"Three-quarters of an hour until they step free of the storm. We can't contact them until then. I don't like it, but we have to do this by ourselves."

Victor nodded grimly. "They can be our ace in the hole if the DropShips don't stop the Falcons at the Gash."

"Let's hope we don't need them," Dan said.

"Roger ... and Colonel, thanks for the chance."

A low chuckle echoed through Victor's neurohelmet. "Just don't get your butt shot off, Victor! The paperwork would kill me."

"Wilco, Colonel. Davion out." Victor switched to the

Lyran Guards' tactical frequency. "Alpha Battalion on me. Kommandants, bring Bravo and Charlie up to form our center and left flank respectively. Charlie, you'll be cheek to cheek with the Hounds' First Regiment. We hit, then give ground slowly to allow the Hounds to pull back to the west Give better than you get and we'll all survive this."

Standing fourteen meters tall and with an autocannon muzzle where its right forearm should have been, Davion's Victorstrode down from the hills and led the Tenth Lyran Guards into the mouth of hell. Sand curtains swirled like veils in some exotic dance, hiding some things and providing tantalizing glimpses of others. Wondering what dangers lurked within the boiling sandstorm, Victor barely heard the rasp of sand against his 'Mech's face.

The first Jade Falcon appeared on his right as if by magic. The Shadow Hawkhad already marched halfway past when its pilot noticed Victor and began to bring his 'Mech about. Victor raised the assault 'Mech's right arm and stabbed the autocannon muzzle toward the Shadow Hawk'ssquare faceplate. The muzzle flash erased the image of the 'Mech's head from Victor's sight, and the depleted-uranium shells blowing through it matched form to image. The decapitated Shadow Hawkdropped backward and vanished within the black folds of a sand curtain.

All around him, Victor witnessed brutal slices of the battle. A Lyran Quickdraw,its right arm dangling by the twisted cord of a myomer muscle, stumbled past him. Like a wild animal on a blood trail, the pursuing Falcon Riflemanclomped through the battlefield, its sensor wing whirling madly to collect whatever data it could. It stopped and turned its weapons on Victor, twin autocannon pumping shells into his 'Mech's chest.

The Victor'sbattlecomputer redrew its own outline on the auxiliary monitor, adding glowing yellow spots to represent the damage. Davion ignored it and dropped his targeting crosshairs onto the Rifleman'sblocky body. The autocannon's high-speed whine filled the cockpit as a stream of projectiles shredded the Falcon's right-shoulder armor. Sparks and flames shot out of the joint in blues and greens, and the arm ceased to move, frozen as it pointed straight ahead.

Victor stepped his war machine closer, putting it well inside the Rifleman'sability to bring guns to bear. He chopped the victor'sleft hand down on the Rifleman'sright shoulder. The blow crushed ferro-ceramic armor to dust. More sparks shot out as the shoulder ground downward, then the whole limb twisted away and fell to the ground.

The Riflemanpilot backed up bis machine half a step, then twisted to bring the left arm's guns to bear on Victor. As he did so, Galen Cox's Crusaderstepped through a wall of blowing sand, grabbed the guns in both of his 'Mech's hands, and cranked them up into the air. The Rifleman'sshots from both the large laser and autocannon passed well over Victor's head.

The Crusader'shands pushed and pulled in different directions. With a metallic scream audible even through the howling storm, the gun barrels twisted out of alignment. The Victorpointed its autocannon at the Rifleman'sright leg, and the Prince thumbed the trigger button. The autocannon shells peeled the armor off the Falcon 'Mech's knee, then blew through the titano-magnesium bones. The Riflemanlurched to the right, then fell on its side and rolled over onto its face.

Victor made his 'Mech throw Galen a salute, then turned and moved on in search of more prey. As the afternoon became evening, he continued to hunt successfully. As evening became night, his autocannon exhausted its ammunition and the battle left gaping rents in his armor until there was no one left to fight.

Galen glanced down at his noteputer. "As nearly as we can figure out, the Falcon commander knew something was up when their reinforcements did not come through the Gash. She issued the order to pull her people back so they could slip out of the Plain as evening came on. They did not expect to run into the Ninth F-C and so lost a few 'Mechs there. The Ninth is still pursuing the rest of them, but those damned 'Mechs run very cool, so they're stretching out the range on our people."

Victor nodded. "Yeah, there's no denying they run cool. I've already had a preliminary report on a heat sink taken from one of their machines. They have some sort of doublechambered heat exchanger and a fluid with a thermal retention factor that's seven-tenths of air itself! The Techs think those units, which are about the size of our own heat sinks, probably are 150 to 200 percent more efficient than ours."

"Hard to believe we beat them after seeing what they had going for them," Galen agreed. "The prisoners seem rather shocked at the defeat, too, but they've adapted. Mostly they want to know the name of our Clan so they know to whom they owe their allegiance." Cox laughed lightly. "The guards couldn't decide if we were the Clan Davion or Steiner, so they settled on Victor."

Victor sighed heavily. "Just remind everyone to treat them kindly. We don't know when the tables will be turned. Hey, do you think that's them?"

The walls of Victor's tent began vibrating back and forth as the sound of a helicopter whooped through them. Davion shot to his feet, dumping his wood and canvas campaign chair over on its back. Galen's own grin mirrored the smile spreading over Victor's face. Outside, a general cheer and applause rose up, then the tent flap opened.

Kai Allard, his face beet-red, stepped stiffly in, then held open the flap for Deirdre Lear. After she entered the tent, he let it fall shut again and pivoted awkwardly on bandage-swathed legs. He snapped to attention and saluted Victor. Davion returned the salute, then embraced his friend in a back-slapping hug. "You don't know how happy I was when the search and rescue team reported finding you." I really thought I'd sent you out to die, my friend.

Victor took a step back and offered Deirdre his hand. "I'm glad you were with him, Doctor, to take care of his wounds."

"I was pleased to be of service, but if I can avoid accompanying a 'Mech into battle again, I will."

Though puzzled by her vehemence, Victor knew this was not the time or place to probe it further. "Please, be seated." He waved his two guests to chairs. "Kai, when I sent you over to the Gash, I only expected you to report, not win the war all by yourself."

Deirdre slipped into a chair, but Kai remained standing. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

Something in Kai's voice and eyes hit Victor as all wrong. He's sounding like he did back at NAMA. What the hell is going on here?"Kai, we've been friends for too long for you to be calling me sir, and I recognize that tone in your voice. What is it?"

Kai swallowed hard. "I've given this a lot of thought, Victor. I'm resigning my commission, effective immediately."

Victor looked over at Galen and then at Deirdre, whose faces reflected his own look of shock. "What are you talking about? You just single-handedly saved our expeditionary force. You're going to have to hire someone to follow you around wearing an extra jacket to display all the medals you'll get out of this. Hell, there aren't enough honors in the Inner Sphere to reward what you've done."