Shadd assessed Akuma's half-smile and the look in his eyes as amusement over something that had turned out exactly as expected. It was a petty victory that would cost the Dragoons nothing, and so the commando relaxed. Akuma wasn't the kind of threat he could deal with using a laser pistol. Not yet, at least. Shadd let his contempt of Akuma's petty maneuvering show in his face.
This fellow is a small surprise,Akuma thought. He does not wear the designation of a ‘MechWarrior. Yet he carries himself as one, not like some half-trained support trooper or out-of-tone staffer. His reactions are quick, attuned to the world in a way that a ‘MechWarrior is not.- He is almost as sharp as Quinn, standing quietly in the corner. This Dragoon has none of the cocky air of invulnerability that is such a pitiably common flaw in 'Mech pilots. He is a man who relies on himself and what he can hold in his hands. An interesting find among the Dragoons. Is he an anomaly,Akuma wondered, or do the Dragoons have assets not listed on their personnel rosters?
When Akuma saw Shadd relax, lowering his guard before noticing Quinn, he decided that perhaps the man was not so dangerous after all. Even an entire battalion of Dragoons like this Captain could do little to halt the inevitable. Those who slackened their attention in the presence of potential danger were no threat.
“Come in, officers,” Akuma invited. “I expect you are here to meet Colonel Wolf. The boarding locks are completing their cycle now, so you won't have long to wait.”
The Dragoon officers stepped cautiously into the chamber, spreading out around the padded benches of the waiting area. Akuma noticed the sharp turn of the head when Shadd became aware of the tall, blond man in the comer. Though Akuma knew the black-clad Quinn was acutely aware of his surroundings, the man moved not a muscle in reaction to the Dragoons. Shadd pretended the Kuritan was not there, a detente that amused Akuma.
The sound of the inner airlock door cycling preempted any further interactions. Pneumatic cylinders whined as they released the locks that sealed the waiting area from the passageway to the docked DropShip. The heavy metal door slid back into the wall, revealing seven figures moving down the jointed tunnel. They were backlit shadows, unrecognizable until they reached the light spill from the waiting room. Shadows became people as Wolf and his five officers stepped onto An Ting orbital station. The seventh person was a Kurita officer who bowed stiffly to Akuma and then to Wolf before striding from the chamber without a word.
Wolf's face was grim, and it did not need a kimaster to see that he was upset. Akuma knew that it was probably because of Kurita Space Command's refusal to allow the DropShip to proceed from the JumpShip to the Hephaestusstation until they had placed an escort officer aboard. These were, he decided, more well-placed irritants.
Wolf took in Akuma and his man in the corner, then deliberately snubbed them by turning his back. “What's going on here?” he said to his own officers.
Cameron cleared his throat to focus Wolf's attention on himself. He threw a glance at Akuma. “Ah ... Colonel,” he began.
Wolf held up a hand to stop him, then turned with a frown toward Akuma, the hand still elevated. The Kuritan stood his ground even when Wolf jerked his head in the direction of the corridor.
Akuma pretended to take Wolf's gesture as an invitation to speak. “I do not understand the reluctance of your officers to speak. They seemed anxious to see you when they arrived.” Then he feigned a look of sudden revelation. “Ah, perhaps, they have unkind things to say about the Combine. Let them be frank. I am your Professional Soldiery Liaison, after all. If there are complaints, you should be able to air them in my presence. There might be something I could do.”
“Doesn't matter whether he stays or not, Colonel. I expect there isn't anyplace on this station where we won't be overheard,” Major Stanford Blake said as he stepped up. His hostility was evident in his scornful tone.
Wolf nodded.
“All right, William. Let's have it.”
Cameron began almost reluctantly “Well, Colonel, it's like this. There's been a lot of friction with the Draconians since you left. Our reputation among the civilians is being undermined by constant misrepresentation in the Kuritan media. And we're getting the same raw treatment on all the garrison worlds. The result has been demonstrations, protests, brawls, and strikes, but nothing we haven't been able to handle. So far. The troops are getting itchy, Colonel. I think we have trouble brewing.”
“Brewing!” burst in Dechan Fraser. He had been impatient throughout Cameron's speech. “Boiled over, more like! Quit dancing around it, Cameron.”
“At ease, Captain Fraser,” Blake cautioned.
“What are you talking about, son?” Wolf asked quietly, his eyes showing deep concern.”
“There was a fight last night. Some Dracs got themselves hurt.”
“How bad?”
Dechan's eyes were on the floor. “They got themselves hurt dead.”
Wolf's tone was calm, but it was now a glacial calm. “Exactly what happened?”
Dechan hesitated and Shadd stepped in. “Five members of Fraser's company, three of Lean's, and two of my ... er ... friends, were taking their off-duty in a bar called Munnen's. It's an O.K. hole. Ever since our people started to frequent it, the crowd has become all Dragoons or friends. The locals knew it. The bar was crowded last night, some kind of festival, I guess. Lotsa out-of-towners, some Ryuken Jocks and a few of the former regulars, but mostly strangers. Things got a bit noisy, and some of the strangers had some things to say about the Dragoons. Our people took it unkindly and answered with their fists. When the smoke cleared, we had five of ours for medevac, one critical. There were three Dracs for the bag. All wearing civvies.”
“This is most disturbing, Colonel Wolf,” Akuma said indignantly. “I am appalled at your Dragoons' lack of restraint.”
“Those troublemakers only got what they asked for,” Dechan insisted.
Shadd put a hand on Dechan's shoulder as he cut him off. The pressure calmed Dechan in a way that the commando's words couldn't. “Take it easy, kid.”
The commando addressed his next words to Wolf. “The fight was fair enough. Those Dracs were playing with fire and got burned.”
“There will be repercussions,” Blake pointed out. “I'm sure we'll be hearing from eyewitnesses who'll say that the Dragoons provoked the confrontation.”
Akuma ignored the intel officer's stare. He shifted his own eyes to Wolf's face, trying to gauge how the mercenary Colonel was taking the situation. Wolf's expression gave no hint.
“Perhaps,” Akuma prodded, “that was the case. Perhaps your troopers thought that they could use the opportunity of the New Year Festival to hide their criminal actions. Perhaps they provoked innocent citizens to create violence that would soothe their own savage souls. Deliberate provocation by a trained warrior against an untrained civilian might be considered murder.”
“Murder! Those malking Snakes weren't civilian or untrained! They put five good soldiers into hospital. We're being set up!”
“Fraser!” Wolf snapped. “Damp it!”
Akuma's tone was ominous. “This incident could lead to worse things.”
Wolf glared indignantly at Akuma. “Such as the DCMS stepping in?”
“Military intervention would be a most drastic course, Colonel. It is certainly not one I would recommend in this matter. Your own officers report that the troops were off-duty. By the terms of contract, they fall under civilian legal jurisdiction if they leave designated military enclaves while off-duty. It would seem, therefore, to be a civil matter—one suited to the Civilian Guidance Corps and under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Justice. If an investigation shows guilt, your soldiers will most assuredly pay for their crimes. Until that time, I expect that the troopers in question and any others involved in the case, as witnesses or peripheral participants, will remain on planet.”