Felsner cleared his throat, interrupting his leader. "Is there anything else we need to think through before beginning to get things on the move, Your Highness?"
Hanse looked about at the others. His expression was inscrutable, but Ardan sensed that he was sad deep within and less confident than he seemed.
"There will be a messenger in from the staging world tonight. Tomorrow, we will hear his report. At that time, we will decide any other matters that may come up. But for now, I mink it's time to put things in motion."
He turned to Ardan. "Tomorrow we will also get the latest word on the size of the force occupying the Folly. So far, our estimates are that Liao has stationed at least three to five regiments to hold Stein's Folly and Redfield. He has other problems elsewhere, however, and has withdrawn some of the original assault force to cope with those. We're watching closely, though, and by tomorrow should know as much as we can about what we're up against."
Felsner, Hamman, and Ardan saluted and turned to go, but Hanse caught Ardan's elbow as he passed. "Wait a moment, Dan. I'd like a word with you."
Ardan stopped obediently, though feeling a surge of resentment. It had already been too difficult A repetition of that last scene with his old friend would be simply too much.
Hanse, however, was staring absently into the holo-table. "I hate to see you go," he said, "but you are a MechWarrior, and it's fitting. What I hate worse is to see you leave in bitterness and anger." He lifted his head to look into Ardan's eyes. "You can't live with the thought of those agents provocateurs, can you?
"No." The answer was too blunt but Ardan saw no way to soften it "No, I cannot War is terrible enough when it's necessary. When we are nominally at peace with a power, it seems wicked to stir up trouble for that House."
"Then think about this," murmured Hanse. "If House Marik were not embroiled among their own worlds— admittedly in problems of my making—they might well be at our flank, while we try to retake our own worlds. I know you too well to believe that this will change your attitude, but do consider it from time to time....When you havethe time." He sighed and gestured, dismissing the younger man.
Ardan had indeed considered those very points, and certainly didn't need them pushed into his face. But he had been brought up with a code of honor that seemed to be far more demanding than even that of the illustrious House of Davion. Perhaps it was because his own family, while noble, had never been one of great power. Honor, rather than power or glory, had become the watchword of his ancestors.
Ardan felt a sudden restlessness, knowing that he must now dismiss his Techs. Normally, both Lai, his main Tech, and Nym, his standby, would go with him. But they had families on New Avalon, and Ardan was unwilling to whisk the two away to a war in which they had little personal stake. No, he would find new Techs on Dragon's Field. There would be many 'orphaned' men there, Techs whose 'Mechs and MechWarriors had been destroyed in the desperate battle for Stein's Folly.
The scanners passed him into the workshop/storage area beneath his barracks. The familiar clang of metal on metal and the odor of welding and heat-processed sealants immediately assaulted his senses. There was never a quiet moment in the workshops where the active 'Mechs were repaired and maintained, and the damaged or worn ones reassembled into usable combinations.
The stall where his own Victorwas stored came into view. Nym was polishing a weld, while Lai applied a coat of rust-preventive paint to the sole of one of the machine's immense feet The sun-and-sword emblem of House Davion had just been redone, and the paint gleamed bright and fresh.
"Greetings," Ardan called over the din being made by a nearby metal worker.
Nym looked up and smiled. He and Lai would have gone on working, but Ardan signalled them to join him outside the work area.
"Anything wrong, Colonel?" asked the Tech, looking worried. He was the kind of man who prided himself on his work, constantly anxious that something might be less than perfect
"Not with you or Lai," said Ardan. "I couldn't ask for a better pair of Techs. But I'm going offworld, and I refuse to take either of you away from your families. And especially because I know that your mother is sick, Lai. And Nym's young one is due to arrive at any time. Sella would come after me with a neural whip if I took you away now."
Nym looked upset "It is my duty. My honor. I must go where my work takes me. Sella knows that"
"Well, this time your work will be with Candent Septarian. I asked her yesterday, and she needs you both. Her Tech and his standby both were injured when her WarHammerfell from its braces while the control bundles in its knee joints were being repaired. By the time they're functional again, I may even be back here."
Ardan took a deep breath. "You need to ready the 'Mech for transport Check everything, of course. And I need a last exercise. Is the Gauntlet set up and ready to run?"
Nym nodded. "Will it be the Victor,as usual?"
"What else?" said Ardan. I've never understood why Sep likes that bunglesome WarHammerso well. Me, I'll take maneuverability."
"Probably because the WarHammercan simply step on anything it can't blast out of the way," mumbled Lai.
Ardan left, laughing. That was true. At seventy tons, the WarHammercould mangle a forest or a city without realizing it had stepped on anything. His Victor,on the other hand, was ten tons heavier, but could still rise up on its maneuvering jets. Ardan felt that his ‘Mech's ability to move was a priceless asset on the field.
The Gauntlet was an exercise ground laid out in a large meadow beyond the lake and the forest. Set between high parallel walls of stone and metal, it extended just short of a kilometer in length and resembled a natural canyon, with every sort of straightaway, angle, curve, and bend.
Every centimeter of those forty-five-meter high walls was embedded with special effects that could simulate rocket launchers, lasers, autocannon, and any other nasty surprise a 'Mech might encounter in combat. When a Mech Warrior wanted to work out there, a Tech was assigned to arm and control those weapons effects. They could only be disarmed by that Tech or by a direct hit on a sensitive plate of a slightly different color than the surrounding stone of the walls.
In a big building adjoining the Gauntlet rested the prototype 'Mechs. These were uncoded machines that could be programmed to behave like any known 'Mech that a pilot might want to operate in practice. Today, it would be a Victorfor Ardan, its computer-controlled reactions simulating every effect of weapons hits, heat buildup, damage, and so on.
In the dressing chamber, Ardan stripped off his uniform and donned the cooling vest and neck and shoulder pads. To his arms and legs, he attached the biofeedback patches that provided temperature control and monitored heat in his sensor helmet. Finally, he fitted the neurohelmet over his head, setting it in place over his neck and shoulder pads. The helmet was the key to piloting a 'Mech, feeding information on the pilot's sense of balance into the 'Mech's computer to keep it erect and balanced even during jumping, kicking, or dive-and-roll combat In return, the computer fed impulses back to the pilot through his helmet to keep him from being disoriented while locked up inside the head of a giant maneuvering machine.