Redburn shook his head. "Don't worry about that, Archie. We won't be on Kittery long enough for disciplinary action to come down the line if we get caught. The word's already on the street. My houseboy, Li Chung, has already presented me with a blanket his grandmother embroidered. It contains the emblem for our new unit. I often think our orders are sent via House Liao before they come to us." A wry grin spread across Redburn's broad features. "You've got a pool riding on this, don't you?"

Drew nodded his head enthusiastically. "Well, yes, sir, but don't worry. We all chipped in and bought you a unit just so you'd not be left out."

Redburn shook his head. I' II bet you did cover me, you fiends. No way to write you up if I'm in on it, eh?"What did you get me—Kurita's Second Sword of Light or Count Vitios's personal bodyguard regiment?"

Archie chuckled. "Well, sir, strictly speaking, neither of those units were considered fair. We restricted the pool to regiments we consider on ourside."

Drew nodded solemnly. "Don't worry, sir, we'll let you know if you won. So, what is it?"

Corporal Payen Montdidier, seated between de Mesnil and Archie, glared at Drew. "Can't wait to lose your money, can you?"

Before Drew could answer, however, the MechWarrior with gray-streaked hair sitting across from him grinned like a fox. "Nor can I wait to win it." Hugh de Payens looked back at Redburn. "Do you care to tell us what the verdict is?"

Sandwiched between Drew and de Payens, Geoffrey St. Omer shook his head. "No, Captain. Don't. If one of us wins, he'll have to pick up the tab for this dinner." St. Omer smiled broadly and raked fingers back through his shock of blond hair. "Not that I'd begrudge paying for a fine meal with such fine company, but. . ."

De Mesnil laughed. ". . . But you need the money for your grandmother's operation."

Craon shook his head. "No, Sar . . . Walter. That's where his poker winnings go. This money is for his sister's brood of halfwit children."

Redburn joined in the laughter. "Well, gentlemen—and you, too Drew—we're being posted to the Davion Light Guards."

Redburn smiled as his subordinates stared at him in disbelief. Yes, men, we've been assigned to one of the premier units in the Federated Suns."We apparently attracted some attention during Galahad '27."

Craon frowned. "We're a Capellan March unit, sir. Why would the Prince want us to move into one of the Davion House units?"

Redburn shrugged. It was a question he'd already asked himself many times. The boys in the Light Guards would have trouble accepting a training battalion, and their being from the Capellan March would just compound the difficulty. "I don't know, Robert."

Drew drained his beer and set the glass down on the table. Foam slid down the inside of the glass to pool at the bottom. Redburn watched it with a shiver. Everything's being drawn together. Something big is up. I can feel it. Yorinaga Kurita has a unit that no intelligence sources knew anything about until last summer. Morgan Kell has returned from his self-imposed exile, and the Prince has publicly announced his marriage to Melissa Arthur Steiner.

Drew belched lightly. "Chances are the Prince's brains have been addled by his upcoming wedding!"

Montdidier shook his head. "You buffoon." He shot a glance at Redburn. "The Prince probably remembered the Captain from when they met last summer. Saw his name on the lists and decided to honor him with this assignment."

De Mesnil, his voice rumbling like distant thunder, concurred. "Remember, my friends, the First Kittery did escape a Liao ambush and inflicted some heavy damage only halfway through their training period. That makes the lot of you impressive. I'm sure the Captain's part in the Silver Eaglerescue helped, but the First has seen more action than the NAIS cadres."

St. Omer slowly poured more beer into his glass. "Walter's right. The Davion Light Guards specialize in fast strikes with light 'Mechs. Most of the academies turn out pilots who want to jockey the heavier machines."

Archie nervously twisted his mustache. "I smell politics in this. Face it. Duke Michael and the Prince haven't exactly been getting along lately, and Major Allard's trial last year didn't help matters. Now the Prince has chosen Morgan Hasek-Davion as his best man, and he moves a Capellan March unit into one of the Davion Guard Regiments? I'd say he's trying to smooth some ruffled feathers."

Craon smiled. "What's the problem with that, Archie? One of the problems with relations between folks from the Capellan March and the Crucis March is that those from Crucis think we're savages with a frontier mentality. You've seen some of the rivalries between the Davion Assault Guards and the Fifth Syrtis Fusiliers since they both got posted here to Kittery. The Guards treat the Fusiliers like poor relations."

Andrew smiled bravely. "No one says the normalization process won't be hard, but I'm confident you'll shepherd our people through it." And I hope I can guide all of you through it as well. Perhaps posting us to service with the Second Sword of Light would have been easier.

Redburn nodded. "I seem to recall that's how they treated the First Kittery until we drove off those Capellan Cicadas.Leftenant Craon has a good point. We'll normalize relations when we get to know each other and earn each other's respect."

The waiter's arrival forestalled any further commentary. The oriental man smiled nervously and placed the bill beside Redburn, then withdrew silently. Redburn glanced over at the bill, then looked up at his friends. "So, Geoff, did you win the pool? Are you buying?"

St. Omer hung his head and Payen Montdidier—in contrast to his usual nature—smiled. Archie, Drew, and Hugh de Payens all smiled and suppressed laughter. Craon stared innocently at Redburn, so the Captain turned to de Mesnil. "Did you win, Walter? Because I won't let youpay. Not just before you ship out."

The one-eyed Sergeant smiled. "Nope."

Redburn raised an eyebrow. "Confess, gentlemen . . ."

Drew cleared his voice. "Well, sir, you'll recall I said we'd covered you?"

Redburn nodded. "And you chose a unit to which you knew we'd never be assigned just to keep me in the pool, right?"

The NCOs nodded solemnly. Redburn held out his hand, and Archie handed him a fat sheaf of Davion pound notes. "How much did I win?"

Geoff smiled sheepishly. "One hundred and forty pounds. I bought two chances . . ."

Redburn smiled and flipped the bill over. "I think that should cover . . ." What in hell?He tossed the bill over to de Mesnil. "Walter, the chop on that. Is it who I think it is?"

De Mesnil studied the red waxen seal for a second, then nodded. "Shang Dao."

Craon stared at both men. "The leader of the Yizhitong? What's going on?"

Redburn shook his head. "No time. Are any of you carrying a gun?"

Everyone but Montdidier shook their heads. The small, slender Corporal grinned again and reached into his olive green uniform coat. When his bony hands returned to view, they held two automatic pistols. He passed one to Redburn and quickly followed it with two clips of spare ammo. Then, reaching down below the table, he produced a small laser pistol and a knife.

The others stared at him, but he just shrugged. "You don't catch mestrolling naked into Shaoshan."