Hanse's internal voice answered him. For a man like that, all explanations are just lies covering other lies. He'd find some deeper, more sinister motives for your actions. You only tell him what you want him to know, and he digs for more. It's part of the game, and the key is not showing him how much his attacks annoy you.

Hanse rubbed the unshaven stubble on his chin. "But do the people— mypeople—believe him? And does he tell more of the truth than I allow myself to see? When I first came to the throne, I saw myself as a caretaker of my brother's realm, but that time is long gone. Have I become some kind of dictator out for personal gain?"

A DropShip burning low through the sky near the NAIS drew the Prince's attention. He smiled. "As long as DropShips keep bringing in Liao 'Mech salvage, Green will probably not have too much support. True patriots never listen to complaints about a victorious war."

As the DropShip slowed, then sank toward the ground, something nagged at the back of Hanse's mind. Is there a shipment coming in today?He crossed to his desk and used the visiphone to reach New Avalon's Spaceport Control.

The clerk stationed at the phone jerked alert and smiled at the Prince. "Highness, what can I do for you?"

Hanse returned the young man's smile. "The DropShip that came in on an NAIS vector . .. what is it?"

The clerk's face drained of color. He turned, and in his nervousness, forgot to mute the speaker. "Henry, we're done. That DropShip woke up the Prince. Waddyamean, what Prince? ThePrince, you idiot! What was that ship's name?"

Henry, out of sight, yelled an answer to the question. Hanse heard it before the clerk could relay the message and his blood went cold. He stared into the visiphone. "Get tactical command and have them put aerofighters in the air. That ship's not the Camelot!"

The clerk's jaw dropped open. "How ... ?"

"Never mind how I know." Hanse said sharply. "Just do it!" He snapped off the connection, then whirled toward the door. That ship's an impostor. It can't be theCamelot, but only a handful of people know that right now theCamelot is carrying my wife back to Tharkad.

Hanse burst from his suite, startling the two guards at his door to attention. Barefoot, he sped past them and down long marble corridors he'd not run through since the nearly forgotten era of games with his brother Ian. At the end of one corridor, he slapped the button to summon the elevator, but then dashed away impatiently and flew down the stairs. Three flights later, deep in the ground beneath the Palace, he reached his goal.

Chest heaving with excitement and exertion, the Prince flicked on the lights in the 'Mech bay. The cavernous room, bereft of the battalion of 'Mechs belonging to the Heavy Guards, dwarfed the sole 'Mech inhabiting it. Tall and humanoid, with a massive, pistol-like PPC in its left hand, the 'Mech looked down on him the way he imagined a warhorse might have regarded the knight who rode it.

Hanse was smiling as he sprinted across the open bay toward the rope ladder hanging down from the 'Mech's cockpit to the floor. It's been a long time . . . far too long.He eagerly scrambled up the BattleMaster'sbroad chest. They've brought the war to me because they've forgotten. They've forgotten that before I became Prince of the Federated Suns, a command couch was my throne, a neurohelmet was my crown, and the battlefield my domain. After tonight, no one will ever forget that again.

* * *

The BattleMaster'slong-legged gait ate up the five kilometers between the Palace and the NAIS campus like a cheetah chasing an antelope. Hitting top speed, Hanse sped his 'Mech through the Davion Peace Park, leaving two-decimeter-deep footprints behind him. Aware of his surroundings in the vaguest way, he avoided the monuments scattered throughout the park only because of the damage a collision might do to his 'Mech. Gone was the Prince who had presided over the tearful dedications of these memorials; the 'Mech's cockpit held a man whose sole concern was tactics and strategies of combat.

The flames billowing from the NAIS dormitories silhouetted most of the Death Commando 'Mechs and threatened to burn out his infrared display. Without conscious thought, Hanse shifted the scanning mode over to normal light as he barreled into the fray. The PPC in the BattleMaster'sleft fist cored the aft armor on a Panther,spitting armor-shards and melted parts out in its backwash. The Pantherpitched forward, then exploded when the fusion engine consumed its SRM magazine.

A Marauderturned around to face him. It stabbed one massive arm in his direction, but Hanse angrily batted it aside with the BattleMaster'sright hand. The Marauder'sPPC blasted into a small guard house, its cerulean thunderstrike blowing the building into brick dust and fiery splinters. The Liao 'Mech, having missed its first strike, pivoted to bring its other arm into play.

Sitting tight in the BattleMaster'scockpit, Hanse Davion shook his head. No way do you get behind me!He leaned his 'Mech into the Marauder,jamming into the thorax with his shoulder. The ungainly Liao 'Mech tottered, then landed on its back, clawing at the sky like an overturned turtle.

Seeing movement on the 360-degree display, Hanse swung back to the left. His PPC pistol-whipped the humanoid Griffin that had been coming at his unprotected back. The massive weapon exploded as it smashed into the Griffin 'sface. The Griffin spun away, smoke billowing from the shattered cockpit, and collapsed much as its Human analog would have.

Alerted by frantic calls from the Marauder,the other Death Commandos turned from their wanton destruction to face the Assault 'Mech in their midst. Hanse cursed them silently. Damn! There are so many of them!Grim determination filled him, and outrage burned in his veins. To hell with the odds and the numbers. They've attacked my home. If I'm to die in this war, let it be here.

Hanse dropped his targeting crosshairs onto one Locustand fired all four of his forward lasers. The four beams focused on the birdlike 'Mech's chest, slicing it open like a surgeon's scalpel. The beams lanced through the fusion engine, letting superheated plasma leak from the 'Mech's heart like puss from a boil. In a flash of heat and brilliant light, the Locustvanished.

Hanse ducked his ponderous war machine to the right as the enemy returned fire. He ignored the shafts of coherent light that melted scars across the BattleMaster'sbroad chest as he discarded the shattered remains of his PPC. He barely felt the shower of short- and long-range missiles peppering the 'Mech's flesh, pockmarking it with craters. For all the thunder of explosions and the rainbow of lights that made up the Liao counterattack, none of it breached his defenses.

The BattleMasterreached out for and grabbed the right arm of the downed Marauder.Hanse set his 'Mech's right leg against the Marauder'storso, crushing armor and warping the other 'Mech's skeleton. With a heave of myomer muscles, the Battle-Masterripped the Marauder'sarm free. Sparks shot from the ruined shoulder, the metal and armor screaming as though the Marauderwere alive and protesting its maiming. Like Beowulf raising Grendel's severed arm, Hanse Davion brandished the limb triumphantly at his foes.

Except for those moments that burned into his consciousness from stroboscopic explosions or the harsh glare of a PPC's azure fury, the scene was a blur for Hanse. The BattleMasterlunged forward like a bear into a pack of wolves. A Stingerignited its jump jets in an effort to escape him. It rose too slowly on twin columns of ion flame, so the BattleMaster's shoulder hit it at the knees. Upended, the light 'Mech slammed headfirst into the ground behind the Prince of the Federated Suns, crushing the cockpit and killing the pilot instantly.