The Precentor Martial reacted visibly to that suggestion. "Evacuate the world?"

"Of course. That is the only way to truly minimize the possible civilian casualties, is it not? We want to present the correct image in arranging this battle."

"I doubt very sincerely the Clans will care one way or another what we do with the civilians, Primus."

Who cares about the Clans?Myndo folded her arms into the sleeves of her robe. "Anastasius, I am concerned about how the public views our action. By evacuating the world, we will show ourselves more concerned with the people than any government."

Focht adjusted the black patch over his right eye. "And the government of Rasalhague has agreed to this?"

"They will if they wish their ragged intelligence network to continue to function." Myndo scowled as the Precentor Martial frowned. Yes, Focht, it is politics dictating to the military what will happen. That is the way it has always been, and will always be."Precentor Martial, do not think ill of me. You know it is best to evacuate those people, and I will do what I must to care for them."

"I thank you for this unexpected boon. This means I no longer have to commit troops to protect civilian targets." Focht brought his head up. "And my troop requests?"

Myndo opened her arms. "Aside from small infantry garrisons on the worlds we are administering for the Clans, the Com Guards are yours. Before you protest, let me say that we need troops to protect our facilities after you defeat the Clans. I am just being cautious."

The Precentor Martial nodded slowly and turned away. "Concerning the BattleMechs stored here beneath Hilton Head. They will be made available to us?"

"Of course." The Primus moved away from the window and descended to the floor of the chamber. "How can you wonder if I would deny you anything in this battle to save Terra? The Clans are poised like a dagger over our heart and you are the only person who can prevent them from killing ComStar."

Focht turned to face her again. "Forgive me, Primus, but I have witnessed enough debates in the First Circuit to know that you are quite capable of manipulating individuals, myself included. You will forgive me for speaking frankly, but I would have expected more opposition to my plans."

Myndo forced herself to laugh lightly. "Anastasius, you have not fooled me. I know your demands for supplies and troops were padded because you expected me to slice away at them. And I intended to do just that, but as I studied your plans, I saw how important it was to support you fully. If you planned to defend us with only a portion of the things you requested, I could empower your plans more fully by giving you all you requested.

"Make no mistake about it, Precentor Martial, I understand very, very well the historical nature of the battle you are going to undertake. You will have nearly fifty regiments of BattleMechs. You will have armor and artillery and aerospace and infantry at your disposal. You will have under your command the largest armed force ever gathered since General Aleksandr Kerensky left with the Star League army."

The Precentor Martial watched her intently while she managed to keep her expression innocent. Her dark eyes met his stare but without challenge. "I hear what you are saying, Primus, but I find myself unable to fully believe it."

Myndo concealed her irritation with a soft, gentle voice. "But you can trust me, Precentor. We have the same goal. If I betray you, we both die."

The tall man nodded. "I am reminded of a story in which a scorpion and a blind dog have to cross a stream. The scorpion says, 'Let me climb on your back. I will direct you across the stream.' The blind dog tells the scorpion that he cannot trust him because the scorpion can sting him to death. The scorpion counters that if he stings the dog in midstream, they both will die. The dog agrees, but when they are in the middle of the stream, the scorpion does sting the dog. As they slowly sink, the dog asks, 'Why did you sting me? Now we will both die.' The scorpion replies, 'I stung you because I am a scorpion. It is my nature.' "

"I am not a scorpion, Anastasius."

"But you are a politician!" Focht touched his eye patch. "Politics has forever been my bane. It cost me my eye, my command, and my old life. Even my being here, being your Precentor Martial, was because taking me into your service consummated an alliance between you and Theodore Kurita."

This is not an argument I wish to pursue."Your points are well taken, Anastasius, but even I know when politics must be subsumed by reality. No speech ever stopped a particle beam. No secret deal ever defeated a 'Mech regiment, and no political deals will ever slow the Clans. Even I can see that."

"Can you? Do you really have a grasp on what it means for us to be forthright and honest in dealing with the Clans?" The Precentor Martial reached out to grab her arms, but stopped short. "The battle for Tukayyid is not to be taken lightly."

This time Myndo did not hide her anger. "You have reminded me of this at every turn, Precentor Martial. You have made your case well. Why do you doubt that I have finally seen the wisdom of what you have been suggesting all along?"

Focht started to reply, then closed his mouth and bowed his head. "Forgive me, Primus. As I am a half-blind dog, perhaps I see scorpions everywhere."

Myndo nodded sagely and brushed her left hand down his right arm. "You are my Precentor Martial because you look for scorpions. I would not want the leader of armies to be ignorant of political realities, but I do not want him consumed by them either. You are ComStar's hope and our future is in your hands."

"Your faith in the Com Guards is well founded, Primus. I take it I am given leave to find ilKhan Ulric and bargain for the battle of Tukayyid?"

"Go with the blessing of Blake."

"His Word will be done."

Myndo suppressed her smile until the door slid shut behind Focht's back. "Go, Precentor Martial. Focus their intent upon you. Win or lose on Tukayyid, while you prepare for battle, I will ensure the ultimate victory of ComStar over the Clans."

15

Fort Ian Training Center , Port Moseby

Virginia Shire, Federated Commonwealth

28 February 3052

Victor Davion looked up as a blond man flipped a holodisk onto his desk. "New test results, Galen?"

Galen Cox, Victor's aide, nodded. "We've screened all the people who came in on the last DropShip. Granted that simulators are not 'Mechs, but most of these folks are pretty damned good. Only one or two seemed to go nuts with the added power the refitted 'Mechs provided. Most played it conservative and were always running well low on heat. Out of the fifty we tested, only eleven pushed the 'Mechs to their logical maximum."

Victor leaned back in his chair and pressed his hands together, fingertip to fingertip. "Any standouts?"

Galen shrugged nonchalandy. "A few. There is one guy you're going to want to talk with. He was at the Nagelnng with you."

"Who?"

"Renny Sanderlin."

The way Galen said the name told Victor the news was not the best it could possibly be. "Renny was my roommate. What's wrong?"

Galen dropped into a chair and leaned forward. Only his eyes were visible over a stack of reports on Victor's desk. "He was marginal, Victor. Because of his rank, I gave him a lance to command. He played,every thing by the book—but the book is four years old. He and his people survived, but he was very cautious. His file says that he was' treated for combat fatigue after his first engagement with the Clans. His tentativeness is probably because of that."