The Khan looked at the leader of the Thirty-first Wolf Solahma and slowly exhaled. "At the heart you and I are not the same. We arewarriors, but you live for battle.
You are an irresistible force that devours all before it. I am an immovable object that wants what you do to stop for all time."
Conal's eyes narrowed. "You know that by framing matters in those terms, we cannot coexist."
"Not so. We can, but you will have to change." Phelan's head came up. "Ultimately, though, Star Colonel,I do not care what you do as long as you follow my orders."
Conal's face screwed up with anger, but before he could snap out a retort, there was a gentle knocking on the office door, then the Grand Duke's executive assistant opened it partway and poked his head through. "Forgive me for interrupting, sir, but the commander from the Home Defense Force is here."
Phelan nodded. "Send him in. Star Colonel Ward was just leaving." He looked at the Clansman. "You have your orders, Star Colonel, follow them."
Conal bowed his head deferentially. "My Khan's will be done."
As Phelan watched him go, he knew that despite Conal's polite remark they were still on a collision course. If it can only wait until after the Red Corsair is dead!
* * *
Christian Kell poured steaming coffee from the thermos into a mug and handed it to Ragnar. The Clan warrior tipped his yellow hardhat back on his head and nodded in thanks. Chris blew on the cup he had poured for himself, then took a sip. "Not too bad."
Ragnar yawned. "Deuterium to a fusion engine. I have been up for six hours, which is four more than the sun. Still, I am not complaining. Work is going well."
Chris nodded as he looked out at the vast city being constructed on a flat plain forty kilometers south of the Kell Hound base at Old Connaught. In the center of it was the small town of Denton and the McKiernan Power Company. When Denton had been created five years earlier as a planned community, the area had been graded, and roads, sewer, water, and power installed. All was going well until the Clan invasion made investors become conservative with their capital; the project collapsed and languished in the oblivion of bankruptcy.
Phelan, acting for his father, had nationalized it and paid off the creditors. In less than two weeks the community came alive again as legions of carpenters, masons, electricians, and landscapers descended on the place. Where tract homes could not be constructed fast enough, mobile homes were hovered or coptered in. The construction activity took on an almost carnival atmosphere and the public responded to it with heartfelt enthusiasm.
The greatest response came from the exiled Rasalhagians. Ragnar had told Chris that they felt it was their way of repaying the debt to the world that had adopted them. By joining the defensive effort, the exiles began their final integration into Arc-Royal society.
Chris smiled as he watched two construction 'Mechs lift up one prefab chunk of a building. "You know, it's a pity we won't actually be able to occupy this base." He winked at Ragnar and pointed toward one brand-new house set on a slight rise. "I was thinking I would like that house there. The view is nice and it's not too far from the 'Mech bays."
Ragnar returned the smile. "I will see that it is wired last. If we run out of time . . ."He shrugged.
The mercenary nodded. "I don't think land values will be that high after we're done, my friend."
The former Prince of Rasalhague nodded and smiled again. "True enough, but your view will be unobstructed and the neighborhood will be very quiet."
* * *
"Construction continues on the new Kell Hound base at Denton," said the radio announcer's tinny voice. "Flushed with their stunning victory over the Red Corsair at Zanderij, and confident that the Red Corsair has gone off to lick her wounds, the mercenary regiment has launched into an ambitious building program that is scheduled to be finished before Grand Duke Morgan Kell leaves his sickbed on Tharkad and returns home."
The security officer with Nelson Geist turned the radio off and stopped the hovercar. The gull-wing doors opened at the touch of a button. Nelson swung out of the vehicle and scratched at the area behind his right ear, which was tight and dry around the site of the incision made a week earlier.
The security man shook his head. "Leave it alone and it will stop itching."
Nelson gave the man a surprised look. "Ah, you are a doctor now, too, I take it, Bates?"
Bob Bates laughed lightly. "Not hardly, but I remember when I had my locator implanted."
"But you could turn yours off when you went off-duty." Nelson frowned. The Kell Hounds had been most civilized concerning his incarceration. Having implanted a locator chip in his mastoid bone, they could determine where he was at any time. Though they preferred him to remain on their base, he was allowed to make accompanied trips off-base and into Old Connaught. Still, the constant itch behind his ear reminded Nelson that he was not trustworthy in their eyes.
Bates held his left wrist up near his mouth and activated his wrist recorder. "Friday, six June 3055. Subject: Nelson Geist. In accordance with a request filed two days ago and approved by Major Kell, I have taken the subject to the Finian Library of Astrophysics at Old Connaught University." Bates mounted the steps to the library and opened the door for Nelson. "Don't know what you expect to find in here, Kommandant, but I don't mind the change of scenery."
Nelson smiled. "When I find it, Mr. Bates, I'll let you know." I'll let everyone know because it will mean the beginning of my revenge and an end to the Red Corsair.
* * *
Phelan hit the answer button on the visiphone. "I am here, Colonel."
Dan Allard nodded and gave Phelan a brief, welcoming smile. "They're on schedule. You said they would be here between the tenth and the fifteenth. They just arrived in-system and should touch ground tomorrow."
The Clan Khan nodded. "The eleventh. Is the Hound Pound ready?"
"I gave the word and it's being evacuated now." Dan frowned. "There is one thing we didn't expect, though."
Phelan raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"The Corsair has twoOverlord Class DropShips coming in."
"Two!" The Clansman shook his head. "That is not possible. We destroyed the Lionessat Zanderij."
"Tell that to the Red Corsair." Dan's expression darkened. "It gets worse. Remember how we had a positive identification of the JumpShip Fire Roseas being CongressClass?"
"Yes. It used large lasers to keep our fighters at bay while it recovered the Tigress. "
"Right, well, that ship out there now is Black LionClass. It's still called the Fire Roseand has the same identification module, but it's definitely a Black Lion. "
But Black Lions have no energy weapons, so it couldn't be the same ship as before. "Lionscarry fighters."
Dan nodded. "My thoughts exactly."
Phelan sat back in the chair from which his greatgrandfather and grandfather and father had ruled Arc-Royal. The ability of the Red Corsair to re-arm herself so quickly and so expensively confirmed what he already knew: she was no ordinary bandit. She was working for someone else, and the easy answer to who that was happened to be the answer he didn't even want to consider.