What of all the dead? Grayson thought. Larressen, Enzelman, Claydon, Ari, Kai Griffith, his father... and so many more...
"Full privileges," Grayson said at last "And the sooner you burn for your starship, the better."
EPILOGUE
"Ten... SHUT!"
Ranks of grey-clad men snapped to attention in the sullen light of the westering sun. Master Sergeant Ramage did a sharp about-face and saluted Grayson. "COMP'ny all present and accounted for, SIR!"
Grayson let his eyes run along the rows of men, each armed, each with his duffel bag of equipment, uniforms, and personal gear at his feet. Beyond the last rank, the 'Mechs were lined up as well, towering above the assembly. The two Waspsand the Stingerhad been salvaged on the field and repaired. The Locustand the Shadow Hawkhad been completely refitted. All were newly painted, too, with emblems of a death's head in gray and black against a red background on each 'Mech's left leg. Grayson's eyes strayed to the Locust,as though trying to see past armor and sensors to the woman inside.
"Very well, Sergeant. I will inspect the troops."
"Sir!" Ramage did another smart turn, and faced the ranks. "COMP'ny, in-spec-tion... HARMS!"
The man sounds more like a Master Sergeant every day, Grayson thought. For that matter, the troops were looking more like troops. Ramage at his heels, he began walking along the line, checking men, uniforms, and weapons... for what? Grayson shrugged off the rebellious thought For military appearance and readiness, of course. For reassurance that the three platoons were tight and sharp and ready to board the DropShip at his back. And to remind them of who they were.
When the remnants of the Trellwan Lancers had emerged from Thunder Rift to meet Grayson, there had been a scant 30 men unwounded and ready (after several straight periods of sleep) for duty. The Locust,the single surviving ‘Mech, had been badly damaged, with a machine gun out, ammo storage wrecked, heat sinks gone, and large sections of the hull armor half melted away. There had been little to commend them as a victorious fighting unit
Except for the fact that they had won.
Trellwan's Royal Guards had been somewhat taken aback by Sarghad's response to the warriors. News of the Battle of Thunder Rift was more rumor than fact, twisted and changing even as it spread. The only clearly discernible facts were that Ricol had led his army up to the Rift and been thrown back. A lone raider at the starport had destroyed the Combine force's communications station and much of their fuel. Two days later, the Combine DropShips had left, taking every 'Mech and offworld warrior with them. And then a DropShip from an incoming freighter had descended at the port, and the victors had returned to the city.
Their reception by Sarghad's citizens had been a minor revolution in its own right. With the government in total disarray after the deaths of Stannic and Adel, there'd been no one to issue an order for Carlyle's arrest. It was doubtful that there were troops on Trellwan who would have carried such an order out, for the Green Coats were citizens of Sarghad as well, and totally caught up in the carnival atmosphere that surrounded the heroes' homecoming.
As for Grayson, he had not feared the government's response. Though he had had only two functional 'Mechs, the Locustand his battered Hawk,that was more than Sarghad could muster in its own defense.
"COMP'ny, sling HARMS! Right FACE! FOR'ard HARCH!"
Many of Sarghad's troops — Militia and Guards alike — had joined the Lancers after Thunder Rift. The unit's survivors had become the experienced cadre that trained and seasoned the new troops. Grayson had already drawn up schedules so that training would continue aboard the Invidious.There were many men, it turned out, with no attachments, no reason to remain on Trellwan. When Grayson issued the call for volunteers for the new 'Mech regiment, they had come forward, this time leaving behind their earlier rivalries. The Lancers' new reputation had achieved that
Grayson turned to face Trellwan's new leader. General Varney had taken charge of the military upon his return to the city from the DropShip. Marshalling the popular support of the now reinstated Militia and many of the Royal Guard as well, the Defense Ministers and Military Staff officers had elected Varney as military governor until a new king could be nominated.
It was entirely possible that office would also fall on Varney's shoulders. Of all Trellwan's leaders, only he had the power and authority to hold the military's openly warring factions together. The Lancers' new reputation had also achieved that
"We wish you wouldn't go. There is a place for the Lancers here." Varney said.
"They're not the Trellwan Lancers any longer, General. Remember?"
"But you could stay! Look, Grayson, don't hold what happened against all of Trellwan! Please, reconsider! Hendrik still hangs over us, not to mention the Combine. But with your unit, we could..."
Grayson looked past Varney to where Mara watched him from the cluster of ministers and officials. The forces that had torn Trellwan's society apart were still there, for all the deaths and bloodshed.
Grayson wondered now how could he have been such a fool in regard to Mara. He thought he'd been using her, unaware that she was using him to win useful information and to control him for the sake of her father's plans to become King.
His eyes snapped back to Varney. "Precisely, sir. They are my units now, and I will not have the Lancers be the focus of any more power struggles. We have our own destiny." He gave the General his hand, which the old man clasped firmly. Varney would be a good leader. Trellwan might yet have a chance to combat that inner sickness of power and strife.
"The Commonwealth will be informed of the situation here," Grayson said. "I doubt that the Kuritists will bother you anymore, but the Gray Death Legion will seek employment elsewhere."
He took an odd pleasure in that name suggested by Sergeant Ramage and made official by acclamation among the troops. As a newly formed mercenary regiment, they were small, yet — with only five 'Mechs and 147 troops — but they had a ship and a pilot and the hope of a place among the embattled Houses of the Inner Sphere. Perhaps at Tharkad they would find whatever was left of Carlyle's Commandos. The regiment could be built to full strength elsewhere. And Grayson knew he would meet Ricol and Vallendel again one day.
A man fights for his comrades on the firing line, Griffith had said. But home and family are what brings him to the firing line in the first place. Looking across at the troops boarding the DropShip, Grayson felt a thrill of pride, of accomplishment. And of belonging.
He wanted to leave Trellwan as quickly as possible now. He needed time to assimilate what had happened here and to examine the changes in himself. He saluted Varney with a smile. "By your leave, General."
The line of 'Mechs waited until the last of the troops filed past and up the ramp of the waiting DropShip. Grayson strode toward the Shadow Hawkat the end of the line and swung himself up on the chain ladder that hung down the machine's flank. Inside the Hawk'scockpit, with the neural impulse helmet on his head, an electronic voice sounded in his ears.
"We're ready, Boss. Let's get the hell out of here!"
"Right, Lori. Lance formation... right turn... and embark." At this moment, Grayson felt content. Lori was important to him, both as a valued NCO and as a valued friend. He'd promised her the time to seek her own healing, while he sought his. Meanwhile, they were still friends. In time, the wounds would heal, perhaps even before they reached Tharkad.