Grayson stepped from beneath the shadow of his Maruaderand onto the sunlit plain. Sirius's light held a distinctly greenish cast, filtered as it was by the planet's atmosphere, but he kept his eyes turned away from its blazing intensity. Though nearly six times farther from Sirius V than Sol is from Terra, the tiny eye-searing disk of Sirius was a danger if gazed at directly, even through polarized goggles. Close to the horizon ahead and just above the gray domes of Tiantan, Grayson could just make out a tiny but brilliant pinpoint of light, like a planet gleaming low in an evening sky. That, Grayson knew, was not a planet, but the white dwarf companion to the far larger sun above him.

Grayson had learned during his pre-mission research that the white dwarf looped about Sirius A in an elongated orbit that brought it to within nearly 10 AU of the primary sun once every 50 years. The last such close passage had been in 2993. The next would occur in another seventeen years. The white dwarf did not add appreciably to the heat shed by Sirius A during its passage, but it was dangerous to look at the sky in those years when Sirius B was at its closest. Those twin sources of ultraviolet radiation could fry a man's retinas, despite the frigid atmosphere of this planet.

What kind of world is it, where men fear to look at the sky?Grayson wondered.

The chosen ambassador of the Tiantan Fathers stood thirty meters away, tiny against the vastness of the chill landscape and the hulking vehicles behind him, bundled like Grayson in an environmental suit and mask against the cold and poison air. The wind snatched at the man's cloak, which he had pulled around him for extra protection against the chill.

"Com check," Grayson said, speaking into the command circuit of his headgear with a voice muffled by his breathing mask.

"We hear you, Chief," Lori's voice answered in his headphones. She sounded . . . warm, just as Grayson was beginning to realize how cold were his feet, despite the heavy insulation of his boots. "We're recording. And we've got him targeted six ways."

"Right. Hold your positions. I'm going in."

He stepped forward again, willing his knees to continue to hold him up against one-and-a-half times his usual weight.

The speed of the Legion's victory over this Liao world had been surprising. Certainly, Lord Garth, Duke of Irian, Lord Commander of the Marik support forces in orbit above Sirius V right now, had been astonished at Grayson's last combat report. The final Liao battleline broken before the city walls,that message had stated. This world is yours, your Grace.

Some members of Grayson's regimental command staff were of the opinion that Lord Garth had been deliberately throwing the Gray Death against Liao strongholds in an effort to wear the Legion down. Indeed, this last campaign had been the roughest yet, for all its brevity. The regiment had lost over fifty combat infantry, and three of its new MechWarrior recruits. During the entire struggle, Lord Garth and the full battalion of Marik Regulars under his command had remained safely in orbit, maintaining aerospace superiority, and feeding satellite recon intel to Grayson's staff, but well beyond the reach of Liao's ground defenses.

There was nothing wrong with that, either. The Gray Death mercenaries had been hired specifically to smash Liao defenses on several key worlds such as Sirius V. From the point of view of the Marik high command, military resources were precious, and it was often cheaper to hire mercenaries to expend theirresources than to waste irreplaceable 'Mechs and equipment.

Still, it was hard to fight and die, all the while knowing that reinforcements capable of tipping the balance in your favor were only a few thousand kilometers away . . . watching it all on their long-range scanners. It was harder still to hear your own people dying beside you. Jenna Hasting's choked screams as the planet's cold and poisonous atmosphere had flooded her Centurion'scracked canopy were still raw in his ears. Sirius V was starkly and brutally unforgiving during combat in a way that even enemy MechWarriors were not. There had been very few wounded on either side during the past two weeks. Breaches, however small, in combat armor or Battle-Mech pressure walls were almost invariably fatal. When oxygen spilled into this hydrogen-rich atmosphere, and heat or a spark was added . . .

Grayson stopped ten paces away from the lone man. The other, as supplicant, gave a slight, stiff bow.

"Ambassador Gregar Chandresenkhar," the man announced formally. "Special Diplomatic Liaison of the Lyran Commonwealth to the planetary government of Sirius V and the Capellan Confederation. I have placed myself at the disposal of the Tiantan City Fathers, to act as their representative. Is that acceptable to you, sir?"

Grayson returned the bow. "Perfectly acceptable, sir. I am Colonel Grayson Carlyle, Gray Death Legion, under service to the Lord Garth, Duke of Irian, and Lord Commander of the Marik Fifth Expeditionary Force. Under all accepted conventions and protocols of war, I have the authority to treat with you, and those you represent."

"I have been directed to ask for terms," the Ambassador said. "The City Fathers are willing to concede defeat."

So. The campaign wasover. The thought held no thrill no sense of victory. It was simply that the fight was over.

"All resistance will cease everywhere on Sirius V, and throughout the Sirius system," Grayson said slowly. "All military electronics, including electronic scanning, radar, and countermeasures, are to be shut down at once. Capellan military command frequencies will be restricted to orders to cease resistance, and for emergency use alone. I am authorized to inform you that units in the service of House Marik will arrive within thirty standard hours of formal cessation of hostilities. Local civilian and government officials are to cooperate with them fully."

"Of course." That cooperation was, after all, basic to the formal protocols of war. "Is Sirius V to be permanently transferred to Free Worlds's control?"

He wants to know if this is a raid or an invasion.Grayson thought. I guess I’d want to know the same thing myself, in their boots.

He shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't know, sir. I'm sure His Grace, the Marik Lord Commander, will have his own list of demands. The City Fathers are to appoint a council to receive His Grace and the League officials to discuss their requirements."

"Is that all?"

"That is all I have for you under the flag of House Marik. I have requests to make in my own name.”

“Yes?"

"Nothing beyond the protocol of the Conventions, Mr. Ambassador. I will need supplies, repair parts, if possible, the use of local recreational facilities for my people. I will guarantee their behavior, of course."

The ambassador nodded. "I'm sure that can all be arranged. Is there more?"

"Liao troops within fifty kilometers of Tiantan are to turn over their weapons immediately. If there are no violations, there will be no need for registration or internment."

Chandresenkhar bowed again. "That is good of you, Colonel. The gesture will be appreciated."

"You understand that I cannot speak for the Lord Commander," Grayson said. "His Grace may require internment, and that is entirely within his rights under the Conventions. But until then ..." Grayson shrugged. "If Tiantan's people behave themselves, I see no reason to lock any of them up."

"I understand." The ambassador hesitated, as though listening. The man would be linked, no doubt, to the Tiantan Fathers themselves, through a commlink in his environmental suit. "Sir, the City Fathers have asked me to convey to you their complete acceptance of your terms . . . and to thank you on their behalf for your generosity. They count themselves fortunate to have been bested in war by the illustrious Grayson Death Carlyle."