“Now go. Your procrastination is delaying the arrival of the Sword of Light. We will need their experienced warriors when the Dragoons attack.”

Minobu watched Michi leave.

The young officer had valid concerns. Despite Minobu's words, he, too, was concerned over the lack of communication with Samsonov, but there was nothing to be done. The Draconis forces onworld had their orders. With careful strategy and a little luck, they could carry out those orders even without the Warlord's participation. Minobu rejoined the group around the holotank. Some of the officers' schemes must be critiqued.

The session lasted for hours. Minobu finally called a halt, and the other officers dispersed to their quarters. Minobu remained in the command center and ran more simulations of his own until he fell asleep at the console. He didn't know how long it was before a hand on his shoulder shook him awake.

“Reconnaissance reports BattleMechs departing the Dragoon base at Farsund.” Michi looked as tired as Minobu felt. The younger officer had probably not had any sleep at all.

“They are leaving their fortifications?” Even as he asked, Minobu realized that the question was redundant. His sleep had left him groggy, slow to respond.

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“Scouts report more than four hundred.”

That roused Minobu to full awareness. “All five regiments, then. It seems that Wolf is making a grand gesture.”

“When they've moved beyond the envelope of their anti-air, we can hit them with our fighters, cut their numbers before contact with our own 'Mechs,” Michi suggested. “They'll be an easy target if the fighters can get in before today's snow. I've ordered the pilots to stand by.”

“Are the Dragoons advancing under air cover?”

“No,” Michi replied reluctantly.

“Then have our pilots stand down,” Minobu ordered. “This will be an honorable battle. We will accept the combat under the terms.”

“Is that wise?” Michi was clearly upset. “Do not our orders require victory? The Dragoons are five regiments of BattleMechs piloted by elite troops. We may outnumber them, but few of our ‘MechWarriors can match their experience. We must do what we can to gain advantage. Think of your future, Minobu-iama,” Michi warned.

When Minobu shrugged, he noticed Michi's exasperation at the gesture. The young man tried to hide his emotion, but Minobu knew him too well. “The future has no meaning to a warrior. The way of the samurai is death. Shigata ga nai.”

Michi was silent for a moment. “Do you expect to die in this battle?”

“I expect nothing.” Minobu's voice was neutral. “If it is my karma, I will die.”

Again Michi went silent, apparently considering Minobu's words. “Will you let yourself be killed?”

The pleading note in Michi's voice told Minobu that his protege feared that he had given up all hope, that he would seek death in battle to escape the problems that beset him.

“A warrior must embrace death if he is a true samurai, but that does not mean that he will throw away his life. A samurai must fight on, as long as he can advance his lord's cause. Failure to do so is dishonorable.”

“Dishonorable,” Michi echoed. “What if you survive the battle, but we are defeated?”

“If we are defeated, the situation will be most difficult. Until then, I will do all I can to my fulfill my duty and to maintain my own honor. If I survive, it will be because I have fought as a warrior should. As commander, I will have dealt honorably with my opponent. The Dictum Honoriumrequires that we treat our enemies as though they are as honorable as well. I have no doubts about Jaime Wolf's honor, and so I must deal honorably with him.

“Even in the hour of battle, he maintains his own honor.”

Michi's brows drew together, signaling his confusion at his sensei'slast comment.

“Michi-san, did you not note at what hour the Dragoon 'Mechs began to move?”

“It was midnight,” the young man said. “Wolf waited until it was finally dark before beginning his march. That's not unusual.”

“The cover of darkness had nothing to do with it, Michigan. At midnight, the Dragoon contract with House Kurita expired. Wolf and his Dragoons are now free agents.”

51

Hamar Valley , Misery

Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine

23 April 3028

 

“Cut right, West!” Dechan shouted over the taccomm.

The big Griffin shifted at his order, vacating the spot where the Kuritans were concentrating their fire. Explosions shredded the granitic extrusion, but melted snow and ice refroze almost instantly.

The Dracs had given a good account of themselves, considering that Fraser's lance had caught them by surprise. Their biggest machine, a Crusader,had been crippled in the first rush. That blow had gutted the Kuritans' firepower, and the Draconians were wavering now under the Dragons' relentless hammering.

“They're fading. Keep on the pressure. Wakeman, full spread on the leader.”

Dechan fired his own missiles, adding to the barrage from Wakeman's Trebuchet.High explosive rained down on the retreating Kurita lance. The Crusaderand another already-damaged 'Mech went down in the raging fury of the explosions. The remaining two enemy machines vanished into the rills that eons of summer meltwater had cut into the ridges of the moraine.

“Got 'em,” Wakeman crowed.

“Watch yourself and hold cover. They've still got live ones out there.”

Dechan's Shadow Hawkfollowed West's Griffin ,up to the crest of a ridge.

“What's holding you up, West? We've got Snakes to catch.”

“Take a look for yourself, Captain.” The massive right arm of West's 'Mech pointed with its hand-held Fusigon PPC.

Directing his attention that way, Dechan saw an assembly of Kurita BattleMechs about two kilometers away. The two survivors of the enemy lance were hightailing it straight to their buddies.

“So that's where the rest of their battalion is.”

“Too many for us without support, Captain.”

“We're not supposed to beat them, West. Just find them. We're on a good, old-fashioned recon mission.”

“Why? Why don't we just put some of the DropShips up? Make those flyboys earn their pay.”

“We're doing it this way because that's how the Colonel wants it.”

“Seems bassackward to me,” West groused. “The Colonel must have a good reason.”

“Well, he didn't tell me.”

“He didn't tell me, either, but that don't change anything. We still got a job to do.”

The two 'Mechs backed down the ridge, moving slowly to avoid attracting the enemy's attention. Once blocked from view, they picked up speed and headed for the fallen Kuritan BattleMechs, where Gatlin's Ostscoutwas standing over the Crusader.

“What's the salvage?” Dechan asked.

“It's better than salvage, Boss,” Gatlin replied. “We've got a live one over here.”

“You can fix that with a stomp of your dainty little foot,” Wakeman suggested. “It'll be one less Snake to bother with.”

“Ease off, Calvin. According to the markings on the cockpit, this Jock's an officer,” Gatlin announced. “I don't exactly con the rank, but it's at least battalion level.”

“Then we've got ourselves a prize,” Dechan concluded.

“West, get over there and winkle that Draconian out. The Colonel will want to have a chat with him. Gatlin, watch your sensors. Target Wakeman on anything that gets too curious about us.”

BattleMechs moved to his command, but not fast enough. The Kurita battalion could be headed their way. Unity! He should have left somebody on watch at the ridge. But then, he hadn't known that they would be spending time acquiring a prisoner. “Come on, West. I want us on the road.”