"I started in a lance of other Rasalhagians of mixed birth and deposed the Corporal leading it. I made a rough agreement with the others in my lance that we would try to work together, and they accepted the wisdom of such an approach. I know they meant to get rid of me the first time the whim struck, and so I worked hard to make sure they would never feel so inclined. Soon, by salvage, trading, and outright theft, our lance's 'Mechs were fully operational."

Akira shrugged wearily. "During my assignment with the Eleventh Vega, I manipulated ISF informers and other Mech-Warriors to solidify power. I never refused an order to doom a rival, but I did not hesitate to act whenever I could rescue someone from a dangerous situation and profit in that manner."

Muscles bunched at Akira's jaws. "During a raid on the Lyran world of Ryde, I did directly disobey a suicidal order by my Chu-i,but I did so because the order made no tactical sense. Instead, my lance hit the advancing enemy on the flank and opened a line of retreat for the rest of the company. The Chu-idied during the retreat and I was elected to replace him."

Akira exhaled slowly. "My career is not one that will be held up as an example to cadets at Sun Zhang, unless it is to note how an officer must be careful of ambitious subordinates. Perhaps my career would seem more spectacular today if the Combine did not ignore recommendations for awards from the Legion of Vega or if the Legion was able to procure anywhere near the level of supplies needed to keep a regiment working. All I know is that I am no more and no less than a MechWarrior. I come to serve you, House Kurita, and the Draconis Combine."

Yorinaga glanced idly at his desk. "As you have said, yours is not a shining example of a military career. What would you do, Chu-iBrahe, if your commander were to give you an order that conflicted with what you felt was best for the Draconis Combine in a particular situation?"

Akira brought up his head. "I would obey instantly, though I would also stand ready to obey another order if my commander chose to reconsider."

Yorinaga nodded. "And if your commander asked you to commit seppuku,here, now?"

Akira stripped his robe back to bare his chest and abdomen. "I would only ask that my father stand as my second to ease my pain so that I would not dishonor myself or my family."

Yorinaga smiled. "It is clear you would dishonor neither." He looked up at Narimasa and Tarukito. "Please prepare a place for ChusaAkira Brahe in the Officer's Quarters. He will join you shortly." Yorinaga bowed as his subordinates left his office, then turned back to his son.

"How is it, Akira, that you bear your mother's name?"

Akira paled and glanced at the matted floor. "You do not wish to know."

Yorinaga passed his right hand back over his closely cropped gray hair. "I would not ask the question if I did not want the answer."

Akira swallowed hard. "It is the name of my 'legal' father, Gustav Brahe."

Yorinaga frowned. "But he is your grandfather . . ."

Akira nodded. "When you fell from grace, your wife asked if she could commit seppukuto redeem the family's honor. Mies Kurita, acting on direct orders from the Coordinator, refused her request and had her sold into slavery. She threatened to kill herself anyway, but she was told that a slave who did such a thing without the permission of her master was defective, and that her child—me—would suffer for it. Then they set a price of 20,000 ComStar bills for her."

Yorinaga shook his head. "But it is impossible for a citizen to adopt a slave's child."

Akira shook his head slowly. "Not if the child is an orphan." As tears filled his eyes, one drop escaped to roll slowly down along his nose. "You had been declared a non-person and exiled. My mother could not live with the thought of you suffering in disgrace. Her master allowed her to kill herself."

Yorinaga swallowed hard. "It takes an extraordinary man to allow so valuable a slave such release. Her master must have been very special."

Akira nodded. "He is. And after he watched his daughter die, he adopted me and saved me from following her into death."

9

Kittery

Capellan March, Federated Suns

20 November 3027

Captain Andrew Redburn smiled gratefully at the Capellan waiter who was pouring more tea into Redburn's cup. "Thank you, xiexie.The dinner was excellent." The Capellan bowed and retreated through the beaded curtain that cut off the small alcove from the rest of the restaurant. As Redburn watched light flash from the beads, he enjoyed the gentle tinkling against the buzz of conversation from the larger dining room.

Taking a sip of tea, he let its warmth radiate out to relax his body. I think I begin to understand why this was one of Justin's favorite haunts.Redburn breathed in through his nose and smiled. Though he was pleasantly full, the scents of the many dishes being served to other patrons were appetizing.

The auburn-haired Mech Warrior returned his attention to the seven other men sitting at his table. He set his tea cup down on the table and then hoisted a glass of beer into the air. "To Walter de Mesnil, the best Sergeant the First Kittery Training Battalion ever had. Without you, this unit would have fallen apart long ago."

De Mesnil chuckled to himself as his fellow non-commissioned officers raised their glasses in a salute. "I remind you, Captain, that I was the only Sergeant in the First Kittery." He smiled and mirth gleamed in his single brown eye.

Redburn chuckled. "Hell, if the unit had been in real trouble, we'd have gotten a Sergeant with two eyes. We'll miss you, Walter. Sure you won't reconsider leaving the unit?"

De Mesnil shook his black and gray-maned head, his left hand straying up to touch the patch over his left eye. "Sorry, Captain. I gave my word." The Sergeant looked around at the rest of his comrades. "I promised Morgan Kell I'd ship out and rejoin the Kell Hounds whenever he gave the word." De Mesnil smiled and nodded at the lanky, fair-haired man sitting across from him. "Besides, you'll not miss me. You've got Robert Craon to take my place. He'll be enough to get you guys into trouble."

Craon smiled. "I believe that's what they're afraid of, Sarge."

De Mesnil shook his head. "It's Walter now, Robert." De Mesnil took in the other NCOs with his glance. "We all knew a couple of you recruits would make Leftenant and assume command of lances, and we all hoped you'd be one of them."

A maudlin silence settled over the MechWarriors for a moment, until Andrew Montbard, the brown-haired Corporal at the far end of the rectangular table, shattered the stillness with a loud belch. He blushed in embarrassment, then lowered his head like an angry bull, silently challenging anyone to comment. In his own defense, he said, "Well, consider that a compliment to the chef." He pushed himself back from the table and rested his chair against the alcove's dark wooden wall. "All right, Captain, now that we've wet-nursed these recruits through two years of training, what's next? I know you've got our assignments. Spill it."

Next to him, Archie St. Agnan frowned and nervously twisted his black mustache. "Drew, is that wise? We're sitting in a restaurant run by the Yizhitong in the middle of Shaoshan. The place is probably riddled with spies for House Liao. Technically, according to CID directives, we're not even supposed to be here."