The desperate maneuver had ruined the Dragon'sImperator-A autocannon. No matter. There was no more ammunition for it.

The Dragoons abandoned their physical attacks and returned to showering the Dragonwith energy beams and short-range missiles. With only one 5cm laser left in its offensive armament, the wounded Dragonstaggered forward to bring the fight to his tormentors. Close combat would be the most effective way for him to continue the fight now.

The Griffin announced its return to the battle with fire from its PPC. Electrostatic discharge ionized the air around the Dragon'scrippled leg as blue lightning tore through the weakened armor. Frayed myomer pseudomuscles ripped loose from the structural system, no longer able to bear the 'Mech's weight. The leg failed. The Dragonswayed on his good leg for a moment, listed to the left, then crashed down.

Minobu hung dazed in the restraining straps. Shaken loose from mushin ,he was once again a man piloting a machine.

Sensor warnings pinged at the approach of the Dragoon 'Mechs. He focused his kito block the pain that shot through his body. Detached, he watched the Dragon'sleft arm rise. A ruby pulse lanced out to strike one of the advancing Dragoons.

The Dragoons responded with concentrated laser bombardment.

More failure lights flashed red, telling of the accelerating weakness of the Dragon.The weapon board beeped malfunction in the laser. One by one, the tights went out as the Dragondied around him. Finally, the sensors failed, isolating Minobu in the smoky murk of the cockpit lit only by the fitful flickering of electrical fires.

The Dragonshuddered from some outside impact, throwing Minobu violently about. His head struck the side wall of the cockpit. Even through the neurohelmet, the shock doubled his vision. Blood trickled down across the bridge of his nose and over his upper lip until he could taste its sharp tang. Through the ozone-laden air, he thought he detected the scent of cherry blossoms. Before he could puzzle out that mystery, darkness claimed him.

55

Dragoon Base, Farsund, Misery

Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine

26 May 3028

“Seppuku?”Wolf repeated incredulously.

Minobu looked up with weary eyes at the man who stood over his bed. “I have no other choice, I have failed my lord.”

“Failed? You've crippled our fighting force. It'll be months before the Dragoons are ready for a major operation. Far too many of our best pilots—men and women who have been with me since we came to the Inner Sphere—are buried out there in the snow. If you call that failure ...”

Minobu turned his gaze to the ceiling. In his peripheral vision, he could see Michi Noketsuna seated at the foot of the bed, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Minobu could tell that the discomfort came not from Michi's bandaged head or the arm that hung across his chest in a sling. It was not even the raw red skin, a legacy of his exposure to the harshness of Misery after his 'Mech was destroyed. Like Minobu, he was distressed at Wolf's words. Partial success was no balm to a samurai. The warrior who did not accomplish the task set for him had failed in his duty. It was nothing more or less than that.

“I'm not going to go away because you ignore me,” Wolf said when Minobu did not respond. “Your lord can't hold you responsible for failing.”

“Can he not?”

“It wasn't your fault,” Wolf insisted. “You played by the rules and were beaten. There's no dishonor in that.”

Minobu continued to stare at the ceiling. What could he say? In Wolf's world, the attempt was enough, and partial success was often acceptable. Wolf did not understand that a samurai either succeeded or failed. There were no half-measures.

Frustrated at the lack of response, Wolf sighed, rubbing the stubble on his jaw. “Look,” he said. “You didn't have a chance. You played by the rules, but we didn't. You fell for our gambit with the duels and charged right on cue when we played that PantherJock dirty. Even that trick wasn't good enough to stop you.

“While you were following our apparent lead in not using aerospace forces, we were setting you up. We didn't want any interference with our recon satellites in orbit. They were our secret advantage. While you groped like a blind man, we knew where your troops were every minute. And you stilldamn near beat us.”

Minobu listened to Wolf's confession without interruption, disturbed by Wolf's unrelenting presentation of Minobu's difficulties and near triumph over them. Wolf had fought according to his own rules of war and maintained his own honor. His confession of not fighting by Minobu's rules changed nothing. The fact was that Minobu had not succeeded at his lord's task. And if he had succeeded, he would have brought to ruin both his friend and that friend's cherished, and almost certainly wrongly accused, Dragoons. Such a success would have been too much for Minobu.

To make things worse, many brave ‘MechWarriors on both sides had died uselessly, for neither side had achieved its avowed goal. The Kuritans had failed to destroy Wolf's Dragoons, and the mercenaries were still a functional entity.

The Dragoons had exacted a high price in blood and had scattered the Draconians, but had not been able to completely destroy the forces arrayed against them. It was true that the Twenty-first Galedon had been mauled and the Seventeenth Galedon Regulars had probably been shattered beyond recovery. The Eighth Sword of Light had survived well, however, and almost half the Ryuken ‘MechWarriors would fight again. All the survivors were now hardened veterans, forged into tempered steel by those who had fought to destroy them.

The Dragoons themselves had been mauled. Though losses varied according to the intensity of combat each regiment and independent unit had seen, some casualties ran as high as 60 percent. Despite their losses, the mercenaries managed to retain cohesion and had been able to hold the battlefield. Material losses could be replaced, but trained veterans could not. Wolf's Dragoons would no longer be able to maintain their exclusive recruitment policies if they wished to field their full forces. Still, they had won their battle for survival. Several JumpShips had already left the system, taking Dragoons to join their dependents.

When Wolf lapsed into silence, Minobu heaved himself up into a sitting position, ignoring the protest of his muscles. The sudden shift narrowed his vision into a dark-edged tunnel and made him light-headed, but his voice was steady. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I'm trying to make you see that your lord should be proud of you. You've done more than any man could be expected to do.”

“Yet I failed.”

Wolf huffed. “Unity, you're a stubborn man!”

“Tenacious is a better word,” Minobu corrected mildly. “I have lived my life trying to be a virtuous man. The Dragon admires tenacity, and the code of the samurai upholds it as well. Therefore, I have tried to cultivate it. I am loyal to the code.”

Wolf started to shake his head, then stopped. A crafty look appeared on his face. “The code values loyalty above all, doesn't it?”

“You know it does.”

“Don't you know your lord betrayed you before you had a chance to fail him?”

Michi's indrawn breath did not distract Minobu, who looked directly into Wolf's gray eyes. Reaching out with his kifor the truth in the mercenary's words, he felt the glow of conviction around the tough core of Wolf's deeper being.

“It wasn't the Dragoons who held up Torisobo and his Sworders,” Wolf said, pausing to let that sink in. “They were under orders from Samsonov to hold back and let the Ryuken get mauled. After we had kicked each other to pieces, they were supposed to step in and clean up the mess. Any inconvenient survivors, of either side, would have found themselves on the business end of a PPC.” Wolf shook his head sadly.