossing you around like a—"

"She has the rank, Horse."

"But she has never been on Glory before. Any sensible officer would defer—"

"She has the rank."

"You are capitulating too easily. That is not like you. Something is wrong. Is it the dark band? It is, isn't it?"

"Do your job, Horse."

"I did not know the dark band turned its wearer into a coward."

Aidan felt like screaming at Horse, but he kept his voice calm. "Do as you have been ordered, Horse."

Horse grumbled, but he began to lead the Star, restored temporarily to the full five Points, out of the clearing and into an area of jungle that seemed darker and more threatening than anything they had seen so far.

11

With every unit in which she had ever served, Joanna immediately became notorious for her cool indifference. No disaster, no tragedy, no death of a comrade could break through her wall of ice or rock. However, the wall broke down often enough to terrify her subordinates. She could become angry, even wrathful, in the face of incompetence and stupidity. Too many such eruptions had, in fact, kept her in rank for too long. And a certain strategic carelessness had led to her many failed attempts to win a Bloodname.

Her famed indifference was severely tested in Glory's jungle, as she and Aidan's Star came across one piece after another of crash debris. She saw Battle-Mechs so damaged they could never be repaired in time for the current struggle with Clan Wolf. She saw warriors of her command lying dead amid tangled wreckage or barely able to walk forward to greet her. She saw blood in pools and streaks, blood as dewfall from leaves. The scenes were enough to draw a tear or a sigh of regret from even a Clan warrior. She heard gasps over the commlink from the warriors in Aidan's Star, her Star now, but of course they were freebirth filth and could not be expected to maintain proper decorum. Still, even Joanna had to admit some inner pangs of revulsion. Not that she would display them physically or verbally. Even more than revulsion, she felt anger at the sheer waste of it all. Once she had had a Trinary to command. Now she was reduced—at least temporarily—to a Star of freebirth filth. And the few operable 'Mechs from the Trinary that were able to rev up and follow her Star. She nearly smiled when she thought of the phrase. Follow her star. That was an old saying, was it not, one that probably dated back to Terran history. In villages she had occasionally heard people say, "Follow your star and success will be yours." Villages were good places to hear useless conventional wisdom. Freeborns could buttress their lives with the most regrettable apothegms and catch-phrases. Warriors did not need them. For a Clan warrior, the only gains were those achieved personally. One succeeded at the Trials, one was victorious in war, one achieved a Bloodname, one contributed to the sacred gene pool. There was no need to follow a star or rely on faith or trust in fate, as lower castes often did. A warrior was his or her own reason for faith, his or her own director of fate.

At any rate, her unit now numbered nine. She, the four warriors from Aidan's Star, and the four remaining Trinary warriors. Other surviving personnel—techs and warriors whose 'Mechs were inoperable—were crammed into 'Mech cockpits for transport back to Glory Station, where they might be useful as reserves or support personnel.

Aidan had wanted to suggest leaving behind the techs and the warriors without 'Mechs, to be rescued later. The unit as a whole could move faster without placing extra burdens on the 'Mechs. But Joanna did not ask his opinion, and the dark band prevented him from volunteering advice. So what? he thought. The band, after all, made little difference when dealing with Joanna. She would not listen to advice, no matter who offered it. Once she had decided what the universe was about, it could never be anything else. She had been that way on Ironhold, and seemed to have changed little since then.

Now all the 'Mechs were gathered in a clearing. The vegetation was less dense over this part of the godforsaken jungle, and the night brought some slight illumination from the few stars seen through the canopy overhead. Perhaps the animals of the place were disturbed by the strangers in their midst for there were more sounds of movement among the trees, and chatterings, screeches, and calls seemed to increase rather than settle down for the night.

"Star Commander Jorge," came Joanna's hated voice over the comm, "we have, I believe, accounted for every warrior in the Trinary. Some techs are still among the missing but, well, they are merely techs, after all."

Aidan understood her only too well. By "merely techs," she was saying that they were, most of them, freeborns. And the trueborns among them had failed to qualify as warriors. So they were all expendable, disposable.

"Can you supply me the coordinates of this location so I may plot our journey to Glory Station?" Aidan enjoyed the privilege of remaining silent, awaiting her specific permission. "All right, all right. Respond, Jorge."

"I can transfer the program to your communications system, but I recommend you allow us to guide you and your warriors out. We have traveled this way before. There are many pitfalls, dangers ..."

Her sudden silence entertained Aidan. He pictured Joanna in her cockpit, squirming relentlessly, struggling with herself to give in for onceon a point.

"I agree," she finally said. "And Jorge . . . From now on, I give you permission to respond without awaiting my signal in any mission or tactical situation."

How much that concession must have cost her, he thought, and the idea gave him more enjoyment than a triple fusionnaire with a native wine chaser.

His pleasure was short-lived, broken by the distant sound of explosions and the flashes of light suddenly illuminating the jungle canopy.

"Freebirth!" Joanna shouted. Even over the comm, the stridency of her tone came through. "The battle has begun. We must get started. How far is it to Glory Station?"

"About a hundred kilometers."

"And the plain is nearby?"

"The site Kael Pershaw has chosen is ten or twelve kilometers from the station."

"That is too far. Plot our course so that we come out of the swamp on Glory Plain."

"With all due respect, Captain, I think we require some downtime in the station to make repairs and—"

"We have no time to backtrack to the station. We are Clan. It does not matter if our 'Mechs need repair. Considering the many we lost in the crash, I believe destiny has awarded us our present condition."

Aidan wanted to tell Joanna that she was getting carried away, but he held his tongue.

"Kael Pershaw is undermanned," she continued. "His bid is demeaned by Clan Wolf's deceptive strategy. If we are not on the field soon, the battle will be lost. Jorge, you and your unit are bid into the battle, quiaff?"

"Aff."

"I thought that, as you were freeborns, you might have been withheld. You must choose our route to Glory Plain."