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“You don't sound too pleased with that last condition.”

“Let us just say that the ISF and I do not always agree on a ‘Mech Warrior's qualifications.”

Wolf nodded in understanding. His brow wrinkled briefly as he registered a phrase Minobu had used. “You said 'his or her loyalty,' didn't you?”

“Yes. Does it surprise you that a samurai of House Kurita would consider seeking out women for positions in a fighting unit? Many women serve in the Combine's military. Though I do not expect them to excel at a man's work, I do expect all my ‘Mech Warriors to perform to their utmost. I expect them all to work together as a team in a balance of strengths and weaknesses, as your ‘Mech Warriors do. A commander cannot afford to ignore talent and competence, and so I have made my choices looking for those qualities.

“Besides, I have seen women working well in the Dragoons. Therefore, many of my choices have been women. So far, it is proving a boon. They are grateful for the recognition of their prowess. They work hard, often harder than the men, and perform well. An additional benefit is that the ISF has fewer objections to the women I choose for my ‘Mech-Warriors than the men.”

“A noble attitude.”

Minobu could tell by Jaime's smirk that he was amused, but had no idea what the mercenary found funny. Confused but undaunted, Minobu continued to fill in his friend on the progess of the Ryuken.

“The training proceeds well with the soldiers on hand. First Battalion should be operational in another month, in time for the raid on Barlow's End.”

Minobu and Jaime, bows forgotten in their hands, were just getting down to the fine details of the Ryuken's readiness when they were interrupted by the arrival of Tomiko and Marisha. “See? I told you they would be talking business,” Wolf's lady announced.

“You sound like that's all we ever do, dear,” Jaime responded.

“Sometimes it seems that way.”

“Husband,” Tomiko said, cutting off the good-natured argument before it could get rolling. “I have asked Marisha to join us for the evening meal.”

Minobu turned to Wolf. “Which means, my friend, that I am to issue the same invitation to you.”

“I would be delighted, but I have a previous engagement.”

“Business,” Marisha said in disgust.

“Afraid so,” Jaime confirmed. “But there is no reason for you to pass up the Tetsuharas' hospitality. With luck, I won't be gone long and can rejoin you later.”

Jaime started to excuse himself, but Minobu cut in and insisted on accompanying him on the short walk to the Dragoon administrative building. Jaime seemed uncommunicative, and lost in his thoughts during the walk, but Minobu found that acceptable. A stroll in the gathering twilight was pleasant. It was made more so by the comfortable, if silent, presence of a friend.

As they drew near their destination, Minobu saw a knot of Dragoon officers gathered outside. It included two Regimental Commanders, Baxter Arbuthnot and Wilhelmina Korsht, several Majors, and a few lesser officers. Among those gathered and doing most of the talking, was Natasha Kerensky. Even though she was technically outranked by half the officers there, her actual status was almost as high as that of the Regimental Commanders. She was commander of an independent company and had, more than once, refused promotion. All present seemed to be giving serious consideration to her words.

The group was agitated and disturbed. Though Minobu could sense no imminent violence, the local constabulary obviously did not share that sense of safety. Four members of the Civilian Guidance Corps had gathered at the far end of the block, and the quartet watched the Dragoons nervously. One of the men in the red-and-white striped uniforms was speaking into a comm unit.

As soon as one of the assembled officers pointed out Jaime's arrival, the whole company moved to meet him. The Dragoons were vociferous, and the cacophony of voices made it hard to determine just what the trouble was. Minobu could tell that Jaime was having trouble sorting it out as well.

“Please take the discussion inside,” Minobu said, voice deepened to override the babble. “It is not seemly to air your grievances in public. You do nothing for the reputation of the Dragoons.”

Wolf took advantage of the sudden silence. “Tai-saTetsuhara is right, people. Let's take it inside.” He started for the entrance. “Coming, Minobu?”

“Wait a minute, Colonel!” Kerensky blurted, stopping Jaime's progress towards the door. Kerensky pointed at Minobu. “He's Kurita!”

A chorus of grumbling showed agreement with her statement and all it implied. Jaime silenced it with a monosyllable charged with the force of his will.

“So?”

“So, it's Kurita we've got complaints about. The Snakes are doing us dirty and he's one of them.”

“Do you have a specific difficulty with Tai-saTetsuhara, Natasha?” Jaime's use of her name was intended to bring things to a personal level, a deliberate reminder that she was speaking of a man and not a faceless, nameless “Snake.”

Kerensky faltered, but only for a moment. Though her voice betrayed a slight loss of conviction, her pose remained as arrogant as ever. “He's still a Kurita officer. How can we trust him not to go running to the ISF and report us as mutineers?”

“I trust him. That should be enough for all of you.” Jaime's eyes swept the assembled company. “I'll want his opinion on the validity of your complaints after I get your story. It'll be easier if he hears it for himself.”

“Perhaps it would be better that I not be there, Colonel Wolf,” Minobu said in a placatory tone. “I am no longer your Liaison Officer.”

“You were before and you know the new one. Your troops are going to be working alongside ours. You're still deeply involved in this, my friend.”

In a dimly lit room in Government Center, a tall, thin man smiled as he reached across his marble-topped teak desk and switched off the monitor that relayed signals from the comm station below. The image dissolved before the sound faded, taking away the gesticulating figures before the contentious voices vanished as well.

“It seems matters are proceeding quite nicely,” he said. His hands held a Dragoon undress cap, one finger tapping a rhythm against the black wolf's-head of the unit ID patch. He tossed the cap to the taller of the two other men in the room. The scarred blond man put up a hand and caught the hat. Without any apparent effort, he made it disappear from sight.

The thin man got up and walked to the window that surveyed Cerant. A satisfied laugh filled the room. That laugh had a nerve-grating quality to it, but the two men in black Kurita uniforms showed no reaction at all.

17

Hoshon Mansion , Cerant, An Ting

Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine

16 August 3026

 

“Michi,” Minobu called over the intercom. Noketsuna appeared immediately. “Yes, sensei.”

I want to show you something in the garden.”

“Is there a problem, sensei?”

“Perhaps.” Neither spoke as they strode through the passages, soles slapping softly on the oiled wooden floors of Hoshon Mansion. It was not until they were walking among the carefully tended plants and away from the walls of the mansion that Minobu spoke again. “I want to discuss a matter that may have great bearing on the future of the Ryuken.”