* * * *

With hands clasped behind his back, Nagumo watched the dying glow in the sky to the southeast. The warehouse fire had been stubborn and fierce, an explosive blaze among the tanks of azelwax stored there. A lance of Third Strike Regiment ‘Mechs had finally got it under control using SRMs tipped with foam bombs. Damage had been confined to the warehouse and the buildings immediately adjacent. The whole affair was unremarkable and he would not even have been called out of bed, except that...

Security forces closing off the block had caught sight of a pair of men fleeing the area. When the force commander had given pursuit, the pair had turned on their pursuers and opened fire with handguns. In the brief firefight, one of the fugitives had been killed, the other cornered and captured. Two security personnel had been wounded in the struggle.

So, the fire had been set deliberately. That was not so unusual, for anti-Combine violence had increased in Regis over the past year or two. What had piqued Nagumo's interest was the fact that his men had found a small, personal transceiver on their prisoner, and it was of a type manufactured and sold on another world. That might not have been so unusual, either. High-tech items such as transceivers and comlinks were favorite trade items for cargo because they were low-bulk and high-profit. What did interest Nagumo was the trademark on this particular radio. It showed that the transceiver had been manufactured on Galatea, the planet that some called Mercenary's Star.

This incident, coupled with the fact that rebel emissaries from Verthandi had recently hired mercenaries on Galatea, was disquieting. It meant that the rebels operating in Regis were in touch with the rebels in the jungle. It also meant that rebels had started the warehouse fire. Under whose orders? From where? Within the city? Or from out of the jungle?

The mystery had deepened after close inspection proved that the Galatean radio was not working. The microsoldering on the power-board was shoddy, and a broken circuit blocked incoming transmissions. Perhaps the radio had been intended only to alert someone else that the job was done? Or had the rebels simply not bothered to test their equipment before setting out on their mission?

What was their mission? Why destroy a warehouse filled with highly flammable azelwax at the southeast corner of Regis? There was no military value in the oily wax, though it did burn brightly. The owners of the wax had no connection with the occupying forces, and so revenge or terrorism was an unlikely motive. Why, then? That question had brought a sleepless Nagumo to his office, had moved him to wake Dr. Vlade and the other members of his interrogation team so that they could begin getting the answers from the prisoner as quickly as possible.

His desktop communicator chirruped at him. When Nagumo touched the receiver switch, Vlade's features appeared on the screen. There were stray flecks of blood on the psychiatrist's face, and the sleeves of his white smock were heavily stained. The doctor, Nagumo decided, must have been personally involved in the interrogation.

"Well?"

"My Lord, it is as you thought. The subject was working under the direction of rebel forces based in the jungle. His orders came from a woman he knows only as 'Carlotta'."

"Where is this rebel base?"

"He didn't know. Lord."

"You're certain of that?"

"My Lord, the subject broke completely. He withheld nothing from us." Vlade's mouth worked in what could have been a smile. "What he did knowwas much more important, however. The fire was a diversion for a rebel attack. The attack was to take place tonight. Right now, in fact, shortly before 0200."

"Now?"

"He was certain of the time, my Lord. He was surprised that the rebel ‘Mechs had not already struck. The diversion was to be at 0100, the attack at 0145."

"Rebel ‘Mechs!"

"Yes, Lord. He did not know how many or where they were to strike. He knew only that a number of BattleMechs organized into a unit called the 'Free Verthandi Rangers' were to move into position while the warehouse fire distracted our units in Regis and momentarily blinded our IR-scanning satellites."

Nagumo's brows rose, questioning. "There's been no sign of enemy activity."

"Perhaps the rebels called off the attack, but the people charged with setting the fire didn't get the word."

"Possibly," Nagumo said. "The broken radio might indicate that. Certainly, it means they couldn't warn their comrades that they'd been captured."

"There might have been other rebel agents watching."

"Yes." Nagumo stroked his graying mustache with one finger, pondering.

"One thing more, my Lord. There was a code phrase he was to transmit once the job was done.”

“What was it?"

"The words 'false dawn'. He named a microwave frequency. Obviously, they were unable to transmit."

Nagumo nodded, his eyes cold. "Well done, Doctor. Finish up there and go back to bed."

Vlade bowed. "Thank you, my Lord." The Governor General broke the connection.

An attack called off or mis-timed by faulty communications? The possibility was intriguing. He opened another line on his communicator. "Get me the DWO."

Seconds later, a black-uniformed officer appeared on screen. "Duty Watch Officer, Major Ralston. Yes, my Lord General?"

"I have reason to believe that an enemy ‘Mech force is planning an assault on Regis tonight. They may already be moving into position. Double your perimeter security, and organize roving patrols to check out the Bluesward."

"Enemy ‘Mechs, my Lord? But...yes, my Lord. At once, sir!"

"Do we have recon satellite coverage of the Regis area tonight?"

"Partial coverage. Lord. The cloud cover is heavy, but intermittent."

"Pay particular attention to satellite reconnaissance data...everything in the general area of Regis within the past two hours. Burn a satellite to bring it in on a quicker pass if you have to, but get it done. It could be that the warehouse fire in Regis was set partly to dazzle our recon sats' infra-red imaging. I'd like to know what it is they don't want us to see."

"At once. Lord General!"

Moments later, Nagumo heard the distance-muted rasp of an alarm sounding through the building as the Draconis forces were put on yellow alert. Smiling to himself, he sat down in his chair, put his booted feet up on his desk, and waited.

17

Thorvald scowled in growing anxiety at the Warhammer'scommo set. The verification signal had been transmitted: false dawn.

But why now? It was still ten minutes before two, and he'd not been expecting the verification for another ten or fifteen minutes at least. How had the people in Regis managed to get his orders so turned around?

The other ‘Mechs were climbing up out of the gully, which was quite shallow this close to the outskirts of Regis. They gathered now alongside his Warhammer.The University towers were clearly visible from here, black against a lighter sky, with pinpoints of lights visible here and there. The wall loomed below. They could see no sign of the fire, but perhaps it would not be visible clear across the expanse of Regis.

Down below, silent shapes flitted through the shadows. Elements of the rebel army had been gathering for the past hours, waiting for the arrival of his ‘Mechs, but no doubt wondering why they were so late. Thorvald cursed the need for radio silence. All that was possible were short, highly directional bursts.