Hanse waved Sortek to a chair. "We're not certain yet, but this holodisk is a message from Michael. It should be explosive."

As if sparked by Hanse's final word, Sortek extended the files toward Allard. "Some of your men said they'd found the originals for these files while they were decontaminating the luggage that came in with Michael's 'representatives.' They also added the top file, which is a complete rundown on each of the men Michael has sent."

Allard took the files and set them down on a corner table. He dimmed the lights, then punched the viewer's start-up button. After an initial burst of static, a golden lion on a field of bright green filled the screen. As Michael Hasek-Davion's personal crest was fading from the screen, Sortek noted drily, "Is it just me, or is that lion looking more and more Capellan every time we see it."

Hanse exaggerated a frown. "You can't believe that Michael might be talking to Liao, could you?”

“Ha!" Sortek laughed.

Michael Hasek-Davion's face materializing on the screen cut off all further comment. Only seven years Hanse Davion's senior, the Duke of New Syrtis wore his long black hair in a braid that curled around and up over his shoulder like a snake. His restless green eyes, just slightly too close together, kept shifting away from the camera, failing utterly to convey sincerity. His voice, though deep and well-suited to speech-making, carried no conviction.

"Greetings, brother. Your sister Andrea is well and sends her love. She is anxious for your welfare and hopes you are as fit as ever." Unknowingly referring to the brief period when Liao's double ruled in Hanse's stead, Michael continued, "Your bout with the Kentares flu last year worried her greatly."

Hanse smiled in the shadows. "Michael could never lie that well. He'll never know how close Liao came to winning the Federated Suns." With a nod, he saluted Quintus for his efforts in killing the news of the Liao plot.

Michael Hasek-Davion moved back from the camera, and the focus adjusted to take in the whole of the Duke's austere office. The tiled floors and white plaster walls were patterned after dwellings from the North American deserts on Terra, but the neo-cubist artwork and campaign maps tacked to the walls destroyed any of the peacefulness envisioned by the architect who had created the office. Hasek-Davion perched himself on the corner of his desk.

"It is not easy for us to speak with you about the following matter, Prince Davion, because it calls into question your motives toward the Capellan March. Yes, we fully acknowledge your anger with us because we refuse to commit our troops to your war with Kurita in the north, but House Liao eyes us with hungry intent. How well could I serve you as a Marchlord if I allowed you to strengthen one front, only to lose another?"

Michael shrugged, then his face darkened with thinly disguised outrage. "How is it that you have not yet begun prosecution against the worst traitor the Federated Suns has ever seen? How is it that you have turned the resources of your vaunted New Avalon Institute of Science to help restore a vile quisling to his health? How can you justify anything but death for Justin Allard?"

The vehemence in Michael's voice cut off any opportunity for the room's trio of occupants to comment. "Justin Xiang Allard, the son of your own counter-intelligence chief, has betrayed the Capellan March on more than one occasion. You knew of, but chose to overlook, his dismissal of Sergeant Philip Capet. You yourself had pinned the Gold Sunburst upon Capet's chest for his selfless valor on Uravan. How Allard's dismissal of such a hero could escape your notice is beyond me—unless that report somehow never reached you."

Though Hanse knew Quintus Allard was not so insecure as to need reassurance, he turned to him with a look that said, I know he lies.The grim smile on Allard's ashen face showed that the man took the Prince's meaning.

"We are certain, Prince Davion, that you have seen reports on the ambush that cost Justin Allard his arm. Many people might have put his injury down to bad luck. My investigators, however, have uncovered information suggesting that the treasonous half-caste merely ran afoul of his incompetent confederates and was attacked before he could identify himself."

Michael reached behind him and pulled up a thick folder. "Unsupported conjecture? No, it is not. It is fact. We have countless reports of Major Allard spending much of his spare time among the indigs of Kittery. We know of contacts he's made with the local Tongs, and how he has gained control of them. While reports to you might have indicated a pacification of Kittery's largely Capellan population, my agents report that Allard had them biding their time until the moment when they could overthrow our authority."

As Michael replaced the file on his desk, the camera slowly drifted in toward a close-up. "We realize this may seem like a trivial matter to you, but it is of the utmost importance here in the Capellan March. Our people already believe that your attention is consumed entirely with the Kurita front and the slender threads of an alliance with the Lyran Commonwealth. They feel you do not care about them and that you are willing to strip us of troops, 'Mechs, and resources merely to keep the Combine from your neck."

Michael stared out from the screen. "If Justin Allard is not tried for treason—and we assure you that he is a spy of the highest order—what are my people to think? You know well how difficult it is to maintain an effective empire when civil unrest saps your strength from within. I would hate to think that the kind of problems that plague the Free Worlds League might also befall you.My people are at your command in pursuing the just resolution of this matter."

The screen faded to black, leaving the three men silent in the darkness. Then, as static flashed like a blizzard across the screen, Quintus Allard rose stiffly from his seat and dialed the lights up brighter.

How dare you threaten me with a civil war!Hanse thought angrily. I have not forgotten, Michael, that Anton Marik's forces in the Free Worlds League civil war were backed by Maximilian Liao. Have you tipped your hand to me, brother mine, or are you just too stupid to see that Liao would use you as shabbily as he did Anton Marik? Recall, Michael, that Anton Marik is dead. . .

Hanse looked over at his MHO Minister and felt a pang in his heart. "Gentlemen, let us review our options. Michael gives us little choice other than to sacrifice Justin Allard to keep the Capellan March a part of the Federated Suns. Are things that bad out there?"

Quintus shook his head and concentrated to clear away the shock he had felt at Michael's message. "His allusion to the civil war in the Free Worlds League is an idle threat. Michael knows that many of the people in the Capellan March see him as no more than your half-sister's consort. I doubt that he could get enough popular support to pull off a revolt."

Ardan Sortek leaned forward in his chair and loosened the collar of his dark blue uniform jacket. "I think Quintus is right, but Michael could influence his people to resist our sending troops from the Capellan March to other fronts. We're nowhere near spread as thin on the Capellan border as House Liao is, but Liao can still cause trouble. The assault on Stein's Folly turned out badly for them eighteen months ago, but a strike that deep behind our border scared some people badly. Michael is right when he suggests that further attacks would devastate morale and definitely slow down the production of vital goods. That spells unrest rather plainly."