Edelstein's suit went rigid. "The looters ambushed us, sir. I warned Colonel Wolf that we shouldn't advance too quickly through this stretch, but he insisted. I asked to lead, figuring the battle armor would provide cover for the troops behind us. The looters figured it out, too. They let us pass, then opened fire. We scoured them out, but it was too late. They killed MacKenzie Wolf and his men in their crossfire."
Edelstein made his speech so quickly and smoothly that it almost sounded rehearsed. Elson would have liked to look the man in the eye, but Edelstein was sealed in his battle suit, his face invisible behind the dark, vee-shaped viewport. Elson looked around the corridor, assessing the damage. It might have been as Edelstein said; it might not.
Nova Cats had no love for Wolves, trueborn or free-born. He wouldn't mourn Wolf; mourning was reserved for the death of true warriors. MacKenzie was merely a true Dragoon, a traitor to the heritage of the Clans. If the looters had shot him down, it seemed like cosmic justice that an attempt to profit from the Clans' heritage had been the death of the man.
But if MacKenzie's death had been contrived, it could not have been the act of a single man. Elson found that fact significant. These Elementals might be more loyal to him than he had suspected. The possibility was important because one must always adapt to the circumstances that battle brings.
"Hammer,this is Elson. Medical teams to this location." He switched frequencies. "Talbot,Elson for Colonel Atwyl."
"Atwyl here. What's going on, Major Elson? We've been getting a lot of breakup in transmissions."
"Nothing good, Colonel. I believe we need to call a meeting of the officer's council. Colonel Wolf has been killed."
After a moment Atwyl said, "Acknowledged," and no more.
No orders, just an acknowledgement. Elson unclenched his teeth. Someone had to take control. "I suggest we meet aboard the Talbotone hour after the Alexanderis declared secure. I also suggest that we keep the deaths quiet at least until then."
"Acknowledged."
Elson cut the channel. He was irked by Atwyl's ineffective response, but satisfied in other ways. There were opportunities here. And there was work to be done before the meeting on the Talbotif he was to take advantage of those opportunities. Meanwhile, other matters were even more pressing.
"Are there any wounded?"
"Not a one," Edelstein reported.
"Your troopers are the only survivors of the ambush?"
"Correct, sir."
As he had suspected. "Finish securing the ship."
"Yes, sir. We'll have it all cleaned up before you take command, sir." Edelstein saluted and led his men away.
Elson didn't think it would take very long.
Searching the chamber, Elson deliberately looked for any sign that MacKenzie Wolf and his men had not been killed by the looters. Everything he saw fit perfectly with Edelstein's account of the event. The only thing out of place was the excessive force used on the last looters, but that could be ascribed to the rage of men who had just seen their commanding officer gunned down.
Considering his conversation with Edelstein before the boarding, Elson noted that he would have to be very careful around the man. Edelstein was most efficient. He would be a useful, if dangerous, tool, but with such dedicated men, Elson knew he could accomplish much.
21
The stars watched from their places high in Luthien's night sky. They, and the ghosts drifting along the streets, were the only ones to note the passage of the dark-clad man. He moved with a fluidity that would have surprised those who knew him as Taizo Homitsu. That MechWarrior never ran. He even walked with a slight limp.
Homitsu entered the storage facility and emerged moments later. The black duffel bag slung over his shoulder looked no fuller than before, but the ghosts knew it carried his long-hidden tool.
Hurrying down the street, Homitsu fretted. This was not the time he would have chosen, but his hand had been forced. Jaime Wolf was coming to Luthien. There was still work to do, things to be prepared.
Two blocks outside the compound he stopped. His breathing had become unsteady, which annoyed him. This was no time for mortal failings. Taking cover in an alley, he leaned against the wall to catch his breath. The calm was slow in coming, but come it did. At this point, haste could undo him, and he was determined to fulfill his vow, whatever the cost.
Composed, he leaned away from the wall. Ready again, he moved on. He was silent, one with the night. His passage went unremarked. The stars above watched, but they told no one. The ghosts were quiet.
Who could stop the man who did not fear death?
* * *
Dechan Fraser was familiar with ghosts, for so many haunted his dreams, but their visits were no less disturbing for that. The ghosts of Misery were the worst, and they were the ones who came to him tonight.
He slipped from the bed, surprised that Jenette hadn't been wakened by his thrashing. Or had his thrashing also been part of the dream? He crossed the hardwood of the bedroom floor, the polished boards cool and firm under his feet. Sliding open the screen, he looked out across the garden.
Luthien's stars twinkled in the predawn sky, a last hurrah before morning. Many of those stars had their own planets. For the worlds of those systems, each star was a sun whose burning light made day, while, here, each of those stars was no more than a single twinkling among the many lamps of the night.
Once Dechan himself had been called a rising star among Wolf's Dragoons, but now, other than the ghosts, how many Dragoons remembered him?
In the distance he could see the dark patch among the city lights that was the imperial palace. Takashi Kurita slept there tonight, satisfied. Ambassador Inochi had returned with word mat Jaime Wolf had accepted the duel, and the late-night newscast had made much of the story. But Dechan Fraser had received no advance warning from Theodore or any of the Kuritans he knew. No warning had come from Dragoon agents, either. Once again, Jaime Wolf was coming to Luthien and Dechan was in the dark. He wondered if Michi knew about the duel. If he did, would he be pleased or annoyed?
Dechan didn't know his own mind; how could he predict the reaction of his old friend?
If, indeed, Michi had been his friend and not just another manipulator. It seemed that everyone used Dechan when it was convenient and forgot him when other matters demanded their attention. Everyone except Jenette. She had been as loyal to him as he to her. Yet she slept on, undisturbed by his doubt and anger. It was a burden he didn't wish to lay upon her.
He was still staring out the window when she awoke and crept up behind him to give him a sleepy hug.
"Up early," she said, kissing the back of his neck.
"I thought I'd see the sunrise."
She slid around him and draped his arm around her waist. "It's a beautiful one," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. "You should have awakened me."
"I didn't want to disturb you. You looked so peaceful." He kissed her hair. "There'll be other mornings."
"But never another today." She nestled closer. "We could start it off right."
He felt her hand caress his belly and move downward. His body responded before his mind, but when he kissed her, he let himself fall into her love. For a while at least, the rest of the world went away.