Justin drew in a deep breath and again forced himself to calmness. He looked up at Craon guilelessly. "All I've just told you is part of a classified report prepared for Hanse Davion to determine if Capet would get his Gold Sunburst. He had become the darling of a holo-drama, and so the High Command hoped that he would also accept an early retirement at the time of the award. When he refused to step down, they gave him a training cadre." Justin lowered his voice and shook his head. "When intelligence sources learned of his plan to hijack a JumpShip to go back and get his revenge on Liao, I refused to let him kill you in such an idiotic scheme."

The color had drained from Craon's face, and his hands had returned to their place at the small of his back. "I appreciate your trust in sharing this information with me, sir. I stand ready to receive whatever punishment you name."

Justin nodded solemnly. "You realize that I could have you dismissed from this training cadre for what you have done?" Craon winced unconsciously. "Yes, I thought you knew that," he added, looking hard at the soldier standing before him. He saw no fear in Craon's blue eyes, only self-loathing at his own stupidity.

You’re learning to admit that you can make a mistake. Good. That's the first step toward avoiding them, and the only way to survive as a MechWarrior.

Justin smiled carefully. "You have, in the past, evidenced some leadership ability. As your punishment now, I have decided to let you hone that ability. Until further notice, you will act as shepherd for all of your cadre's exercises. You'll eat everyone else's dust, Robert, and you'll keep them all in line—or it will be yourcareer." Justin watched a faint smile come over Craon's lips. "And, you'll help the Techs keep your 'Mech in perfect working order after each exercise."

Craon snapped to attention and saluted smartly. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Justin stood and returned the salute. "Dismissed."

Craon turned and left the room, but left the door open. Justin smiled at his retreating back, then sat down again to attack some of the paperwork piled on his desk. He initialed a stack of reports and tossed them into a basket for filing. The sooner the whole of Kittery is tied into the computer system, the easier this job will be.

He shook his head. You’re not being paid for easy duty, Justin. If you were, they'd not have put you in charge of a local training battalion, especially not on a planet where your Capellan blood makes you a sworn enemy. Prince Hanse Davion put you here because you're half-Capellan and can understand the Capellan natives. Dealing with these sons and daughters of Federated Suns carpetbaggers, on the other hand...

Justin glanced at the holograph of Hanse Davion and himself that had been taken at the ceremony awarding him the Diamond Sunburst. The tall leader of the Federated Suns towered over then-Captain Allard. As Justin twisted the holograph to examine it closer, he saw that Davion's expression of gratitude and trust was sincere.

In presenting the award, Hanse Davion had said to Justin, "Once again, I find my realm indebted to your family. I hope the Federated Suns is ever worthy of your courage and sacrifice." It was Davion's trust in Justin that had brought this posting to Kittery, for the Prince hoped Justin could help to normalize relations with the newly conquered population. I only wish that more of his subjects understood that being able to get along with the Capellan natives is not a prelude to giving the Capellan March to Maximilian Liao and his Capellan Confederation,Justin thought ruefully.

Just then, a smiling man of average height and build paused in the doorway and tapped lightly on the open door. "Major, we've got to get moving."

His musing interrupted, Justin righted the holograph, looked at the time on his watch, and then cursed softly. "Come in, Andy. Close the door behind you." Justin narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the stack of papers the man was carrying. "What are those? I can't deal with anything routine right now. Besides, you know as well as I do that the only reason I can head out with you this afternoon is because the stack of requests you sent through channels is taller than any other mound on this desk."

Leftenant Redburn crossed to Justin's desk and set the papers on top of the computer monitor. Clad in boots, shorts, and a cooling vest that revealed a well-muscled, if somewhat pale, body, the man smiled and ran a hand over his cropped auburn hair. "Forms, filled out in triplicate, for this afternoon's exercise. I've filed an environmental impact statement for every meter of the turf we're to cover today, and the locals have just issued us a 'parade permit.' " He sighed loudly. "Sometimes I wonder why the Duke of New Syrtis just doesn't give this world back to Liao. Michael Hasek-Davion's let so many of them into the government here that he might as well cede the place to Capella."

Justin smiled slyly. "Leftenant Redburn, now you sound like your men when they complain about having a Capellan half-breed as their commanding officer."

Redburn's cheeks immediately flushed red with embarrassment. "Sir, if you think I was saying . .."

Justin held up his hand and quieted the young officer. "Easy, Andrew. I understand what you're saying." Justin unbuttoned his jacket and walked to the dressing chamber annexed to his office. His voice echoed through the open doorway. "The idea of turning in a centimeter-by-centimeter description of our line of march doesn't thrill me, either, but there's nothing we can do. This is Michael's domain, and his word is law."

Redburn nodded. "I trust him and his bureaucrats about as far as I can toss Craon."

Justin laughed. "Indeed, and just how far is that?"

"What?"

Justin stepped from the dressing chamber in boots, shorts, and open cooling vest. Muscles and veins stood out on a body virtually without fat. "Your report said nothing about the battle I heard about between you and Craon."

The Leftenant shrugged. "Wasn't really a fight. I cracked him a good one on the jaw, then concentrated on his bread-basket." Redburn unconsciously rubbed the ribs on his right side. "He got a couple of punches in, but it ended quickly." He smiled like a child remembering the taste of stolen melon. "Was hardly worth mentioning."

Justin chuckled. "I accept you at your word, Leftenant." Justin nodded at his subordinate. Thank you for your efforts on my behalf.Redburn returned the nod, and Justin knew he'd been understood. "I've assigned Craon to be shepherd for this little outing. How many 'Mechs will we have with us?"

Redburn thought for a half-second. "Thirty-two, including us. I have four lances of four and three with five. As usual, I did not assign you to any one lance. I'll be in the Spiderand I've given you the Valkyrieon loan from the Kittery Borderers. You know, those damned regulars said that they were only handing over the 'Mech because you're a real MechWarrior. Everyone else gets a Stinger."

Justin nodded. The two men left the office and quickly made their way through the tiled corridors to the massive 'Mech bay that loomed over the smaller Base Command Center. The roof, supported by metal beams and a skeletal framework, arched some fifteen meters over the ferrocrete floor. The translucent plastic used to form and seal the roof let in enough of the gold light from Kittery's F9 sun to illuminate the metal giants housed within the hangar.

Ringing the room like silent tomb-sentinels, BattleMechs gleamed in the sun's bright light. Techs and astechs in green jumpsuits swarmed like insects over units in need of repair, and spare parts dangled from powered winches running on beams above the war machines. Five times the height of the men who worked on them, 'Mechs were objects of fascination rather than fear for the men and women who nursed them back to health. At the moment, these broken giants stood docile and in dire need of the steady hands and diagnostic genius of the Techs before any would again march into battle.