As Alex added animation to the troop movements, a gross area of weakness appeared in the Combine's border defenses. The Prince stared at it like a chessmaster studying a board. If Theodore completes his troop movements, he leaves the Combine's belly open for a strike that could cripple it. Caught between the invaders and our forces, the Combine would be crushed once and for all.

He looked up. "How did we get this information?"

Justin pressed his palms flat to the table and leaned forward. "Half of it came through agents we have on the various bases that are giving up troops. They did not know what to look for until we gave them very specific orders, however. We were seeking confirmation of intelligence obtained by an agent on Luthien. We believe that agent has blown his cover, but the Gunji no Kanrei has not seen fit to eliminate him yet."

Hanse leaned back and steepled his fingers. "Then you think Theodore Kurita may have leaked us this information about his own weakness?"

Justin hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, Highness, I do." He took everyone in with his glance. "He would never admit weakness, but his letting us see his intended troop movements could imply that he believes the invaders are a greater threat to the Successor States than we are to each other."

Hanse took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This would be a perfect opportunity to destroy the Combine—and more than one of my Field Marshals will encourage me to do it. But, if Justin's right about Theodore's intentions, I shared the Kanrei's view of the invasion. What good is defeating an enemy if I cannot build upon that victory? It would be foolish.

Hanse turned to his wife. "What do you think?"

"It strikes me, beloved, that Theodore must be as concerned about his son's fate as we were for ours until we heard that Victor had been evacuated. You know that Kurita will prosecute a war with the invaders as well as anyone in the Successor States. If we were to attack him, he would be forced to divide his effort, and that would spell disaster for his war against these strangers. One look at the map makes it clear that once the invaders have broken the Combine, the Federated Suns is next. If troops we now have assigned to the Combine border could be shifted rimward, they could be used to hold back the invasion into the Commonwealth."

"As always, your analysis is most valued and most accurate," Hanse said with a smile, then turned to Justin. "Do you concur? Do we move our troops from the Isle of Skye out to face the invaders?"

Justin nodded. "Our JumpShip assets are in position to move quickly. We can deliver troops to the rim more quickly than the Combine can. I've already sent orders for mercenary units under contract to head toward the rim. If we're lucky, they can form a firebreak to slow the invaders."

"What about the Eridani Light Horse?" Hanse asked. "Are they willing to move before the ink is dry on the new contract?"

"Yes, sire. I had confirmation of compliance with the orders from them earlier today." Justin half-closed his eyes. "I also had a request from my brother Daniel to move the Kell Hounds toward the rim. I don't know where Dan, got the information, but there seems to be no question that the invaders were responsible for Phelan Kell's death out in the Periphery. I gave him permission to move both regiments to Sudeten, as I thought that would be a good rendezvous world for whatever forces we're going to send north."

The Prince smiled appreciatively. "Excellent thinking. Any word from Jaime Wolf?"

"No reply to the message I sent two weeks ago. I do know, however, that Epsilon and Zeta Regiments have been withdrawn from their duty posts in Andurien, and Thomas Marik is rather upset that he was not warned about it. They appear bound for Outreach."

"I see." The Prince sat forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Wolf's calling his people home for some kind of meeting, I suspect. When they make a decision, we'll hear about it." Hanse paused as he studied the map. "Issue orders for the first Kathil Uhlans and all the Deneb, Arcturan Guard, Lyran Guard, Royal Guard, and F-C Regiments from Skye March to depart for Sudeten. Let Morgan know he's in charge of this Army group and route Victor to Sudeten. We'll move troops from the Crucis March up to reinforce the Terran corridor and Skye."

The Prince caught himself as his wife's silence and the flash of pain in Justin's eyes finally registered on his brain. "Forgive me, Justin, for asking you to issue that order. I know your son is in the Tenth Lyran Guards."

The Secretary raised his head proudly. "I am certain he will serve you well, my Prince."

"Of that I have no doubt, Justin Allard." The Prince's eyes narrowed. "But I recall a time twenty-three years ago when I told your father to order another man to kill you. Both he and I knew that issuing such an order was the only way to keep you alive while you were under cover, but I know how difficult it was for your father. I never imagined I'd have to put anyone else through that again."

Melissa looked up at him. "Then why do you put yourself through it?"

Hanse took her hands in his. "I can order Victor to meet with Morgan on Sudeten with a clear heart. You and I know that he would never accept being left out of the planning. He would be there—with or without orders, so forbidding him to join the fight would be no good. I think it is better to let him knowwe have confidence in him than to have him imagine we do not."

21

Jump Ship Dire Wolf , L-5 Orbit

New Bergen, Rasalhague Province, Free Rasalhague Republic

3 May 3050

Phelan Kell jabbed Griffin Picon in the side with his elbow. "Don't watch me, Griff. Watch the stravagdoor!"

The shorter, broadly built blond man grunted with the blow and turned his attention to the closed portal to the bondsmen's dormitory. "You're learning to curse in the Clanner's tongue quickly enough, Kell. Come a time we won't be able to tell you from them. How much longer will it be?"

"Not long, and if you'd been cursed as a malingerer as much as me, you'd quickly pick up the words, too!"

Griff laughed. "Yeah, that Vlad really has it in for you, doesn't he?"

"Quineg, Griff. You're supposed to end a question like that with 'quineg' if you want to speak like a Clanner."

"And you are not to use contractions, Phelan," the pirate reminded him. "And, all quinegs aside, that Vlad's hatred for you goes bone-deep."

"All because I ruined the paint job on his 'Mech." Phelan snapped a chip down into the circuit board, then fitted it inside a gray petrochem box just slightly larger than a pack of cards. He slid the cover from beneath the corded loop on his wrist and settled it in place with a click, then palmed the device. "There. Got it."

Griff glanced back over his shoulder at the mercenary. "You sure that thing will work?" After a moment's hesitation, he added, "Quiaff?"

Phelan crossed to his bunk and slipped the slender box inside his mattress. "Aff. I fixed up two of their audiosensitive locks on a work detail last week. Their Tech was so impressed with my skill—" Phelan rolled his eyes to heaven— "that he even showed me how to burn eproms down in the workshop."

The former Periphery pirate made no attempt to hide his confusion. "Eproms?"