The elder Allard smiled slightly. "Fine, really. She's angry at being held for observation. They only convinced her to stay by promising to notify her the second Kym woke up."

A pang of regret shot through Hanse. "How is she?"

Quintus's smile faded slightly. "Still unconscious, but all the signs are good." The Minister of Intelligence, Information, and Operations glanced back over his shoulder at Dr. Banzai. "When Banzai came in off the battlefield, they wouldn't let him work on his own people because the doctors thought he'd be too emotionally attached to function objectively. He immediately took charge of Kym's care, and she's already begun to respond to treatment. She won't remember the events that put her out, but she should be fine."

Before they could reach the doors and the waiting press of reporters, Hanse reached out and stopped Quintus. Turning his back to the throng, the Prince spoke in a low, urgent tone. "What happened? How the hell did that ship have the proper clearance codes to get a landing vector at the NAIS?"

Quintus shook his head. "I haven't tracked that down yet, but I would guess we had some sloppy security in the occupied territories. Most of the worlds we've captured are taking to pacification, but there are still Liao loyalists operating on them. If they heard something . . ."

"Were we wrong, Quintus? Did the message refer to this strike at the NAIS as opposed to a strike at Kathil?"

Shielded by the Prince's body from the cameras' prying eyes, Quintus shrugged. "I don't believe so. We got a faxed message this morning from Morgan reporting that a contingent of Liao DropShips had arrived insystem and were burning toward Kathil. We won't know for a couple of days yet what happened, but the tone of the message was confident."

Hanse drew in a deep breath. "At least we know he didn't have to face Death Commandos."

"But that's a minor consolation, I think."

Hanse nodded agreement. We stopped you here, Maximilian Liao, and I know Morgan stopped you on Kathil. That's it. . . that was your last gasp. Within three months, you and your mad recklessness will be behind us forever.

Composing his expression, Hanse Davion turned to face the questions and the cameras of the media.

43

Dromini VI

Kessel Prefecture , Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine

15 September 3029

Duke Frederick Steiner winced in pain as the Draconian guard grabbed a handful of white hair and forced his head up. On his knees, with his hands and wrists bound together in a peculiar, cross-shaped set of shackles, Steiner stared up at his captor, but his blue eyes did not admit defeat. You have me in body, but never in soul.

Clad in a gray shitagiand traditional black zubon,Theodore Kurita frowned at the guard. He shook his head as he rested his right hand on the pistol holstered at his right hip. "lie.Do not treat the Duke so. His surrender brings no dishonor on him."

The guard released the Duke's hair, and Frederick slumped back down onto his haunches. "Thank you, Prince Theodore." Frederick's head rose slowly, as did the emotion in his voice. "I would not have imagined that your code of Bushidowould see anything but gross cowardice in my action."

Theodore did not answer Frederick directly. Addressing the guard, he ordered Frederick's right hand freed, then dismissed the soldier. Theodore turned from the Duke. Staring out the plate-glass wall at the city of Kanashimi, he granted the other man a moment of privacy to stretch and unknot the muscles of that arm. "We have most of the fires under control now."

Frederick took some comfort in that, though he kept his face blank of any emotion. Six hours after the fight is over and the fires still burn. Good. That means this mission may actually have accomplished something positive."You will forgive me if I take little joy in that news. I would much prefer to hear that the fires are utterly out of control."

The younger Mech Warrior turned from the window, his expression bemused. "I would expect no less from you, Duke Frederick. I would probably feel the same way in your position because we seem to be much alike. I always imagined that we would face off with one another, but that the circumstances and timing would be far different."

The note of regret in Theodore's voice confused Frederick. "You and I are both MechWarriors, Prince Theodore, but there the similarity ends. With our vocations, was this not the only sort of meeting we could have? Perhaps we could have fought on the battlefield, but I see no other conflict being waged between us."

Theodore crossed to the sideboard and splashed some sakeinto a pair of small bowls. "Well, Frederick, as we are both MechWarriors, there should be no titles between us." The tall, slender Prince brought one bowl of the rice liquor toward Frederick, but set it on the floor where the Lyran captive would have to shuffle forward to get it. Then he drew back beyond Frederick's possible striking range.

Frederick bowed his head in Theodore's direction. He appreciated the gesture indicating he might be dangerous despite being hobbled. Frederick worked his way forward and lifted the bowl. "How didyou see us battling, Theodore?"

The Coordinator's heir smiled emotionlessly. "I had imagined you and I waging war as the heads of our respective nations." His eyes half shut. "I had expected by now for you to have supplanted that woman ..."

Frederick spat to the side in disgust. "As I have lately discovered, I would have been a puppet controlled by Aldo Lestrade were I on the throne. I feel no honor in making such an admission, but this is not the time for self-deception. Only through Aldo would I have outsmarted Katrina Steiner, but the sword that cleared my path to the throne would have become the dagger pressed to my throat."

Theodore sipped his sake."Of this I am aware." He smiled, but his eyes focused distantly. "I had standing orders with some of the Nekekamito kill Lestrade as soon as he had succeeded in his plan to make you Archon."

The sharp-tasting liquid burned a path through Frederick's chest and warmed his stomach. "A puppet with no puppetmaster would not be difficult to deal with."

Theodore set his bowl down on the sideboard to free his hands. "You grossly undervalue your abilities as a military leader. With you on the throne, the Lyran Commonwealth and the Draconis Combine could have joined in a glorious war. You would have learned that I ordered Lestrade's death, and you would have sent the forces of Skye against me. It would have been spectacular... a straight contest of military power—the ultimate fulfillment of Bushidofor all involved."

Frederick laughed derisively. "Easy for you to wish for such a battle with me in chains and you the victor."

Theodore turned, waving a hand at the window wall and the thin trails of gray smoke rising from half a dozen locations. "In some ways, this actually increases my estimation of you. You brought a crack regiment in to destroy the supplies for an invasion, knowing you would be facing at least three times your number in defenders."

Theodore turned, his eyes ablaze. "Through your leadership, your Mech Warriors sublimated their own dreams of personal glory. They fought as whole units—almost like hive minds—in their relentless drive to reach their targets. When one fell, another moved to take its place in line. Those who were damaged fought on beyond all reason, forcing my people to destroy them before they could pursue the bulk of your strike force. Many of the companies actually reached their targets and caused great destruction before we stopped them. It was magnificent."