I fear my time as Primus has not allowed me to age as well as you.A soul-sucking weariness seemed to fill her bones with lead and make her feel as though each breath were drawn from a vacuum. Your calm is your power. Is this something the years in that Combine monastery granted you, or did you pick it up during your training in the ways of ComStar?

Myndo forced herself to smile as she slipped her right hand into her left sleeve. "Before we begin, I wish to congratulate you."

The Precentor Martial looked confused. "Congratulate me?"

'Today you are 78 years old. That is quite an achievement, Anastasius Focht."

Focht folded his arms across his chest as though warding off a chill. "I suppose it is. My birthday, that is. That is so much a part of my old life, though, that I hardly consider it. Really, I mark my life as starting with my conversion." A smile caught at the corners of his mouth. "That makes me less than a quarter of my chronological age."

Hiding her envy behind a mask of friendly pleasure, the Primus said, "Then you are truly blessed with the Peace of Blake."

The Precentor Martial acknowledged her kind words with a courteous bow, but his grin faded. "I came as soon as my staff and I had completed our preliminary study of the material you sent. The suborbital plane had to change its reentry vector to get around some bad weather in the gulf or I would have been here sooner."

"Did you find the material as disturbing as I did?"

"Yes, Primus. Perhaps even more so. I found the reports of fighting in the Periphery curious."

Myndo arched a brow. "Obviously. If I had not found the messages entrusted to our center at Verthandi unusual, I would not have sent copies down to you and then summoned you away from the training exercises in Azania. My concern was due to the Kell Hounds spending so much of their own money to transmit a message to their home base."

Focht opened his hands. "Battling in the Periphery, especially in the area of the Oberon Confederation, is not at all remarkable. The warring bands of pirates out there generally let people know when they've stomped on a rival or sent a mercenary unit home with a bloodied nose. Granted, their reports seldom check out in terms of casualties or 'Mechs lost for either side, but the outcome of the battle is seldom in error because the losers cannot afford to advertise their weakness."

The Precentor Martial began to pace, his white robe gathering and clutching at his long legs as he moved back and forth. "In this case, we've not heard from Kenny Ryan, which means he did not win this contest with the Kell Hounds. Nothing short of his death would prevent him from bragging about a victory. The Kell Hounds themselves have acknowledged defeat, but deny it came at the hands of Ryan's band. That rings true, despite the fact that the Hounds only sent out a company to chase the pirates. Even without Morgan Kell, his nephew Christian, Dan Allard, or Akira Brahe leading them, the Hounds would have been more than a match for that lot of bandits."

Myndo found herself becoming irritated. "Your analysis eliminates some of the more obvious answers to the mystery, Precentor. Could it be that Captain Wilson lied in her report to cover Phelan Kell's death? Certainly, the death of his son would make Morgan Kell very angry."

Focht's left eye narrowed as if summoning up an ancient memory. "That is true, and an angry Morgan Kell is not someone I would want to deal with, no matter what the circumstances. I would accept your explanation had the battlerecorder data not been appended to the message they asked us to send."

Myndo shook her head, then hooked a lock of hair back behind her left ear. "Not being a Mech Warrior, perhaps I don't understand the significance you attach to that information."

Focht smiled indulgently. "Aside from the data being unique, the fact that it was broadcast is remarkable. Each 'Mech has a battle recorder that keeps track of everything from sensor inputs to a complete diagnostics record for the 'Mech. After a battle, providing the recorder remains intact, the action may be reviewed. When plugged into a simulator, for example, pilots can see exactly what happened in the battle, including all their monitors and instruments."

The Precentor Martial pressed his hands together. "Kell's broadcast was a desperate move, because sending the data out on such a widebeam meant his enemies as well as his friends could get it. Granted the transmission quality was bad, but that is more due to the electromagnetic properties of Sisyphus's Lament than any problem with the equipment at that point."

Something dreadful tugged at the corners of her consciousness, but the Primus could not identify it. "So, Morgan Kell's whelp does not have his father's nerves of steel and panicked ..."

Focht raised a hand to stop her. "Phelan may not be his fattier, but that battle tape shows no lack of nerve. He identified the forces he faced as unusual in the extreme, and realized he would not escape that encounter. His broadcast was a message from the dead—a warning to those who survived."

The Precentor Martial clapped his hands once. "Computer, project the holographic reconstruction of the primary BattleMech from the Kell tape, clarified and at one-tenth scale."

In silent compliance, the computer materialized a holographic image of the Catapult/Marauderbastard that had broken the Locustand destroyed Phelan Kell's Wolfhound.Even at only a meter in height, the machine's image retained all its menace. It feels so malevolent.A shiver ran down Myndo's spine and she fought to keep revulsion from her face.

The Precentor Martial, however, was not looking in her direction. He slowly circled the projection like a wolf stalking prey, his gaze flicking from point to point seeking out flaws in the design. When he found none, a smile crept onto his lips and he nodded with admiration and respect.

"Primus, I have taken to calling this model the Mad Cat. As with the Catapult'Mech, the machine boasts two longrange missile pods, one on each side of the forward-thrust torso. It walks on bird's legs, which gives it a hopping-bobbing gait, though this pilot seems to have been able to conquer that tendency. Quite an achievement, with the low gravity on the asteroid. In addition to the standard Catapultfeatures, two Marauder-type weapons pods have been added. They have large lasers over medium lasers. Two more medium lasers, one on each side of the torso and two machine guns mounted in the center torso, round out the weapons selection. Yes, a most impressive machine."

Indeed. With an army of such 'Mechs, we could make Blake's dream of a united humanity a reality in short order.Myndo stared through the image at Focht. "I shall order our armorers to modify our existing Catapultsto this configuration."

Anger creased the Precentor Martial's brow for an instant, then disappeared as if banished by the force of his will. "I am afraid that is not possible, Primus. As you saw in the battletape, Phelan Kell attacked the machine but failed to damage it. Were we to create a 'Mech with such an array of weapons, we would be unable to armor it sufficiently. On the other hand, if we gave it the armor it needed, the 'Mech would be unable to move because of the current power-to-weight ratios available in our fusion engines. In short, either this 'Mech has incredibly light but durable armor, or it has a power plant of a design surpassing anything we have to offer."

Myndo's mouth went sour. New technology in the hands of someone other than ComStar!"That's terrible!"