The Marshal said nothing. He leaned back in his chair and studied Victor for a long moment.

Victor slammed his right fist on the table. "Dammit, Morgan, don't look at me that way! I'm well aware of the political implications of what we're doing here. I know this battleplan reads like some storybook warrior's grand plan to defeat enemy hordes and I can see in your eyes that it worries you. You think we put this together because we're a bunch of green warriors who think war is a game where we can win glory. It's not so."

Victor looked up at the ceiling and forced himself to breathe slowly so he could regain control of his anger. "More times than I can count, I reviewed the holovid transmissions sent to the Hejiraas it traveled to the rendezvous with the Strongbow.I know by heart the names of every man and woman in my old command, and I know who was still alive when I left, and who died. I've run millions of scenarios through my head to estimate who could have survived and for how long. That process, that torture, has purged from me any thoughts of glory in war."

Pressing his palms flat against the table, he leaned forward heavily. "Next April, I celebrate my twenty-first birthday. From that time on, I will be of age and eligible to rule the united Federated Commonwealth. My mother has guided the Lyran Commonwealth with strength and wisdom. My father is a military genius who engineered the conquest of the Capellan Confederation. I have one hell of a lot to live up to if I'm ever to lead and unite both of these nations. I have to earn the respect of my people, and I have to prove I'm capable of doing whatever is necessary to protect them."

Some of the vehemence drained from his voice, but none of the pain. "I believe you once told my father that, given a bucket of water, you'd storm the gates of hell for him. Well, I confess to wanting a bit more than that in the way of resources for my little battle. I've picked a world notorious for brutal weather and a treacherous terrain because most of the population lives underground and will be out of the way. I also imagine that the Jade Falcons will leave behind as few troops as possible because Twycross is really a station where troops should be sentencedto serve."

Andrew Redburn flipped open his copy of the plan. "Though the Diabolis storm will provide superior cover, the Ninth F-C isn't going to appreciate being asked to move with it."

"Nobody would," Victor agreed. "Running around in that giant sandstorm is not going to be fun or easy, but it will give us the edge we need. Besides, the Ninth has trained in storms just as fierce as the Diabolis." He hesitated for a moment, then continued, somewhat subdued. "They just aren't that big!"

Dan Allard leaned forward and rested his clasped hands on the table. "For the record, Highness, I have reviewed your plan with Chris here and Lieutenant-Colonels Brahe and Bradley. We've agreed to the plan. Furthermore, I have been assured by Janos Vandermeer that there does, indeed, exist a pirate point close to Twycross III. Because the fourth planet in that system is a hot gas giant, he also believes that we can recharge the JumpShips there at approximately half-efficiency. With ion engine assist, we could jump back out within a week."

"Twycross is also an important BattleMech production center, Marshal." Victor quickly controlled the smile on his face. "We can use its stores and facilities to help maintain our force."

"How long can you hold Twycross?" Morgan asked.

Victor sighed heavily. "I don't know. Obviously, that depends on how long it takes for the Jade Falcons to notice we took it, and what they send back to retake it. My forces can either defend it, pull out, or even jump further back toward the rim if we recover sufficient supplies in the assault. The net effect is that the Jade Falcons will have to pull line troops away from their invasion force to hunt us down. Suddenly, they'll have to play the same guessing games that we're playing."

Morgan steepled his fingertips in a gesture Victory had learned, after long years of associating with his cousin, to fear. Before Morgan could pronounce sentence on the plan, Victor made one last plea. "Morgan, remember what you told me back on Tharkad this time last year? You reminded me that my father held you back until the time was right. I understand your reservations and I respect them, but you weren't much older than I am now when you formed the Uhlans and did the impossible. My plan isn't impossible. It can succeed, and I am ready to make it do so. Trust me in this ... please. Give me this chance, or else take out a gun and shoot me, because my future rides on this plan."

Morgan looked down and closed his eyes as he rubbed the fingertips of his left hand against his forehead. Silence settled over the conference room. To Victor, it seemed that time slowed to a tortoise pace. Please, Morgan, you must let me go!

Morgan exhaled heavily, then opened his eyes. "Revise your plan to increase ammunition supplies to sufficiency for six weeks of pitched battles. Boost estimated personnel numbers to 120 percent of current and give them two months' worth of supplies to help cover refugees along the way. Append a plan for evacuating civilians offworld and add a list of tentative strike sites and routes heading back out toward the rim and toward the enemy flank. Also, we need a full listing of possible pirate points and recharge times for all available escape routes."

His gaze flicked up to meet Victor's blue eyes. "You will personally prepare papers to indemnify the Kell Hounds for their losses. Your rules of engagement will stress minimization of civilian involvement. I want triple redundancy on your warning system for the Ninth F-C so they don't blunder out of the Diabolis into a Jade Falcon ambush. Prepare and include a plan for the isolation of the ComStar facility in Daubton."

Victor blinked at Morgan. "It's a go! You're giving me this assault?"

The Marshal nodded once. "Your plan's not flawless, but the gain outweighs the risk. Of the plans I've to consider, it's the best."

Victor looked down at Kai, flashing him a smile, then returned his attention to Morgan. "I can't thank you enough ..."

Morgan held up his right hand. "Don't thank me. Even though Colonel Allard will be the force commander, I'm making you responsible for the lives of every man, woman, and child on Twycross. That is an awesome burden, but it's only a taste of what you'll assume when you take the throne. Twenty years from now, after the assault has been forgotten by all but a few historians, then decide if you want to thank me or not."

Victor Steiner-Davion narrowed his eyes. Truly spoken, cousin. "In twenty years then, Morgan."

After the meeting was dismissed, Victor caught up with Kai in the hallway outside. "Well, we did it. We're on for Twycross." Kai's subdued nod started alarm bells ringing in Victor's head. "What's wrong? Don't tell me you've got butterflies now, after it's all over."

Kai shook his head. "No, it's not that. When they had me do some resource-checking, I saw that my 'Mech hasn't arrived yet, and won't in time for it to catch up with us." He looked over at Victor. "Due to some bureaucratic snafu, I'm Dispossessed !"

That word stabbed through Victor like a knife. Dispossessed! Is there a fate worse than being a MechWarrior without a 'Mech?He shuddered.

"I can transfer command of my lance to Leutnant Abel von Rhemmer," Kai went on. "He just joined the Tenth from the Nagelring. He ought to do okay."