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Pascia Grove (West of Horatius)

Planting, Jade Falcon Occupation Zone

13 November 3050

The only warning that Alpha Battalion got of the Clan attack was a hurricane barrage of LRMs, followed by two volleys of Arrow IV artillery missiles. Both attacks were unguided and fired blindly, but that wasn't much comfort to the Sentinels.

Max Canis-Vlata had the canopy of his Battlemaster open, taking in the fresh air when the first missiles hit. He hurriedly closed it as one Arrow IV landed behind him—luckily, well behind him, but he still felt the 85-ton 'Mech rock with the shockwave of detonation. He tightened the straps and checked the damage readout; the Battlemaster had taken some shrapnel damage, but there were no penetrations in the tough assault 'Mech's rear armor. The volley ended, and branches, dirt and leaves were still falling when Max got on the radio. "Highlander Six to Highlander elements, check in now." He had to make sure his lance was all right.

"Three," Juan Siembieda checked in.

"Four." That was Peter-James Mader.

Max was about to repeat the call for Highlander Two when Charles Badaxe's voice came up on the line. "Two here. Sorry, boss—I was taking a leak. Had to dog the hatch shut." Max smiled, remembering what had happened to him on Twycross. He looked around through the Battlemaster's bubble canopy and saw Badaxe's Atlas over to his right, right where his new lancemate was supposed to be. Badaxe was a new guy, one of those that had joined up since Persistence, and the deceased Micajah Ballew's replacement. If the Clans were coming, this would be his first engagement. Have to keep an eye on him. Max didn't know Badaxe, though he strongly suspected that was not the young blond-haired man's real name; the fact that he brought a pristine Atlas into the lance led Max to believe there was a noble somewhere missing an heir.

Max switched frequencies to the company net to check in with his mother, who would be some distance behind him. There was no response, and he heard no one else able to get through to her. Fear clawed at his throat until he heard the voice of his father, Todd. "All Alpha elements, this is Cuirrassier Six. Lancer Six is okay; she just lost her antennas. I'll be assuming command." Max blew out his breath in relief; Mira was okay, but without any way to communicate except tightbeam, she wouldn't be able to fight her company, leaving it up to Todd. Max felt confident: his father was a lot of things, but incompetent was not one of them. And since he stopped drinking…

"Alpha/1 elements, Inniskilling Six. Contact report. Two lances of enemy 'Mechs, crossing the river to our front. Looks to be ten 'Mechs, assaults and heavies. Falling back now." Pascia Grove was dense woods, but Max could see the four light 'Mechs of the Inniskillings lance, Alpha/1's scout lance, falling back. They would not survive long against Clan heavy OmniMechs, so Lance Commander Tom Fiordur was getting them out of there.

Unfortunately, that meant that Max's heavier 93rd Highlanders lance would need to move up, both to plug the line and meet the Clan attack. He took a deep breath now, willed his pounding heart to stop, and gave the order to advance. You'd think I'd be used to this, he thought to himself. He checked his flanks and switched a multifunction display to face behind. Everyone in his lance was where they were supposed to be: Badaxe to his right, Siembieda's Charger to his left, and Mader's Marauder covering the rear. Siembieda's Charger was luckily modified from the standard, almost useless CGR-1A; it was slower, but carried a large laser and some medium lasers instead of the usual five popgun small lasers. The forest began to thin, and Max knew he was getting near the river. He still could not see much, even as the weight of his Battlemaster knocked down smaller trees.

Then all at once there was a torrent of fire as the Jade Falcons fired, beyond the range Max could respond to. Trees were cut in half or exploded as they were hit, but to Max's surprise, none of his lance seemed to take damage. He noticed explosions to his right, and saw that the two lances next to him—the 1st and 5th Dragoon Guards, of Alpha Battalion's 2nd Company—were taking the brunt of it. Okay, Max thought, we'll swing around and take the bastards in flank—

Then he saw them coming out of the river: there were only four instead of the normal five, and Max didn't know if the fifth had looked for another target or the Clan unit was understrength. Either way, as usual, the Jade Falcons picked their opponents: two Thors went after Siembieda and Mader, while a much larger, vaguely humanoid-looking 'Mech went after Badaxe. Max remembered the threat briefing they had gotten before the landing: this was a Gladiator, a 95-ton monster that could actually jump and chase down light 'Mechs. Then he had to concentrate on his opponent, another design that Max had never seen before: it looked similar to the Gladiator, but was slightly different—what the AFFC had codenamed the Man O'War. At 80 tons, it was faster than his Battlemaster, but not as well-armored. They would be evenly matched. Max hated to play the Clans' game, but he had to take care of the Man O'War before he could help his lancemates.

The Clan warrior closed in, bringing up both arms, which ended in slim barrels. Max tracked his PPC around, but the Man O'War fired first. To his surprise, the impact of the autocannon shells were not as bad as he thought it would be. Missiles followed, but while these cracked and smashed armor plate, the tough Battlemaster easily held. His damage monitor showed only minor damage to the 'Mech's chest and left arm. The Jade Falcon warrior seemed as surprised as Max was, and the 'Mech itself seemed to hesitate.

Max didn't. He pulled both triggers. Heat washed through the cockpit, raising sweat on his limbs, but the PPC, four medium lasers, and the SRM-6 did a lot more damage to the Man O'War. Armor buckled and sagged on the broad chest of the OmniMech, as the missiles spiraled in to hit the legs. The Clan warrior abruptly began to fall back, as both they and Max now knew that the Man O'War had the wrong configuration for this sort of fighting. Max pressed his advantage. Not so tough now that I'm in my actual 'Mech, huh? he thought with satisfaction.

They exchanged fire a few more times, Max keeping one eye on the heat scale as the Battlemaster began to overheat. The Man O'War peppered him with fire that Max didn't even bother to dodge: the Jade Falcon MechWarrior was hitting more than Max was, but Max was doing more damage, and 80 tons or not, the Man O'War was simply not built for this kind of close-in brawl. The Jade Falcon edged back towards the river, then stumbled when the 'Mech tripped backwards over a group of splintered stumps. Max saw his chance, pushed both pedals down and charged the Man O'War. He twisted the control sticks, making the Battlemaster twist slightly and put its shoulder into the Clan 'Mech. There was a loud sound of collision that rang through the forest, but the Man O'War, already unbalanced, fell backwards into the river. The Duranter was deep enough here to cover the 'Mech completely, and though Max waited a moment, the Man O'War remained submerged; Max figured that either the Clan warrior was playing dead, or the water had flooded through one of the many holes in the armor and short-circuited something important. Either way, it was at least temporarily out of the fight, so Max retreated back into the forest and looked for his lance. "Highlander Six to Highlanders, sitrep!"

"Highlander Two! I'm doing okay!" Badaxe sounded out of breath, but not afraid. Max looked over and saw the Atlas and the Gladiator duking it out at close range, with honors even: the Atlas was badly carved and scored with laser hits, but the Gladiator's armor was shattered in several places and it was limping, testament to Badaxe hitting it with the Atlas' AC/20.

"Highlander Four. Three's down, but he punched out. He's okay. I could use some help. Still engaged." Mader sounded calm, but Max headed in that direction. He was still fighting the Thor, but of the other one there was no sign; Max saw Siembieda's Charger down, smoking holes in its torso, but the cockpit hatch was gone. Somewhere above all this, Siembieda was floating down in a parachute, which was still a good way to get killed, as he was going to land in the middle of a 'Mech fight. He needs to get a better 'Mech, Max thought idly, and went to help Mader, putting Siembieda out of his mind for now. It was cruel, but it was war.

As he fired the PPC at the Thor, he saw a Locust come out of nowhere and start taking potshots at the Thor's rear with its medium laser. Where did he come from—oh. Max saw the crest on the untouched Locust: it was one of the Inniskilling's 'Mechs. Fiordur was committing his lights to harrass the Clans. The Thor doggedly tried to ignore both the Locust and Max, as they ganged up on the Clan 'Mech in Inner Sphere style. Finally, as the Locust got a shot in that melted through some of the rear armor, the Thor jumped away, trying to put some distance between himself and his three opponents. Max turned to help Badaxe, but saw the Gladiator stumbling backwards as the Atlas planted a fist through the Clan 'Mech's right shoulder. This was the kind of wild brawl that the Sentinels trained for and preferred, and Max could tell that the Jade Falcons were having trouble with it. "Looks like we're winning," Max said aloud.

Then he heard the radio call that sent ice through every Sentinel's veins: "ENEMY 'MECHS TO OUR REAR!"

---

Star Captain Senefa was grinning widely as she jumped the river in her Thor. She always wore this expression in combat, though she was unaware of doing so; had someone told her, Senefa would have been deeply embarrassed, as she kept a very close rein on her emotions. Then again, Senefa had a good reason to smile: her attack had worked perfectly.

She had "borrowed" a Star from Roshak's two Trinaries, who were still reorganizing for their next attack, then sent that Star and her Assault Star across the river in a direct, frontal attack. It was a feint, though it had enough weight to break through if it could. She even called in an artillery strike to make the Sentinels think it was the real attack. Meanwhile, she took her other two Stars—her Command Star and Medium Star—and used a low ridge to conceal their movement. Once the Sentinels had engaged her other two Stars, she launched the actual attack, crossing the river, moving into the forest and crashing into the Sentinels' left flank.

Senefa landed at the river's opposite bank in a spray of water. The Sentinels reacted faster than she thought, and a Firestarter gamely attacked her, despite being vastly outgunned and outweighed. The light 'Mech melted armor with its medium lasers and then splashed flame across the Thor's middle. Senefa brought up one arm to protect the cockpit from the flamers, then lowered it and fired in one fluid motion. The Ultra AC/20 in that arm roared and cut the Firestarter in half at the waist, tearing the gyro and the upper legs to pieces. The upper half of the 'Mech fell backwards and landed upright, looking like it was standing in a deep trench, while the remains of the Firestarter's two legs collapsed to either side. Senefa moved past the half-wrecked 'Mech and looked for a new target, but then an alarm went off as she suffered rear armor damage. She turned the Thor and saw another red beam sizzle past, as the Firestarter continued to fight. Senefa raised her ER-Large Laser and carefully blew off one of the light 'Mech's arms. She then keyed her external speakers. "You are a brave warrior. Do not fire again. I do not want to kill you." The Inner Sphere warrior had been brave, taking a Firestarter against a Thor, and Senefa did not want to kill someone with that kind of courage. The Firestarter pilot got the message and did not fire again as Senefa once more turned her back and loped out of the woods and into the open, following her two Stars into the Sentinels' rear.

---

Duranter Ridge (South of Horatius)

Planting, Jade Falcon Occupation Zone

13 November 3050

"ENEMY 'MECHS TO OUR REAR!"

The sudden shout over the open frequency instantly took Calla's attention off the battle for Horatius. Someone shot back to shut up and identify themselves, but then the calls began to overlap each other, and Calla knew something was very wrong. The calls seemed to be mostly from Alpha Battalion, so he turned his Battlemaster and looked in that direction. Smoke was rising from Pascia Grove, both the white of burning trees and the black of burning 'Mechs. "Lancer Six, Sentinel Actual, come in." There was no response from Mira. He repeated it. The voices on the radio were getting frantic, and he could not break in; the radio messages were overriding each other, and though Calla thought he heard Todd Canis-Vlata trying to get control of the situation, Calla could see 'Mechs beginning to fall back out of Pascia Grove. His left flank was in danger of disintegrating—if it hadn't already.

Finally Todd broke through the din of voice. "Sentinel Actual, Cuirrassier Six! We're being hit by a reinforced company—I think! Lancer Six is nordo!" Calla translated that: no radio. Mira had lost communications. Todd tried to transmit again, only to be overridden by jamming again. Shit, Calla thought. Whoever the Jade Falcon commander was, Cavell Malthus or not, Calla had underestimated him. One of his battalions was fighting at Horatius, pinned by the Clan attack there, while another was swinging around to flank him. Smart move, Calla thought. And I walked right into that. I forgot how damn fast they are. He knew that, with the Clans' superior firepower, a reinforced company was a match for Alpha Battalion. He still had Ceta Battalion in reserve, but Calla had sent that unit towards Horatius to exploit Beta's breakthrough when it happened. It would take a few minutes to shift the battalion ninety degrees to the west, minutes Calla didn't have.

Then things got even worse. Calla saw the 'Mechs of Alpha Battalion not just retreating from Pascia Grove, but running from it, turning around and pushing their 'Mechs to full speed to get away from the Clans, who Calla could see now, already among the Sentinels. There was still a fight going on within the forest, but the Jade Falcons had turned a retreat into a rout.

Still, he had one card to play. "Alpha Charlie Six, Sentinel Actual. Take your company and form a hasty defense along the road. Try to rally anyone retreating from the Grove. Buy me some time to get Ceta turned around. Go!"

"Sentinel Actual, Alpha Charlie, on our way!" Sheila called back, and Calla watched her go, suddenly realizing with a mixture of fear and self-loathing that he had just used his own daughter like a pawn.

---

Sheila ran the Shruiken up to full speed, mouting obscenities with an acid tongue inherited from her father. The Sentinels were losing, again, and that infuriated her. She was tired of losing. Even more aggravating was that the Sentinels were just running away, not even trying to turn and fight an enemy they probably outnumbered. Some of the Sentinel 'Mechs coming towards her weren't even damaged. Worst of all, they were abandoning Max, who was still somewhere in Pascia Grove.

A Wolverine was out in front, far ahead of the main group, at full speed. There was no damage on it that she could see. Sheila put the Shruiken in front of it, and saw the crest and tactical marking on the chest of the 'Mech. "Brunswick Four, Alpha Charlie Six! Hold up!" Luckily, the Clans' jamming didn't extend this far. She pointed with the Shruiken's weapon arm towards the road behind her. "Head for the road and rally there!"

The Wolverine just moved around her. "Fuck you!" the MechWarrior shouted. "I'm not getting paid enough to die!"

Sheila's temper blew. She swung the Shruiken's fist and hit the Wolverine in the shoulder. The surprised the pilot, and the other 'Mech almost fell, stumbling comically until the MechWarrior regained control. The sudden violence and the appearance of a company of fresh Sentinel 'Mechs temporarily arrested the rout, and Sheila knew she had to do something, quick. What would Dad do? Inspiration struck. "Where the hell do you think you're going, Sentinels?" she shouted over the open channel. "Did someone give a fucking order to retreat? Did they?" No one responded. "You fucking assholes! You call yourselves Sentinels?" She half-expected one of them to shoot her, but even the Wolverine had stopped. She pointed towards Pascia Grove. "There are Sentinels in there that are fucking dying! And you're running off like a bunch of fucking pussies! You miserable motherfuckers!" She moved the Shruiken forward. "My company and I are going in there. You can follow like warriors or run away like gutless fucking cowards. Out of my way. Alpha Charlies, follow me."

The Sentinel 'Mechs parted, moving aside to let Sheila and her lance through. Suddenly there was a Wasp beside her; it wore Ceta Battalion markings and the name Tasunke-Ciqala on the right arm, just short of the medium laser. Sheila recognized the name: it was Tessya Blackthorn's 'Mech, and behind her was her lance of other lights. "Alpha Charlie, Buffalo Six! We're with you!" Blackthorn motioned her lance forward. "Hoka hey!"

The other Sentinels wavered for a second, then in ones and twos, began turning around, forming back into lances, and following Sheila into the counterattack.

Senefa had stopped firing her weapons for the most part, contenting herself with a large laser shot now and then, not aimed at any particular enemy 'Mech, but just keeping the rout going. She let her warriors hunt down and kill anything that was too slow to get away. Senefa's two Stars would sweep forward to the road, and then probably move into Pascia Grove to finish off the resistance there. The Sentinels might rally by then, or they might not.

Senefa was still mulling this over when the decision was made for her.

Her leading Star of mediums, who had already killed three 'Mechs and was hungry for more, had itself gotten disorganized as the Jade Falcons cut off the slower 'Mechs, and none of them noticed the Sentinel counterattack until it was right on top of them. The first line of four lances opened fire: it wasn't a particularly effective volley, but it got the Jade Falcons' attention. Senefa saw more 'Mechs behind those and knew it was her turn to retreat, before the weight of numbers overran her. Oh, freebirth, Senefa sighed to herself.

---

Sheila knew she had to keep the momentum of her sudden charge going, so she didn't bother slowing down to engage a particular target. She saw a Fenris, fired both PPCs at it, and kept moving forward at full speed. The Sentinels behind her were now running as well, propelled by anger and embarassment for being so easily routed. They fired very little, and simply crashed into the Jade Falcons. The radio net was once more jammed, but this time it was with bloodcurdling war cries, shouts, screams, and curses in several languages. The Sentinels were no longer lances and companies, but an armed mob out for blood.

Sheila saw snippets of the battle as she tried to make sure the charge didn't go too far and get overextended, as the Jade Falcons' had. The Fenris she had fired at unwisely tried to countercharge, ran into the middle of two lances, and was blown apart by concentrated fire from eight 'Mechs. A Loki pulled back and fired a cloud of LRMs at Drax's Phoenix Hawk, staggering it, only to be engaged by a Victor, who blew the Loki's arm off with a shot from its AC/20. A Mad Cat shot down an Ostroc which foolishly got too close. Sheila was bracketed by lasers from another Fenris, jumped to get room as she returned fire with the PPCs, and landed squarely next to a Mad Cat. Both MechWarriors visibly jumped as they were surprised by the other's sudden appearance, but as both turned to engage, the Mad Cat was hit by three PPCs from an Awesome and went down. It was not mortally damaged and tried to rise, only for an Axeman to land next to it, rip into the fallen Clan 'Mech's armor with lasers and missiles, and then the hatchet fell, smashing through one of the missile launchers as the Axeman's MechWarrior screamed unintelligibly with bloodlust. Sheila saw another Loki drop an onrushing Quickdraw, only to be smashed into by a Phoenix Hawk. The Loki fell, and an entire lance of Sentinel 'Mechs surrounded it, kicking the Jade Falcon in what MechWarriors referred to as a gang initiation.

---

Senefa blasted a Stinger that had very unwisely tried to jump behind her, tearing the little 'Mech apart with her last Ultra AC/20 shot. "Freebirth," she mused aloud. "This is worse than a Grand Melee." Those engagements were fought at close range, but with weapons; the Spherians were fighting with a savagery that was not to be believed. The Jade Falcons were not trained for this, and it was unnerving. All Clan MechWarriors prided themselves on being fearless, but being beaten to death inside their own 'Mechs was terrifying.

Senefa knew it was time to admit defeat, as much as it grated on her. "Goddess Bravo One to all Bravo elements. Fall back to the river immediately. Rally there." Her warriors began to pull back, using their superior speed to break contact. She saw the Sentinels surge forward, only for a design she didn't recognize start moving its arms, clearly trying to get control. An officer, Senefa thought. I should kill them…that could turn the tide back to our advantage.

"Goddess Bravo, this is Bravo Four One." Sheila saw that next to her was the battered Thor of her oldest warrior, Star Commander Kazumi. "Look beyond the melee."

She did, and saw what looked to be almost a full battalion. These 'Mechs were not in the mobs of the first Sentinel line, but organized into companies. As she watched, they swung out of marching column into line. Stravag. Too many. She hit the radio button. "Goddess Bravo One to all Goddess elements. Fall back behind the river. Expedite."

A new voice crackled in her helmet. "Goddess Bravo One, Falcon One." It was Cavell Malthus. "Sitrep."

"Falcon One, I am retreating back behind the river; I am facing at least four companies to my front and have suffered approximately ten percent casualties. I can hold them at the river long enough for Goddess Alpha One to attack."

"Goddess Bravo One, Goddess Alpha One's attack has failed." She could hear the anger in Malthus' voice. "Fall back to Fairfields when across the river. Out."

Damn that Roshak. Senefa obeyed, using her jumpjets to get clear. So did several other of her warriors. They left behind eight of their comrades. As she made the final jump back to the river, she spotted the strange 'Mech again. It had stopped the sudden counterattack, wisely not pursuing Senefa and risking losing the victory they had gained. Senefa raised a weapon arm in salute, though she doubted the Spherian saw her. "Enjoy this," she whispered. "You will not get many more."

---

"They're retreating!" someone yelled over the open net.

"Well, hell, let's go after them!" someone else exclaimed.

"Alpha Charlie to all Sentinel elements!" Sheila snapped. "Hold formation! That's an order!" She saw Tessya's Wasp, somehow undamaged. "Buffalo Six, Alpha Charlie, put forward a skirmish line and trail the Clans to the river. Don't engage, just shadow."

"Roger that."

Sheila saw that Tessya was short a 'Mech, so she ordered Drax to follow her. A Warhammer walked up to Sheila, who recognized it as Dan Ormiston's 'Mech, the new commander of Ceta Battalion. "Boxer Six to Alpha Charlie Six. Your orders were to rally at the road, not lead a counterattack!" Ormiston's voice was filled with amusement.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, Boxer Six."

"What for, Alpha Charlie? Go into the Grove and try to find Lancer Six or Curiassier Six. I'll take over here. Bravo Zulu, Alpha Charlie." Sheila couldn't help but break into a grin at that. Bravo Zulu was radio shorthand for Well Done.

"Thanks, Boxer." Sheila turned, saw Kaatha and looked for Drax, then remembered she had sent him with Blackthorn. Her command lance was still short someone after Max had returned to his unit. Oh shit, Max. Sheila couldn't believe she had forgotten him in the melee. She spotted Tooriu Kku, his Awesome standing over the fallen Mad Cat, and radioed for him to join her.

Pascia Grove had been torn apart, but that made it even tougher to navigate, because now there were blown down trees and pieces of 'Mechs everywhere. There didn't seem to be any firing, which meant the Clan warriors here had retreated as well, but there were always stragglers. Armor plates glittered like glass shards in the sunlight, and she stepped over arms, legs, and myomer bundles. They passed two wrecked Sentinel 'Mechs, but both were missing canopies or egress hatches, so their MechWarriors had bailed out. Finally, they came upon other Sentinel 'Mechs, all of them in various states of damage, and Sheila spotted a group of Sentinel MechWarriors, hudded behind a huge fallen tree—the pilots who had ejected.

She didn't see Max, even as she spotted Todd's Crusader and reported in. He hadn't seen his son either.

"Alpha Charlie Six, Gray Four," Tooriu radioed. "Contact front. One 'Mech, slow. Negative IFF."

Uh oh, Sheila thought. "Stand by to engage." She raised the Shruiken's PPC arm. Tooriu stood next to her, while Kaatha, without being ordered, swung out to flank the new target. There was an intact line of trees between her and the contact, along with smoke from a burning Thor, the upper torso and head of which were gone.

"Sentinel 'Mechs at Pascia Grove, this is Highlander Six." Sheila's heart leapt at the sound of Max's voice. "Lost comms, trying tightbeam. Hold fire. Please."

"Highlander Six, Alpha Charlie Six. Advance and be recognized." It could be a Clan warrior trying radio games, though Sheila doubted it.

Sure enough, a Battlemaster shouldered its way through the trees. It had seen better days. No part of the 'Mech had not been hit, except for the head, and even the canopy had been starred by something. The PPC was wreckage, but Max held the arm of a Clan Omni in the other hand, clearly having used it for bludgeoning. He drew close as the others lowered their weapons, and Sheila could see him wave through the canopy. "Hi, honey, I'm home."

Horatius

Planting, Jade Falcon Occupation Zone

14 November 3050

Calla Bighorn-Vlata looked over the large map spread out on the table in front of him, then the satellite reconnaissance pictures scattered around its periphery. The latter showed the Jade Falcons steadily falling back towards Fairfields, where there were cargo barges waiting for them. It didn't take a military genius to know where they were going: the Jade Falcons would evacuate across Blackett Strait to the Tri-Cities, where they could join the Choyer Garrison Cluster in holding off the 20th Arcturan Guards on the Tel Akbir Peninsula. Calla would have to bring down his DropShips and either execute a combat drop across the Strait outside of Clan fighter range with the 50th Heavy Cavalry Battalion of the Eridani Light Horse, or walk his 'Mechs under Blackett Strait—which was always an iffy proposition that few MechWarriors liked doing. In any case, he could not contest the Jade Falcons' withdrawal—his aerofighters would be at extreme range, while the Jade Falcons' fighters could operate for hours from the Tri-Cities over the Strait. The Germans learned that the hard way back in World War II, Calla thought, and straightened up. There was nothing for it.

"Dad?" The door to Calla's command post opened up; he had put it in the basement of Horatius' only hotel. He glanced up and saw it was Sheila, dressed in fatigues. There was no fighting today, so the Sentinels were resting. She came to attention, waited for him to nod, then handed him a printed readout. "Here's the butcher's bill from yesterday."

Calla looked over the readouts. The 133rd Falcon Fusiliers might have been bloodied, but the Sentinels had taken their share of casualties as well, and he was still reorganizing. Ten 'Mechs had been lost, though Master Tech Nicia Caii thought four might be salvageable. Five MechWarriors were dead—Carmotta Perry, David George, Michael Goodwin, Paul Jacques, Allen Calamari. All names Calla knew, all veterans; Jacques had been a lance commander. He'd have to find someone to command that lance now. Most of them had families that would need to be informed—he would have to find time to write letters. I'm getting too old for this shit, he thought sadly.

He set the readouts down and saw that Sheila was waiting patiently to be dismissed. That made him feel old too. He remembered the beautiful young woman standing in front of him, only three inches shorter than his own height, as a six year old tomboy covered in mud and grinning with a missing tooth, or as a ten year old girl hugging him and crying as she said goodbye to him, before he went out on a long raid into Kurita territory. Now not only was she grown, she had managed to turn a battle around the day before, leading a charge out of sheer force of will. Sheila was not only a MechWarrior, but a leader, and Calla felt so very proud of her. He had watched, his heart in his throat, knowing Sheila was making herself a target, and unable to do anything but watch.

"Dad?" Sheila was getting uncomfortable in the silence, as her father stared at her with mist in his eyes.

"Sheila…" He reached out and put his hands on her shoulders. "I…I just wanted to say you did really good yesterday. Damn good. I've always been proud of you, but maybe…I just haven't said it enough." He took a deep breath, let it out. "I love you, kiddo."

"Aw, Dad." Sheila hugged her father. He squeezed her, as if he could hold her forever and never let go. He felt something hard press into his chest, and pulled back, noticing the gold chain around her neck. "What's that?" He hadn't noticed it before, and knew that Sheila didn't wear dogtags; like many MechWarriors, she wore them around one ankle for identification purposes. There usually wasn't much left of MechWarriors that took head hits.

"Um…it's…uh…" Sheila stammered. Before she could stop him, Calla reached out and pulled the chain upwards. The engagement ring fell out between Sheila's breasts. "Um, Dad, it's not what you think!"

"I think that's an engagement ring," Calla said with a smile. "When did this happen? I know your mother doesn't know."

"It's not—it's a—" Sheila faltered under Calla's gaze, like she always had. "It…um…well, it's what it looks like…on Twycross…well, before that, really, um…" Sheila didn't know how to explain a somewhat sordid romance and her sex life to her father.

"I know who it is, Sheila. I just didn't know it was this far along."

Sheila wished she could sink into the floor. "You know?"

He nodded. "Since before Twycross. Unless it's someone new besides Max Canis-Vlata."

"Dad!" Sheila protested, afraid her father thought she was a slut. "Yeah, it's Max, but…how did you know?"

Calla's smile widened into a wide grin. "Since the night your mother came by to say hello. She noticed you were naked under the covers, but didn't think anything about it…until she saw a used condom in the trash can. Then she used the bathroom, remember? Max left one of his socks behind on the lawn outside of the barracks." Sheila turned beet red, and Calla tried not to laugh at his daughter's embarrassment.

She collapsed into a chair. "Oh God. Mom knows too?" Calla nodded. "And you two didn't say anything? How did you know it was even Max?"

"C'mon, Sheila. Give your old parents some credit. Everyone knows you two were dating. We didn't raise someone who sleeps around—despite your earlier indescretion with Tooriu Kku—so it had to be Max."

Sheila buried her face in her hands. "You know about Tooriu?"

"That's regimental rumor, kid. I didn't really believe it, but when you hear it from several people, you start believing it."

"I'm surprised you didn't kill him," Sheila said.

Calla sat in a chair across from him. "Sheila, it's tough for parents to hear that their daughter isn't a pure-as-the-driven-snow virgin, but you're a grown woman. Hell, you're a veteran MechWarrior now. It was bound to happen sometime. I'm glad you're with Max now—he's more mature than Tooriu." He pointed to the ring. "I'm also glad that you're planning on marrying him."

"I love him, Dad. He loves me. I'm serious," Sheila assured him. "Do you and Mom approve?"

"You'll have to ask your mother, but honestly, does it matter what we think?" Calla asked.

Sheila jumped out of her chair. "Dad, dammit! I've always wanted your approval—"

Calla stopped her with an upraised hand. "That's not what I meant, Sheila." He was quiet for a moment, looking at the wooden ceiling. "My folks died long before I met your mother, Sheila. Her parents didn't approve. I was just a mercenary MechWarrior with a company of independent mercenaries, trying to keep our heads above water, and here's Arla d'Erlon, with a pedigree of Davion nobility and a lineage that stretches back to the Napoleonic Wars. The Bighorn-Vlatas can trace our lineage back to Karelia, who died fighting Amaris, and fourteen generations of MechWarriors…and that and a C-Bill will get you a cup of coffee at the Old MechWarriors' Home." He laughed at the memory. "But we were in love, so Arla and I eloped and got married anyway. Her family wanted to disown her and get my head on a plate, but then we actually managed to kick ass in the Fourth War, so suddenly they were okay with the match."

Sheila remembered her grandparents, two friendly old people with white hair who spoiled their only granddaughter rotten when they managed to make the trip to New Avalon. She had heard this story before, of course. "Okay, but what's that got to do with me?"

"I was wondering if you were intending to continue the family tradition. I think your mother will want you to have a ceremony."

"No, Dad, we're not eloping. We just want to wait until after we've taken Planting, that's all."

Calla almost said that there was a possibility that neither Sheila or Max would survive the campaign, but he pushed that thought aside. He didn't want to believe that. Suddenly another thought occurred to him, and he felt himself go pale. "Sheila, you're not…you're not pregnant, are you?"

Sheila blinked. "What?" Then she frantically waved her hands. "No, no! Nothing like that! Max and I are very careful." She blew out a breath. "You think I would've done what I did yesterday if I was?"

"Your mother was two months with you when we got Tormana Liao's family off Highspire." He waved it off. "Never mind. Do Todd and Mira know?"

"Not yet," Sheila said, though now she wondered if they did know. There were few secrets in a regiment.

"Better tell them. I like having them happy, and Todd sober." He got up and kissed her on the forehead. "Well, allow your old man to say congratulations, anyway. Max is a good man. I know your mother approves."

"Thanks, Dad." She put the ring back under her shirt. "I guess that went better than I thought it would."

Calla shrugged. "I mean, I wasn't going to go find Max and do what your grandfather threatened to do to me."

"What's that?"

Calla grinned. "He went to go get a shotgun, and I hauled ass out the window."

---

One of the perks of being liberators was that the local population tended to be rather thankful. Though the people of Horatius had reported that the Jade Falcons' conduct had been "correct"—in that they hadn't looted, murdered or raped, and generally left the populace alone—they were still happy to no longer be subjects of the Clans. Luckily, the damage to Horatius itself had not been heavy, so that helped as well.

The Sentinels had been given hotel rooms when available, and as a reward for saving the left flank of the entire regiment, Sheila was one of them. She felt a little bad about it, especially as her company was spending the night out in the field, but Kaatha had merely laughed, remarked on how rank had its privileges, and sent her on her way. Now, standing under a shower with wonderfully hot water cascading over her, washing away the sweat and grime of two days, Sheila didn't feel so bad. It certainly beat washing in the fields, using a bucket and soap, hoping for clean water and a somewhat secluded area to wash in. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts, she thought.

There was a knock at the bathroom door. Sheila wiped the condensation off the shower. "Who is it?"

"Your beloved!"

Sheila grinned at Max's voice. "Max or Tooriu?" She couldn't resist.

"Both!"

"In that case, come on in!"

The door opened and Max came in, alone. "Aww," Sheila mock-pouted, "and here I was hoping to get double-teamed tonight."

"You'll have to make do with me. Mind if I join you?"

"Sure." Max stripped off his clothes, opened the curtain, and climbed into the shower with her. "I could use someone to wash my hair."

"Don't mind if I do." When her hair was down, Sheila's black tresses fell halfway down her back. Max washed it and then shampooed it carefully, as Sheila smiled and made appreciative noises. God, she's beautiful, Max thought, and knew he was getting hard. Okay, hold on, he told himself, and rinsed off her hair.

"Mmm, thanks." Sheila turned around and looked down at his erection. "Oh, my. Is that for me?"

"It's certainly not for anyone else."

She put a hand on his chest. "Well, hold on a second. We need to talk. Let me wash your back." Max dutifully turned around and Sheila began washing him. "My parents know about us."

Max sighed. "Had to happen sooner or later. Did you tell them?"

"No…Mom figured it out before Twycross. Remember the night you had to jump out of my bathroom window?" Sheila asked.

"More like shimmy, but yeah."

"Mom saw the condom in the trash and put two and two together. Or rather, one and one."

"Shit. She didn't say anything?"

"Nope," Sheila said. "She figured we were adults and it was none of her business. She told Dad, though." She shrugged. "He took it really well that we're engaged."

"Hell, half the regiment probably knows," Max told her. "I guess I'd better tell my folks later."

Sheila kissed his neck. "Much later." She rinsed off his back and had him turn around. "Well," she sighed elaborately, "guess it's about time we reached this stage of the relationship."

"What's that?" Sheila slowly got down on her knees. "Oh."

She looked up at Max. "I'll warn you that I'm not very good at this. First time Tooriu and I tried it, I, um…I gagged and almost puked on him."

Max swallowed. "Uh…well…do your best?"

It turned out that Sheila's best was actually pretty good.

---

Horatius

Planting, Jade Falcon Occupation Zone

16 September 3050

"That's the latest," Calla explained to Major Simon Kroger, who was peering at high-altitude reconnaissance photos. "The Jade Falcons have successfully evacuated across Blackett Strait."

Kroger, like Calla, was tall and wore glasses; both men were about the same age, though—much to Calla's chagrin—Kroger was still thin, whereas Calla fought a losing battle against his weight. "You decided not to contest it." Kroger made it a statement.

"No point in getting my pilots killed. We'll need them for the next phase of the operation anyway." Calla motioned to the map. "I plan on doing a combat drop on either side of the Tri-Cities. It risks splitting us up, but the Jade Falcons will have to split up too to contest both drops—and they don't have the numbers. It'll also take the pressure off the 20th Arcturan Guards. I think once we break them out of the Tel Akbir Peninsula, the Jade Falcons will retreat offplanet, and then it's home and beer."

Kroger spread his fingers over the Tel Akbir Peninsula. "Why in the hell is the 20th still stuck there, Commander? Better yet, why land them on a narrow peninsula anyway?"

"I hoped Hauptmann General Kincaide would move fast on landing and take the Tri-Cities while the Jade Falcons were still reacting to our landings here. It was a risk. Kincaide made it down just fine, but he didn't get off the peninsula fast enough, and the Falcons bottled him up." Calla shrugged. "It's not ideal, but at least he's tying down the Choyer Garrison Cluster for us." With an entire RCT, Calla didn't add; he didn't want to talk behind Kincaide's back. If I'd known Kincaide would get a case of the slows, I never would've put him there. Hell, I shouldn't have anyway. Calla thought he knew what Brian Kincaide's issue was: the 20th had sat on garrison duty on Aubisson too long. They were not inexperienced—in fact, they had successfully repulsed a Kurita raid only a few months previously, at the same time the Clans had launched their assault—but they were used to defensive fighting, not fast offensives.

"'I had hoped we were throwing a wildcat ashore, but all we got was a stranded whale,'" Kroger quoted.

Calla chuckled. "That's what Churchill would've said, anyway. Water under the bridge." He bent over the map. "I'll probably land my Alpha and Bravo Battalions here, west of the capitol. You'll land the 50th Heavy here, to the east; I'll put my Ceta Battalion under your command. They're understrength, but it'll keep you from getting bottled up too. Okay?"

Kroger nodded. "Okay with me." He moved a finger northwest. "We'll advance inland from Fort Pilum into the rear areas of the Choyer. They'll have the inside track, but even if they beat us back to the Tri-Cities, we can link up with the 20th Arcturan."

"We'll head northeast and link up here at the Dantron Meander. The Falcons will be surrounded on all sides with their backs to the sea. Hopefully they'll quit at that point—if they don't sooner," Calla said.

"When do we go?" Kroger asked.

"Ten days from now? That'll give me time to rest up and refit. I also want to send some empty DropShips over to Kincaide, make our friend Cavell Malthus think we're reinforcing there."

"Sounds good," Kroger agreed. "We'll need some time to discuss this anyway."

Calla hadn't wanted to bring it up, but now was as good a time as any. "Major, where's the rest of the Eridani? We could use them up on the line, and General Winston's sitting on Kikuyu."

Kroger was silent for a moment, and Calla worried he had offended the man. Then Kroger sighed. "The truth, Commander? The Clans might be Kerensky's forces returned."

Calla had heard that rumor. It was a better one than the Clans were aliens, or that they were simply a very well-armed hitherto unknown pirate kingdom. "Might be. So what?"

"For us, Commander, that hits us to our core. The Eridani Light Horse refused to go with Kerensky in the Exodus. We committed ourselves to keeping the flame of the Star League alive, until Kerensky's people returned. God knows we've tried, and we've paid for it, in blood. We were hoping the Federated Commonwealth unification might be the first step to a new Star League, but now these Clans come out of nowhere. They're tearing through us—you know that better than I do," Kroger said. "Well, if they are the old SLDF—which I'll admit they don't resemble much, but God only knows what 300 years did to Kerensky's descendants—they're clearly not here to found a new Star League, but conquer the Inner Sphere. We're fighting the very people we looked for all these centuries. A lot of the Eridani isn't sure what to do."

"I hate to ask this, Major," Calla told him, "but will your people fight?"

Kroger gave him a short, sharp nod. "Absolutely, Commander. I made that clear to the 50th before we left Kikuyu. They'll fight. They won't like it, but they'll fight. When I said we had to talk it over, I meant I need to meet with my company and lance commanders to figure out how we're going to do this."

"Oh." Calla laughed at himself, and put out a hand. Kroger shook it. "Well, Kerensky's heirs or not, we're going to either force these people offplanet or stomp their asses flat."

"Amen to that, Commander."

The door opened and Archibald Harrier, one of Calla's youngest staff officers, stuck his head in. "Commander, I hate to interrupt, but the battalion commanders are here, along with Major Rhialla."

Calla's eyebrows went up. "What's up? We didn't have a meeting scheduled this afternoon."

"Don't know, sir. No Clan attacks are going on. They just came in."

Calla turned to Kroger. "Well, maybe I'm facing a mutiny, Major," he joked. "Let me know what you come up with."

"Yes, sir." Kroger came to attention, then left. Harrier held the door open, and all three battalion commanders of the Sentinels—Mira Canis-Vlata of Alpha, Caitlin Houndlikov of Beta, and Dan Ormiston of Ceta—walked in along with Marion Rhialla. All four came to attention as well as Harrier closed the door. "At ease. What's up?" Calla repeated. "Are you here to get rid of me or something?"

Mira shook her head with a smile. "Nah, not yet. None of us want the responsibility."

"Oh good. Saved by laziness." Calla leaned back against the map table. "Go ahead."

To his surprise, the three battalion commanders looked at Rhialla. She took a step forward. "Calla, I'm going to be fucking honest with you. If it hadn't been for Sheila rallying that rout the day before yesterday, we'd be discussing defense plans for Gray Bay, or retreating offplanet by now, not crossing Blackett Strait."

Calla gave a shrug. "I don't think it was that bad. Sheila did damn well, no question, but I don't—"

"Calla," Mira interrupted, "we think Sheila is being wasted as a company commander."

"Okay," Calla said guardedly. "I agree she's got talent, if she can watch her mouth. I'm not following you, Mira."

Ormiston was now the one to speak. "Calla, I'm not going to beat around the bush. I don't think Sheila should run a lance or a company."

That surprised Calla; as far as he knew, Ormiston had nothing against Sheila. "Then what?"

"We think she should have a battalion," Mira said.

Calla's mouth fell open. It was dead quiet in the room for a few minutes until he found his voice. "She what?"

"We think she should have a battalion," Mira repeated.

He sat down in a chair, still in shock. "That's impossible, Mira. Where the hell am I going to find MechWarriors for a new battalion? Shit, we don't have enough to even fill out Ceta as it is—and that's assuming I go along with this fucked-up idea!"

"Calla, I know you don't think she's ready," Houndlikov said.

"You're damn right I don't think she's ready!" Calla exclaimed. "Because she isn't!" He shook his head. "This is the most insane thing I've heard, and I've heard some pretty insane things. Again, where would we even find MechWarriors?"

It was Ormiston that replied. "For now, they can come from Ceta Battalion. Some of them, anyway. We'll call for volunteers, and we'll vet them."

"That's nice, Dan, but what about Ceta?" Calla demanded. "It's already understrength. It's a two-company battalion."

"Again, for now, we can disband Ceta and distribute some of the MechWarriors to this new battalion, and some to replace losses in Alpha and Beta. Besides, weren't you already talking to Lexi Rowley about using the survivors of the 12th Star Guards' 1st Regiment to rebuild Ceta? There's enough MechWarriors under her command to completely rebuild Ceta even with adding a new battalion."

Calla took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "If she agrees. Lexi said she'd get back to me after we're done on Planting." Lexi Rowley had commanded the 1st Regiment of the famous 12th Star Guards on Steelton. Only about half the regiment survived being overrun by the Jade Falcons on Steelton. The rest of the 12th had been equally torn up by the Jade Falcons on Bensinger and by the Wolves on Icar. The Star Guards didn't have enough left to reform the unit, so most of the MechWarriors were trying to "catch on" with other units. Calla, who had known Rowley for years, offered her remaining people a place in the Sentinels.

"I think she will," Ormiston said. "And when she does, she's going to want command of that battalion. To be honest, Calla, I took over Ceta only because you asked, I'm one of the senior surviving officers off Persistence, and neither Todd Canis nor Marion here wanted it."

"True," Marion confirmed. "I don't want another battalion command, Calla. Not after what happened to my unit."

"I know, Marion, I know," Calla replied tiredly. "Okay, fine. Let's say we do have enough MechWarriors to fill out a new battalion to replace Ceta."

"Actually," Mira said, "we were thinking about forming this new unit with three companies instead of our usual four."

"That would make it a bit easier," Calla agreed.

"But the third company would be a mixed-arms unit, with tanks and infantry. Say, three platoons of tanks and one of groundpounders." Calla slumped in the chair in disbelief. "Calla, we have been saying that Dick Cannon's tankers are the red-headed stepchild of the Sentinels. We don't use them enough because we're all MechWarriors. Dick's patient and so are his people, but we're leaving firepower on the shelf."

"Because I'm worried those tanks will get creamed by the Clans," Calla told her. "But yes, that's true." He straightened up and gave it some thought. He had been thinking about doing more combined arms. Tanks were more vulnerable than 'Mechs, but they had their place on a battlefield—and Mira was right; he did tend to neglect his tanks. Richard Cannon was a good man, and Calla owed him a chance to show what his tankers could do, even against the Clans. The infantry was no issue; everyone in the Sentinels respected the Sentinels Light Infantry. "Okay, so a combined arms battalion. I like that idea. I'm not sold on Sheila commanding it when she's only commanded a company since June—and then barely, since she's been leading lances until here. It's going to look nepotistic as hell. The regiment might get pissed."

Houndlikov laughed. "I think they'll applaud it."

"Why's that?"

It was Rhialla that answered. "Calla, it's time we were fucking honest with ourselves. We're not getting any damn younger, much as I hate to admit it. None of the senior officers are. I'm fifty. Dan's forty-eight. Catherine here is forty-six. You're the same age, and so is Mira."

"No shit, Marion. What's the point?"

"Calla," Houndlikov said, "have you seen the Clan MechWarriors? They're young. I'm guessing the average age is somewhere around twenty or so. We've already said how old we are. With the exception of Sheila and one or two others, most of the company commanders are in their late thirties…but our line MechWarriors, they're Sheila's age, between eighteen and twenty-six. We have an age gap. Most Inner Sphere regiments do." She made a vague gesture towards the ceiling, and her battalion. "I don't know what they like. I don't know what music they listen to. I can't stand the way they dress off-duty. I can't relate to them. I can command them in combat, but I don't know them, not like I used to back in '39 or '44. And they think I'm an old battleaxe. They call me the Iceberg when they think I can't hear them."

"And I know what they call me when they think I can't hear them," Marion laughed. "Fact is, Calla, Sheila is their age. She knows them; they know her. They believe in her. When she decked Mary Scott, people cheered. They fucking cheered her the other day at Pascia Grove. She can beat the Clans, Calla. Most of us have fought them twice—Persistence and here. We lost on Persistence, and the word's still out on Planting. She's fought them five fuckin' times. She lost on Persistence, Rasalhague, and Blackjack, won on Twycross, and so far she's won here. Even when she lost, she managed to keep most of her people alive. She's fuckin' reckless, yes, but hell—weren't all of us at her age?"

"Yeah," Calla said. "And I made some mistakes that got people killed."

"Didn't we all," Marion said bitterly. "But I tell you what—I'll join this new battalion. I'll keep an eye on her. I can fight a battalion, even if I don't fucking want to. But I bet my ass that I won't have to. Sheila can beat the Clans, Calla," Marion repeated.

Calla glared at her. "You saying that we old fogies can't?"

"Fuck, no. Old age and treachery will always triumph over youth and vigor. But fact is, Calla, we've gotten kinda set in our ways."

"Calla," Mira jumped in, "we've been fighting mostly House Kurita since the Fourth War. We know them, we know the Mariks, we know Liao. But these Clanners are very different. The only reason we're not in the same spot Lexi Rowley is…well, we cheated on Persistence with those mines, and the Jade Falcons didn't want to take more casualties. The only reason the AFFC won on Twycross is because Kai Allard detonated those vibrobombs.

"The other day, Calla, your plan was perfect…if we were fighting the 2nd Sword of Light or Stapleton's Iron Hand. But those Jade Falcons—we outnumbered them damn near three to one, and they routed us. When was the last time we got routed? I don't remember." Mira reached out and put a hand on Calla's shoulder. "I'm not saying we should retire, Calla, or that old dogs can't learn new tricks. What I am saying is that we should get some new blood into command, someone who doesn't think like we do. Sheila doesn't have to unlearn what we do," Mira finished.

Calla was silent for awhile, his head in his hands. His commanders made a lot of sense. He agreed with them—but there was still the fact that Sheila was barely twenty years old. He had been twenty-three when he'd formed the Sentinels, back when they were just two lances. And it's also because I'm worried about my daughter, Calla admitted to himself. Because she's probably willing to do it, and will risk much to prove herself. Maybe too much. "Who would be her company commanders?"

"Cannon will choose someone for the tanks, but we were thinking Elfa Brownoak," Ormiston said. "Sheila would command her own company, of course, along with running her battalion. We'll find her a good lance commander to fight the 1st Company."

"Like me," Marion smiled.

"You'd take a demotion to lance commander?" Calla asked.

"Why not? I could use the rest," Marion laughed.

Calla was quiet again, then he started laughing and jumped to his feet. "Oh, what the hell. Why not? It's worth a try. She's going to need time to train a new battalion, though. And I want to inspect them when she's got them formed up."

"It's going to take us ten days to two weeks to get ready to cross Blackett Strait," Mira said. "That should be enough time. And we don't throw Sheila to the wolves—or in this case, the Jade Falcons—right off the bat." She moved past Calla and pointed to Fort Pilum. "At last report, there was only a Clan garrison company there, with Star League-era 'Mechs. She can crack Fort Pilum. We wouldn't use tanks there, but I don't think Dick will bitch if he gets more time to pick crews. Arla can support with infantry for the interior of the fort itself. It would give Sheila a chance to fight with two companies instead of one."

Calla nodded. "All right. Let me sleep on it…and talk to my wife about it. Right now, I need to really think about this. I've had enough surprises for one day." He sighed. "I very tentatively approve." He glanced at Fort Pilum on the map. "God help her."

Horatius

Planting, Jade Falcon Occupation Zone

17 September 3050

Sheila Arla-Vlata fell backwards into her chair, her eyes wide. Then she looked up at Marion Rhialla. "Are you fucking serious?"

Marion couldn't resist a smile. "Yep."

Sheila put up a hand, covering her eyes with the other. "Let me get this straight. A few weeks ago, I was lucky to have any command at all, let alone a company, and now you somehow managed to convince my dad to give me a battalion? Holy shit, Marion, I just turned twenty! I'm so green that I might as well be a damn leprechaun!"

"You're not green, Sheila," Marion said, leaning against the wall of the hotel room. "You know how to fight a company, and you did really great at Pascia Grove—"

"That was one battle!"

"—among others. Don't fucking interrupt me, Sheila." Marion met Sheila's eyes. "You think I would've gone along with the others if I didn't think you could fucking do this?"

Sheila opened her mouth, then closed it. After a few moments, she asked simply, "Why?"

"I told you why. You're young, you're good, you think on your feet, and you can command. And you've got something that very fucking few people have."

"Like what?"

"You're not afraid of the fucking Clans," Marion grinned. "I'm not either, but that's because I'm an old bitch who has had her life. If I die tomorrow, so what? I've been everywhere and seen everything I want to see. But you? You're different." She pushed off the wall, moved past Sheila, and stared out of the window of the third floor room. It faced north, and she could see the Duranter River, and the ridges that the Sentinels would be soon advancing over—without opposition, as the Jade Falcons were already off the subcontinent. "When I became a MechWarrior in the Capellan Hussars a long time ago, I thought I knew everything. Most cadets do. We come out of NAMA or the Nagelring or whatever thinking we're the next Napoleon.

"Then we get in our first battle, and we piss ourselves because we realize we can get really fucking dead doing this. After that, MechWarriors go in three paths. Most just hunker down and survive. They're solid, they'll win battles, but they'll never be great—they'll survive, maybe even to retirement, but you're never going to read about them in the history books. Some lose their shit and pussy out, and can never get in a cockpit again. They desert, they run away—anything but get back in the field. And then there's the few who know that they're not immortal, but they're going to do more than just survive, and they're damn sure not going to run away. They just keep getting better. They excel, and they thrive. That's the Jaime Wolfs, Morgan Kells, and Natasha Kerenskys of the galaxy. You know why they win?" Sheila shook her head. "Because they look at the enemy, realize that the other side is flesh and blood too—that they're just as scared shitless as everyone else—and know they can win. And win regularly. Oh, they're afraid—you're not going to tell me even the fucking Black Widow hasn't pissed herself in fear once or twice. At least I don't think Kerensky is that fucking stupid never to be afraid. But they don't let that fear dominate them. Instead, they use it to dominate others. They make the other side piss and shit themselves in fear."

Sheila chuckled. "Don't die for your country, make the other poor bastard die for his."

Marion nodded, turning away from the window, away from her memories. "That's what Patton would say, yeah."

"I don't know that I'm that person, Marion."

"Well, we think you are. Enough to give you a chance, anyway."

Sheila got up from the chair, rather shakily. "I'm not ready, Marion."

"None of us are, Sheila," Marion said quietly. "You're never really ready for your first battle, or your first command. I walked mine into an ambush the first time out." She laughed. "Yeah, Marion Fucking Tigerstripe Rhialla, commander of the Tigerstripe Legionnaires of mightly House Liao, walked right into a goddamn ambush set by some newbie Davion bastard in the 33rd Avalon Hussars. Al Dennison told me it was an ambush, too. I ignored him and got popped, like the stupid bitch I was."

Sheila hadn't known that; Marion didn't talk about her former career as a mercenary battalion commander. "What happened?"

"After I managed not to die in the first minute, I got my head on straight and we fought our way out. Gave the Davions a bloody fucking nose in the process too." Marion shrugged. "You can go through all the book learning, all the map problems, and all the live-fire exercises you like, but the only way you really learn is by fighting a battle and killing the enemy." She walked over to Sheila. She was shorter, but her force of personality was such that Marion tended to dominate any room she was in. "Besides, it's not like your dad is just giving you a battalion with no strings attached. You'll have me and Elfa there to back you up. Between us, we've got more experience than half the Inner Sphere. We'll keep you out of trouble and let you know if you're fucking it up."

"I can't believe you're going to take a demotion to lance commander," Sheila said.

"I want this to work, kid. I'm tired of these fucking snooty-ass Clanners acting like they're King Shit on Turd Mountain. I want them to bleed. I want them to fucking fear."

"Still can't believe my folks agreed to this." Calla had talked to Arla, apparently, and they had agreed that, if Sheila wanted the command, she would have it. To avoid making it look even more like nepotism than it did, Marion had gotten the honor of telling Sheila. Marion had also done some asking around—the rumor mill was the fastest communication known to man, and already it was circulating that the Sentinels were trying something new, with Sheila in command. Calla had made it clear that the project would be dropped if there was too much hue and cry about it. So far, there was less concern in the regiment about Sheila commanding it as there was the idea of a new unit trained specifically to fight the Clans. That, Marion knew, would be the tough part.

Sheila took up Marion's position at the window. "Assuming I'm stupid enough to accept this, I have to create a unit that can not only beat the Clans, but do it consistently."

"Yep."

"How in the hell do I do that? You act like I've got some sort of superpower!" Sheila exclaimed.

Marion went over and flicked Sheila in the forehead. "You do," she said over Sheila's curse of surprise. "It's called your fucking brain. Everyone's got one, but not everyone actually uses it." Marion stepped back. "You're being given two companies of 'Mechs, with a company of tanks to follow. Probably some infantry too, and maybe some aerofighters—got to talk to Liz Dowlings about that. Elfa and I will help, but how you organize it is up to you. How you fight it is up to you."

"Great." Sheila rubbed her forehead. "Ow. Do I get to choose my own MechWarriors and tankers?"

"Yeah. We'll put the call out straight away. Volunteer only. We'll vet whoever signs up, so the other battalions aren't dumping their problem children on you. You get final say. There's also some folks from outside the regiment that you might want." Something crossed Marion's face, something Sheila wasn't sure of. "Anyway, we figure 24 MechWarriors and 12 tank crews."

"No good," Sheila said, which surprised even her. "I want a company that can fight a Clan company head on. Fighting 12 to 15 is bad odds. I want 16 in a company—that means 32 MechWarriors and 16 tank crews."

Marion considered that. The Sentinels tended to use oversize companies anyway, simply because it was always good to have a reserve. "I bet we can arrange that." She grinned at Sheila. "Now you're using your noggin, girl."

Sheila rolled her eyes. "I suppose." She gave Marion a dirty look. "Quit smirking, Lance Commander."

Marion snapped to attention and gave her an ironic salute. "Yes, ma'am. Just that, all of a sudden, you're acting like a fucking CO."

"Lucky me." Sheila looked out of the window again. She remembered playing with her toy 'Mechs; one didn't grow up the daughter of a MechWarrior without being interested in what Daddy did for a living. Like most children who grew up in war, she built forts and deployed her forces to take on her friends' toys. Of course, she had dolls too, but those dolls were always great military commanders; when she did dress up, it was in uniforms. She would pretend that the dolls were her, getting a medal from Prince Davion or Archon Steiner. She was wearing her fatigues today, but her Commonwealth Star was hanging next to the dress uniform in the closet; she hadn't gotten it from Hanse Davion or Katrina Steiner, but Morgan Hasek-Davion was a pretty decent stand-in. Her favorite books had been about Jennifer Steiner or Ian Davion. She had stared at the ceiling after going to bed many times, after she had decided to become a MechWarrior, and wonder what it would be like to command a company. Well, now she knew, and now she would be taking the next step forward, battalion command, wearing the single diamond that only three people in the Sentinels got to wear.

Sheila's battalion. It had a nice ring to it. She realized she wanted the command, even if it also scared the hell out of her.

"Marion," she finally said, "are you blowing sunshine up my ass?"

The older woman snorted. "Do you really think I ever blow sunshine up anyone's ass, Sheila? I don't do that to Mira, or your father, and certainly not you. If I didn't think you could do this, I wouldn't be standing in this room. If you don't want command, don't fucking take it. But if you think I'd ever toady up to your skinny ass, then you need to remember that I told Max Liao to shove it up his shit chute once, and I don't have any fears of telling you the same." She pointed at Sheila. "I want you to take command because I want to win."

Sheila took in Marion, the tanned skin with too many lines from staring into too many sunsets, the flinty eyes that could examine a field and know how to assault or defend it in a second, the lean body that was the product of over thirty years of fighting. She wondered if she would ever be that old, and reasoned that she probably wouldn't. "Okay," Sheila finally said, with a deep breath, knowing her life was about to change forever. "If they'll take me, I accept."

"Good." Sheila was surprised to see tears in Marion's eyes. "Good."

---

Camp Calzaghe

Planting, Jade Falcon Occupation Zone

18 September 3050

Max Canis-Vlata walked into the room that Sheila had turned into an ersatz office. Camp Calzaghe was an old LCAF training camp; up in the mountains northeast of Horatius, it was a perfect spot to train a new battalion. The Jade Falcons were not running aerial reconnaissance missions this far south, and both Sheila and Calla hoped they wouldn't notice that the Sentinels were suddenly understrength at Fairfields—or if they did, figured they had inflicted more damage to the regiment at Pascia Grove than the Falcons originally thought. The camp had been used by a youth group before the Clan invasion, so it was clean and cozy. "Hey, babe," he called out from the doorway.

"Mm," Sheila answered distractedly. She was sitting at a table piled high with papers, maps and technical readouts. The paperless office was on its tenth century of being predicted. Max shut the door behind him. "Still working on operations orders?"

"Mm."

Max was getting used to Sheila being rather monosyllabic as of late. There was no formal taking command ceremony—not yet, if ever, because as Calla said, he wanted the Clans to be just as surprised as he had been. The new battalion didn't even have a name yet; all they had agreed on was that it would not be simply given Ceta Battalion's old name. In fact, Calla was considering giving that moniker to Richard Cannon's tank unit, which would make the tankers feel more integrated into the Sentinels as a whole, rather than be called just the "Tank Battalion."

In the two days since Sheila had agreed to take on the task of putting together the new unit, she had immediately asked Max to join, which he had just as quickly accepted. He already knew he had a knack for staff work, and already they had realized that Max's strengths—paperwork, logistics, and general math—covered Sheila's weaknesses. Of course, their first task was just picking through the people who had volunteered. Far more than 36 MechWarriors had volunteered—the tank crews would come later—and sure enough, not a few of them were "volunteered" by units trying to unload their discipline cases on Sheila. A volcanic eruption of anger from Calla had put a stop to that. The last two days had been long ones of reviewing those people that Sheila did want in her unit. Much like combat leadership, it was something that no class at the Nagelring or NAMA had prepared either for. Max glanced at the shoulder boards. They were red, the color of blood and MechWarriors, and on each were pinned the single diamond of a Lieutenant Commander, the Sentinel rank for battalion commanders. The diamonds were still so new that they glittered in the light, which Max knew his mother's didn't any longer, except for the ones she wore to formal occasions. As Marion had said, however, one didn't salute the diamond; you saluted who was wearing it.

"Still going through personnel records too?"

"Mm."

"Want me to screw you in the butt?"

Sheila turned at looked at him, aghast. "What?"

"Figured that would get you to say more than 'mm.'" Max kissed her cheek and let her go, leaning on the table. "How goes it?"

Sheila dropped her pen on the table, leaned back in her chair, and rubbed her eyes. "You might as well fuck me, because I feel like everyone else sure is. I'm exhausted," she groaned. "There's so much to remember and do."

"You've done op orders before."

"Yeah, but never for a battalion."

"Can't be that much harder." He picked up the handwritten order. It would get typed up later and cleaned up, making the transition from plain English to military bureaucratese. "It doesn't help that we don't have a solid roster yet."

"Actually…" Sheila moved a copy of Technical Readout 3026 out of the way and handed Max a printed copy. "Still tentative, and I want you to look it over, but after much screaming, yelling and gnashing of teeth, it's done. Assuming you agree, and Marion agrees, and Elfa agrees, and Dad agrees, the No-Name Battalion is ready to go."

"We have got to get a name before No-Name sticks," Max said. He scanned the sheet.

---

_Battalion

Alpha Company

Command Lance

Lieutenant Commander Sheila Arla-Vlata, Shruiken

MechWarrior Kaatha, Griffin

MechWarrior Marcus Drax, Phoenix Hawk

MechWarrior Felisanna, Panther

Recon Lance

Lance Commander Tessya Blackthorn, Wasp

MechWarrior Philip Scott, Aquarius

MechWarrior Tinyak Fernplanter, Panther

MechWarrior Frederick Matria, Chameleon

Heavy Lance

Lance Commander Maximillian Canis-Vlata, Battlemaster

MechWarrior Charles Badaxe, Atlas

MechWarrior Maria Thyatis, Wolverine

MechWarrior Brefudd Dari, Axeman

Beta Company

Command Lance

Major Elfa Brownoak, Phoenix Hawk

MechWarrior Mary Scott, Wasp

MechWarrior Larry Stohr, Stinger

MechWarrior Michael Vragel, Stinger

Fire Lance

Lance Commander Tooriu Kku, Awesome

MechWarrior John Lawson, Archer

MechWarrior Arthur McKenna, Archer

MechWarrior Eric Jerome, Archer

Heavy Lance

Lance Commander Terry Nutter, Victor

MechWarrior Maysa Bari, Rifleman

MechWarrior Togan Nordkoping, Warhammer

MechWarrior Stefan Jones, Thunderbolt

Assault Lance

Lance Commander Marion Rhialla, Perennium

MechWarrior Alfred Dennison, Perennium

MechWarrior Ted van Kull, Victor

MechWarrior Troms Fiordur, Warhammer

---

"Still nothing from Cannon on the tanks?" Max asked.

"We're still trying to figure out what we need as far as types and how we'll integrate them into the unit." She tapped the technical readout. "We're awfully heavy. I'd like some lighter stuff, but God, our lights are so vulnerable to the Clans as it is." She let out a long breath. "And I don't know the first damn thing about tanks. I kind of didn't pay attention to that at the Nagelring. Probably a good thing we're not using them against Fort Pilum anyway."

"We're not?"

"No, Dad can only spare us one Union-class DropShip. Everything else is allocated. No room for the tanks anyway. Mom's going to give us a platoon of light infantry, so that's something when we take the fort." She picked up the operations order. "We're not dropping into the fort itself. I decided that was a really bad idea."

"Yeah, because it was." Sheila had originally thought it was a wonderful idea, in that it would catch the Clans by surprise. Max had pointed out that it certainly would, because it was suicidal. Either Sheila had come around to his way of thinking, or Marion or Elfa had flatly turned her down. It was a learning curve, but Sheila was already proving that she wasn't wedding herself to a set plan. That, Max knew, was a good sign. "We'll have to fight our way in, but something tells me the Clans won't try to use their 'Mechs inside the fort." Fort Pilum was a coastal defense fort, much smaller than the Jestin Ridge facility had been on Persistence. "Are we going to have air support?"

"Yeah. Dowlings promised that."

Max looked over the roster again. "I notice most of the people are from Ceta. I see you've kept your Command Lance intact."

"No reason to mess with success. Besides, Kaatha and Drax already said I'd get lost without them…and they're probably right," Sheila admitted.

"And you've added Felisanna—Kaatha's daughter."

"She just got onplanet day before yesterday. She's qualified," Sheila told him. "She was way the hell on Mayetta when the war started, so it's taken her this long to get back. Thank God we had an extra Panther as a remount."

"You do know that Kaatha and Felisanna can't stand each other."

"I know. Kaatha asked me to bring her on. Felisanna said she was okay with it." Sheila shrugged. "Maybe they want to patch things up."

"Seems like a weird place for family counseling, but okay." He read down the list. "Tessya Blackthorn? Nice, she's a great light lance commander…and Phil Scott? I thought he was a lawyer."

"He is. Passed the bar before we left Sudeten, but he says he can't sue the Clans out of the Inner Sphere. Besides, we can always use a legal eagle."

Max's eyes narrowed. "What the hell is an Aquarius?"

"Some kind of prototype underwater fighting 'Mech that TharHes tried to come up with. Never went anywhere, but it was designed by the same guy who designed my Shruiken, so TharHes dumped it on the Sentinels. Phil got his Dervish all shot to hell on Persistence, so he volunteered to try it out." Max looked far from convinced. "It's not really just designed for underwater fighting—it's a medium scout. A shitload of medium lasers, no ammo, and one of those new Beagle Probes. I figured since the Clans seem to do all right with them, we could give it a try." She snickered. "Look at Elfa's command lance."

"It's really light, so I'm guessing it's going to act like a recon lance—" Then Max saw what Sheila was referring to. "Mary Scott? I thought the only thing you two agreed on was that one of you was going to frag the other!"

"Me too, but she came over here personally yesterday to tell me she wanted to join up. She said she was tired of the same-old same-old and wanted to fight with someone who knew how." Sheila rolled her eyes. "Adrenaline junkie, piloting a damn Wasp. She's got an IQ of a gnat, I swear. But anyhow, she shook hands and said she wanted to let bygones be bygones."

"Keeping your enemies close, I guess." Max pointed to the sheet. "Who's Frederick Matria and why are we allowing him in with a damn Chameleon?"

"Some crazy bastard from the old Planting Militia. He stole a Chameleon when the Jade Falcons showed up, and took to the mountains with the resistance. Matria knows the ground."

"He's going to be in the frigging ground if he thinks he can take a training 'Mech up against the Clans," Max said.

"He already has," Sheila said. "If you can believe it, he managed to take out an Uller with it. He's modded that thing. No machine guns. The techs were drooling all over it. I figure that since he's stayed loose for four months in a 'Mech, he must have something on the ball."

"Guess I can't argue with that, but he's definitely not all here." Max went back to the list, and laughed. "I see you couldn't resist bringing in Tooriu." He said it without a trace of jealousy; in fact, Max thought, having the jovial MechWarrior there would be a bonus.

"He was one of the first to volunteer. I like having that crazy bastard around. Besides, that way he's not worried about Elfa as much. I guess those two are pretty sweet on each other too." Sheila noted she also felt no jealousy—in fact, she was happy for her former lover, even if Elfa was old enough to be Tooriu's mother. So what? she admonished herself. Wartime romances were always strange. She felt the engagement ring around her neck. As I know only too well.

"Sheila?" Max was still reading the roster. "Maysa Bari? Really?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Because she's sixteen? Barely? Sheila, she's not even old enough to be drafted!"

"I know, but she insisted…and she is a really good tech. And she showed she can pilot that Rifleman that we took off those Belt Pirates. She's been running 'Mechs around the 'Mech bay on trials since she was tall enough to see over the instrument panel, Max."

"What are you not telling me?" Max asked, very seriously.

Sheila sighed. "Marion's worried that Maysa's going to find a way to get into the Sentinels anyway—and as short as we might get with MechWarriors after this campaign, she might pull it off. Hell, she will pull it off, sooner or later. Marion figured that, by putting Maysa with us, she'll learn how to do this surrounded by people Marion knows and trusts. Terry Nutter agreed to put Maysa under his wing, and he's pretty good, as you know."

"And Marion's praying that Maysa craps herself in her first battle and quits," Max said.

"Well, she used the words 'shit herself,' but yes."

Max shook his head. "I don't like it. Maysa would shoo a fly out the door before she'd kill it. I've seen her start crying if she miscalibrates a laser. I don't know if she can handle it."

"Neither do I, but she's pretty determined. Let's give her a chance."

"All right." Max was far from convinced, but it was true that Maysa probably stood a better chance of survival in the new unit. He just hoped Maysa wouldn't freeze up, or worse, panic. Then again, Max considered, I've seen Maysa hang upside down twenty feet above a bay floor to weld on a patch job with no safety harness. She probably won't panic, at least.

"Aren't you going to look over your lance?" Sheila asked.

"Don't need to. I know these people." Max ran his finger down his lance. "Brefudd is solid, though he's been bitching about how that new Axeman keeps jamming the AC/20. Maria Thyatis is new, but she's good with that Wolverine of hers. And Charles Badaxe…" Max shrugged. "He's a rich kid playing MechWarrior—his dad runs Kinosh Industries—but he didn't lose his head at Pascia Grove, and that Atlas of his is brand new." Max rubbed his chin. "I don't mind taking him, I guess."

"Maybe he's patriotic?" Sheila mused. "Then again, he was giving Elfa some lip yesterday until she kicked his ass for him, so maybe he's got authority issues. Hates his dad, wants to prove himself, that sort of thing."

Max laughed. "He doesn't like his dad, no, but it's not an authority thing. He joined up for the oldest reason of all, Sheila."

"He can't be broke. His dad is one of the richest guys in the FedCom."

"Okay, second oldest." He showed her the list. "Maria Thyatis. He's nuts over her."

"Well, she's pretty, no question there." Sheila had met Thyatis the day before, when she had dropped off her personnel file. Sheila knew she was attractive, but compared to Thyatis, she felt tawdry; the other woman was definitely beautiful enough to drive men to distraction, but she wasn't sure that Thyatis was attractive enough to attract a man away from a life of luxury into a war zone. What a weird war, Sheila thought.

"Well," Max said at length, "I guess that will do. We just need a name now."

"I'll figure something out." Sheila got to her feet and glanced at the clock. "It's late. I think I'll hit the sack after I grab a shower." She gave Max a smoldering smile. "Want to wash your commander's back?"

Max came to attention and saluted. "Ma'am, it will be my pleasure." He leaned forward and kissed her. "You know, higher rank just turns me on."

"Oh, really?" Sheila bumped her forehead against his. "Then again, I think a stiff wind turns you on."

"You said stiff." He obediently followed her out of the office, across the courtyard, to the camp commander's quarters, which had been allocated to Sheila—and Max. Since their engagement was now public, neither saw any reason to stay apart when they were off duty. The sun was long since down, and there were lights on in the barracks, and beneath the sea of camouflage netting where the battalion's 'Mechs were gathered, as techs made repairs and modifications. A few of the Sentinel Light Infantry stood around the camp as guards. Sheila half-expected to be ambushed by someone, demanding a signature or to hand her more paperwork, but other than a guard snapping to attention as she and Max walked past, there was no one in the courtyard. She was fervently glad of that.

Once inside, Max and Sheila efficiently and quickly stripped each other, teasing as they walked naked to the shower. Standing under the hot water—Max had noted that Sheila liked her showers one degree below magma—he washed her hair, holding her against him. With her rear end up against his crotch, it didn't take him long to get aroused.

Then Max noticed that Sheila was not responding to the light kisses to her shoulder, and he realized she had fallen sound asleep, held up only by his arms. "Sheila," he murmured in her ear. There was no response. "Sheila."

"Mm…" she finally mumbled.

"Babe, did you want to make love?"

"Mm…yeah…" Max shut off the water, which woke Sheila up a little. "Why did you do that?"

"Because you're so tired, you can barely stand." He led her out of the shower, and they toweled off. Even then, Sheila's eyes were drooping, so Max gently picked her up—or tried to; he was not exactly strong—and managed to carry her to the bed. She was asleep the moment he laid her down. Max sighed, staring down at her naked body, her black hair fanned over the pillows, a faint smile on her lips. "Ah well," he said, lay down next to her, pulled the covers over them both, and shut off the light.

---

Camp Calzaghe

Planting, Jade Falcon Occupation Zone

26 September 3050

"Attention in the courtyard! Commanding officer present!"

Elfa's voice cracked across the courtyard like a pistol shot. Instantly all 36 MechWarriors and 24 infantry snapped to attention and held it. Max stood at attention at the head of his lance like the rest. He could not resist a smile of pride as Sheila strode down the narrow aisle between the two halves of the battalion. She did not wear the gray fatigues that the others did, but a single-piece formal uniform. It was spotlessly white, set off by powder blue that began at her throat, spread out to an hourglass shape below her breasts to her waist, where it tapered to stripes on either side of her pants, down to the bloused MechWarrior's boots, polished to a high sheen. A cape of the same light blue color fluttered behind her, bound at her throat with a simple clasp hidden behind her Commonwealth Star. Crimson rank boards were sewed onto the mandarin-style collar and repeated on her shoulders over the cape. The only other decoration was a nametape reading ARLA-VLATA above her left breast, with a MechWarrior pin above that.

She turned on one heel between two flags—one of the Sentinels, the other of the Federated Commonwealth. Elfa stepped forward from the ranks and stomped to attention Davion-style, though her sharp, palm-down salute was Steiner. "Commander Arla-Vlata!" Elfa barked. "All personnel present and accounted for, ma'am!" Elfa couldn't help but grin.

"Thank you, Major," Sheila said crisply, returning the salute. Elfa stepped back to the ranks, and Sheila raised her voice. "At ease!" The new battalion made that move with precision as well, standing feet slightly apart with their hands clasped behind their backs. Sheila was reminded of a line from an old flatscreen movie she had watched with her father once: They look mighty pretty, but can they fight? She swallowed involuntarily. Well…we're about to find out.

Sheila took out a folded piece of paper from a pants pocket and read it solemnly. It was the order Calla had given to her to form and take command of a new combined arms battalion, promoting Sheila to Lieutenant Commander; she got a formal command ceremony after all. When she finished, she replaced the paper in her pocket, then faced her command again. Her lips were suddenly dry and she felt her hands began to shake. Sheila willed them to stop, wet her lips, and began.

"I think this is the point where I'm supposed to give a rousing speech," Sheila said. "I don't know if I can do that. I've never been much for speeches…and frankly all of you have heard those speeches before, and hearing another one from me isn't going to suddenly inspire you to great feats of arms. You know why you're here and what we're doing.

"You also know our enemy," Sheila continued. "While it's tempting to try and be like Patton and talk about how we're going to grease the feet of our 'Mechs with their living guts and so on and so forth, you wouldn't be impressed with that. That's for holovids and war bond speeches. You know the Clanners are tough and motivated bastards. I don't have to tell you that either."

Sheila paused to gather her thoughts. She had not practiced this speech, only knew what she wanted to say, and hoped she could articulate it. "So let me tell you something maybe you don't know. We're all volunteers, of course. I don't know all of you—not yet—but I know that, for every person here, there's a different reason why you joined this battalion. Maybe you fight for pride. Maybe you hate the Clans and want revenge. Maybe you wanted the extra hazard pay." There was a brief bit of laughter at that. "Maybe you joined up because you're a friend of mine and you were raised in the Sentinels, like me. Or maybe you just joined because this looked like fun. It doesn't matter, really…all that matters is that you fight.

"Because that's what this battalion is all about—fighting. Not just like the other battalions, but something new and different. While not all of us here have seen combat—" Sheila's eyes fell on Maysa Bari, who was smiling, looking entirely like the teenager she was "—we all understand that we're being asked to do. Our job is to fight the Clans. Not like our parents and grandparents fought Kurita or Marik or Liao, but an entirely new enemy. We're an entirely new battalion to fight that new enemy. We have to think in new ways. Dad formed this unit on the advice of the other battalion commanders, and Majors Rhialla and Brownoak, because he recognizes as that we've got to fight the Clans differently than any enemy before.

"There's merc units who are busting contract rather than face the Clans, and there's units that we've heard surrender at the first sight of an OmniMech or a Toad. That's not us, of course. Our job is to take the fight to the Clans. We exist to attack them, not the other way around—to hit the Clans first, fast and hard. This is our space. We may have fought over it like idiots in the Succession Wars, but that's our business, not the Clans! None of them earned the right to come here, take away our space, and tell us how we're going to live our lives."

Sheila paused again, to remember how she wanted to end her speech. "In the Sentinels' order of battle, this unit is listed not as a line battalion like Alpha or Beta, but as a Special Missions Combined Arms Team—SMCAT." She pronounced it symcat. "Special Missions, because our job will be to fight unorthodox battles in unorthodox fashion. We're going to lie, cheat and steal. Combined Arms, because this unit will not just be MechWarriors, but infantry, tankers, pilots, and techs. And Team because that is what we have to be." She nodded to them. "You know that your life depends on the man or woman next to you. We're all Sentinels here. We're not some AFFC unit. I'm not interested in the name of your father, or your mother's lineage. What I am interested in, is how well you fight and how well you think, because you're doing both in this outfit."

Sheila stopped for a moment, letting that sink in. She had said what she wanted to say, but now came the tough part. "Our first mission will be in 48 hours." That brought some murmuring, and the MechWarriors looked at each other more intently now. Some grinned. Some looked somber. Some looked terrified. "That's not much time, I know, but I'm afraid the war won't wait for us any longer. We're going after Fort Pilum. That's not for public knowledge, but you should know where we're going, because we have to figure out how we're going to crack that nut. We take Pilum, and we pave the way for the Sentinels and the Eridani to cross Blackett Strait and really take it to the Jade Falcons." She did smile now. "But first…I think we should start referring to this unit by its name, huh?"

Max and Marion Rhialla bent down and picked up a box at their feet, then opened them and began distributing the patches inside to the gathered troops. Sheila threw her own cape back from her shoulders to expose the same patch on her right shoulder; the Sentinels RCAT's crossed swords patch was on her left. Designing the patch had taken most of the previous day, since Max had suggested the name while both he and Sheila were in bed together.

The patch showed a diving snowy owl against a light blue background, the same hue as the blue on her formal uniform—itself hastily stitched together by a swearing Arla Bighorn-Vlata for her daughter. It was the only such uniform, though Sheila promised herself she would get one for everyone in the unit. The owl's wings were outstretched to the edges of the round patch; in its claws were clutched missiles. On a scroll beneath the patch were the Latin words Nemo Paribus, which roughly translated to No One Equals.

Atop the patch, on another scroll, was the battalion's name: Snowbirds SMCAT. Sheila had not liked the name at first, because it was her childhood nickname, which she didn't really care for—and now it seemed pretentious, almost as if she had named her unit after herself. Sheila had protested, but after Max described how the patch should look, with a snowy owl reminiscent of the New Kyoto snowbird, the name had grown on her. From the expressions on her troops, they rather liked the name, even if few remembered it had been Sheila's nickname.

Sheila felt like she needed to say one more thing, so she cleared her throat. "One last thing," she intoned. "I didn't get this command because I asked for it—it was kind of dropped into my lap. And the Snowbirds didn't get formed because Dad wanted to give his little girl her own command. Trust me, I don't know if I can command a battalion yet—I'm not going to lie. But I was told I've got what it takes. I hope that's true. I will lead you to the best of my ability. I have been given this command, and I will command.

"You're not here to make me look good, and I'm not here to make you look good. We'll make each other look good, because we will be good." Sheila felt her lip tremble. "Snowbirds, I've tried to eat alongside you, talk alongside you, and train alongside you. I will lead you into battle, and I hope you will follow me. Snowbirds…will you fight alongside me?"

Sheila would never know who first shouted "Yes!" but it was soon drowned out by cheers and cries of assent, as her troops punched their fists into the air and raised the patches. They began chanting "Snowbirds! Snowbirds! SNOWBIRDS!" and Sheila did not try to stop the tears from drifting down her cheeks.

Marion Rhialla caught her eye. The older woman was not cheering, but she smiled and nodded, then mouthed two words: remember this.

Sheila had her battalion.

SDS Morningside

Near Fort Pilum, Planting, Jade Falcon Occupation Zone

28 September 3050

Oh shit, Sheila thought, gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut even harder. Oh God. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this! Her stomach made a dangerous flip and she felt her mouth fill with bile. No no no! Don't you dare puke, Sheila! You're commanding this whole shiteree, and newly minted battalion commanders are not allowed to barf all over their instrument panels! Somehow, she held down what little breakfast she had eaten that morning as the Morningside battered its way through turbulence. Well, it could be worse, Sheila thought, spitting on the floor of the cockpit to get the bitter taste out of her mouth. This could be a combat drop. If there was anything worse than being sealed in a steel egg with ten thousand moving parts—the failure of any one of which would send her, half the Snowbirds, and the DropShip into a fiery death spiral—it was being kicked out at 100,000 feet, or worse, to free-fall in a 70-ton 'Mech towards the ground. Why in the hell do DropShips scare the bejesus out of me? Sheila asked herself miserably. I must be a control freak or something…oh God, please, please stop the turbulence…

In an effort to distract herself from the icy fear in her chest and the nauseating rumbling of her stomach, Sheila mentally reviewed her orders. It was simple enough. The Snowbirds were spearheading the Sentinels and the 50th Heavy Cavalry Battalion of the Eridani Light Horse dropping across Blackett Strait to either side of the Tri-Cities. Her objective was Fort Pilum, which was about fifty kilometers east of the Tri-Cities. The fort itself had been built in the days of the Star League as part of Planting's planetary defenses, with low, thick ferrocrete walls protecting several dozen launch silos for surface-to-space nuclear missiles. With the disappearance of WarShips from the Inner Sphere after the Succession Wars, the missiles had long since been removed and the silos filled in.

However, one other aspect of Fort Pilum still remained: eight Long Tom artillery pieces, buried in bunkers impervious to anything but orbital bombardment. Four of those pieces could range on the Eridani dropzones. The good news was that Fort Pilum was designed for minimal staffing, and the automatic loaders for the artillery were controlled from a central control room: take that control room, and the loaders could be switched off. The guns could still fire from local control, but only what shells they had in the bunkers themselves—which would have to be loaded by human muscle power. Theoretically, neutralizing the control room wasn't even Sheila's job, but that of the platoon of Sentinel Light Infantry that was waiting back at Fairfields to be lifted to Fort Pilum, once the Snowbirds had secured a dropzone. Sheila's job was to make that possible, and neutralize the lance of Clan 'Mechs that were garrisoned at Fort Pilum, plus whatever Toads might be present. Aerial reconnaissance passes had indicated that the Star was second-line, Star League-era 'Mechs—still dangerous, but nowhere near as bad as OmniMechs. Taking 28 'Mechs against five was gross overkill, but Sheila didn't mind, and it would give the Snowbirds experience in operating as a unit—an easy win for the new battalion and its new commander.

The Morningside bucked again. If I survive the fucking drop, she groaned inwardly. There was the small issue that the modified Union-class DropShip could only carry 14 'Mechs at a time, which meant that only the Snowbirds' Alpha Company would be able to land first. The Morningside would then take off, dash across the strait, pick up Bravo Company, and come back. Luckily, the Sentinels had modified their Unions to carry two extra 'Mechs, at the expense of the fighter launch bays; Sheila had added Maysa Bari and her Rifleman and Togan Nordkoping and his Warhammer to Tessya's and Max's lances to give them a little more firepower. Once the Snowbirds were all together, Maysa and Togan would rejoin Nutter's lance.

Still, even if the Clan warriors came out to fight the first wave, they would still be outnumbered over two to one. Sheila hoped that they would either hunker down in the fort, or better yet, just leave. The latter thought surprised her, but if she'd ever entertained seeking battle and winning glory, that had disappeared when she had seen Mimi Stykkis' broken body in a hospital bed.

"Snowbird Six, Morningside." It was the voice of Phil Samson, the captain of the DropShip. "TOT six minutes, but I have a new sitrep." TOT was Time On Target, when the Morningside was expected to land.

She heard the worry in Samson's voice. Uh oh. "Morningside, sitrep?"

"Recon sweep ahead of us reports not five 'Mechs at Pilum, but ten, repeat, ten 'Mechs at Pilum. 'Mechs are leaving the fort and headed towards our DZ. What are your intentions, Snowbird Six?" She knew Samson was asking politely if she wanted to abort the mission.

"Morningside, wait one." Even ten second-line 'Mechs would be her superior in firepower, at least until Bravo Company could get there—which would be at least thirty minutes. She keyed the mike. "Morningside, Snowbird Six, did recon say their ETA at DZ?"

"Roger, Snowbird. They said approximately ten minutes after TOT."

That wasn't quite as bad, Sheila mused. The Morningside was to dustoff, dropping off Alpha Company as soon as the DropShip's pads touched ground. She would have to hold the DZ for twenty minutes, or more realistically, thirty. I think we can do that. Sheila wished she could talk to Max or Elfa about it, but it would take too much time. Samson had to know if she was going to abort the mission, so he could reverse the Morningside's downward thrust. Well, that's why you wear the diamond, Sheila. "Morningside, Snowbird. Charlie Mike." Continue Mission: they would land.

"Understood, Snowbird." The respect in Samson's voice quieted Sheila's self-doubt. A little, anyway.

"Morningside, see if you can get some airpower our way. Even if it's only a strafing run. Let Sentinel Six know sitrep."

"Roger, Snowbird, will do. TOT four minutes." Samson paused. "God be with you."

Sheila did switch to the company net now. "Snowbirds, Snowbird Six. Change of mission. We are now facing ten Clan 'Mechs, advancing towards DZ. After dustoff, secure DZ and wait for second element. TOT four minutes. Lance checks."

"Talisman Six, let's do it." Tessya Blackthorn had chosen the callsign Talisman for her recon lance.

"Canis Six, we're with you." Max had kept it simple, using his surname; it was not as if the Clans would notice.

"Okay. Stand by." She went to her lance frequency, and checked in with Kaatha, Marcus Drax, and Felisanna. All sounded ready—at least none of them had a quaver in their voice, which surprised Sheila a bit, as Felisanna was going into her first battle. Then again, the young woman, who dressed like a thrashrock singer getting ready to play a seedy bar, hadn't seemed nervous before they loaded onto the DropShip, either. She's either good at hiding fear or really stupid. Sheila fervently hoped it was the former.

Sheila switched back to the company net just as Samson came on. "Snowbird Six, Morningside, stand by to dustoff." She was pressed back into her seat as the DropShip's retrorockets fired, slowing the massive ship down, then felt the landing pads deploy and audibly lock. She gripped the control sticks on either side of her seat and willed herself not to be afraid, closing her eyes and breathing deeply of the stale air of the cockpit. C'mon, just a bit further…please God, just a bit further… The retrorockets were so powerful and shook the Shruiken hard enough to make Sheila's teeth chatter. It abruptly stopped as the DropShip settled onto the soil of Planting with a heavy thump. The bay doors rolled open, and the cockpit canopy automatically polarized as the bright autumn sun lit up the darkened 'Mech bay.

"Snowbirds, Morningside!" Samson ordered. "Dustoff! Go, go, go!"

"Snowbirds deploying!" Sheila exclaimed, and ran the Shruiken down the ramp before it had even fully touched the ground. Instantly, her fear was gone, as she swept the perimeter of the dropzone with her eyes and sensors. There was nothing there but trees and grassy fields, with a small knoll in the center. Sheila moved towards a thicker copse of trees to the left; beyond those trees would be the shoreline of Blackett Strait. She glanced at the secondary monitor that showed the view behind, and saw Kaatha's Griffin, Drax's Phoenix Hawk, and Felisanna's Panther moving into line behind her. In less than a minute, she was out of the blast radius of the Morningside's powerful engines.

She reached the trees, checked her chronometer, then turned the 'Mech in a full circle. She saw Max's reinforced lance moving towards the knoll: his Battlemaster, Charles Badaxe's massive Atlas, Maria Thyatis' Wolverine, Brefudd Dari's Axeman, and Maysa Bari's Rifleman. Sheila was abruptly reminded that this was Maysa's first fight too, but her Rifleman was showing no hesitation, and moving smoothly into place to cover the lance's rear.

Tessya's lance moved out to secure the northwest corner of the dropzone, fanning out: her Wasp, Philip Scott's odd-looking Aquarius, Tinyak Fernplanter's Panther, and even more incongrous, Fred Matria's Chameleon. Backing up the lighter 'Mech's was Nordkoping's Warhammer, which made her feel a bit better. Light and medium 'Mechs tended to get eaten up all too quickly in this kind of fight.

"Morningside, Snowbird Six, all 'Mechs clear."

"Roger, Snowbird; raising ship. Air support is inbound, callsign Paloma. Good luck, Snowbird." Sheila braced the Shruiken as the DropShip roared back into the sky, leaving a circle of burning grass and felled trees around it, buffeting the Snowbirds. The Morningside rode a white-hot pillar of smoke into the sky, and was soon lost to view.

"Snowbird, Paloma." A new voice came onto the radio.

"Paloma, Snowbird, go."

"Snowbird, Paloma is two Stingrays coming in east to west. What's your position?"

"Paloma, we are at the northwest and southwest corners of DropZone Ruby. Do you need me to pop smoke?"

"Negative, Snowbird; enemy spotted, ten klicks west of your pos, on the road. Raid count looks to be, oh, twelve to fifteen 'Mechs." Sheila's eyes widened behind her neurohelmet's visor—it was now fifteen enemy 'Mechs, not ten; she was now not only outgunned, but outnumbered. And now there was nowhere to run.

"R-Roger, Paloma," Sheila stammered. "Uh, what's your ordnance?"

"Just strafe, Snowbird, but we'll do what we can. We can make two passes before we're skosh fuel."

Sheila decided that was better than nothing: a strafe could still do a lot of damage. She knew Tessya and Max were listening in and knew the odds; she ordered Max's lance to get to a line of trees in front of the knoll to tie in his lance with Tessya and her own.

"Making our run now," Paloma reported. "Paloma's in east to west." The two Aerofighters flashed overhead, just long enough for Sheila to see the Stingrays' distinctive silhouette. A Marik-built fighter, the F-90 Stingray could fight in either space or atmosphere well, thanks to its forward swept wing that made it an excellent dogfighter, if tricky to fly. With a broadside of a PPC, two large lasers, and two medium lasers, they could do some real damage in a strafe.

Sheila watched the two fighters disappear behind the trees, then a moment later, both were climbing hard skyward, with missiles and laserfire in their wake. The lead Stingray took some missile hits, but kept going. "Hey, Nut," she heard Paloma yell at her wingman; Sheila wished she had faces to associate with the two fighter pilots. "Did you see that fucker that hit me? I just lost a damn heat sink."

"Rog, Paloma," a male voice replied. "Looks like a Kintaro."

"A Kintaro? What the hell is that?"

"It looks like a guy."

"Got it. Take the lead on the next pass; I want that bastard."

The Stingrays continued their climb until they were specks, rolled out at the top of their climb, then came down again, exchanging places in the dive. Both were jinking as they did so, but then straightened out. Once more, they disappeared for a moment, then Sheila saw both climbing away, dodging return fire—but now there was a fireball rolling into the air behind them. "Got him!" Paloma crowed. "Okay, Nut, one more pass and then we're bingo." Sheila knew enough fighter pilot lingo that it meant the two Stingrays would only have enough fuel left to make it home.

The two fighters came in north to south this time, and once more, neither were hit as they headed out over the strait. "Snowbird, Paloma. We're bingo minus one and got to head for the barn. I got that Kintaro and I think Nut here shot up a Crab pretty good. Looks like the rest are about five-ten minutes out—we've got them disorganized a bit. I'll let the boss know and get you some more air ASAP."

"Roger, Paloma—thanks."

"Easy day, Snowbird. Good luck to you." The two specks disappeared, and Sheila suddenly felt very alone. She ordered her 'Mechs to close up to the opposite side of the treeline: beyond that was another clearing. She would meet the Jade Falcons at the edge of the dropzone. As they passed through the woods, she saw Max's Battlemaster. She wished she could see her fiancee, blow him a kiss, show her love for him somehow. They had lay in bed the night before, too keyed up to make love, but the warmth had been enough. She continued to look at him, knowing it could be the last time.

"Talisman Six, spot report. Enemy 'Mechs to our front," Tessya reported calmly. Sheila forced those thoughts from her mind. She had to concentrate now, or die—and her battalion would die with her.

---

The Jade Falcons came into the wide clearing, deploying from column formation into three lines—two of five 'Mechs, one of only three, marking which unit had been hit by Paloma's strafing runs. The movement was sharp and well-executed; Sheila found herself admiring her opponent's ability to dress line. They then stopped, just inside effective long range of Sheila's weapons. All of them were Star League-era 'Mechs, she saw: one lance of five had a Bombardier, an Exterminator, a Champion, a Hussar, and a Thorn; the other five-strong lance had a Mongoose, a King Crab, a Sentinel—the irony was not lost on Sheila—a Kintaro, and a Lancelot. Finally, the rear lance, the understrength one, was still impressive: two Thugs and another Bombardier. There were no Toads to be seen, which was something, at least; Sheila was acquiring a real hatred of the little battlearmor.

Her radio crackled to life, startling her; it was the open frequency. "I am Star Captain Cewers of the Sixth Garrison Trinary of the Choyer Garrison Cluster." The voice was male, authoritative. The Bombardier of the closest lance stepped forward a pace. "Fort Pilum is mine to defend. Who do I have the honor of facing?"

Oh, right, Sheila reminded herself. Their weird honor thing. Still, might as well play along. She glanced at the chronometer again. Anything that wastes time. "I am Lieutenant Commander Sheila Arla-Vlata of the Snowbirds Special Missions Combined Arms Team, Sentinels RCAT." She did not step out of cover.

"Good morning, Lieutenant Commander," Cewers said politely. "What forces do you bid for our combat?"

Bid? What the hell…oh, yeah. He wants to tell me what I brought to the party. "My whole force of three lances." You don't need to know two of those lances are reinforced, buddy.

"Aff. In that case, I bid six of my 'Mechs. Will you observe batchall?" Cewers asked.

Sheila had to think about that one, which didn't take long since she had no idea what Cewers was talking about. "Star Captain, my apologies, but I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean."

Cewers sighed in obvious frustration, but whether or not he was about to explain or tell her she was an idiot, Sheila would never know. At that moment, the King Crab stepped out of the line, raising its pincer-like hands in challenge. "I am MechWarrior Voshin! I challenge any of you freebirth barbarians to fight me, if you have the courage!" The 'Mech took another step forward as there was no answer from the confused Snowbirds. "Do not any of you freebirths have balls?" He raised the pincers again.

"Go fuck yourself!" Charles Badaxe shouted, and let fly with a spread of LRM-20 fire from his Atlas. The missiles tore into the King Crab's low torso—all of them, because Voshin had stopped. The sudden onslaught took Voshin by surprise, for the King Crab stumbled backwards and nearly fell.

"The challenge has been—" Cewers began, but was cut off as Drax shot the King Crab with his large laser. An audible roar of indignation rose up from the Jade Falcons, and the warriors surged forward, opening fire. Most of their shots missed, hitting the trees, and Sheila ordered her unit back, firing in steps. The battle was on.

---

Togan Nordkoping was a veteran MechWarrior, a man who had experienced his first battle in the Fourth Succession War as part of the legendary Rasalhagian Tyr Regiment. He had volunteered for the Snowbirds because it reminded him of the wild days of the Tyr, when the Rasalhagian expatriates took their war for independence to the hated Dragon of House Kurita. He had not joined the Free Rasalhague Republic after that nation had declared independence, because by then he had found a new home in the Sentinels.

He grinned as the King Crab moved forward, obviously headed towards Badaxe's Atlas, but he was in no mood to be sporting. He fired one of the PPCs from his Warhammer and tore more armor from the flat torso of the assault 'Mech. It fired LRMs back at him, crashing into the Warhammer's armor, but then Nordkoping had a new target: the Hussar, which was sprinting through the woods to flank Sheila's command lance. I wonder if the Clans uparmored that thing, he thought, and fired both PPCs and medium lasers at it, ignoring the heat that washed through the cockpit and started sweat from his exposed skin, and an alarm that warned him that the Warhammer was overheating some. The lasers missed, but the PPCs did not, and Nordkoping saw that the Clans had indeed not uparmored the notoriously thinly armored Hussar. It crashed to the ground and skidded into a thick tree, then lay unmoving, on fire and sparking. He then turned his attention back to the King Crab, settling for a single PPC shot this time. This one hit as well, and the assault 'Mech now began to seek cover, its armor scored and broken—there was still plenty left, but even a mighty King Crab could only take so much. "Not so haughty now, eh?" Nordkoping said aloud; despite himself, he was having fun. "Let's see if you're any better than the Snakes."

---

Maria Thyatis was not having as much luck, much less fun; in fact, she was quite sure she was about to die. The Champion came at her, radioing a challenge; the two 'Mechs were the same tonnage, though Thyatis was sure that it outgunned her. She had answered with a PPC shot and a salvo of SRMs—her Wolverine was a Kurita variant, giving up the AC/5 for the heavier punch and added heat of a PPC. The Champion absorbed both and kept coming, raking her with missiles of its own and a laser or two. She twisted to one side to avoid the huge bore of an autocannon, but Thyatis was a bit too slow, and a shotgun blast of shells spewed from the gun. Maria stumbled backwards from the heavy hit, throwing up the Wolverine's right arm to protect her cockpit from being hit. Warning alarms warbled, telling her that her 'Mech's right arm and most of the right leg's armor were gone. Worse, the Champion was beginning to circle behind her, and the Exterminator had arrived.

Thyatis did not know that the Exterminator was not interested in her; the old veteran Jade Falcon that piloted it was disgusted that the Inner Sphere freebirths were not honoring batchall, but he was determined that his honor would be intact, at least. Though it would be tempting to help his starmate finish off the Wolverine, that would be dishonorable, so he looked for a more worthy target. He found one when Charles Badaxe stepped his Atlas out of the trees. He turned to fight, but Badaxe opened up with everything the Atlas had, except the LRMs—and those only because he was within their minimum range. He had no heat issues: his Atlas had been fitted with the new double heat sinks, a gift from his rich father that Badaxe really had not wanted to accept, but was now thankful for.

Lasers and SRMs tore through the armor of the Exterminator, but it was the AC/20 that did the most damage, blasting through the torso and ripping apart the heavy 'Mech's gyro. The Exterminator toppled forward in mid-stride to land at Badaxe's feet. The Jade Falcon MechWarrior managed to rise up enough to fire two medium lasers from the Exterminator's right arm, but it was like throwing a pie at a train. With a whoop, Badaxe drew back the Atlas' huge foot and delivered a savage kick to the Exterminator, finshing off the gyro and doing engine damage as well. The Clan 'Mech stayed down. "Hey, Maria!" Badaxe yelled, forgetting callsigns in the heat of the moment. "You see that? I got the son of a bitch! I got the son of a bitch!"

---

"Canis Two, Snowbird Six," Sheila radioed. "Shut the fuck up, clear the channel, and go kill something else." She put two PPC shots into the Sentinel, whose MechWarrior quickly realized that she had picked the wrong target and went to look for something more her 40-ton size. Her command lance was engaged by the Bombardier, who had evidently picked Kaatha, while the Thorn circled around Drax's Phoenix Hawk and ripped up its rear armor. Sheila tapped her jumpjet pedals and leapt behind the Thorn, at perfect range for her PPCs. Her skin prickled with the heat of firing both after a jump, but both azure bolts sizzled into the Thorn's back: the light 'Mech arched backwards, eerily humanlike, then collapsed backwards and exploded as the LRM magazine detonated. To her surprise, the 20-ton 'Mech was still alive and was trying to get back up, so like Badaxe, she finished it off with a kick. "Snowbird Three," she instructed Drax, "engage that Bombardier on Snowbird Two. I'll help. Snowbird Four, where are you?"

"Snowbird Six, Four, I'm on this Mongoose over here! I've got him cornered!" Sheila glanced over and saw the Mongoose and the Panther circling each other—the Clan 'Mech had a definite speed advantage, but Felisanna's 'Mech had jumpjets.

"Roger that; keep him occupied. Snowbird Two, back off and help Four." Kaatha clicked her mike twice in reply, fired a PPC shot at the Bombardier that went wide, then jumped away, avoiding two flights of LRMs, to go help her daughter. Whatever differences existed between them was gone as they worked as a team to kill the Mongoose.

---

Maysa Bari was in her first battle, and knew she should be utterly petrified with fear. She wasn't, and wasn't sure if that was a bad sign or a good one.

She had backed her Rifleman up and behind the knoll, which gave her heavy 'Mech some cover. Maysa spotted the Lancelot, which she remembered was the same tonnage as her 'Mech, and dropped both arms to track it. She had modified her 'Mech to carry four large lasers instead of the normal two and the autocannons, using the armor savings for more heat sinks. The crosshairs superimposed on her Heads-Up Display pulsed gold, indicating a lock, just as the Lancelot's pilot noticed her and turned to face the Rifleman. She squinted slightly and pulled three of three of the four triggers, gasping as her 'Mech instantly overheated—but her shots were deadly. All three hit, taking off the Lancelot's right arm at its shoulder.

The Clan warrior fired back with his remaining arm-mounted large laser and a PPC, but Maysa shifted the Rifleman slightly, and both shots missed, tearing into the knoll in front of her. The Jade Falcon was faster on the draw than she was, and two medium lasers sliced into the Rifleman's thin armor—but it managed to hold, Maysa absently making a mental note that she could remove a heat sink for some extra armor. This time, she only fired two of her large lasers, but once more they were accurate, slicing into the Lancelot's right leg at the hip. The 'Mech staggered and halted as the Jade Falcon warrior struggled to keep his machine on its feet, and Maysa moved around the knoll. A large laser slammed into the Rifleman's left torso, but she noted that it was down more than two-thirds of its armor and kept moving. Her third volley melted through the right leg's ferroaluminum bone, which snapped; the Lancelot went down hard in a spray of dirt. As the Lancelot struggled to roll over and fire its remaining arm, Maysa ignored the heat and fired three lasers again, tearing this arm off as well. She felt kind of bad, shooting a 'Mech when it was down, but could hear her mother, telling her to finish the bastard, because he'd do the same to her.

She heard a voice over her radio. "Rifleman MechWarrior. I am MechWarrior Sech in the Lancelot. I surrender. I am no longer able to resist."

"Uh…" Maysa hesitated. Her mother had never said anything about taking prisoners, but she was definitely not going to simply execute the poor man. That wouldn't be very fair at all. The MechWarriors never did that in the books and vids she watched. What would the Immortal Warrior do? "Um, sure, uh, MechWarrior Sech. I'm MechWarrior Maysa Bari. Just stay there, okay? If you get up, I'll have to…well, I'll have to kill you." Maysa tried to sound tough and ruthless, like her adopted mother Marion Rhialla, but knew her high-pitched voice wasn't good at intimidating much of anything.

Nonetheless, her monitors detected the Lancelot powering down. "Your prisoner, MechWarrior Bari."

Wow, Maysa thought. This is pretty easy. Wonder why everyone said it was so scary? She made another check of her armor, then moved out, looking for another target.

---

Max slammed the control sticks sideways, and his Battlemaster dodged two PPC shots from one of the Thugs. His opponent was no novice, and showed it—if he wasn't hitting with his PPCs, he was battering away at the Battlemaster with its SRMs, which seemed to never miss, and Max wasn't doing much damage in return with his lasers. The good news was that the tough Battlemaster was taking the damage, and he also had the new double heat sinks, which meant that Max could give nearly as good as he could take—if he could hit the Thug, that is. For an 80-ton assault 'Mech that was no more maneuverable than his 'Mech, the Thug was proving an elusive target.

Suddenly, the Thug slipped and almost fell, as it tried to advance forward through a row of brambles. Max immediately ran forward to blast it with a volley from his medium lasers, but the Thug straightened up, and Max realized he had just fallen for one of the oldest MechWarrior tricks in the book. Abruptly both arms came up and Max was staring down the barrels of twin PPCs. With an oath, he threw the Battlemaster to one side as the Thug's warrior fired everything it had.

It saved his life. One PPC bolt missed, while the other smashed the Battlemaster's PPC to junk; only one SRM volley actually hit, scattering across his 'Mech, with one missile starring the armored canopy. Lasers sliced into his legs, and Max felt the Battlemaster going over. He hastily fired back, and at the close range they were at, his shots connected as well, tearing into the upper torso and leaving a glowing crimson trail across the squat head of the Thug. The Jade Falcon MechWarrior was now the one taken by surprise, and as the Battlemaster slumped into the mud, the Thug crashed backwards into it.

Max checked and was relieved to find himself in one piece; the seatbelts had held, this time. The Thug was splayed backwards and stirring weakly, which meant that the MechWarrior inside had probably had the wind knocked out of him. As Max started getting the Battlemaster back up, he was hit by a spread of LRMs, and saw the other Bombardier closing in; this was one Clan warrior who was not trying to be very honorable.

As the Thug began to get back up, Max knew he was in real trouble. "Canis Six to anyone! I'm down! I need help—I'm engaged with two of the bastards!"

---

Sheila left off firing at the Bombardier she was engaged with for a moment and heard Max's call. She looked around frantically, but couldn't see him, blocked by the treeline. "Canis Six, where are you?" She thought she saw the other Bombardier, and began to move in that direction, when another voice came up on the company net.

"Snowbird Six, Eve of Destruction. TOT three minutes. Clear DZ Ruby for Bravo Company."

What the—Eve of Destruction? That's one of the other DropShips! Sheila realized what had happened: Calla Bighorn-Vlata, learning that a company of Snowbirds was engaged with a superior foe, must have loaded the rest of her battalion into one of the other Unions. She looked up and saw the DropShip descending through the clouds. On its present course, it would land right on top of them, which would probably destroy most of the Clan 'Mechs, but wouldn't do her any good either. She quickly looked at her map display, which showed another large clearing to the north: the alternate dropzone, DZ Rose. As she looked in that direction—somehow managing to do that and fire her lasers at the Bombardier, which was falling back—she realized that she would have to mark the new dropzone…which meant abandoning Max. It was the battalion or her lover.

And that was no choice at all.

"Canis Two, help Canis Six." Sheila hoped Badaxe was still around, somewhere. "Eve of Destruction, Snowbird Six. DZ Ruby is closed—use DZ Rose to the north. Can you see it?"

"Ah, negative, Snowbird Six, not from our angle. Can you mark the DZ?"

She had been afraid of that. Sheila quickly took in the descending DropShip, the dropzone, and ran her Shruiken up to full speed. "Eve, Snowbird Six, home in on my signal and follow me to DZ Rose!" The DropShip captain acknowledged, and Sheila raced across the clearing, past Maysa's Rifleman, which was systematically forcing back the Kintaro, and shut Max from her mind. She jumped over a thin line of trees and ended up in DZ Rose, which luckily was deserted. "Eve, Snowbird Six! I'm standing in DZ Rose! I'm popping smoke!" She fired off the Shruiken's smoke launchers, which sent white curls of smoke around her.

"Snowbird Six, Eve, I've got white smoke. DZ in sight—better clear the zone." Sheila jumped back into the firefight and headed for Max as the Eve of Destruction settled onto DropZone Rose. Even as it settled on its pads, the missile and gunports irised open on the egglike ship and began opening fire on the Clan 'Mechs. DropShips were not normally risked in ground combat—they were too valuable—but the Eve of Destruction soon lived up to its name.

The Battle for DropZone Ruby did not last much longer after that.

Near Fort Pilum

Planting, Jade Falcon Occupation Zone

28 September 3050

Maysa Bari opened the hatch to her Rifleman. Cool air flowed in to the cockpit and she smiled in relief. "I've got to get double heat sinks in this thing," she said aloud. She was covered in sweat, but it dried in the air. Seeing that other MechWarriors were getting out of their machines—the newly arrived lances were taking up security around the perimeter, and what was left of the Jade Falcons were in full retreat—she unstrapped, took off her neurohelmet, and got out of her 'Mech, climbing down to the ground. Maysa checked her hands: they were steady. I'm supposed to be scared. I'm supposed to be kissing the ground because I'm glad to have just survived. Instead, this was easier than a sim. What's wrong with me? Then she gave a shrug. Oh well.

Maysa, rebraiding her short hair, went over to where the Clan MechWarrior prisoners were being gathered up by the Sentinels Light Infantry troopers. None of them resisted. As she drew closer, she saw one of the Jade Falcons, who looked to be about the same age as her adopted mother, shouting at one of the SLI infantrymen, who looked mildly annoyed. "You do not understand!" the Clansman exclaimed. "I want to meet the woman who destroyed my 'Mech with such expert shots! Her name is Maysa Bari!"

"Your name is shit if you don't shut up," the SLI trooper growled.

"Wait!" Maysa ran over. She stopped next to the SLI trooper. "I'm Maysa. You must be MechWarrior Sech."

Sech looked at her and his eyes went wide as saucers. He stared at her, taking in the childlike face, her short stature, and the obviously new cooling vest, shorts, and boots—unlike those of Marion Rhialla or even Sheila Arla-Vlata, the vest showed no wear, the boots still had a bit of shine. "This is a joke, quiaff?"

"Um, no," Maysa corrected gently. "I'm the one you're looking for. I was in the Rifleman."

"But…you…you are a girl! A child! How old are you?" Sech asked in amazement.

"Er, I'm sixteen." Now even the SLI trooper was staring at her in disbelief.

"A child!" Sech repeated. "A mere…I have twenty-five solo 'Mech kills. Twenty-five! How many do you have?"

Maysa held up a single finger. "One, sir."

Sech's mouth dropped open. The SLI trooper started laughing, and the absurdity swept into the prisoners, who started laughing as well. One of them slapped an astounded Sech on the back. The Jade Falcon simply shook his head and sat down. Maysa wanted to apologize or something, but then Rhialla started yelling at her to quit fraternizing with the enemy, so she gave kind of an embarrassed curtsey and walked off.

---

Sheila ran the Shruiken at full speed to Max's last position, leaving Elfa to tidy up the perimeter. She reached what she thought it was, a copse of smashed trees and scattered 'Mech parts—including the arm of a Battlemaster. "Canis Six, Snowbird Six, come in!" Sheila pleaded. Not seeing the wreck of Max's 'Mech was good news—unless it was buried beneath the fallen trees. She spotted the burning remains of the other Bombardier, a victim of direct fire from the DropShip. She radioed again and got only static.

Finally, her radio popped. "Snowbird Six, Canis Six. On your right." Sheila whirled her 'Mech around and saw the Battlemaster, coming out of the trees. It was missing an arm and the PPC looked destroyed, and if there was a spot that Max had not been hit, she couldn't see it. But the canopy was intact, and she saw him waving to her.

Sheila switched over to tightbeam, not wanting to broadcast her relief and fear to the whole battalion. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry I didn't respond. My comm gear got hit, and I've only got line of sight."

"Oh, thank God," Sheila breathed. "I'm sorry—I couldn't help—the DropShip was coming down, and I had to find a new DZ, and I'm so sorry—"

"Sheila," Max interrupted her. "It's all right."

"Snowbird Six, Brownoak Six." Elfa broke into the battalion net. "Come in."

Sheila tried to convey an apology with her eyes, and keyed the radio. "Snowbird Six, go."

"Snowbird, we're 15 minutes behind schedule. The 50th Heavy lands in 43 minutes."

"Brownoak Six, Snowbird—understood." Sheila knew she had to become the commander again, not the woman who was terrified she'd lost the man she loved. "Talisman Six, sitrep."

"Snowbird Six, report two 'Mechs crippled—Canis Three and Snowbird Three." That meant Maria Thyatis and her Wolverine, and Marcus Drax and his Phoenix Hawk. "No casualties reported. Confirm seven enemy 'Mechs destroyed, three probables. All other enemy 'Mechs retreating to the north."

"Talisman, roger." Sheila looked at Max's Battlemaster, and made a decision—one that she made on tactical grounds, not personal ones. "Make that three 'Mechs—Canis Six has lost comms and is badly damaged. Canis Two, you're with Box Lance. Canis Four, you're with me." Both Charles Badaxe and Brefudd Dari acknowledged. "Brownoak, I want you and Talisman to take point. Nut Six, I want your bunch to stay here with the cripples and keep the DZ open, just in case the Clanners double back. Everyone else moves out behind Brownoak and Talisman. Advance in five minutes. Snowbird out."

Sheila sent a quick tightbeam to Max to let him know he was staying behind. He told her he understood, but he heard the concern and reluctance in his voice. Feeling terrible, Sheila left him and formed up her lance.

---

"Huh. Thought it would be bigger," Tooriu quipped on the open net.

"Sounds like what my last date said," Philip Scott commented.

"Can the chatter," Sheila ordered, though she had to smile. She also had to agree. She'd seen the reconnaissance holos and even helped build a crude sand table of Fort Pilum, but the word fort had evoked an image of a massive fortress, with stone battlements and mysterious, high towers—like the Triad on Tharkad or the Imperial Palace on Luthien. Of course, Fort Pilum had none of that: in the age of mechanized warfare, artillery, to say nothing of 'Mechs, would reduce such a castle to rubble in minutes. Fort Pilum did have high walls, three stories high, but they were covered in earth with a concrete center, sloped to reduce the effects of artillery. There were two gates, both heavily reinforced steel. The Long Toms were in deep, fortified casemates that she could not see from here, impervious to airstrikes. However, the walls were not particularly wide, and she could simply jump over them in her 'Mech. Fort Pilum's biggest defense would have been its 'Mech garrison, which the Snowbirds had eliminated—she hoped.

There were also the Toads that were inside. A quick interrogation of the Clan prisoners revealed that there were about twenty of the battlearmored infantry still present—the Jade Falcons had called them Elementals, and they seemed insulted to hear the Inner Sphere nickname. Twenty did not seem like much, but that was assuming the prisoners had told the truth, or that there was not another 'Mech unit inside that she didn't know about. She had already been surprised once this day. Sheila twisted around in the seat and looked out of the armored windshield. High in the sky were the vapor trails of DropShips—the 50th Heavy Cavalry. They were still thirty minutes out, but the seconds were ticking off.

"Brownoak Six, Snowbird. Take your lance and Talisman around to the left. Keep up your fire on the walls if you see targets, but stay out of the range of the Toads."

"Snowbird, Talisman," Tessya replied. "Half my 'Mechs won't be able to shoot either."

"The Clanners don't know that, Talisman. You're my stalking horse. Move out."

Elfa and Tessya acknowledged, and the two lances loped off to the south, towards the narrow beach that separated Fort Pilum from Blackett Strait. All eight 'Mechs opened fire on the walls, trying to draw return fire. There was none. Then, as Fernplanter's Panther moved closer, a flight of SRMs came spiraling from the top of the wall, smashing into the light 'Mech's leg. Fernplanter quickly jumped out of range and Elfa fired back with her large laser, but that answered Sheila's question if the fort still had its defenders. As if to underscore that, her 'Mech shook as all eight Long Toms opened fire. The batteries could not train on her, but after a minute, Sheila saw earth erupt distantly on the plain beyond her dropzones—where the Eridani battalion would land. The artillery crews were finding the range.

"Tiger One, stay in overwatch," Sheila ordered. "Box, follow me."

"Right with you, Snowbird," Tooriu answered.

They moved forward, with Kaatha splitting to Sheila's left and Dari to her right, without being ordered to do so; Felisanna held back to cover the rear. They ran towards the eastern entrance, a massive door that reminded her of the ones at Jestin Ridge on Persistence. Two SRMs suddenly lofted up from the wall to the left of the door; both fell short. "Enemy contact!" Felisanna sang out. "Toads, eleven o'clock, range 120!" She skidded her Panther to a stop and fired her PPC, tearing a divot out of the wall.

"Box, paste the wall!" Sheila shouted. Tooriu stopped his lance, and all three Archers opened up with their LRM-20s. 120 missiles snaked over Sheila's head to erupt on the walls, and kept coming. Smart move, putting all those in the Fire Lance, Sheila thought to herself, and kept moving towards the door.

The sun was suddenly blotted out. Sheila twisted the Shruiken around, only to have her canopy filled with the sight of the huge Atlas. Badaxe was running forward as fast as the 100-ton 'Mech could carry him—which was not very fast, but the sheer mass made it seem like it was moving faster. She watched in amazement as he charged the door, without orders. Okay, Chuck, she thought, recovering from the fright he had given her, you want to show the world the size of your balls, go for it. "Snowbird Two, go to Canis Two's left! I'll take the right with Snowbirds Three and Four—when we hit the gate, jump the walls!"

"Snowbird Two, wilco." Kaatha sounded bored. Sheila shifted to one side, behind the Atlas. A few brave Elementals stuck their heads above the parapet, braving the LRM salvos, and fired at Badaxe. The lasers and SRMs did exactly nothing to stop him, who opened fire with the AC/20, tearing into the door. The Elementals paid with their bravery with their life, as Tooriu killed them with his PPCs.

Then she was at the gate, and Sheila stomped both pedals down. The Shruiken instantly rose on silvery jets of plasma, blasting all 75 tons into the air. She cleared the crest with ten meters to spare, and saw a glimpse of the Clan battlearmor watching her as she went; in her peripheral vision, she saw Kaatha making the same jump. Then she was jarred roughly as the Shruiken landed in the fort's central square—two square kilometers of ferrocrete. She turned around to see two Elementals actually following her into the jump. She began to raise her PPC arm when ruby beams swatted both out of the air. They crumpled to the ground and began to get up, only to be knocked down again as Dari's Axeman landed next to them.

"Snowbird Four! I need help!" Sheila twisted around in the opposite direction to see five Elementals headed for Felisanna's Panther; the inexperienced MechWarrior had landed on the parapet rather than in the square. She fired her SRM-4 at them, but it seemed to have little effect. At close range, her PPC would be ineffective as well. Already one Elemental was climbing onto the right foot of the Panther.

"Four, Six, on my way." Sheila made a brief sprint in that direction, engaging the Elementals with her medium lasers, then raised her left arm and fired the one-shot SRM-2. Two missiles hit the Elementals to Felisanna's left and exploded short of them. A wave of flame covered two of the Clan infantry as the Inferno fluid ignited when it contacted the air. Sheila was surprised to see the two Elementals come rolling out of the flames, on fire but not dead, but it certainly took them out of the fight. The Elemental who had been crawling onto the Panther was knocked off by Sheila's laserfire, but it was only a stay of execution: as the battlearmor started to rise, Felisanna lifted one foot and stomped the Clan warrior to a gruesome death.

Sheila jumped in her seat as suddenly the huge metal door sagged inward and collapsed inside with a bang audible through the canopy and over the battle noise. Badaxe had weakened them with the AC/20, then hit it at a full run. Now the Atlas strode forward through the gate, the skull grin of the 'Mech's head making the sight even more frightening. Badaxe contemptously kicked what was left of the gate and entered the fort like a conqueror.

---

The fight with the remaining Elementals was brutal, and short. Sheila kept the Snowbirds in a tighter formation than usual, knowing the vicious battleamor could pick off 'Mechs that got separated, as they almost had to Felisanna. Once the rest of the unit was inside Fort Pilum, the Elementals never had a chance. A few escaped, following the rest of their comrades to the north; the ones that resisted died, crumpling under concentrated PPC or laserfire—or Gauss rounds, as Marion Rhialla arrived with the two Palladiums. Sheila only fired twice more during the rest of the fight, directing her battalion. After five minutes of fighting, it was over. Only three Elementals raised their hands in surrender.

As she did a quick patrol of the fort's perimeter to ensure there were no holdouts, Sheila saw two Lynx hovertanks glide through the open doorway. The Lynx was an armored personnel carrier, with a squat turret on top and three medium lasers; it could carry twelve infantry in relative comfort, but its thin armor meant that it was essentially a battle taxi, designed to run in, drop off its cargo, and dash back out again. The Lynxes did not have to do that this time, and both glided to a halt in the middle of the rough semicircle of Snowbird 'Mechs.

Sheila stopped her 'Mech next to the Lynxes, and seeing one of armored infantry waving to her, opened the canopy and climbed down, praying there wasn't a hidden, enterprising Clan sniper around waiting for stupid battalion commanders to show themselves. Probably for that reason, the lanky woman who waited for her did not salute her. Sheila had to read the woman's nametape on her battle gear; she had only met her once, and then only briefly. "Captain Jackson?"

Mikkansia Jackson nodded, but did not smile; Sheila had the feeling that she was the type of soldier who rarely did. Except for her face, which was pleasant enough, and the black hair caught at the nape of her neck in the same ponytail Sheila wore, Jackson's femininity was lost in the uniform she wore. The Sentinel Light Infantry wore Davion-pattern camouflage smocks, heavy body armor, and the older AFFS helmet, rather than the Steiner-pattern AFFC fishbowl. She was also heavily armed, with a Ryonex submachinegun over one shoulder, a Sternsnacht heavy pistol on her left hip, several grenades on her belt, and the SLI's trademark: a collapsible naginata on the opposite shoulder from the Ryonex. The SLI was considered elite, the naginata as much their trademark as the kukri knife had been for the ancient Gurkha battalions.

Sheila did a quick head count, and came up short. There were only sixteen of them. "Captain, where's the rest of your platoon?"

"Bloody cock-up back at Fairfields," Jackson scowled. "When the boss heard that you were in trouble, we got rushed into the DropShip. The other half of the platoon and our heavy weapons unit is still back at Fairfields. God only knows when they'll get here. Of course, with your 'Mechs here, we don't need the heavy weapons, but still."

"Can you take the fort with what you have?"

"It depends on what they have in there." Jackson shrugged. "If they're mostly gun bunnies and light infantry, then I should be able to." She motioned at one of the dead Elementals, lying in the square about twenty feet away, half of the armor gone from a large laser hit. Dark blood and a black oil-like substance pooled beneath it. "The corridors in there are probably too tight for any of that lot, I would guess."

Sheila noticed that Jackson was staring at the MechWarriors, half of which were getting out of their 'Mechs to get some fresh air, joking and slapping each other on the back. The Snowbirds had suffered no casualties yet. "Captain?"

"Do you think I could borrow eight of your people, Lieutenant Commander?" Jackson said, with barely the tone of voice to make it a request.

Sheila blinked. "Uh, Captain, my people are MechWarriors."

"I'm quite aware of that, Lieutenant Commander." Sheila bit back a retort; the Sentinels habitually referred to their Lieutenant Commanders as simply Commander. Adding the lieutenant was an insult. "I need them to backstop my people, that's all."

"But—"

"Lieutenant Commander, I assume they have gone through basic training?" Sheila nodded. "Then they know how to use a firearm. That's all I need." Jackson paused. "I will assault with what I have in any case, but having eight more people will make victory rather more certain, Lieutenant Commander."

Okay, bitch, Sheila thought darkly, let's see how you react to this. "Very well, Captain," Sheila replied. "I'll meet you at the entrance to the control center in five minutes with eight volunteers. I'll be one of them."

Jackson was the one to blink this time. "Ah, Lieut—Commander, that's inadvisable. You are the battalion commander, and your father—"

"Thanks for remembering that I'm the battalion commander," Sheila cut her off. "And my father's not here."

"But…your safety—"

"I'm not going to ask any of my people to do what I'm not willing to do," Sheila said. "Besides, my mother has trained me in close-quarter fighting since I was old enough to walk."

Jackson hesitated again, then the stone face returned. "Very well, Lieutenant Commander. Five minutes." She turned on one heel and started yelling at her half-platoon to follow her.

---

The SLI platoon had taken up position around a concrete blast door. The fort was ominously quiet, broken only by the wind and the distant crackle of flames where dead Elementals and Sheila's Inferno rounds still burned. Even the Long Toms had ceased fire: having sighted in the guns, they were waiting for the Eridani 'Mechs to land. There were no further attempts to leave the fort's casemates, even though the wall was dotted with doors like this: just in case there were, Maysa Bari had followed the SLI and Sheila's volunteer squad with her Rifleman.

The MechWarriors Sheila had chosen now wore fatigues they had pulled out of their 'Mech's storage lockers and borrowed flak jackets from the SLI. None wore helmets: the neurohelmets MechWarriors wore were armored to resist getting knocked around in the cockpit, not to absorb bullets. Besides herself, the volunteers were Tooriu, Kaatha, Tessya, Togan Nordkoping, and Alfred Dennison. Togan and Alfred had been infantry before transferring over to 'Mechs; Kaatha elected herself Sheila's bodyguard, and Tessya had learned hand-to-hand fighting from her tribespeople back home. Tooriu was just there because he wanted to be. They had been joined by Frederick Matria, who had been to Fort Pilum before, and, much to Sheila's chagrin, Max. The rest of the Snowbirds had moved up to the fort when she reported the courtyard taken, abandoning the dropzones; the Eve of Destruction had already returned to Fairfields. She was not happy about Max volunteering, but knew if she turned him down, it would look like exactly what it was: her love for her fiancee clouding her judgement. She wanted to know why Max had volunteered at all, and had a feeling she knew why.

The SLI distributed what extra weapons they had. Most of Sheila's ersatz squad, including herself, carried more Ryonexes, while Max and Tooriu carried pump shotguns. Matria had the only assault rifle—a Federated Long Rifle he had stashed in his Chameleon—and Dennison had a pair of Sternsnachts he carried in hip holsters like a cowboy. All of the MechWarriors carried gravity knives in their boots, but as Sheila watched, Tessya removed a wicked-looking slim blade from hers, testing the edge. It looked like a skinning knife, and then Sheila realized that was exactly what it was.

Jackson looked over the MechWarriors, shook her head in either disapproval or wonderment, then spread out a map on the ground. It was an interior layout of Fort Pilum. The batteries were set up in a triangular pattern, with two batteries to each side. The ones facing out to sea were no threat, but the six pointed landward were. The control center was at the apex of the triangle. "According to the information we have," Jackson said, "each battery is in a self-contained, armored casemate. They have plenty of food and water, so it's not a matter of simply locking the door on them. The good news is, it's very doubtful that they are front-line troops of any kind—they're artillerymen, gun bunnies, who point and shoot. The autoloaders for the Long Toms raise shells from the underground magazines. Once we take the control center, we can shut those off, and maybe the artillery crews just surrender, or kill themselves, or whatever Clanners do. Any questions so far?"

There were none, so Jackson continued. "We'll divide up into three squads: mine, Moose's, and Andy's. I'll attach two MechWarriors to each squad." She thumbed towards the blast door. "We're not going that way—if I was the Clanner defending this place, I'd put a machine gun facing the door to kill any clever arse to come through the door. However, we will make them think we're coming through the door." Jackson pointed to the Rifleman. "Commander, that's where that comes in. Who's the MechWarrior in there?"

"Maysa Bari," Sheila answered.

Jackson's eyebrows rose. She recognized the name. "Are you serious?" Sheila nodded. "Well, whatever. I want her to burn through the door. I know it'll take awhile, but I don't care. We just have to make them think that we're coming that way." She pointed to the wall above the door. "We'll go in through the escape hatch up there. My people are already taking out any cameras. We blow the hatch, drop through, and take the control room. Once we've secured that, Moose and Andy will go through the ladderwells here and here—" she indicated the map "—and secure the casemates. My squad will act as a reserve." Jackson looked up at Sheila. "Commander, I apologize for my poor manners earlier. However, I am in command once we enter the fort. All right?"

Sheila nodded again. Jackson was the most experienced; this was her specialty. "You're the boss, Captain."

There was just the ghost of a smile. "Very good, Commander. Let's go. We should have the fort secured the moment the first Eridani 'Mech touches down."

---

They scrambled up the walls, using ladders set into the interior for that purpose. The control room had an armored bunker that faced north, but whoever was in the room could not see into the fort itself—and what cameras they had the SLI had destroyed. Maysa fired her large lasers, switching between them to keep her 'Mech from overheating, and the door began to melt. It was designed to prevent what she was doing, so it would be nearly an hour before she got through, but as Jackson had said, it was also just a diversion.

The locks on the emergency hatch were badly rusted, showing it had not been used in some time. Moving as quietly as they could, three SLI troopers laid detonation cord around the hatch. Jackson motioned the rest down, then crawled forward with the trooper she called Moose; Sheila could see why. He was nearly as big as the Elementals. He held the detonator. Jackson took two grenades off her belt and pulled the pins, holding down the spoons. She nodded to Moose and ducked down as he detonated the explosive cord.

The SLI demolitions had been set well. The force was projected downwards, dropping the hatch down the egress shaft. The dust had not even cleared from the explosion before Jackson pulled her fingers away from the spoons and dropped both grenades down the shaft. There were two more explosions, muffled by the distance, and Sheila thought she heard a scream. Then another SLI trooper, a woman smaller than even Maysa, leapt up, grabbed the ladder, and slid straight down, out of sight. Jackson followed. Sheila heard gunfire, and more screams. "Moose!" Jackson's voice drifted up from the shaft. The big man was up and sliding out of sight. Sheila crouched, waiting, even as another three SLI troopers took up position around the hatch. Then Jackson's voice came again. "Control room secure! Charlie Mike!"

They all went down the hatch as quickly as they could, though Sheila settled for actually climbing down the ladder, rather than holding onto the sides and sliding down. She dropped into the control room and coughed; the smoke from the grenades was still drifting around the room. It was a large room, easily able to fit all of them, lit only by emergency red lighting and the two remaining radar screens; the others had been blown out by the grenade explosions. The mangled remains of one man, wearing a green jumpsuit, lay crumpled in a corner. Two others lay unmoving on the floor, their bodies peppered with bullets. Two SLI troopers were holding a survivor against the wall, and Sheila was sure this was an Elemental, out of his armor; he was twice the size of the two people guarding him. He looked dazed, blood oozing from shrapnel wounds in his legs.

Sheila jumped as gunfire came from the spiral staircases in the control room's corners. The SLI were already heading down that way, and Sheila moved towards the one on the right. Jackson grabbed her and shoved her back. There was a pause in the shooting, and Andy came running up the stairs; Sheila wondered what his last name was, as she had yet to hear it, and he didn't wear a nametape. Jackson was the only one who did. "What's going on?" she asked.

"They've got a fire team down there. Reacted a lot faster than we thought," Andy admitted. "Sounds like they might be bringing up that heavy MG from the entrance, too."

"Damn. We'll need everyone, then. All right, let's move!" Jackson shouted, pumping a fist in the air. She pointed at Sheila. "You stay here." Sheila opened her mouth to protest, but Jackson raised a hand. "You said I was in command. I need you here to radio when we've secured the fort." She pointed to Matria next, then to the short SLI woman who had been first down the shaft. "Find the autoloader controls and shut them off, MechWarrior. Lisa, you stay here and keep an eye on that big bastard. If he twitches wrong, shoot him." The Elemental didn't hear her; he had slumped down the wall, unconscious, shock finally setting in.

Sheila wanted to argue, but knew Jackson was right. Besides, she was the battalion commander, and battalion commanders didn't go running around playing infantry. Use your brain, Sheila, she told herself. "Good luck, Captain."

"Thank you, Commander." Jackson went down the rightmost stairs; Andy led his squad down the other. Max squeezed Sheila's hand as he went past. Sheila watched him go, said a quick prayer, and then helped Matria look for the autoloader controls.

---

Max followed Moose's team down the corridor, which was wide enough for two men—or one Moose. The tunnels branched off into living quarters, generator rooms, and a kitchen. Moose counted off people to check the rooms, leaving Max with him. He pointed towards a bunkroom, and Max readied the shotgun, his heart pounding. He knew he had no business being here with these professionals, but he had something to prove—not to Sheila, but himself. He had tasted real, almost paralyzing fear back at the DZ, and now he wanted to know if it was a fluke.

He jumped, startled by the metallic sound of the Ryonexes firing from down the corridor. There was no answering fire and Moose looked unconcerned, so Max figured that the SLI were simply doing reconnaissance by fire.

The bunks in the living quarters were triple-tiered, reaching nearly to the ceiling. A cup of coffee was on the reading table in the middle, and Moose reached out and touched it. Still warm, he mouthed to Max, and motioned forward for Max to check the bunk tier on the right, while he took the left. Max gave him a nod, swallowed, and moved forward. He noticed that one middle bunk had the covers bunched up, like someone had thrown them aside. Or someone's hiding under them, he thought. He reached out with the shotgun's barrel, keeping his finger on the trigger, and slowly pushed up the blankets.

Max got just a glimpse of a pistol being shoved towards him. It, along with MechWarrior reflexes, saved his life. The shot sounded like an artillery piece going off in his ear, but Max was already diving onto the bed beneath the shooter. The Jade Falcon got off a second shot at Moose and missed, blowing apart the coffee mug on the table. Max pointed the shotgun straight upwards and fired. There was a bloodcurdling scream of pain, then a body tumbled out onto the floor. Moose shot the Jade Falcon again—though Max, shaking, noticed that his shot had been a fatal one all the same. He also noticed that the person he had just shot was female.

Moose blew out his breath. "You okay?" he asked Max.

"Yeah. Just scared…just scared the piss out of me, that's all." Max was fervently glad his words weren't literal.

"Can't blame you." Moose smiled wanly, using the blanket to cover the body. There was blood splattered on the ceiling above the tier. "I'm supposed to be the groundpounder, and you're the MechWarrior…and you reacted quicker." Max shakily got to his feet and chambered another round in the shotgun. "First time you ever killed someone outside a 'Mech?" the infantryman asked quietly.

"No," Max replied.

Moose studied Max's face for a moment, then nodded. "All right. Room clear. Let's move."

The group rendezvoused in the corridor; the Clansman Max had shot was the only one present. They reached the door to the casemate and found it locked. Immediately, one of Moose's troops began applying plastic explosive to the lock, but then the door opened. The Clan artillerist immediately put her hands up when confronted with that many guns, and the gun crew behind her surrendered just as fast.

---

Andy's group moved down their corridor as well, clearing the rooms. Most were empty here as well. Tessya, Tooriu and a SLI trooper named Haruka ducked into the kitchen, and found it wasn't empty at all: there were four Jade Falcons there, techs by their coveralls. The two groups froze at the sight of the other for a moment, then with a screech, the Jade Falcons charged. The problem was, the Jade Falcons only had whatever weapons they had found in the kitchen, and the Snowbirds were armed.

The charge died almost as soon as it began. One of the techs, unarmed, realized he was charging a man with a shotgun and instantly dropped to the ground, hands over his head. Another had also picked Tooriu, but he had a fire axe. Tooriu simply raised the shotgun and blasted the tech back into the stove. The third tech, a woman with a rolling pin, went after Tessya, who reversed the Ryonex and drove the butt of the submachinegun into the tech's face. She went down, dropping the pin, clutching a broken nose.

The fourth had armed himself with a meat cleaver, and rushed Haruka before she could shoot him. She dodged, let the Ryonex drop, and snapped the naginata into place. Tooriu whirled around with the shotgun, but held his fire: there was too much chance he would hit Haruka as well. The tech made a clumsy slice towards Haruka's throat that was easily dodged: she then grabbed the naginata with both hands and rammed it into the Jade Falcon's stomach. The man screamed horribly, dropping the cleaver and trying to lift himself off the hooked blade. Haruka pulled it free, and as the man collapsed, stabbed him in the throat with a short, professional thrust. Sure her target was dead, Haruka pulled the naginata free again, wiped the blade off on the corpse, then replaced it on her back. She turned to the two MechWarriors. "Are you all right?" Tessya and Tooriu nodded, in shock: the fight had taken less than ten seconds. "Good. Stay here and guard these two." Haruka smiled, picked up her Ryonex, and left.

"Holy shit," was all Tooriu could say.

The second battery tried to resist. The door lock was blown off and two grenades tossed in. The resulting explosions convinced the surviving gun crew to surrender.

---

"Damn."

Sheila looked up from watching the radar screen, which was showing the Eridani DropShips grounding on their dropzone. She hadn't been much help to Matria, mainly because he easily found the helpfully, clearly-labeled autoloader controls. "What's wrong, Fred?"

"I've got one of the loaders shut off, but the other's still functioning. It's not accepting the command to cease loading. I think one of the grenades damaged the controls on this one."

"The batteries haven't fired since we came down here, so what's the problem?"

Matria looked up at her. "That is the problem, ma'am. The second battery's computer still reports that shells are loaded in the guns right now. If the autoloader's logic stacks are fried, then it won't know not to upload a new round…and it'll slam another shell into a loaded breech."

"That's bad, right?" Matria nodded. "Should we tell the SLI to pull back?"

"Nah, I think I know how to fix it." Matria reached down from where he was standing and pulled open a hatch in the floor. "That's the computer access tunnel—leads to the mainframe downstairs. I'll just shut the whole thing off from the workstation down there."

Lisa had left the unconscious Elemental and walked over to Matria and Sheila. "How do you know so much about this place?" she wanted to know, her voice full of suspicion.

"I used to work here."

"You were one of the fort personnel?" Sheila asked.

Matria grinned. "Kind of. I was the fort's IT guy." He clambered down the ladder about two stories below them. Lisa and Sheila watched him go down, then a light switched on in the mainframe room. "He'd better hope there's no one down there," Lisa said.

Neither woman noticed the Elemental's eyes open, or him get to his feet silently, for such a large man. He was not as hurt as he had pretended, and now he saw a perfect opportunity to kill the two women, seal the man below, and switch the loaders back on. Lisa noticed the movement and whirled around, only for the Elemental to catch her in the face with a ham-sized fist. Her jaw audibly cracked and a tooth spiraled past Sheila, and Lisa dropped unmoving to the floor.

Sheila stepped back, looking for a weapon, and saw that both their Ryonexes were on the console—the Elemental would reach either her or them before Sheila did. He noticed where she was looking, jumped across the open hatch, and tried to grab her. Sheila tried to kick him in the crotch, but the Elemental turned just in time, catching her boot on his thigh with a grunt. He swung at her, but Sheila was able to dodge and aimed a chop at his neck, remembering her training. He took the strike without much of a reaction; the Elemental's neck was thicker than her leg. He reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, bodily picked her up, then slammed her hard into one of the consoles.

Sheila gasped in pain, but her hands were still free. She rammed her right thumb into the Elemental's eye. He screamed in pain and instinctively pulled back, but before Sheila could wiggle free, he threw her to the floor. She was able to roll with that, but once more with surprising speed, he was on her, forcing her down, ending up on top in a grotesquely sexual position. He grabbed her by the throat and started squeezing. Sheila tried to break the hold, but the Elemental was simply too strong.

She gasped for air and he squeezed harder; Sheila knew she had only seconds before he crushed her trachea. She drew up her right leg and scrabbled for the knife, and pressed the button. The blade snapped into place, and with the last of her strength, Sheila rammed the knife into the Elemental's throat. Blood instantly sprayed her in the face as she sliced open an artery.

The Clansman did not scream. He actually looked surprised, as if he could not believe that someone he outweighed two to one could possibly kill him. Blood seeped out through his clenched teeth, and Sheila pressed the knife in further, feeling it grate on something hard, as the pressure lessened around her throat. His mouth opened, but not to scream; the Elemental seemed to be trying to say something through a throat filled with blood. She would never know if his last words were to curse her or forgive her. More blood dripped from his mouth onto her face, and finally, his eyes went glassy and he fell onto her.

Sheila let go of the knife—it remained embedded in the Elemental's neck—and tried to shove the dead weight off of her. It didn't budge, and Sheila found she was once more in danger of passing out: she couldn't breathe with the corpse on top of her. She tried to scream for help, but she didn't even have the air for that.

"Jesus!" Matria had come up the ladder at the noise of the fight. He grabbed the Elemental's shoulders and managed to roll the dead man off Sheila, who gasped and tried to gulp in air. He grabbed her and helped her sit up. "Sheila, are you hit? Are you bleeding?" Still unable to speak, she shook her head. Matria frantically looked around and saw emergency oxygen masks, hung on the wall in case the control room was ever filled with smoke. He grabbed one, switched on the little tank attached to it, and pressed the mask to Sheila's face. She nodded gratefully and sucked in oxygen. "Ch…check on…" Sheila tried to say through the mask, then just pointed at Lisa.

Matria was already moving towards her. He gently turned her over and checked her pulse, then her airway. "She's okay. Busted jaw and she's about to make a dentist happy, but she'll live."

Sheila gave him another nod and pulled the mask away from her mouth. "Good," she rasped out, then couldn't stop from throwing up all over the console.

---

Todd City

Planting, Jade Falcon Occupation Zone

28 September 3050

Todd City sounded more grand than it was: it was actually not much larger than a village. Still, it had a hotel, and like the people of Horatius, the locals had gratefully turned it over to the Snowbirds in return for being liberated. Max and Sheila had a room to themselves again.

Sheila stood naked in the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. Her throat was bruised, as was her back, but the medics had said there was no lasting damage; she would just be sore for a few days. Jackson had cleaned off the blood and vomit from her face with more gentleness than Sheila would have credited her for; the medics and the shower she had just taken did the rest.

Max walked into the bathroom, in his boxers. Her gear had been thrown away; his was stacked next to the door. "Hi, babe. How are you feeling?"

"Okay," she said woodenly. "Kind of numb."

"The battalion's squared away for the night. Elfa and Marion took care of it. The landings were successful. The Eridani linked up with us on the right and the Sentinels have a secure beachhead. Clans are pulling back from Tel Akbir."

Sheila gripped the sink and hung her head. "Dammit…I should've done that. Setting the battalion."

"You needed to get checked out by the medics."

"I'm the commander!"

"A commander who came within a second or two of being killed!" Max exclaimed. "Sheila, please. They understand," he said in a quieter voice. "Everyone does."

She closed her eyes, then sighed and nodded. Max was right. She dimly remembered being led down by Jackson—or was it Max, or Tooriu? Her uniform had still been covered in blood. No one had said anything, though she had seen the looks of shock on a few people. Still, the Snowbirds were all veterans—even Maysa, now—and they would understand. At least she hoped they would. She felt weak, physically and mentally. "I killed him," she finally said.

"Yes," Max nodded. "He would've killed you. He almost did. It was self-defense. Not a court in the Inner Sphere would convict you." He said it because he knew Sheila needed assurance. And what about you? Max asked himself. He remembered the split-second of the pistol barrel sliding out of the blanket, the body on the floor, torn nearly in half by his shotgun blast. Luckily, the Clanswoman had not suffered long, because Moose had shot her, but Max knew he would never forget that sight anymore than Sheila would forget the Elemental.

"I know. I've been telling myself that. But I still did it." Sheila splashed some water on her face, then sniffed a humorless laugh. "Y'know, it's funny. I've killed before, Max. I almost certainly killed that Mad Cat pilot on Twycross when I DFA'ed them. But it's different in a 'Mech…."

Max nodded. "I know. You want to believe you're not attacking another human being, just the 'Mech. Deep down we know that's bullshit, that there's a person in there, but we pretend. And then we thank God when we see the other MechWarrior punch out, because that means we can continue to play the mind game that we don't kill people."

"It's just so…different at close range." Sheila wiped her face—of the water, not tears. She had not cried. She expected to, just from the body's need for an emotional release. She hadn't, and Sheila wondered if that was a bad sign. "I watched…I watched him die, Max. Right in front of me. Felt that last breath. He was trying to say something. Was he trying to tell me to fuck off? Tell me he was sorry? Hell, he was Clan—maybe he was trying to congratulate me on my kill or something." She rubbed her eyes. "I mean, he was trying to kill me—he was breaking my neck…but still…it's just…" Sheila shrugged. "I don't understand."

There was silence in the room for a moment. "I killed someone today too," Max admitted. "Some Jade Falcon…a woman. Of course, if I'd been a second slower, she would've shot me in the face." He turned and walked back to the bed, and sat down. Sheila walked over and sat next to him, drawing her knees up to her chin. It wasn't to hide her nudity; Max seemed to have barely noticed it. One part of her wondered if they were at that stage of the relationship where casual nudity no longer had much of a sexual connotation; one was just used to being naked in front of the other. "Moose asked me if it was my first time killing someone. Of course it wasn't."

"You killed someone on Shensi when you were a kid." It was a statement, not a question. Sheila knew about the incident, but had never asked about the details.

"Yeah. Well, I was thirteen, anyway. Left the house because my folks were fighting, wandered into the wrong side of town, got jumped by some teenagers who didn't like some gweilo hanging around. I bloodied the first guy's nose pretty good and tried to run, but this other kid tackled me. I grabbed a rock and hit him in the head, but I either hit him a lot harder than I thought, or just hit him at the right angle. Put the kid into a coma, and he died a few days later." Max shook his head. "Some cops showed up and the others ran off, but that kid was dead…and I killed him.

"Since he was part of a gang, the cops didn't do much about it, and I think maybe they were afraid that my folks would flatten the place with their 'Mechs or something. I wasn't held responsible. They told me it was self-defense. Hell, it probably was." Max sighed. "I don't tell too many people about that, Sheila." He smiled wanly. "But here's the weird part—I actually told Kai Allard about it at NAMA. Don't know how it came up in conversation, but it did. He told me that, when he was a kid, he got into one of those my-dad-can-beat-up-your-dad arguments, and I guess Kai told this other kid that his dad could kill the other kid's dad. The other kid started crying. Kai's dad Justin told him never to say that, because killing a man isn't easy—nor should it be."

"Good advice," Sheila commented.

"I don't know where I was going with that," Max admitted. "Trying to make us both feel better, I guess." Another sigh. "Hell…it's war, Sheila. We didn't start the damn thing. And we damn sure are going to have to kill more Clanners before it's over, or they'll most assuredly kill us."

"I know." She kissed him. "Thank you." Then she got up, pulled back the covers, and gingerly got under them. Max nodded, took off his boxers, and got into bed next to her, switching off the light. They held each other against the night and the memories, and eventually they slept.

---

Sheila woke up to sunlight streaming across the room. She checked the chronometer on the wall. It was 0700. She was not a morning person, but she was the commander of the Snowbirds, so she needed to get up and at least check in with her battalion. Given that no one had called her and there hadn't been any explosions, Sheila assumed that the Snowbirds were fine—for now, anyway. She stretched, then winced at the pain in her back. At least she had gotten eight hours of sleep, which was more than usual. She glanced at Max, who still lay asleep, turned away from her on his pillow.

Suddenly, the Elemental's dying face popped back into her memory, as clear as if he was in bed with them. Sheila closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and put the dead man into a locked box in her mind, with the other memories she didn't want to remember. She knew they would break out eventually, to haunt her, to rob her of sleep, for the rest of her life.

Sheila sat back against the bed's headboard. She wondered if, had the situation been reversed, if the Elemental would have thought of her. Do they even think the same way we do? They're human. They bleed. They scream. They feel pain, they get scared. But would he just write it off as something that happens in war, would he be happy about it—maybe their culture rewards kills—or would he feel bad about it? She rested her head against the wall. Who the hell are they, anyway? What the hell are they even doing here? Why did that Clanner come all the way from…wherever the hell they're from…just to take Planting and then die here, to be rolled into a mass grave and forgotten? It's not fair, dammit! Bad enough I had to kill him, but not knowing why makes it worse!

Sheila commanded herself to stop thinking about it, and got out of bed. She needed to throw some water on her face, get dressed, and get back in the war. Then she noticed the envelope that had been slid under the door of the hotel room. She chuckled. Probably the bill. Sheila padded over to it and picked it up. It wasn't from the hotel. She opened it, and pulled out two pieces of paper, with writing in a small, precise hand.

Commander Arla-Vlata—

First, I'm passing on a message from Major Brownoak. She says not to worry about checking in before 0900—sleep in. Things are quiet right now.

As for myself, my respect for you has risen considerably. My people have told me your MechWarriors fought well dismounted at Fort Pilum yesterday—including you. One of the prisoners said that the man you killed was one of their battlearmor troops, an Elemental. They told me his name, but I do not want to tell you that unless you ask me personally. Take my advice. You don't want to know. All the same, killing an enemy is not to be taken lightly.

You have probably never been in close quarters combat before, and I have no words for what you are feeling right now. I know. I have been where you are. My father once said that if I ever stopped being affected by the people I kill, I should quit, because then I have become a murderer, not a killer. If it helps, know that the Elemental likely would have also finished off Lisa and then probably MechWarrior Matria, before doing who knows what else to the rest of us. Small comfort, perhaps, but know that his death meant that three people now get to live.

I doubt that will make you feel better. This is what makes war so horrible, and why we groundpounders tend to look down on you MechWarriors, because your job tends to be a little more antiseptic than ours, if that's the word. We see it in all its horrible, terrible forms. This may sound strange coming from an SLI trooper, but I wish we would stop having wars. I've seen too many people screaming for their mothers with their guts blown out, or kids wondering where Dad or Mom are. Nonetheless, I know we have to fight and kill, to prevent a greater fight and killing.

We infantry people tend to get carried away, so I will stop here. Know that you have the respect of the SLI and my troop in particular. That's not an honor we give lightly. I would be proud to serve with the Snowbirds again, anytime, anywhere.

Sincerely,

Captain Mikkansia Jackson

Commanding, 2/1 Sentinels Light Infantry

Sheila read the letter twice, then set it down on the nightstand. She crossed the room and opened the curtains, then the windows, letting the cool breeze and sun caress her naked body. The ocean crashed on the beach below.

"Hey, beautiful," Max sleepily called out. "I love the view, but I'm a selfish bastard, and I don't want to share it. Someone's going to see you."

"There's no one down there." Sheila stepped away from the window all the same. She got onto the bed. She would show Max the letter later; right now, she needed to feel alive. "Max, we don't have to be at the CP until 0900."

He reached up and cupped a breast. "What do you want to do until then?"