Again Ulric nodded formally. "The heroism and courage displayed by both Warriors have been established and verified. Your claims are not without substance. No matter what fate you meet in this battle, the brightness of your light will not be diminished." The ilKhan took a step forward and beckoned both men toward him. "Present the tokens of your legitimate right to participate here."

The two combatants solemnly lifted their coins like holy relics and approached him. As they did so, a small panel slid back in the floor and a conical stand mounted on a slender post rose up through it. Where the cone joined the post, it had been fitted with a section of clear plastic pipe that could be slid free. On opposite sides of the cone, Phelan saw a slot wide enough to accept his coin. On the part nearest to the ilKhan, he noticed a small button, but could not puzzle out its purpose. The shape of the whole device reminded Phelan of a Nagelring demonstration of how gravity wells operate.

Ulric accepted their coins and set each one in a slot. 'Though we train to be able to cope with the myriad situations of combat, we cannot control everything. A warrior worthy of a Bloodname must be able to rise above adversity to defeat the superior foe, even when at a gross disadvantage. The horrible chaos of war is reflected in this Trial of Bloodright.

"When one coin has successfully stalked the other and they complete their transit through this cone, the hunting coin will be superior. The Warrior will win the choice of style for the fight. The owner of the inferior coin will then decide the venue for the fight. In this way, each will fight on a battlefield not wholly of his choosing. Do you understand this?"

"Seyla."

As the last echoes of that word reverberated off the walls, the ilKhan pressed the button, releasing both coins. They slid down independent tracks and started rolling down the inside of the cone. Faster and faster they went, picking up speed as they sank lower and lower into the narrowing cone.

Phelan watched in both fear and excitement. Just like the gravity-well demo at the Nagelring! I'd levitate my coin higher if I could, but gravity is like death and taxes.Somehow he was sure his coin was winning the race, thereby ceding the decision to Dean. Then, as the coins started their descent into the post, they slammed into one another in a ringing collision and dropped from sight.

The two coins clunked down into the plastic pipe. Ulric carefully slid the clear section free, holding it out so all could see no sleight of hand had changed the outcome of the choice. His slender fingers plucked the top coin from the vessel and flipped it over to read the name. "Dean, you are the hunter."

Dean cracked his knuckles and grinned confidently. "The hunter sees no reason for an augmented fight. This pup has boasted beating an Elemental in a fist fight. Let us see how he does against a Ward."

Ulric looked at Phelan. "The style has been decided. Where will you be hunted?"

Phelan swallowed hard and saw his chances for victory getting sucked down into a gravity well. He started to open his mouth, then snapped it shut. He gave Dean a savage stare and smiled slowly.

Ulric watched him closely. "Phelan, where will you be hunted?"

Without breaking eye contact with Dean, Phelan raised his right hand and pointed upward. "Out there."

* * *

The DropShip's hold had been stripped of every last bit of equipment, leaving it a tall, empty arena for his fight with Dean. Aside from the exterior bulkhead, which gently curved inward to where the ship narrowed at the upper decks, the walls were normal and the angle's all 90 degrees.

Only scuffed-paint markings on the deck and oddly shaped stains from 'Mech-coolant spills hinted at this area's original function in the DropShip.

Never seen a 'Mech bay this empty.Standing there, clad only in a pair of the shorts he'd normally use in a 'Mech cockpit, Phelan had also never felt so naked. His choice of fighting in the zero gravity of space certainly helped neutralize the Elemental's strength, but it brought a whole array of other variables into play. All things being equal, he still wished they'd have let him wear the pistol he usually did when in a 'Mech cockpit.

Have to remember, equal and opposite reactions.As a child traveling with a mercenary military unit, Phelan had spent much of his youth bouncing around in the holds of DropShips in zero gravity. He couldn't remember ever fighting for his life in zero-G, though he did recall a couple of fierce wrestling matches that gamboled otterlike through the air of a hold. Not quite the same, I fear.

Phelan felt the ship tremble as the pilot fired the forward retrorockets. Grabbing a nearby stanchion, Phelan fought the tendency to float up off the deck. A second blast of retros brought the ship to a standstill in space.

The droplet of sweat that had collected at the tip of his nose jumped off and floated ball-like toward the upper deck.

It still amazed Phelan that the Clans would go to the incredible expense necessary to create this battleground for Dean and him. Here they were in a combat zone, preparing to invade Hyperion, and they cleared the 'Mechs from a deck of an assault DropShip. They detached the ship from the Dire Wolfand let it burn tons of fuel just to accommodate a one-on-one brawl by two men scrapping for a title.

But it's more than a title,he reminded himself. He knew the Bloodname held enormous power for the Clan Warriors. Winning one would assure the use of the Warrior's DNA in the Clan breeding program. It also gave the victorious Warrior a seat on the Clan Council and made him eligible for election as one of the two Khans of the Wolf clan. And, as in Cyrilla's case, a Bloodname could even provide a way to be useful to the Clans when one's military career was long over.

The Captain's voice crackled through the loudspeakers mounted in the interior bulkhead. "The ship is at zero acceleration. You have your battlefield. Skill, Warriors."

"Phelan Wolf, I will make this fast for you." Dean floated gently above the deck, drifting toward him like a ghost. The Elemental balled his fists, tensing every muscle up and down his arms into hard knots. "A freebirth like you is a disgrace to House Ward. Cyrilla must have lost her sense long ago."

Phelan bristled at the derision in Dean's voice, but forced himself to smile. "Is that so, Dean?" The MechWarrior opened his arms wide. "If you want me, come down and get me.

It took Dean about three seconds to fully comprehend his situation. He looked impressive floating there, but without propulsion gear, he could do little to affect his course of travel or speed. In a frantic effort to do anything at all, Dean began to flail about, but that only started him in a slow roll up and away from Phelan.

Pushing down on the stanchion, Phelan squatted with his legs coiled beneath him. With the swiftness of a striking snake, he kicked off and drove both his fists into the thick muscles over Dean's kidneys. The Elemental groaned with the impact, but was too intent on twisting his body around to pay much attention.

Using his opponent like a vaulting horse, Phelan spun around at an angle and drifted back down toward the deck. Most of his momentum had passed into Dean, sending the Elemental careening, but he maintained enough of it to get near the deck and bulkhead. Bending his legs to cushion his landing, Phelan prepared himself for whatever strategy Dean decided to employ in counterattack.

The Elemental smacked into the upper deck on his right side, but Phelan thought it probably made Dean mad more than it hurt. The Elemental grabbed on to a ribbed girder with a vise-grip, then snarled at his foe. "That is the sole attack you will launch on me."