Phelan snapped his medallion between thumb and forefinger, then held it out to Conal. The Loremaster accepted it and placed it in a slot within the gravity funnel. He did the same with Vlad's coin. "When one coin has successfully stalked the other and they complete their transit through this cone, the hunting coin will be superior. That Warrior will be given 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. Let the coins choose among' equals."

"Seyla," Vlad and Phelan intoned as one.

Conal pressed the release button and the gold coins started their spiral downward. Phelan watched his coin like an eagle. He felt fairly certain, before sight of them slipped below the lip of the funnel, that his coin was lagging behind. Yes, I will win the decision!

Phelan had considered over and over what his choice would be if he won. He knew Vlad would choose to fight augmented because that gave him the best chance of killing Phelan. In their two previous 'Mech fights, Vlad had won the first by pitting an OmniMech against Phelan's Wolfhound.That granted Vlad a gross advantage in that fight, and Phelan admitted that, in the second, having Natasha Kerensky on his side had given him a gross advantage.

While content to fight in 'Mechs, and expecting it if Vlad won, Phelan wanted to fight his rival bare-handed. No good getting rid of a hate in an impersonal manner.Moreover Phelan knew a fist-fight would be less likely to result in death. Though he was willing to kill to win this Bloodname, he took no small pride in having killed only once during the whole contest.

Phelan's confidence spiked as the only clink of metal on metal he heard came when the coins landed in the clear cup at the bottom of the funnel tube. Conal slid the collection cup from the stand and held it in his left hand. Instead of plucking the top coin from the stack, Conal flipped the cup over and dumped both coins into his right palm. Vlad, meanwhile, doubled over with a hideous cough. Conal's thumb pushed the top coin up against his forefinger, while the coin that had lost the race remained hidden in his palm.

Phelan's jaw dropped open. He cheated. He flipped the coins to reverse the results!Outrage filled him, but as he started to protest, something deep down stopped him. Why protest? Fair or unfair, you can beat Vlad. You can beat all of them. They arejust of the Clans, but you are the best of two peoples.

"Vlad, you are the hunter."

Vlad casually reached up and unzipped his jumpsuit to reveal the cooling vest he wore beneath it. "Phelan Kell has claimed, since the first, to be a MechWarrior. Though he has shown some facility in this area, his greatest victories have come outside a 'Mech. Now I will give him the chance to prove his prowess against a realMechWarrior. I will hunt augmented."

Phelan wanted to laugh at Vlad's attempt to intimidate him. He aped Vlad's action and showed the cooling vest he had also worn beneath his jumpsuit. "Not desired, but not unanticipated or dreaded." He let his confidence bring a smile to his face.

Conal's brown eyes narrowed to hide his surprise. "Phelan, the style has been decided. Where will you be hunted?"

"The fields here are flat, so the terrain allows for no tricks, no illusions." Phelan looked toward the east. "Five minutes should be long enough for them to set up the cameras. Here, now."

"Here, now." Vlad smiled cruelly. "You are too weak to defeat me, Phelan. I have killed allmy foes in the Bloodright and I will kill you, too."

"Do the best you can, Vlad. I might not have killed any of the others on purpose, but in your case it is a job I will savor."

Conal raised his hands. "To your machines, then. Let the true Warrior win!"

Phelan turned on his heel and stalked away toward the south. As he walked into the crowd, he saw the twin doors at the far end of the hall opening. As they slid back slowly, shafts of sunlight shot into the show barn like laser bolts. Phelan squinted at first against the sun, but when the opening door revealed the silhouette of his Wolfhound,he grinned in delight.

Natasha appeared at his left shoulder and accepted his gunbelt. "You saw what happened?"

Phelan shrugged. "Does it matter? A fistfight, a 'Mech battle, it's all the same." He glanced back over his shoulder. "Vlad is mine. Cyrilla's name is mine."

The Black Widow smiled happily and slapped him on the back. "Spoken like the Wolf Cyrilla knew you would become."

"No, Natasha, not that." He turned and met her gaze. "Spoken like the Wolf that you and Cyrilla and Ulric wanted me to become. Tukayyid has shown the Clans that the warriors of the Inner Sphere can defeat them. Now it is up to me to show them that despite their exile, despite their training and their breeding programs, the Inner Sphere is not so far distant that one of us cannot become one of the best of them."

He paused at the foot of his Wolfhoundand stripped off his jumpsuit. He took the gunbelt back from Natasha and fastened it around his waist. He bent over to tie the holster to his right thigh, and when he straightened up, saw Ranna had replaced her grandmother by his side.

Ranna reached out and hugged him tighdy. "You are the best of the House of Ward. When you come back, we will celebrate your victory."

Phelan held her close and covered her mouth with his. He clung to her for what seemed like forever as their bodies pressed one to another, then broke off the embrace. "Ranna, I know you and Vlad were in the same sibko. I cannot promise you he will live through this fight."

"He knows the danger he faces." Ranna's head rose to a regal height and her blue eyes flashed. "You, Phelan Wolf, are the man I love. You will do what must be done. If he dies, I will mourn because of the loss to the Clan. If you die, I will mourn because of the loss to me. You are the rightful heir to Cyrilla Ward's name. Go, answer to your heritage and reap your legacy."

Phelan gave her one last kiss, then climbed up the Wolfhound'sleg, stepped onto the left arm, and up to the 'Mech's left shoulder. He slipped into the cockpit through the hatch on the BattleMech's neck, then brought down the bar to secure it and pressurize the cabin. He pushed up on a large switch above the hatch and felt the fusion engine rumble to life in the 'Mech's heart. All around him, buttons, displays, and monitors flickered to life, filling the cabin with muted color.

Take it easy, Phelan. By the numbers. Do it right.He twisted his gunbelt around and seated it correcdy. No matter how stupid or useless, make it like every other time.

Locking that switch into place, he turned and dropped to one knee at the cabinet behind the command couch. He opened it and pulled out four medical sensor patches. He peeled the backing from the adhesive, and stuck one each on his upper arms and thighs. He also pulled out the cables that went to them and clipped the rounded end to the sensor lead on the patches. He threaded the red cables up through the loops on his cooling vest so their plugs hung down at his throat.

Going around the far side of the cabinet, he squeezed past the command console and dropped into the command couch. He took the cable assembly from the pouch on the right hip of his cooling vest and plugged it into the command couch. Instantly the vest started circulating the coolant through the tubes trapped between the kevlar outer layer and the goretex inner layer next to his flesh. Goose bumps rose on his arms as the vest chilled him, but he knew combat would heat things up quickly enough.