The Lyran saw him coming, turning as Theodore recovered from the landing. The Ostrocunleashed a full fusillade of laser fire. One of the weapons missed the hulking Victorcompletely, but the other three savaged the 'Mech's duralex sheathing. Armor plates flowed, revealing further layers, shiny from partial melting.

Theodore fired his jump jets again, trying to overlap his enemy and catch him from behind. The Lyran reacted, the stubby snouts of all four lasers tracking the flight of the Victor.Ruby pulses sought the Kurita 'Mech's vitals, but the heat build-up in the Lyran machine must have affected its targeting computers. The pilot missed what should have been an easy shot.

The Victorgrounded a scant ten meters behind the Ostroc.Theodore fired the Pontiac, then closed without waiting to see the results. Fragments pattered against the Victoras 100mm shells shattered the weak back armor of the Lyran 'Mech. Armor vanished, exposing the machine's internal superstructure. It, too, cratered and disappeared under the explosive fury of the shells. The Ostroc'schestplate and right arm leaped into the air as the 'Mech's rocket storage ignited in a violent chain of explosions. The Steiner machine toppled, a disjointed puppet bereft of guidance.

Theodore aborted the kick he had intended to cripple the Ostroc'sleft leg.

Victory was short-lived. Theodore's 'Mech rocked under renewed assault by the persistent Marauder.The Lyran's PPCs gobbled the Victor's back armor, exposing its inner workings. The Victortoppled under the violence of the attack, crashing to the ground before Theodore could compensate.

The impact jarred him, costing him precious seconds as the alien shape of the Marauderstalked closer. The advancing 'Mech pulverized concrete blocks under its clawed feet as it scrambled over a wall of rubble. Its carapace swiveled to point in Theodore's direction, lining up under the dorsal autocannon, which spat explosive death at the downed Victor.

Lyran shells crawled destructively across the breast of the Victorand crashed into the 'Mech's head. The cockpit rang under the pounding, pitching under the release of kinetic energy. Theodore was tossed violently about. When his neuro-helmet connections ripped free, Theodore was slammed back against the command couch, stunned.

Lacking the neural feedback from Theodore's system, the Victorwent limp, lying defenseless before the Marauder.Wary of a trick, the Lyran advanced cautiously. At thirty-five meters, it halted. One massive, blocky forearm rose and extended toward the fallen 'Mech's leg. Cyan energy howled out to caress the limb, flaying armor plates under its hellish energy. The Lyran pilot fired again, dissolving the rest of the Victor's protective covering. Exposed actuators and myomer pseudomuscles melted and flowed under a third blast. Coolant fluid from ruptured lines flash-boiled in an explosive burst of steam.

Satisfied that the Victorwas crippled, the Lyran paced his 'Mech forward to stand towering over his fallen enemy.

Dazed, Theodore wondered if the Lyran intended to boil him within the 'Mech or to ask for a surrender. There was nothing more that he could do. He was trapped in his cockpit, the right side of his body pinned under a massive tangle that used to be his system function board. His right arm, limp and broken, rested on the comm board. Theodore had fought as well as he could against a superior foe; there was no shame in this defeat.

The hiss of particle beams heralded another twist in the flow of the battle. One of the azure bolts creased the Marauder'sright leg, furrowing globs of molten armor from it. Multiple missile impacts cratered the 'Mech's turbine-shaped air exchanger system high on the left-rear torso. The Maraudercrouched down under the impact, then straightened, shrugging off the damage. It swiveled its carapace to the left, directing a blast from the Magna Hellstar PPC in the left forearm at an unseen target. An autocannon roared out its own response to the Marauder'sright. The Lyran 'Mech held its ground.

Did the Lyran know who lay at his mercy?Theodore wondered.

Another flight of missiles screamed in to chip away at the thick plating on the Marauder'supper carapace. The Lyran, exhibiting admirable fire discipline, paced his shots by alternately firing the Hellstar PPC and 5cm laser in the left weapon arm, then those in the right. The autocannon howled constantly.

Theodore, desperate to bring the Victorback into the battle, found that his neurohelmet was shattered beyond hope and that the autonomic feedback systems that allowed free play of the Victor'sarms were gone. He steadied his breathing, reaching for his hara.The faint voice of Tetsuhara- senseiwhispered in his head, Pain is a thing of the mind, and the mind is the servant of the spirit.

Hai, sensei. I will control my pain.He reached out with his shattered arm, watching the bone ends slide past one another as he straightened the limb. Clinically, he observed the fresh blood flow as his fingers tapped out the code to elevate the Victor'sright arm.

Through the shattered viewport, he watched the wide muzzle of the Pontiac 100 cant toward the sky, surprised to see the machine respond. His karma was good, then. He reached for the grip and depressed the firing stud.

Deep booming echoed through the cockpit as the Pontiac's cassette round emptied, sending 100mm shells tearing into the underbelly of the Marauder.The Lyran 'Mech jerked upward from the impact. Theodore fired again. One of the Marauder'slegs stiffened spasmodically as its myomer pseudomuscles contracted under a faulty command. Trailing smoke and sparks, the 'Mech collapsed onto the Victor.

Darkness filled the cockpit as seventy-five tons of incapacitated BattleMech crashed to the ground. Theodore sighed, releasing his control and letting the darkness fill his mind as well. Warm and welcoming, it caressed and took him far from the stink and heat of the battlefield.

Well done,said Tetsuhara- sensei's ghostly voice.

33

South Nantuo , Vega

Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine

Late December 3028

The soft susurrus of the military command center in the next room called Theodore from his foggy dreams. Awakening to the concerned faces of Ben Tourneville and Fuhito Tetsuhara, he tried to raise his right arm to wave them back. When his arm did not respond, he looked down to find it encased in a preserving sleeve. He also recognized the itch of peeling plastiflesh on his forehead. The memory of his last battle came back.

"The physicians say that you should recover full use of the arm, Tai-sa,"Fuhito assured him. "You will have a scar on your head, though."

"You must have complete rest," Tourneville insisted.

Theodore shook his head. While Steiner forces infested Vega, he could not rest. A samurai would never be kept from his duty by personal injury.

"There was some trouble with Heise and Nordica while you were unconscious," Fuhito said cautiously. "They did not understand your plan and wished to jeopardize it by running in different directions. Using her authority as your executive, Sho-saSakade has placed me in command."

"It is most irregular," Tourneville observed sourly.

"But has it worked?" Theodore asked, turning to Fuhito.

"I've tried to see that the spirit of your plans was followed, Tai-sa,"Fuhito answered with a shrug. "It's not for me to say if I have succeeded."