Shin shook his head. "No, Coordinator, not at all. He was afraid to trust anyone else with what must be done here."

Takashi's exasperation sliced through his words. "How can you continue to tell me my son trusts me when I know he does not?"

"I say this, Takashi Kurita, because it is the truth." Shin felt the packet of orders pressed against his flesh. "I say this because he told me your granddaughter refused to evacuate Imperial City. You and your men are all that stand between Omi and the Clans, and your son wants you here to stop them."

43

Satatice

Free Rasalhague Republic

5 January 3051

"I copy that, Firebird One. You have no visual on the Ostsol."Phelan Wolf cursed under his breath. "Make another sweep. It has to be around here somewhere."

"Roger, Dire Alpha." Carew did not sound too hopeful.

"Dire Alpha to Dire Star. Anything?" Phelan glanced at his auxiliary monitor and its map of the local area. The computer updated him with the locations of the rest of his command, with Dire Gamma limping along in the rear. The terrain, as broken and uneven as one might expect from a lava plain, was glossy with a treacherous layer of ice. Live steam vents pulsed out mist like ethereal whales surfacing from the rock to spout. The mist instantly crystallized in the cold air, and Phelan had to keep his Wolfhoundrunning hot just to keep the ice from blinding his sensors.

All reports came back negative, but Phelan had the distinct feeling that the others in his Star were deliberately holding back. Though Natasha had harangued her Wolf Spiders into working cooperatively, the others in Dire Star were veterans who refrained from interfering in what they saw as Phelan's rightful kill. The Ostsolhad attacked him first, which meant, under the old ways, that the target was his.

The others were willing to course it, but they'd not take it down until Phelan had died trying.

Phelan shook his head in disgust. He knew why they deferred to him, but he would have preferred a team effort. Because he was their Star Commander, was younger than any of them, and because he had singlehandedly taken Gunzburg, they offered him yet another chance at honor. Well, change is bound to come slowly. The Star League wasn't built in a day.'

The secondary monitor gave Phelan an inventory of the damage he'd taken. Most of the armor had been blown off the Wolfhound'sright arm, but the extended-range large laser was undamaged. Grinnerhad lost a little armor from his chest and right leg, too, but other than that, the BattleMech was running at the top of form. The Ostsolmight outmass his Wolfhoundby twenty-five tons, but the two were closely matched in sheer firepower.

The humanoid Ostsolhad toothpick-thin arms, one of which had been burned clean off by a snap shot with the large laser. That did little to hurt it because the 'Mech carried all its weapons in the torso. The pilot had recovered quickly and escaped, but not before Phelan savaged the armor on its chest. From what he could tell, though, both large lasers and the twin forward-pointing medium lasers were still operational. The Ostsolalso boasted two rear-arc medium lasers in its barrel-shaped torso, but Phelan had not followed closely enough to give the pilot a chance to use them.

Phelan took another look at the map and switched his visual display over to infrared. The landscape instantly took on a cool blue tint. Steam jets shot tendrils of yellow fire into the air, and heat rose in red curls from the Wolfhound'sheat sinks. The jumble of colors, with streaks of red and gold marking ground warmth, was not so confusing that a 'Mech couldn't be spotted by the heat it generated, but the steam vents made sorting viable targets from spurious ones annoyingly difficult.

Still marching the Wolfhoundforward, Phelan slowly worked toward a canyon that closely resembled a jagged scar ripped through the planet's crust by a dull knife. The legion of side canyons were large enough to hide a 'Mech or two. The cold wind twisting down through it could easily mix the hot air generated by a 'Mech with fresher air, hiding all traces of an ambush. As smart as the other 'Mech pilot had already proved himself, Phelan had no doubt that his enemy was, indeed, waiting therein.

"Firebird One to Dire Alpha."

"Go ahead, Firebird."

"Negative for heat. Magres is useless because of the ferrous content of the ground. Sorry."

"Roger, Firebird. Give me CAP if you can. Dire Star, I am going into the canyon. Beta and Delta, cut off the north end, if you please. Gamma, maintain your position. Epsilon, back me.

Phelan wiped a sweaty palm against the outside of his cooling vest. He started to work his way down into the canyon, but hesitated before he reached the floor. He hated the idea of offering the Ostsolthe first shot, especially when all the enemy had to do was wait for a thermal signature to target and kill. There has to be a way to decoy him, give him bait.

A chunk of stone gave way beneath the Wolfhound'sleft foot, but Phelan successfully kept the 'Mech on its feet by reaching out with its left hand to steady the 'Mech against the canyon wall. As he watched the stone rolling down to the canyon floor, it gave him an idea. Stooping the 'Mech, he picked up a hunk of volcanic stone. Holding it carefully by the thumb and forefinger of his 'Mech's left hand, he trained all three pulse lasers on it, dialed their power down for a three-second burst and triggered them.

The trio of beams filled the rock with fire. It glowed white hot on Phelan's holographic infrared display. He pulled the Wolfhound'sleft arm back, then brought it forward in an easy underhand motion. Lofted forward, the rock bounded down through the canyon. It caromed around like a bowling ball in a surreal alley, then popped up and hung seven meters above the floor about halfway down the canyon.

Four laser beams flashed out at the rock. The two large lasers struck it full-on and smashed it back against the far canyon wall. The two medium lasers passed below it, but had it been the Wolfhound,they would have slashed through the armor on its belly. The rock, performing as would the Wolfhoundhad it caught that fire, dropped to the canyon floor.

The Ostsolstepped from the break where it had hidden, then halted only two steps clear of cover. Phelan, realizing the pilot had switched over to visual and discovered his mistake, brought the large laser up and punched the firing button on the right joystick. The hurried shot hit the Ostol'sback leg, vaporizing armor from mid-thigh down to the ankle.

The Ostsol'spilot pivoted his 'Mech to the left, bringing all its weaponry to bear on the Wolfhound.One large laser and one medium laser combined to make the armor on the Wolfhound'sright leg run like water. The air refroze much of it, and warning lights on Phelan's control console told him the knee and ankle had been fused. The other medium laser sliced armor from the right side of the Wolfhound'schest. The remaining large laser did the most damage as it cored through the armor on the Wolfhound'scenter chest. A wave of heat passed up through the cockpit, informing Phelan that part of the fusion engine's shielding had been damaged.

Phelan concentrated, despite feeling broiled alive in his cockpit. He dropped both crosshairs onto the Ostsol'sconical outline and triggered every weapon he had available. The large laser again blasted the Ostsol'sright leg. The spear of coherent light sheared away the last of the armor and boiled off the myomer muscles controlling the leg's movement. The 'Mech buckled instantly, and flailing impotently against the air, the Ostsolcrashed to the ground. The trio of pulse lasers picked armor off other parts of the Rasalhagian 'Mech, but as the machine settied onto its chest, Phelan knew its fighting days were permanently over.