As her foot flicked out again, Phelan caught her ankle and kissed it. "As always, Ranna, you know far better than I what is possible and impossible."

"Had I visited this place before you won your Blood-name and became a Khan, I would have said it was impossible for this environment to produce a warrior such as you."

"Why?" Phelan allowed himself a wry grin. "The Hounds may not be Wolf's Dragoons and Arc-Royal may not be Outreach, but the Kell Hounds were always considered one of the top mercenary units in the Inner Sphere."

"As you have said on more than one occasion, my love." Ranna reached out with her right leg and tickled his stomach with her toes. "It is just that this place is so different from the kind of sibko in which I grew up. The caretakers assigned to us were very conscientious about their jobs, but they never showed us the degree of love and affection that your parents show you. I see it in your mother's eyes and hear it in your father's voice. It is why they try to accept me and my place in your life."

Ranna's voice dropped off. Phelan squeezed her knee gently. "Yes, this is much different than the way the Clans select their warriors even before birth. Your very genetic makeup is determined according to the past performance of your sires, the way thoroughbred bloodlines are maintained to produce great racing horses. You are raised in a sibko and constantly tested to winnow out the losers in the genetic lottery. You are focused on attaining the goal of becoming a warrior—an admirable goal, yes— but your training and testing almost preclude the development of strong interpersonal attachments."

"It is something more than that, Phelan." Ranna frowned. "In the sibko everyone watches for errors and failures. They plot ways to test for weaknesses. Everything is designed to maximize the potential for failure. If one of our blood kin dies, it casts aspersion on both the bloodline and the individual.

"Here, though, the opposite seems true. I went to the cemetery where you bury and honor your dead. The Kell Hounds provide housing and schooling for the dependents of those who have died in battle. They do things for the offspring of the fallen that the Clans would never consider because of the stigma of failure those offspring bear."

Ranna's teeth raked across her lower lip. "The Hounds' attitude is so alien to me. Though most of those I have met obviously consider you a traitor, they still admire your willingness to engage in a simulator battle. They want to hate you, yet are willing to grant you respect. They want to integrate the person you are now with what they remember of you from before your capture."

"You're right, and I want them to be able to do that." Phelan sighed heavily and shook his head. "That's why I chose Mark to be in my Star. As a boy he was always a bit of an annoyance because he followed me around a lot. When I left for the Nagelring, I promised to keep a slot open for him in whatever lance I ended up commanding. I knew I'd face resentment when I came here, but it hurts having it come from a member of the family. " He looked over at her. "You're not getting the same sort of thing from him are you, quineg?"

Ranna shook her head, suppressing a yawn with her fist. "No, not at all. In fact, your family has been more than friendly to me." Ranna plucked at her leather uniform skirt. "In fact, Caitlin suggested that this uniform was hardly suitable for the banquet and has offered to take me shopping tomorrow after this battle you have arranged. I told her I would think it over, though I do not understand what is wrong with my present kit."

"I think that you should go, Ranna. Steiner royalty has always placed an inordinate value on high fashion, even for its military officers. We should attempt to respect their customs. "

"Fine. I will suggest to Evantha Fetladral that she also attempt to honor these customs."

Visions of the two-and-a-half meter tall Elemental being loaded down with boxes after an expedition to the shops of Old Connaught flicked through Phelan's mind. Smiling at the thought, he patted Ranna on the leg. "Tomorrow we will shoot up their 'Mechs, then you'll be free."

Ranna looked warily at Phelan. "I gather you assume we will defeat them?"

"Your question borders on treason, Star Captain."

"Does it? Apparently you underestimate our foes. Captain Moran's company may be only medium weight, but they pack mostly missile boats. Besides that, they have already fought against the Nova Cats and Smoke Jaguars, so they are familiar with our tactics and equipment."

"Michelle Moran does not worry me. She is, and always has been, a tenacious fighter, but she never withdraws from a fight until a bit too late. She believes that one more exchange will win the day, and it tends to cost her."

Ranna mulled that fact over for a moment, then nodded. "What about Prince Victor? He and Shin Yodama were both on Teniente."

"I expect Galen Cox to give me the measure of Yodama. As for Victor, well, getting his goat was never much of a problem when we were children. Once Victor is angry, he stops thinking at all. You can take him easily."

Ranna bowed her head. "My Khan is so gracious." She slipped her leg off the top of his, eluding his attempt to grab and tickle her foot. "What of Kai Allard-Liao? Even if what we heard from the Jade Falcons has been grossly exaggerated, his position as the reigning champion on Solaris does suggest that he is a foe more than worthy of respect."

Phelan nodded slowly. "It's odd, but when I was a child I heard lots of speculation about who would have won in a battle between my father and Kai's father. Justin Allard had also been the Solaris champion, and my father, well, he is a very rare pilot indeed. Someone once did a computer projection of the battle, arranging it under Solaris-type conditions."

"Who won?"

"Depended on which time the battle was run. All the fights ran for a longtime and both 'Mechs were hammered by the time one could not continue. I think a series of a hundred bouts resulted in Justin Allard winning 53 to 47. Some folks pointed out that if the situation were reversed and the battles were in the field—the way my father fought most often—the results would have been reversed as well. Both men were offered money to actually fight it out in a simulator battle, but they refused. On the other hand I heard a rumor that at Dan Allard's wedding to my half-sister Megan, Justin and my father did actually use simulators to test each other."

"And?"

"Replacing the computer's burned-out logic boards was expensive."

"I see, I think. So, in your parlance, the sins of the fathers will fall to the sons?"

"Right, Kai's mine." Phelan cracked his knuckles. "Once I've dealt with him, I can start to make amends for having offended people tonight."

"A wise plan, my Khan," she teased.

"Have you any ideas in that department, Star Captain?"

Ranna pursed her lips, then nodded. "You could start by giving me a kiss."

Phelan scooped his arms under her knees and pulled her toward him. Leaning forward, he rested his hands on either side of her head and used his body to press her flat on the couch. "And after that?" He kissed her.

She kissed him back. "Another kiss and another. The rest of my ideas can wait until morning."

7

Arc-Royal

Federated Commonwealth