Natasha leaned forward over his desk. "It's impossible, Jaime. That'swhat I know. For the last twenty-five years, we've fought for every Great House in the Inner Sphere, and we've fought againstevery House, too. We know their strengths and weaknesses. We know it's hopeless ..."

Wolf stood abruptly and paced the length of the room. "It's not hopeless, Natasha. Some of them show promise. We have a place to start."

Her sharp laugh brought him up short. "Did you just miss the last two years, Jaime? Two years of a war that's left everything changed, including us! The Capellan Confederation has all but fallen to the Federated Suns. The Draconis Combine has been hit hard and lost dozens of worlds and crack units. The Lyran Commonwealth was almost split apart by the war, not to mention the death of Frederick Steiner and the loss of his Tenth Lyran Guards in the suicidal attack on Dromini VI. As for the Free Worlds League, ha! Their government is so bound by red tape that they couldn't even mount a defense against the Tikonov Free Republic's troops, and we both know that the province of Andurien is going to secede before year's end with no trouble at all. Hanse Davion may have planned this war well, and his Federated Suns come out the big winner, but he's razed his economy and his people are afraid of another ComStar Interdiction.

"In short, my friend, the Successor States have clubbed themselves senseless."

Wolf's eyes flashed at her badgering tone. "That's all well and good, Natasha, but haven't you left out some of the more important factors that concern us? The Successor States might be in sad shape, but not so all of the military. The Kell Hounds survived the war in good shape, as have the Eridani Light Horse and the Northwind Highlanders. I'll admit they're not enough to do everything, but it's a place to start."

Natasha seated herself on the edge of Wolf's desk, watching him pace. "You're not thinking of bringing them here to train, are you? You wouldn't compromise our security that way!" Suddenly she slapped the open palm of her right hand against her forehead. "You areplanning to do that, aren't you? That's why Morgan Kell and his wife Salome are already heading here from their JumpShip. Are you mad? How much does Kell know?"

Wolf drew himself up to his full height. "Morgan Kell knows what I have trusted him with—and trust him I do. He and Salome are coming here so we can run some tests and help them with an infertility problem."

The Black Widow's mouth gaped open. "You told them about ..."

The small man shook his head. "No, I've not told Morgan everything, though I imagine he has figured out what I didn't. The man is a friend and I've decided to help him. He is also a MechWarrior of great skill and courage. While I do not plan to bring his Kell Hounds here to train, I believe Morgan might be persuaded to prepare his forces to help us when the time comes. Furthermore, I think he would be willing to let us train certain of his people so that what we know can be passed on to others without jeopardizing our security."

A shudder passed through her body. "The next thing I expect to hear you say is that you're going to invite ComStar to set up a communications center here on Outreach."

That suggestion won a chuckle from Wolf. "Not a chance. ComStar may well control communications between stars in the Inner Sphere, but their benign pacifism died with Primus Julian Tiepolo. The new Primus, this Myndo Waterly, is aggressive and dangerous. She's already forced Davion to allow her to post BattleMechs in ComStar compounds as a condition for lifting the communications ban ComStar imposed over his Federated Suns. I'll not put us in that position."

Natasha smiled. "Ah, thank God you are sane after all." She sighed wearily. "Look at us. We've been fighting here for twenty-five years. We should be retiring, not worrying about preparing others for a war that may not come. That task should fall to the whelps up and coming."

Jaime laid a hand on Natasha's shoulder. "I agree with you, but we have a problem. The youngsters have been raised here in the Successor States of the Inner Sphere. We lost a good number of them fifteen years ago in the Free Worlds League, and then even more escaping from the Draconis Combine two years ago. The survivors weren't raised with the same traditions as we. They barely understand that we're different. And now we have outsiders among us. They, too, must be trained and inculcated with our ways. The only people who can do the training are those of us who have survived all these years."

The Black Widow shook her head ruefully. "You're right, of course. And they were right to put you and not me in charge of this fool's mission." She brought her head up and thrust her chin forward defiantly. "If they're going to come, I only hope they come soon, before I'm too old to pilot a 'Mech. They've got a lot to answer for, and I mean to make them pay."

Wolf stood back and folded his hands across his chest. "They're coming, all right, and it may be sooner than we think. As much as I understand your wish, I hope you don't get it." He looked her straight in the eye. "Because if we're still around and in fighting shape, you know the others won't have had time to prepare. And that means the Fourth Succession War that's just ended will seem like the overture to the end of Mankind."

BOOK I

Shadow of the Beast

1

Stortalar City , Gunzburg

Radstadt Province , Free Rasalhague Republic

19 May 3049

Feeling like a spy trapped light years behind enemy lines, Phelan Kell forced himself to walk nonchalantly into the smoky beerhaus. For the first time this evening, I wish I'd listened to Jack Tang when he forbade me to head out on this search. Someday I'll learn he's not giving orders just to hear himself talk.The young mercenary squinted to pierce the gloom, but made no effort to remove his mirrored sunglasses. I might have been stupid enough to wander off the reservation, but I'm not removing my disguise, especially not in here. C'mon, Tyra. Be here.

When someone touched his arm, Phelan swung around instantly and nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of the Gunzburg Eagles uniform. At that moment, he thought he would have to fight his way out of the Allt Ingar, but then he recognized the uniformed woman. Phelan's grimace changed to a smile, but died almost as quickly at the fury on her face.

"Are you crazy?" she hissed, her tone as wintry as the nightwinds howling in the streets of Stortalar City. She jerked Phelan away from the door and back into a darkened booth. "What the hell are you doing off the reservation?"

Phelan wedged his long, lean body into the shadowy corner. "Where is she, Anika? I have to talk with her."

"I don't know, and right now I don't care," Anika Janssen said wearily. "But you've got to get back to the reservation, Phelan. You're only asking for trouble being out here."

Phelan removed his glasses and hung them by an earpiece at the throat of the thick sweater he wore under the black parka. "I'm going to find her. If you think it means trouble for me to be found outside the mercenary's quarter, wait and see what happens if Idon't find Tyra tonight!"

Anika grabbed Phelan's balled right fist in both her hands. "Dammit, Phelan. Don't fight me on this. If you recall, I backed Tyra's play concerning you to the hilt. Don't act stupid and make me regret it." She snorted with exasperation. "I should have seen it wouldn't work ..."