“Don't think too long, my friend. Some people believe a long delay is the same as a refusal.”

“Does that mean you, Coordinator?”

“I did not say that, Colonel. Your anger is misplaced.”

Takashi turned to look out over the city. The glitter of lights soothed him a little, took the edge off his own irritation at the mercenary's stubborn wordplay.

“We are men of the same stamp. We share a view above the heads of the mob. We should be friends, Jaime Wolf.”

“Your words speak of friendship, yet you allow what has happened. Does not your philosophy teach that a man be judged by his actions as well as his words?”

“Yes.”

“So does mine.”

Takashi was stung by the rebuke.

“Think well on what has happened here today, Jaime Wolf. You are in dangerous space. There are hostile, misguided souls who might seek to wipe out what they consider a blot on the Combine's honor. In the worst event, such ... persons ... might claim to act on my behalf while taking violent action against your Dragoons.”

Wolf said nothing and showed no reaction that Takashi could detect, but the Coordinator did not bother to probe Wolf's kiaura. He had learned from their bouts on Quentin that the mercenary could defy his probes. He let the silence continue for a full minute.

“Enjoy a week here at the capital while you think about my offer. I will be available, should you wish to speak to me.

“I'll keep it in mind.”

Wolf turned and walked across the chamber to the doors, which did not open immediately. The mercenary stood stiffly until the panels had opened wide enough for a man to pass, then slipped through and was gone.

Takashi waited on the balcony until he saw Wolf and his party exit the lower level of the palace. He studied the small group as they walked swiftly through the gardens. No need to hurry, Colonel Wolf,Takashi admonished silently.

It was clear to Takashi that Wolf had been holding his thoughts under tight rein. All through the meeting, the mercenary had seemed elsewhere. Takashi knew that Wolf was wondering how much was show, how much was sincere, how much could be trusted. He had not taken the Coordinator's offer seriously. Takashi did not believe that Wolf would return to the palace.

The return trip to An Ting would take the Dragoons longer than the one that brought them to Luthien. There would be no Command Circuit JumpShips waiting to ferry their DropShip quickly from one jump point to the next, where another JumpShip would be waiting. This time, they would have to wait while their JumpShip recharged its drives at each stop along the way.

Takashi stepped back into the room long enough to look up at the ceiling and say, “Send the holofilm of the meeting to Director Indrahar.” Then he returned to his contemplation of Imperial City. This time, its glitter did not offer even the slight comfort of a few minutes before.

The Coordinator's job was a hard one. Always he was faced with the age-old conflict: ninjoor giri.It was ever a choice between his feelings for others, which was the way his heart would lead him, and the inexorable call of obligation. As Coordinator of the Draconis Combine, Takashi knew which way he must choose. Indeed, when all was said and done, he had no choice.

Giri.Duty always ruled the ruler. Hard decisions had to be made and personal feelings or desires always subordinated to the iron law of duty. He could allow nothing to endanger his realm if it were in his power to avert that danger. Fellowship had no place in a Coordinator's world, and people were only pawns in the game he played with history, pieces to be moved to improve the position of his ruling House.

It was a lonely game.

BOOK III

Duty

35

Ryuken-ni Command Center, Outside Boras, Misery

Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine

22 December 3027

 

Cold air blasted Michi Noketsuna's face as he stepped from the doorway of the mobile headquarters. He moved immediately to pull down his goggles and pull up the breath mask that would warm and humidify the chill, dry air of Misery. With hands made clumsy by overside thermal gloves, he fumbled the protective devices into place. Not a moment too soon, for the icy wind hit him with streamers of smoke and condensate steam from the engine stack as he stepped down from the vehicle. Even the heavy coldsuit could not keep Michi from shivering. Peering through the blowing snow, he could see no sign of the incoming Command Lance.

Michi leaned into the wind and headed for the vehicle shed. Though the walk to the lee of the shed was short, the frigid blast made it seem like kilometers before he finally reached the building and ducked through the open door.

Six months ago, he had been on An Ting during the cold season, but Cerant was nothing compared to this world, locked in an ice age. Why, he wondered, could not the Ryuken headquarters have been set up far to the south, in Laerdal, near the magma mines. It was true that the air there had an unpleasant, sulfurous tang, but at least it was warm.

From the shelter of the shed, Michi looked back across the field. Through the swirl of the wind-driven snow, he could see Ryuken- ni's old but recently refurbished mobile headquarters vehicle. The MHQ's internal combustion engine was new, but it would always be a poor substitute for the original fusion engine, removed long ago to use in some BattleMech. The vehicle's electronic facilities were far from the standard enjoyed by the Dragoons, but it belonged to the Ryuken. That made it superior. The MHQ bore the unit's proud symbol of a dragon coiling around a katana.It also carried the image Minobu had decreed for the regiment, a fierce feline head wearing an ancient Japanese kabutohelmet. Those two symbols made Michi proud, prouder than the serpentine dragon of the Combine did of late.

At the heavy sound of clumping feet, Michi gazed beyond the field, knowing it had to be the tread of BattleMechs. Sure enough, three dark shapes loomed in the swirling snow, coming in from the plateau beyond the MHQ.

Masked in part by the headquarters vehicle, the first machine was visible only from the waist up, and for a moment the swirl of white made it look like a snow dragon scenting for prey. The illusion was shattered as the silhouette moved completely into sight. Its blocky legs were where the snow dragon's neck should have been, the dream beast's snout resolved into the forward-jutting torso of a BattleMech, and its great ruff was transformed into the machine's humped shoulders. It was Tai-saTetsuhara's Dragon.

Michi had not been the first to imagine the dragon pattern in the DRG-1N BattleMech. The elongated configuration of its main armament, a Telos DecaCluster missile launcher, dominated the central torso. The low dome of the cockpit contributed to the saurian imagery. Many Dragon'Mechs were painted with white-fanged dragon mouths to accentuate the resemblance.

The sixty-ton BattleMech trudged through the open arch of the vehicle shed and clomped onto the striped zone next to Michi's Ostroc.A second machine followed soon after. Ice crystals sparkled from the cylindrical body and projecting horns. Tong's JaegerMechpaced into place behind the newly arrived Dragonand shuddered to a halt. Icicles, black with frozen lubricating fluid, clattered to the concrete from the paired weapons of the 'Mech's right arm.

Last in was Willoughby's 'Mech. The Pantherseemed slight next to the two heavies that had preceded it. Willoughby noticed Michi huddled by the doors and raised his 'Mech's right arm in salute. The Pantherslipped into its designated berth and became motionless as Willoughby started the shutdown procedure.