"Not bad. Are you one hundred percent operational?"

"Almost." Phelan punched a button on the left side of the command console. Instantly, a targeting display materialized about halfway between him and the rectangular viewport to the outside. Totally computer-generated, it provided a 360-degree view of his surroundings in a 160-degree arc. Gold lines broke the display into a triptych whose center portion displayed his firing arc. Two gold crosshairs floated within the display, responding to Phelan's movement of the joysticks.

Natasha's 'Mech led the way out of the BattleMech hangar and then south toward a targeting range. Her 'Mech looked akin to his Kit Fox,but the chassis was much larger and appeared to be heavier. Its arms ended in the weapon pods commonly found on a Marauder,lending the BattleMech that general look. In fact, Phelan would have classified it as a Maraudervariant, except for the LRM launcher pods mounted on each shoulder. That made it look more like a Catapult..

Something clicked in the back of Phelan's mind. "Natasha, that looks very much like the 'Mech type Vlad was piloting when he captured me."

"You've got good eyes. It's the very same. After repairs, of course."

Phelan gasped in surprise. "You dispossessed him?"

"Rank hath its privileges." Natasha's warm, throaty laughter filled his neurohelmet. "Vlad only had this Timber Wolffor the expeditionary force anyway. In the real fighting, he used another Omni that fit better with his Star's make-up."

She brought her 'Mech to a stop at the targeting range's firing line. Bringing the Kit Foxalongside her, Phelan studied the range. He immediately punched up double magnification on his vislight scan. "I mark targets out at 300 meters.

I know these weapons can do it because I saw Vlad take out some targets at this range and beyond."

"I've reviewed his battlerom, so I know what he did. I want you to shoot the nearest target. Use the medium lasers. You've still not seen everything an Omni has to offer."

Phelan dropped both crosshairs onto the ragged ferrocrete dolmen the computer marked at 305 meters. When the computer had a target lock, a gold dot pulsed in the center of the crosshairs. Flicking a glance at his control panel, Phelan saw the medium lasers were controlled by the joystick's trigger. He tightened his fingers down on them.

Used as he was to lasers that produced one sustained beam of coherent light, the Omni's weapons surprised him. Each medium laser spat out a series of micropulsed bolts that peppered the target with laser fire. Whereas normal lasers often slashed a trench through a target's armor as the target moved, this weapon chewed away at one spot, with the computer making small corrections in targeting to keep the bolts following one after the other.

"Sonovabitch! What the hell is this?"

Natasha laughed heartily. "Your medium lasers are Kolibri Pulse lasers. The problem with straight-beam lasers is that the material they vaporize helps diffuse the beam, lessening their damage. The pulses allow for vaporized material to disperse, increasing the ability to hit. The rapid cycling makes the weapon run hotter, but the higher damage potential is worth it."

"I'll say." Phelan smiled proudly. "Damn, it feels good to be back in a 'Mech. I wish Ranna could see me in this thing."

"She can."

Natasha's remark coincided with another Kit Foxmoving from behind a low hill approximately 450 meters to Phelan's right. It appeared just beyond the bar that marked the edge of his firing arc, and brought up an arm that ended in the muzzle of an autocannon. Phelan saw a flash, then felt his 'Mech rock with the impact of a volley. He fought to control it and kept the machine upright. Still, before he could bring his machine around, the other Kit Foxvanished.

"My God, she's using live ordnance! Is she crazy?"

All levity dropped from Natasha's voice. "No, she's just doing her job. I told you before. Simulators are for kids. Her shells are underpowered, just as are your lasers. That goes for the other two Foxeshunting you out there."

Phelan swallowed hard as the computer assessed the damage to his armor. "That stuff may be down-powered, but it still ripped up some armor. This is just a training exercise."

"You'll have to watch your step because you can get killed out here. That's the problem with simulator combat. Even if you screw up, you get another chance. But a real battle never offers that sort of mercy."

"But Natasha, that's crazy. Think about how many perfectly good MechWarriors you must lose in these live-fire exercises."

The tone of her reply was cold, but Phelan sensed that the anger was not directed against him. "Good, perhaps, but not perfect. And that's what we aim for. Son, sibkos start out with a hundred or more children, but by the time the majority reach your age, they're down to thirty or less. Some die and some just leave the sibko. I don't know if it's right, but that's the way it's done."

She continued on, a trace of anxiety seeming to edge her words. "The breeding programs keep producing better and better warriors, but sometimes I wonder if it makes that much difference. By the time you're ready to test out, I guess we'll both learn the answer to that question."

Phelan shook his head. 'The only answer we can accept is that, no, it cannot make that much difference."

"Maybe that's it, Phelan. What we'd have to prove is that someone who's been trained in a different system can match the Clans' best, and that one of the best from long ago is still damned good."

"I'll take one half of the assignment if you'll take the other."

"Bargained well and done." The fire returned to Natasha's voice. "And watch your contractions. You youngsters should really speak well, you know."

"I hear and obey." Phelan turned his 'Mech from the firing line. "You fighting in this exercise, or just along for the ride?"

"Today I am an observer."

"Then out of my way." Phelan wiped his perspiring hands on his cooling vest, then took hold of the joysticks again. "The odds are not quite to my liking, but I have never backed down from a fight. Let us see if your people are really as hot as they think."

* * *

Natasha watched the mechanical figures move across the quartet of screens without actually seeing anything. My God, they all move so flawlessly. Have the sibkos really come this far in the time I've been away?A slight chill ran over her and suddenly she began to feel her true age. The long decades of battles, death, and destruction descended upon her with all the weight of a DropShip.

"Natasha?"

Ulric's voice snapped her out of her dark thoughts. "My Khan." She blinked her eyes, then reached out and touched a button on the console, freezing the four images. Using another dial, she slowly brought the room's lights up, but not too bright. "I have been reviewing the battleroms for Phelan's first training run."

The Khan stroked his goatee. "And?"

"And I think the sibkos have done superior work turning out well-trained and disciplined MechWarriors."

"Indeed." Ulric gave her a small smile, as if to say he'd anticipated her answer. "How would you say Phelan Wolf stacks up against them?"

Natasha allowed herself a wry grin of her own. "He's rough around the edges, though I imagine that's more from inactivity than lack of skill or training. Our MechWarriors can outshoot him now, but that advantage won't last long once he gets used to the new weaponry. If Phelan had been in a 'Mech the equal of Vlad's, he'd never have been captured on The Rock. We both know that."