"You do not sound confident in your ability to defeat them, Precentor Martial. I would have expected more from a MechWarrior with your illustrious career."

Focht brought his head up with deliberate motion so the projection would ape it. "Primus, it has been nearly twenty-three years since I last fought in a battle that was not a simulation. Before that, I fought whenever the Archon called upon me to do so. I led the best troops the Lyran Commonwealth had to offer, and I can tell you that our Com Guards are even better.

"I did not always know victory, but I learned to respect my enemies, and the Clans are deserving of every gram of respect I can muster. I cannot imagine the Tenth Lyran Guards performing better under my leadership than they have under Prince Victor Ian Davion, but the Jade Falcons tore them to pieces on Alyina."

While his left hand made a broad, sweeping gesture to distract her, Focht used his right to increase the ICR scale to 1=1, making the Clan 'Mechs rise up and dwarf him. "As we have known from the beginning, the Clans are the greatest threat the Inner Sphere has ever faced, and now their path leads directly to Terra. I will stop them, but I must have your full support in gathering my troops and forming my plans."

"And you willhave my complete support." The Primus' shoulders slumped slightly. "I will see to it that nothing stands between you and victory."

"Good." Now to make the final request."Then you will grant me permission to travel out to meet with Khan Ulric to bargain this fight in the Clan manner."

Though Focht had kept his voice low and matter-of-fact, the Primus' eyes grew wide and her face flushed. "What? Are you mad?" Within the ICR world, the Precentor Martial expected the lightning in her eyes to shoot out and destroy him. "I cannot allow my Warlord to travel to the camp of the enemy. What if they capture and torture you? I have seen the-report on how they broke Phelan Kell. You might last longer than he, but you would divulge all our secrets in the end. That I cannot chance."

"Primus, I mustgo." Focht signaled the computer to increase the time rate so that the world sank into nighttime shadows. "Khan Ulric will know this is a trap. He will know that we are lying in wait for him. The only way I can get him to agree to put the Clans' head into the mouth of the ComStar lion is to beard him in his own den. He will welcome my show of bravery, and he will respect it. Furthermore, my act will challenge the other Clans, so when Ulric calls for them to participate, they will comply. A formal bargaining session with the ilKhan is as vital to this operation as supplies and troops."

He saw her face close over, and he knew he had lost. "No, Precentor Martial. I cannot allow it. I will not allow it."

"Think about it, Primus. Consult the First Circuit before making your decision final." He folded his arms and met her electric stare evenly. "If you do not allow me to meet with Ulric face to face, to set this battle, you should begin practicing."

She looked puzzled. "Don't speak in riddles, Precentor Martial. I know who and what you really are, and such mystical nonsense ill become you. I should start practicing what?"

"Practicing what you'll tell Ulric when he bargains with you for the defense of Terra."

In a flash the cloud went blank, leaving a void amid a star-filled night sky. The Precentor Martial shook his head. "The one thing politicians will never understand is the warrior's need to know the opponent he faces is a true warrior.

It doesn't surprise me, for politicians consider compromise complete victory. In this war, no compromise is possible because anything short of total victory over the Clans will mean the death of ComStar."

Focht drew in a deep breath and sighed heavily. "Computer, Boreal continent, Cokoladu Mountains. Run the approach of the Nova Cat Lancers again...."

8

DropShip Barbarossa , Nadir Jump Point

Biota, Federated Commonwealth

7 February 3052

Victor Ian Davion tugged at the hem of his waistcoat, then knocked on the bulkhead beside the Captain's cabin hatchway. Under normal circumstances, he would have foregone any formality in meeting with his cousin, Marshal Morgan Hasek-Davion, but the message requesting his presence had asked for KommandantDavion, which meant the visit was business, not pleasure. "Kommandant Victor Davion reporting as ordered, sir."

"Come in, Victor." Seated behind the small, spindly-legged desk, Morgan Hasek-Davion looked like a titan trapped in a dwarven hall. His long red hair hung down to obscure the golden epaulets capping the shoulders of his black uniform. With one huge hand, Morgan waved Victor to a chair, but took no offense when Victor remained standing. "I am glad to see you are well. I understand you had a rough time of it on Alyina."

A rough time? My best friend dies saving my life and my command is crushed? And now you're here to take my command away."I was unhurt, Marshal. The same cannot be said of my people. I don't know what happened. They overwhelmed us."

Morgan stopped Victor by holding up a hand. "Analysis of the battleroms indicates no culpability or negligence on your part. You and your people did all you could. The Clans shifted tactics and came at you harder than they have before. What happened on Alyina was not your fault."

Victor raised his eyes to meet Morgan's green gaze. "If that is so, why have you come here to strip me of my command?"

The question clearly surprised Morgan. "What are you talking about?"

"I know what's going on, Marshal." The diminutive Prince clasped his hands at the small of his back. "The grapevine has already let it be known that the Tenth Lyran Guards are bound on a command circuit for Port Moseby. We're going there for rest and refit, or so it goes, but I know the truth. We're being sent to the rear because we got pounded on Alyina. Other line units are coming up to take our place. You're mothballing the Tenth Lyran and ruining General Andrea Kaulkas' career because of the perception that I'vescrewed up."

"Nonsense. As I said before, Alyina was not your fault."

Victor's gray eyes flicked up. "If that is so, transfer me to another combat command."

"I cannot do that, Victor."

"Not in your Kathil Uhlans. I would be honored to serve there, but too many people would figure I had been given a command there because of who I am, not what I am. I won't have that." Victor closed his eyes and concentrated. "Let me serve in the Eleventh Donegal Guards or the Second Crucis Lancers."

Morgan shook his head slowly. "I cannot do that, Victor. I cannot just give you a command in another military unit. I would not do that for another officer of your rank, so if you want to avoid charges of favoritism, I suggest you refrain from asking for favors."

The remark stung Victor and he gritted his teeth to bite back the pain. "Marshal, there can be only two reasons why I am being sent for R&R with the Tenth Lyran. The first is that my performance in the field is considered disastrous. Perhaps that appears to be the case, as I've had two commands blown out from under me. I do not think it is a fair charge, however, because we faced the Clans for the first time on Trellwan, when we still did not know how to deal with them. On Alyina they shifted tactics, and we saw this too late to adapt to their new approach. Even so, we made them pay for their victory."