Dan hesitated, but Cat had foreseen his wish to hide any display of personal weakness. The tall black man handed Salome and Patrick similar glasses of whiskey, and even brandished one himself. "We've all had a shock." Cat reached around and dragged a chair away from the poker table. He sat in it with his chest resting against the back of the chair.

Salome went to sit on the sofa, and Dan wandered over to join her. Patrick Kell was now leaning against the corner of his desk. "I'm going to have the crew get the Macready to take you up to the Cucamulus.We'll get you back to New Avalon as fast as possible."

Dan held up his left hand. "No, sir. Thank you, but no, sir." What had gone wrong for Justin?

Patrick waved away Dan's protest. "Listen. There's some Kell Hound business to take care of in the Federated Suns. I'll send you to represent the battalion. It's battalion business, pure and simple."

Dan looked up and forced a weak smile. "No, Colonel— Patrick—I appreciate the gesture. Really I do, but no matter how fast I travel, it will take me over three months to reach New Avalon. And even if I did get there sooner, what good would it do? That message took more than a month to reach us here, even traveling through ComStar's 'A' circuit. They would have brought Justin out of his coma two weeks ago." Dan gasped and slammed his left fist down on the torn arm of the battered brown sofa.

No one spoke as he struggled to regain control of his emotions. Bitter tears streaked down his face, and he shook his head violently, flicking them off in anger. Muscles bunched at his jaws, and his face flushed scarlet. Stop it, Dan. Get hold of yourself. Justin's probably handling it better than you are.

"Please, forgive me," he said finally, looking around at his three friends. "I hope I've not dishonored myself in your eyes."

Cat shrugged easily. "A man loves his brother. No dishonor in that."

Salome nodded. "You were around during the Defection, when we all went through our own private hells. You were there for us. Now it's our turn."

The Defection.They all thought of it that way, and they all carried the scars. After a strange battle on Mallory's World with that Kurita commander—one Yorinaga Kurita—Colonel Morgan Kell had quit the unit and entered a monastery on Zaniah III. Two-thirds of the Kell Hound Regiment had left at the same time. All that had happened eleven years ago. Patrick still wondered why Morgan had not trusted him with a full regiment, and Salome still wondered why Morgan had left her. And Dan never did understand why, as soon as he joined the Kell Hounds, they had fallen apart.

Patrick Kell nodded slowly in echo of Salome's words. "We've all been through so much together, Dan," he said, keeping his vow never to speak of the Defection. He faltered, then recovered himself. "I know what it is to have an older brother, and to lose him. But we all worked together and built up this unit into the best mercenary battalion around." Patrick nodded at Cat and Salome. "We share your pain."

Dan smiled weakly. "I appreciate this. I just hope Justin made it through ... you know ... all in one piece mentally." He drank a slug from his glass and relished the burning in his throat. "I remember how, when we were growing up, other kids used to beat up on Justin because he was half-Capellan. I used to want to help him fight, but win or lose, he always kept me back. 'My fight, Danny,' he'd say. When I'd tell him that he was my brother and that it was ourfight, he'd laugh and tell me I could have whatever he couldn't handle."

Patrick smiled warmly and sipped his whiskey. "I've heard good things about your brother Justin. Always hoped he'd want to join the Hounds."

Dan nodded. "Me, too. I can remember when he announced his intention to enroll in Sakhara Military Academy. He told my father he wanted to be away from New Avalon to keep from taking advantage of the Allard name, and my father took that rather well. Justin told me he wanted to become a MechWarrior because, in a BattleMech, everyone becomes equal. From that moment, I decided to become a MechWarrior, too, because I wanted to be Justin's equal."

Salome reached out and kneaded the muscles at the back of Dan's neck with her strong, slender fingers. "I bet there's another message rattling around in some ComStar center that would tell you that Justin is doing fine. The New Avalon Institute of Science has made so many breakthroughs lately. At least your brother's getting the best possible care."

"Dan, are you certain you don't want to head out? I'm not saying we can function without you, but the Cucamulusis yours if you want her." Patrick pointed out the window at the Manannan MacLir."I'll have the Mac's,crew stand by, just in case."

Dan shook his head, drained his glass, and stood. "No, but thank you. Thank all you." He smiled calmly. "I'm sure Justin will be fine. As the aerojocks like to say, 'Any wreck you walk away from is a good one.' "

Dan's head came up and he smiled even more broadly. "I've got work to do here, and Justin would think poorly of me if I didn't accomplish it. After all, someone's got to figure out a way to get Master Sergeant Jones off Old Stormy when his time comes."

Patrick Kell smiled. "Understood, Captain. Just remember, the door's always open."

Daniel Allard nodded, but Kell's words barely registered with so many thoughts speeding through his own mind. I'll find out who did this to you, Justin, and I swear, his blood will be on the hands of an Allard.

5

Solaris VII (The Game World)

Rahneshire, Lyran Commonwealth

15 January 3027

The black and blood-red groundcar sliced through the gray drizzle, cutting around piles of debris scattered over the ferrocrete street. As the car's headlights burned away the dark shadows hiding alleys and doorways from view, pedestrians scrambled back out of the light. Recognizing the car, they knew, as certain as the clouds never left Solaris VII, that to ambush that vehicle was to die.

The groundcar crossed the burned out "no-man's-land" between Cathay and Silesia—the Capellan and Lyran quarters, respectively, of Solaris City. The tongsmen of Cathay ignored the vehicle as it left their area of influence, but the "unofficial" wardens of Silesia snapped respectful salutes at the darkened windscreen as the car sped past on a whispering cushion of air. The vehicle turned left at the first unblocked street and stopped finally before the narrow doorway of a nondescript building.

Air hissed as the gull-wing door on the driver's side of the car swung upward. No interior light came on, for the driver refused to be silhouetted for a sniper's convenience. Stepping quickly into the rain-slicked street, he snapped the door down shut. With long-legged strides, the driver headed toward the smoked glass door.

Once inside, the man swept off the slouch-brimmed black hat from his shaved head, and handed it and his spattered rain cloak to the checkroom attendant. He quickly followed that with a 10 C-bill tip, and smiled at her reaction. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Noton," the girl gushed in astonishment. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she could hardly believe that he'd given her a ComStar Bill. Most of her tips had to be in House Bills or, worse yet, Solaris scrip, the underground currency that paid for most of the illegal doings on this world.

"It's real, child." His deep voice had an edge that did not quite match the warmth of his smile, but the girl never noticed. Noton turned from her, straightened his double-breasted blue satin shirt, and fastened the last two buttons at his left shoulder. Feeling how tightly his shirt stretched across his barrel chest, he knew that if he grew any stouter, he'd have to abandon the paramilitary dress that all MechWarriors favored. Noton thought better of it then, and smiled to himself. As long as I am a MechWarrior, I will continue to dress as one.