So, even the prodigals return.Dan met Bradley's firm grip with one of his own, pumping the man's arm strongly. "How have you been, Scott?" Dan's gaze brushed over the rank insignia on Bradley's dark green uniform. "You're a Major now . . ."
Bradley nodded somewhat sheepishly. "Yeah, I've got my own battalion." The man looked at Morgan, and Dan could read the anguish on Bradley's face. "I waited, Morgan, just as you asked me to. I gathered a whole group of Mech Warriors around me—really good people." Bradley winced. "They kept after me to leave McGee's Cutthroats and to form our own mercenary group. After so many years of waiting, Morgan, I didn't know what to think."
Morgan smiled and rested both hands on Bradley's shoulders. "Scott, you did what you had to do. You accepted responsibility for a vast number of people and that's something to be proud of."
Bradley nodded. "I amproud of the battalion."
Morgan gave the other man's shoulders a shake before releasing him. "And I'm proud of you for taking the action you did. You've proved yourself to be even more of a natural leader than before. To have a group of mercenaries urge you to form your own unit indicates a special level of trust in your abilities that few leaders ever inspire in their people."
Relief flooded Bradley's face and body. The nervous quivering of his lip had ceased and new confidence seeped into his voice. "I've got a one-year contract with the Federated Suns. We've pulled garrison duty on Northwind, to begin right after the wedding, while some of the regular troops are involved in Galahad '28. After that, I was hoping that you might take Bradley's Bravos on as a battalion in the Kell Hounds . . ."
"The Kell Hounds would be pleased to have you, Scott." Glancing at Dan with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he added, "In fact, if you wish, you may designate Bradley's Bravos the Kell Hound Third 'Mech Battalion. We'll formalize things when your contract is up with the Federated Suns."
Bradley stepped back, saluted, then enfolded Morgan's right hand in his own fist. "I took a straw poll among the battalion's MechWarriors and they favored joining up with the Hounds. With your permission, I'll toss the Kell Hound crest on our standard and add it to our 'Mechs."
"Done, Major Bradley." Morgan shook Scott's hand firmly. "You were sorely missed."
Before anything further could pass between the two men, a wave of applause began near the doorway, then proceeded to grow as the rest of the crowd joined in. The three MechWarriors added their own applause to the swelling sound as Melissa Arthur Steiner, radiant in a sleeveless, shimmering golden gown that matched her hair, entered the room flanked by Katrina Steiner and Hanse Davion. The Archon-Designate gracefully bowed her head in acknowledgement of the ovation, then allowed her fiance to lead her down the stairs. Behind them, the Archon followed proudly.
Dan felt Morgan's hand on his shoulder. "Shall we head over to the receiving line?"
Dan shook his head. "No, Colonel, you and Scott go ahead." He glanced at other people passing through the doorway. "My parents have just arrived and I should speak with them. Besides," Dan said as he saw the Baroness de Gambier waiting to ambush him where the line was forming, "I hate standing in line."
While picking his way through the crowd toward his parents, Dan was amused to note several gatherings of retired MechWarriors holding court as well as more than one clutch of matchmaking dowager noblewomen. Though half-tempted to join a Kurita officer's discussion about the superiority of regular troops over mercenaries, Dan continued on through clouds of noxious cigar smoke and competing perfumes until he reached the elder Allards.
Quintus Allard took his son's hand, then drew him into a firm, back-slapping hug. "Dammit, Dan, you look good."
Dan laughed. "So do you, father." Stepping back, he appraised his father's double-breasted gray suit with approval. "New suit?"
Quintus nodded, smiling broadly. "Got it for the wedding."
"Looks very good, very chic. Mother must have picked it out for you," Dan said teasingly, as he turned to gather up his mother in a hug. "Good to see you, mother." He released her with a smile and found just as much to admire in his mother's appearance. Though fifty years old, her trim figure and bright green eyes be lied her age, as did her thick, straw-blond hair. The green, sleeveless gown she wore was anything but matronly, but the matching short jacket added just the right touch of respectability.
Tamara Kearny Allard smoothed out the black wolf’s-head design on Dan's jacket, letting her fingers linger on the Dragon-slayers ribbon at his left shoulder. Then she snatched back her hand and covered her mouth. "I'm sorry, Dan, your shoulder..."
The MechWarrior shook his head. "No blood, no report." He winked at his mother, summoning the smile back to her face. "I'm fine, mother. Really. It healed ages ago." He had turned now to his sister. "Hello, Riva. How's my baby sister?"
Riva wrinkled her pert nose and hugged her brother. "You're baby sister just got accepted into the NAIS Ph.D. program."
Dan laughed and hugged her even tighter. "That's great, Rat."
Riva pulled back and thrust a finger at Dan. "You promised never to call me that again, Daniel." The anger flashing in her cerulean eyes glinted like the lights off her blue silk gown. Dan stepped back slightly and forced himself to see the woman his sister had become. Though she still wore her black hair in a short gamin cut and her eyes had never lost their combative fire, her tomboy days were surely gone forever.
He bowed his head with great dignity. "I apologize, Riva." Her face brightened again, and the two smiled at one another with much affection. "So, what will you study for your doctorate?"
Riva hesitated, flicking a worried glance at her father, then looked down. "Neural-cybernetic interfaces with an emphasis on cybernetically aided regeneration."
Dan forced a smile. For Justin. Right, Riva?He nodded and tried to put more life into his smile. "I'm sure such work will help many people."
Quintus looked at his son. "We were pleased to get the communication from the Macthat you were aboard and would be attending the wedding, but the Prince thought Colonel Kell would have Major Ward with him."
Dan nodded. "Salome caught a virus a couple of days before we left, and used it as an excuse to stay on Arc-Royal. I had the feeling she didn't want to attend the wedding because she's working hard to get the First 'Mech battalion into shape. She and Conn O'Bannon have a fierce competition going between them. It won't really matter which battalion—First or Second—is best because they'll both be hell on wheels."
Scattered applause turned Dan once more toward the door. It was for Duke Michael Hasek-Davion and his wife Marie, a most unlikely looking pair. Michael stood straight and slender, yet so full of energy that he seemed taller and his deep green eyes even more penetrating. A silver circlet held his long black hair away from his face, and he looked impressive in his decoration-festooned dress uniform.
Beside her husband was Marie, whose petiteness added to the illusion of Michael's height. Her gown was a shade darker than the one worn by Countess Allard, and she wore her blond hair swept back from the left side of her face with a malachite and silver clasp. She looked lovingly at the Duke, then let him guide her down the stairs into the antechamber.
Dan turned back toward his parents just in time to see the hooded expression on his father's face. What is it, I wonder? I know there is no love lost between Duke Michael and my father, but my father has never been one to bear a grudge.The MechWarrior smiled. "Michael and his wife look as though they survived their trip insystem well. The Mac's Captain said they came in at 1.75 Gs. Must have taken its toll on the Duchess."