Falcon Guard

The moment his feet hit the ground, he looked around alertly. When he nodded in her direction, Diana thought he must have spotted her Warhawklurking in the forest's shadows.

She studied his face, thinking it might solve the mysteries he had created for her. But there were no clues there, much less solutions. It was an impassive face, its skin rough from years in severe climates, yet generally untouched by age. The eyes seemed to shine in their sockets like jewels, giving off the same serene detachment. It was not a coward's face.

Diana worked her lips nervously, chewing on the bottom lip, rubbing the top one on her upper teeth. She was angry at feeling anythingabout this man. What did it matter that he was her father? Yet she knew that if Aidan Pryde brought even the mildest shame to his unit, it would bring deep shame to her. The thought was so unClanlike that she did not like admitting it even to herself. Freeborn warrior she might be, but Diana preferred to think like a trueborn one. Concepts like father should have no meaning to her, especially since Aidan had never been a father to her, nor was he even aware of their blood tie.

* * *

Aidan saw a flash of light off the BattleMech stationed at the forest edge. From what he could see of its configuration when he squinted, it was a Warhawk.He fervently hoped that neither Jared Mahoney nor any of his insurgents had spotted it, however. This was no time to provoke them, especially over a scout 'Mech.

The last thing Aidan wanted now was any provocation. As commander of the Quarell occupation forces, he wished to prevent the u

Melanie Truit had insisted on accompanying him to Vreeport, suggesting that it would be prudent to have at least two spokesmen when dealing with emotionally volatile rebels like Jared Mahoney. "Because I am not Clan, it may be easier for me to interpret ideas that now seem so unacceptable to him," she said.

"I insist on conducting the negotiations myself. This is not a team effort. Understood?"

"Understood, Star Colonel."

"But I will appreciate your contributions and insights, Melanie Truit."

"I thank you. You are unusually decorous for a warrior, particularly a Clan Jade Falcon officer."

"And have you observed so many Clan officers, Melanie Truit?"

"Not many, but enough. And you make me wish to be as direct as any Clan warrior. I wish to couple with you when all this is over."

Aidan's stride broke.

"You hesitate," she said, with an embarrassed laugh. "Is it that I have violated a taboo? Are you Clansmen so culturally primitive that a woman may not make such an overture to a man?"

"No. My Clan has no such taboo. But an individual from another caste Or someone not of the Clans may not initiate the request to couple."

"And, as not-Clan, I am unacceptable to you?"

She was begi

"No, it is not that at all. I merely say that, as a Clan warrior, I must ask that you wait for me to make the offer."

"Then I will wait, Star Colonel. But do not ask me to wear caste-marks."

Was he mistaken or had her voice taken on a sarcastic edge?

"I assure you, Melanie Truit, that the offer will be made."

"I am pleased, I think."

A ComStar adept, a lower-class functionary in the I

Coming around the vehicle, with Melanie Truit just behind him, Aidan began immediately to address Jared Mahoney. "I am Star Colonel Aidan Pryde. I would speak with you, Jared Mahoney. Open your gates."

"What makes you think I wish to meet with you, Pryde!"

Aidan cringed at being addressed by his surname alone. That was never done within the Clans. A Bloodname was sacred, and no one would ever use it in any casual, pejorative, distorted, or demeaning way. And certainly not as a form of address without other names and titles.

But, as Melanie Truit had instructed him, it was essential in hostage negotiations to remain calm and to keep the rebels from controlling the discussions.

"If you wish to have your own people come out of this alive, you must deal with me, Mahoney."

Aidan used the rebel's surname with malice, but doubted that the man cared how he was addressed.

"All right. Are you armed? If so, drop whatever weapons you have."

"I am not armed."

"Who is that with you?"

Melanie Truit stepped forward. "I am Melanie Truit, ComStar Demi-Precentor for this sector of Quarell."

"So ComStar is frightened by us, too?"

"Do not become self-important, Jared Mahoney. It is only I who am interested. No official ComStar policy is to be inferred."

"Are you armed, Truit?"

"No."

"Then come forward, both of you."

* * *

Diana watched as her father and the ComStar representative went through the opened gates of Vreeport. She felt a catch in her throat as the gates closed behind them. It suddenly occurred to her that she might never see her father again. The regret aroused by that thought was as detestable as it was unbearable.

10

Jared Mahoney led them down a cluttered Vreeport street. Hardly a street, Aidan thought. More like a dirt path strewn with litter. The buildings, too, were battle-scarred, with doors hanging off hinges, windows broken, char marks on siding. The people seemed to hang back from them, their gestures nervous and agitated. Hostility hung over Vreeport like a corona around a moon.

The rebel leader pointed to a large building at the end of the street. "In there first," he said, an odd note of satisfaction in his voice.

The building turned out to be a warehouse full of weapons, ammunition, and boxes of explosives. "This is one of many filled with enough volatile material to create one damn big blast," Jared Mahoney said. "I show you this to prove that we're not bluffing."

Melanie Truit touched Aidan's arm. "This may still be bluff," she whispered. "Maybe this is their only warehouse, not 'one of many.' And how can we know what those boxes are filled with?"

"Do the people of the I

Melanie Truit smiled, and Aidan noted once more the eve

Aidan bristled at the allusion to naivete, but all he said was, "You are right about the Clans, Precentor. We sometimes use bluff in our bidding procedures, but blatant lying is not our way. I suppose it is another aspect of the degeneration of the I

"The Clans are skilled enough in warfare, Star Colonel, but the sophistication of I

"You call it sophistication?"

She shrugged. "A word merely."

"Not merely, I think."

She smiled again and took his hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze before releasing it. No one had ever touched Aidan like that before, and the sensation gave him pleasure. He even looked forward to being with this woman later, once the negotiations were concluded. That anticipation perplexed him. He generally attended to any problem at hand without being distracted by thoughts of the future except as it related to the problem. Casual speculation about the future seemed unClanlike.