Will counted to himself, along with the Sergeant. This was no great thing; he’d walked farther than this every day of his life. It was only the keeping in step that was different. The building ahead grew nearer, and Will could see now that they were heading toward it. Its wide double doors stood open, and yellow light poured out from the interior.
“Company!” Murray shouted. “Ready, halt! One, two.”
They were facing directly into the open doors.
“I will call you off by files,” Master Sergeant Murray said. “When I do so, you will follow the red lines painted on the floor. You will come to a number of stations. You will be given instructions. Follow them. You have no cause to talk to anyone. Now. Company. At ease!”
He paused for a moment. “‘At ease’ is yet another order. It means ‘you may move your right foot, though your left will remain in one place as if glued there. You will clasp your hands in the small of your back. You may look around, but you may not talk.’ Try it again. Company! At ease!”
Will clasped his hands in the small of his back, as instructed, and waited for the command that would send him into the open building and the next phase of his strange new life.
PART TWO
Power Play
Tigress, Summer 3133
12
DropShip Landing Field
The Four Cities, Tigress
Prefecture IV, Republic of the Sphere
April, 3133; local summer
On Tigress, the day was clear and dazzlingly bright. The air above the landing field rippled with midsummer heat. Then ground and air alike trembled with a heavy, growling vibration as an object came into view in the sky above the field: first a dot, then a disk, then a huge and steadily descending shape, as the first of the DropShips landed with a roar and rumble. The Steel Wolves were coming home to the Four Cities.
The fighting had been good on Achernar, at least for those of the Wolves who had won honor and promotion. Not everybody was happy among those returning. Some of the Warriors looked beyond the fighting to the longer strategy, and saw Achernar still master of its own fate, loyal to The Republic of the Sphere and controlled neither by the Steel Wolves nor by Lord Aaron Sandoval and his puppet Erik Sandoval-Groell. The defenders of Achernar could boast that they had taken on Kal Radick’s Steel Wolves and sent them home bleeding, and that was no little thing in times like these.
Star Colonel Anastasia Kerensky saw the longer strategy as well as anybody else. Nevertheless, she had a bit of a swagger in her step as she left the DropShip Lupus, with her leather jacket slung over her shoulder and the sun picking up the red highlights in her thick black hair.
The patches and blazons on the jacket told an interesting story. Its wearer, they said, had indeed fought in the campaign just past, but her fellow Warriors had not been Clan. Anastasia grinned, remembering. She’d had fun on Achernar, fighting next to the locals and testing herself against Kal Radick’s Steel Wolves. Finding a comrade-in-arms—and a pleasing if temporary lover—in her fellow MechWarrior Raul Ortega. Being Tassa Kay.
The grin faded a little. Raul Ortega had gone back to his local woman in the end, and Tassa Kay was—not dead, exactly, but put away until the next time Anastasia wanted to shed for a little while the ambitions and expectations that went with being the bearer of a famous Bloodname. And there was no Bloodname more famed among the Clans than Kerensky.
Aleksandr and Nicholas Kerensky had pulled the ancestors of the Clans away from the wreckage of the original Star League and made them into what they now were. Natasha Kerensky, the Black Widow, had won fame and notoriety throughout the Inner Sphere as one of the group of mercenaries—and covert intelligence gatherers—called the Wolf’s Dragoons. Anastasia, for her part, intended to take the Kerensky Bloodname still further before she was done.
For now, she needed to get herself established here on Tigress. The port workers could handle the offloading and berthing of her Ryoken II BattleMech without her direct supervision, and could begin the job of cleaning it up and repairing the damage it had taken during the campaign on Achernar. She would check up on their progress frequently, of course, because the Ryoken II was hers—her weapon and protection in battle, a metal-and-myomer extension of her physical self—and its continuing good condition was as important to her as her own. But Tigress was a Clan world now, and its port laborers and repair techs would know the difference between a real fighting machine and a retrofitted piece of industrial gear. Meanwhile, Anastasia had other work to do.
Her first stop was the Portmaster’s office. The Portmaster, like the laborers who worked under him, was a Steel Wolf from one of the labor castes—in his case, from among those charged with administration and record keeping. His placid expression changed when she entered his office; she could see that he already knew who she was. Absolutely nothing travels faster than gossip, and Anastasia was well aware that the news had spread from the DropShip faster than its passengers could disperse: A Kerensky is among us.
“Star Colonel?” he asked.
His voice was deferential. His manner was not cringing or subservient—he was a Wolf, even if he was not a Warrior, and no Wolf was ever subservient—but he nevertheless accorded her the deference befitting her rank and name. She had missed that automatic deference while she was fighting among the natives on Achernar, even while Tassa Kay was enjoying the easy camaraderie that had filled its place.
She gave the man a brief nod of acknowledgment. “Portmaster,” she said. “Is there anything happening at the moment here on Tigress that a new arrival ought to know?”
“Your arrival with the DropShips from Achernar is the only matter of current interest,” the Portmaster said. “We have already arranged a local berthing facility for your Ryoken II, and a repair crew has been assigned.”
A reputation, Anastasia reflected, was a handy thing to have, even if so far hers was mostly genetic and not of her own making.
“Excellent,” she said.
“And for yourself, Star Colonel—do you wish your personal effects taken to Headquarters?”
Anastasia had done her research before embarking on this adventure. The newly constructed Headquarters building housed the senior Steel Wolf officers present on Tigress—at least, it would do so once the Wolves finished settling in—and her rank of Star Colonel entitled her to a substantial set of rooms.
“No,” she said. “I plan to look for accommodation on the local economy.”
A person could obtain a great deal more privacy by securing private housing, and could also escape the strain of having to endure the company of potential rivals on a round-the-clock basis. Living alone would also make it easier, if she ever wanted, to bring Tassa Kay out of hiding for a few hours of irresponsible fun.
“As the Star Colonel wishes,” said the Portmaster. “The Four Cities area has a wide range of possibilities available for officers who want to look for separate quarters, and Headquarters keeps a list of recommended housing providers on file.”
“Excellent. I would prefer not to waste good time looking at bad rooms.” She gave him her best charismatic smile. It had worked for Tassa Kay on Achernar, and it would work again on Tigress for Anastasia Kerensky. Start with the support staff and go on from there, gaining their goodwill and admiration, or at least their respect. “Out in the field is one thing—all of us have seen worse than cold water and thin walls and the local vermin—but just because something can be endured on campaign is no reason anyone should consent to live with it afterwards.”