aWhy did we change our original name, the name the Founder himself chose, to Clan Diamond Shark?a aUm, every Fox Clansman knows this history. After the hated Snow Raven Clan introduced a genetically altered sharka"a aThose are just facts,a Sha interrupted. aTidbits of history. Floating pieces of information which do not, cannot, convey what occurred. We changed our name for one reason and one reason only.a Petr began to feel like a student and hated Sha for the feeling. Nevertheless, he fought to think through the haze. Why did we change our name? He ran headlong into an endless field of giant cotton b.a.l.l.s; nothing hurt, but at every turn something moved into his path, slowing him down, stopping forward movement. Forward thought. Finally, after what felt an eternity, he found an answer. aTo survive.a aExactly,a Sha said, with more pa.s.sion in his voice than Petr could ever remember. aTo survive, we adapted to the new situation. When so many Clans lie broken and destroyed along the path of history, Clan Sea Fox has adapted and changed. And now we among all the Clans have one of the most powerful and influential positions in the Inner Sphere.a He took another step toward Petr, once again, a look of pleading. Or almost pleading. Not in his features, but more in his posture, the slightly upraised arm again. It did not seem possible that Sha would plead. For what?

Sha opened his mouth again but his voice came as though m.u.f.fled by the endless field of cotton. aWhy did we change our name back again?a Petr thought about this. Time began to trickle one grain of sand at a time through existenceas hourgla.s.s. Finally found what he needed, though it barely came out as a word: aSur.a The rest lost to mumbling.

aTo survive. To adapt. So we morphed into our current Khanates and Aimags. We have always adapted, Petr. We have never shirked doing what we must. To ensure our survival, we have done what we must. Can you not see?a Petr found himself lying back on the bed without knowing how he got there. A soft glow smeared everything into a haze of slow-moving shapes and dulled sounds. He tried to concentrate on Shaas words, vaguely saw the nurse talking to Sha, her voice almost strident. Gesturing. To Petr. To the door. She drugged me. The thought should have brought anger, but instead brought only warmth.

His vision began tunneling, but he focused on Shaas face. On his mouth, which suddenly encompa.s.sed the universe. Fingers sunk into words to keep him from his own abyss.

aWe have always done what we must to survive,a Sha continued. aWe make the decisions necessary to ensure our survival, regardless of the consequences. Too many Clans have been destroyed because they could not adapt. We adapt. We survive. We must continue to adapt. Petr, we must adapt. You can aid me. What we could not accomplisha Existence washed away.

17.

Beta Aimag Hospice, Near Halifax Vanderfox, Adhafera Prefecture VII, The Republic 22 July 3134 The exercise felt good.

Sweat poured from his body as though from an open faucet. A cleansing feeling, washing away his hurt, his frustration, his darkness; keeping unwanted words at bay. The small exercise room might as well not have existed, its only two other occupants beyond his perception; their own determination to overcome their injuries a pale candle to his own, which burned as bright as a DropShip drive plume in a moonless black night.

Amazing what hating an enemy could do.

Petr redoubled his efforts. Knew the witch would likely be by soon to scold him. Tell him to slow down. To pace himself. How could he? He felt as though the universe were pa.s.sing him by. As though great events for his Clan, and possibly for the rest of the Inner Sphere, were in motion and head been sidelined. Stuck on the bench.

He could not accept that.

Almost twenty minutes pa.s.sed; dehydration and exhaustion clawed at him. Finally, satisfied that he had pushed his body and spirit to the very edge, he relented. Stepped off the machine and stood panting, breathing in the stuffy air, breathing in the smell of his own sweat. Slowly, he became aware of another person in the room, realized dimly that she had spoken to him twice already, and he had not responded. He tried to decide what he should feel about that. Shruggeda"felt only a dull echo of the pain only three days pasta"and walked the four steps to his water bottlea"a talisman to be grasped only after a straight thirty minutes of work. Such concentration, his ability to simply push away existence in his need to be reborn, should be lauded. A warrioras concentration. An ovKhanas concentration. He nodded his head.

aMerchant saFactor Tia. What news?a She didnat even blink her flashing blue eyes before responding. Didnat show any reaction at all to his new and improved look.

Then again, she probably wore such a look during coupling. Business. Always business and everything else a distraction to ignore.

aThe negotiations proceed apace,a she began immediately. Blunt as ever. aHowever, Beta Aimag has made considerable headway, matching our bid point for point. Their interference has dragged out the negotiations interminably, with no end in sight.a aHow did this happen? We began negotiations many days before Beta Aimag even arrived. How did they catch up so quickly?a aTheir saFactor is agifted.a Though her face didnat change, Petr understood that to be the highest compliment shead pay to any other merchant; head not drag anything further out of her, even with an a.s.sault aMech.

aWhat concessions do we need to make to secure the contract?a aThese merchants are devious. They are playing both ends of the jump drive. Though such a game could lead to an explosive decompression in any other situation, they have recognized the mutual animosity of our Aimags. They believe one side or the other will reach for this contract, regardless of the ludicrous concessions they demand.a Petr stretched his neck carefully, felt the pull of skin healing quickly. Petr had never paid much attention to the medical accomplishments of the scientist caste. Of course, he knew they could grow new limbs from buds and regrow skin. Still, he found it amazing how quickly they could heal skin if the patient didnat mind scars, terrible scars. He felt new respect for their expertise and advancements. For his rapid recovery, though he believed his will (and hate) contributed greatly to his speedy recovery.

aA stiff-necked Falconer could not fail to see our aanimosity. You did not answer my question. You are my saFactor, Tia. Are you failing me?a He considered what else to say, but knew there were no c.h.i.n.ks in her armor that words could penetrate. Someday, he hoped to learn how she achieved such imperviousness.

aNeg, ovKhan. I only fail when I do not use all the skills at my disposal. I believe the concessions they ask will make this entire venture cost more than we are willing to pay.a Petr laughed out loud, the sharp bark almost a hammer blow in the small room. aTia, this venture has already proved more costly than it could possibly be worth.a aAff, ovKhan. This I understand. Nevertheless, I cannot advise you to take any offer other than to concede to Beta Aimag. Regardless of the short-term honor such a victory will gain for Beta, in the long run it will be a drain they cannot sustain. An embarra.s.sment we can capitalize upon, if not steal outright.a aBut what of our Aimagas honor now? We did not even place in the top two slots of the Trial of Bloodright. We lost the Rituals of Combat. How can I simply concede the final point without a fight? Can I allow such a blow?a aAff. Our warriors, our Aimag will survive. Has always survived. We do what we must.a Her words were limned in fire. Stood out like an afterimage of a particle projector cannon beam seen with the naked eye. That her words mirrored Shaas so closely shook him. Disturbed him more than he wanted to admit.

He had worked hard to ignore the specifics of his conversation with Sha. Tried to ignore his own reactions (betrayals) to Shaas words. If he was honest with himself, those words were another reason for his pa.s.sionate exercises: the physical exertion allowed him to trap Shaas words in a region of his mind he did not have to face.

He must take slow steps. Once step at a time.

He raised the water bottle and drank deeply. Shook his thoughts away like a dog sloughing off water. Concentrated once more on the current situation.

aAff. I know we will survive. But I do not like to admit this defeat by Beta Aimag. There has to be another way.a After a few heartbeats, she said, aPerhaps there is.a He looked at Tia. aSpeak.a aStewart.a aAh,a he responded. Like a contrail, the possibilities unfolded. Long minutes stretched as he gazed at it from several angles.

Of a sudden, Snow came to mind. He realized with a jolt many days had pa.s.sed since head even thought of the repugnant (strangely attractive?) spheroid. The mention of Stewart brought to mind her allegations of a possible invasion by the Marik-Stewart Commonwealth. Then again, head been busy, he thought wryly. Invasion or not, Stewart could not be handed off like that.

aNo, Tia. We must find some other way. We know Stewart is the biggest prize in this entire regiona"a fact I cannot believe Beta has not yet discovered.a He nodded, giving Tia her due on that point.

aI agree, ovKhan. But distracting Beta Aimag by offering them Stewart is the only option we currently have.a He thought another moment. Felt Shaas words tickling his mind, trying to surge back to the fore.

Could he really have meant what he implied? aWe do what we must.a Any Clansman, including a Fox Clansman, using such words could mean anything. Could mean they would go to any lengths necessary. And despite Shaas vagueness, Petr knew the rival ovKhan could only be talking about one person.

Khan Hawker.

Could he really mean to move against the ilKhanate and Mori Hawker? A chill wind, as though from Shaas frigid eyes, swept down his skin, wrenching up goose b.u.mps. Neg, not even Sha could be so reckless. But eyes of ice burned through his memories to stab holes in these feeble denials.

Aff, he just might.

He realized several minutes had pa.s.sed. Tia stood waiting, patientlya"though she must wonder if his injuries had rattled his mind.

aTia, delay any resolution to the negotiations. The one thing we have remaining in our favor is time. Delay for weeks if that is what it takes.a Her face showed she was unhappy with his decision, but she accepted his order without complaint. Petr could use more subordinates like her, regardless of her bluntness.

aAff, my ovKhan. It shall be as you say.a She departed, leaving him alone. No, not alone. He could not seem to escape his thoughts. Shaas words. Petr felt at a loss for how to move forward. This simply went beyond him.

How to proceed?

Moving into his stretchinga"he refused to do it the first time and regretted it terribly the next morninga"his mind continued to follow multiple jump paths. Continued to seek a way forward.

SaKhan Sennet should be at Tania Borealis at this point.

The thought blossomed into his mind as though placed there. He stood up suddenly, heedless of the dizziness that washed over him at the abrupt motion.

SaKhan Sennet. Yes, he would aid him. He would know how to proceed.

18.

Near Beta Aimag Encampment, Halifax Vanderfox, Adhafera Prefecture VII, The Republic 30 July 3134 The rain shielded Snow better than any camouflage. Of course, the driving sheets of water also made it difficult to see. Not to mention uncomfortable, as it plastered her clothing, molding it to her skin, making her uncomfortably aware of her stocky body. She had ample a.s.sets (plenty of men said as much), but they were hidden behind a body that refused to yield to slimness, no matter how fanatic her workout regime. For years she dealt with the disappointment of her unattractiveness through work, achieving a level of success that forced her superiors to recognize her prowess, even as they averted their eyes. Her success allowed her to reach a dtente with her own body. Then someone would remind her in the most brutal way possible, and a few too many years of swallowing askance looks and quirked lips would rise like the undead, creating not a hot rage, but a cold fury to scour away mountains and souls.

Or at least to scour away the b.a.s.t.a.r.d she stalked.

A particularly strong gust of wind threw a wall of warm water into her face. Most rainstorms she had experienced were cold, and one part of her mind kept wondering why she was taking a shower with her clothes on.

She smiled coldly. Strange the demons we carry. And the demons we must exorcise. Of course, all for duty. All for duty. She tucked away a threatening chuckle for later use.

Coming to the end of the street, she backed up against the wall and did a quick take around the corner as her target pa.s.sed. Only a handful of people were out this late on an ordinary night; the savage storm kept most reasonable people indoors tonight. However, her target stopped a half dozen paces ahead, apparently deep in conversation with someone she couldnat recognize; the strength of the storm didnat even allow her to identify clothing.

She leaned back. Felt the rough-cut stone press firmly into her back, as runnels of water poured down her neck. Made her shoulder ache slightly, though she was sure it was mostly mended at this point. She began to systematically loosen her muscles, knowing combat loomed.

Though it should be pretty minimal, considering.

Her mind, at that moment, chose to replay this eveningas scene. The eveningas aembarra.s.sment. She hated reliving the pain, yet like a tongue that probes a sore tooth, she couldnat help but worry the wound. Pick the scab.

Anyone got salt?

aHey, big guy, havenat seen your type around here before,a Snow said as she sidled up to the end of the bar next to the Elemental. Corin. Such a nice name to match such a nice body.

The giant slowly raised the fusionnaire to his lips, tossed off the dregs and placed the gla.s.s back on the table; he did so with a delicateness she found fascinating. It surprised her such a beast of a man could contain adelicateness.a She wondered if those hands were as delicate in other activities.

A vision of endless flesh sparked and warmth blossomed.

The bartender arrived. aGive me vodka, straight upaa"she glanced sidewise at her companiona"aand my friend here another of whatever heas having.a She tossed a five-stone on the bar and swiveled back to Corin. Shead not taken a seat yet, waiting to see how the conversation might unfold.

aAh, the strong, silent type. I like those kind, too. Though youare not always so silent, right?a In contrast to her body, her eyes and voice were her best a.s.setsa"instruments her training honed to exquisite sharpness. Instruments that many times allowed her to overcome her bodyas adeficiencies. Yes, that word worked very well.

Corin appeared like a vast tree: unyielding, uncaring, unmoved. His reticence, of course, only ratcheted up her interest. Her heat.

With a smoothness unexpected from her body type, she eased onto the stool, casually leaned back. Let the atmosphere of the placea"after the mad dash to avoid being soaked in the downpoura"wash around her. Sounds and aromas swirled in a tidepool of friendships and camaraderie.

The bartender came back, slapping down a coaster and slopping the drink in his haste to turn away; she ignored his distaste, her attention focused elsewhere. Saw him make another fusionnaire, and grabbed it out of his hand before he could deliver it.

aHere ya go, big boy,a she said, sliding the mug in front of the elemental. Medication delivered, with her usual flair and none the wiser.

She watched him pound back this fusionnaire as well and followed suit, tossing off her entire shot of vodka. The liquid splashed frozen-cold through mouth and throat, exploded with nova-hot warmth in her stomach, almost as good as climax. Her eyes watered. She glanced askance at Corin, blinking away tears and imagination. Almost. Yes, this should be very good.

aSo you going to introduce yourself, or do I need to do all the talking?a Her voice practically purred, honed by the shot of vodka like fine-grade motor oil to an Avanti V12.

Once more, no response. The tree act again. Did she need to turn up the heat? Singe his whiskers a little? She relished the idea.

Swiveling around on the barstool, she leaned out behind him and called out to no one in particular, aJulia, hey, itas Cindy. Give me a minute and Iall come to your table. Okay.a Her voice, despite its volume, carried only a short distance beyond the immediate vicinity, all in the timbre.

Turning back toward the bar, she laid a casual hand on his upper arm (those muscles!), while leaning forward enough to lightly brush her breast up against his forearm, tossing a flash of flesh from her braless, low-cut top up to hungry male eyes.

aThat was Julia. Such a sweetheart. We work together.a She laughed deeply and kept her touch on him a half heartbeat longer than an accidental touch might have warranted. Let him try to decide if I did it on purpose or not. Should only increase the tension. The desire.

As she eased back around, removing her hand from his arm, his head, fully a half meter above her own, swiveled around and tipped down to look her directly in the eyes. Like a flower under the harsh pounding of a desert sun, she slowly wilted. It had been a very long time since shead faced such loathing.

Without a change of expression, the deep tone she hoped to hear panting her name instead tried to flail flesh from bone. aDo not ever touch me again, filth.a Snow easily discounted such words. She tried to rally, pasted a hurt look on her face. aHey, sorry. It was an accident.a Pushed the look into a sultry pout. aYou not into Inner Sphere women? Only Clanners? Donat know what youare missing,a she said, trying to parry the emotionless void of his voice and eyes with another glimpse of her ample b.r.e.a.s.t.s and a tone that vibrated with s.e.xual tension. She peered up into dead eyes and knew shead lost this fight already. Time to cut her losses. But his next words slipped under skin, despite her years of training.

aI have sampled such pleasures to my satisfaction. But I prefer my meat fresh and sweet. You are neither. Leave.a From one moment to the next she moved from the warmth of the bar and words that cut more than she cared to admit, to standing in the lukewarm downpour.

Corin. Such a nice name. Too bad it hid such a rotten core, such a void. Now she just wanted to see something in those eyes. Some emotion. Yes, any emotion would be good to see. Squeezed from him slowly and with deliberate care.

Snow shook off the last vestiges of the memory (tongued it one more time for good measure) and peeked around the corner again. She could just see him moving down the street once morea"a flicker of movement before the rain washed away his existence.

She casually slipped around the corner, her current jumpsuit the opposite of low-cut and s.e.xy. Of course, s.e.xy came in many forms, and she might still have a chance to prove that to Corin.

She moved to the other side of the street and picked up speed, almost slipping between the droplets of rain. She began to push her senses to the limit, finding ways to blank out the sound and visual obscurants around her. Trying to find and pinpoint the thread of heavy treada"her elusive prey.

Five minutes bled like drops of blood from a shallow wound. She caught up with him almost immediately, but the situation was not yet right. She needed better cover. Better timing. She kept pace, but far enough back to hopefully escape his notice. Finally, the mountain slowed and crossed the street. He almost appeared to be meandering.

He knows Iam here. That someone is here.

She didnat for a moment underestimate him. Regardless of the void at his core, he represented generations of genetic breeding to produce the ultimate hand-to-hand soldier. She could take him, but she needed to be careful. Couldnat relax. Couldnat let her cold fury cloud her judgment. Focus.

With practiced ease she slipped her shoes from her feet, preferring to trust her hard soles on the wet concrete. As he reached the sidewalk on her side of the street, only a half dozen meters separated them; she rushed forward, low, hands out to balance against any move she would make.

At the last possible second the Elemental moved with blinding speed, spinning to the right and following through with a sweep of his left leg, placing himself in a crouch, with right hand firmly planted on the curb.

Snow moved with the sweep, doing a backward flip that briefly touched hands to sidewalk just after his trunk of a leg swept through, before launching herself into a twist, landing facing him, feet already carrying her backward, bleeding off speed. She stopped in her own crouch.

d.a.m.n. Hadnat the drugs taken effect yet? He shouldave been moving at half his current speed, if not less. Chagrined, Snow realized she had not thought to check whether Elementals were naturally resistant to drugs. Still, the dose shead used couldave put a horse to sleep. Almost. Had to have affected him somewhat, right? Enough for her to make it out of this with minimal damage, she hoped.

In the s.p.a.ce between two light posts, with the darkness and rain, she could barely make out his face even at two meters; she felt confident he wouldnat know her from a wallflower.

aYou have no idea what you have done, surat.a That deep voice. Even now, she felt a shiver slide up her spine. Something in the timbre. The tone. She chuckled softly. Even now she still wanted him. Still wanted to see what such a mountain of flesh could do.

Youare a silly girl. Daydreaming of a romp with a man who insulted you and is about to try to pound you back to the Star League.

She saw him stiffen slightly at her laugh. Snow laughed again, this time with more hilarity at her own fickleness as much as to try to disarm Corin.

aYou will soon not have the teeth, much less the jaw, for such laughter, surat.a Now he talked? Now he couldnat shut up? She smiled and laughed even louder. Could it be this easy to goad him?

He bellowed and rushed forward, low and hands out to try to grab her regardless of which direction she might move.

With a return bark of laughter (a dismissal of his own anger), Snow dove forward in a roll that placed her into a springing crouch as he swept into her. She pounded forward with a triple fist to his crotch as he scrambled to stop his forward movement. Some would be horrified at such an attack, but shead been taught long ago to set aside such niceties. If she won, who cared how she got there? She didnat and her opponents certainly never did.

Supernova-strength pain blossomed in both shoulders as his aMech-sized fists hammered down; she grunted, giving him kudos for sloughing off the pain she had just delivered to his manhood.

aStravag. Time to die.a She flopped backwarda"marveling he would waste breath right nowa"and used the momentum to roll herself up and to the side. She planted her left hand and scissored her legs back toward his right leg as he leaned over farther to reach her with those flesh hammers. Though he landed another blow, which momentarily lit off the mother of all bells in her ears, he put himself far enough off center that her blow knocked him to the side and down before he could adjust.

She rolled left several timesa"felt a jolt as she rolled off the curb and into the street; tasted copper as she bit her tonguea"and came up into a crouch, facing him again. She knew he would expect her to pause and a.s.sess the damage: such inaction was for the weak. She attacked again, sweeping left toward his blind spot as Corin regained his feet and tried to turn as well.

Planting her left foot firmly (her flesh giving her purchase her shoes wouldave denied), she swung once again directly into his line of attack. Caught him off guard.

A frenzy of strokes and counterstrokes exploded as she pushed him back by the simple expediency of never letting up. Kept him reacting to her moves. With a feint at her head, Corin backed up against the wall. She moved forward left, slid slightly to the right and took a calculated blow directly to her right chest; she compartmentalized the pain and washed it away like the rain carried away the blood from cuts on her face and her knuckles. In return, she stabbed a flat knife hand directly into his throat.

Years of training allowed her to land the blow with a precision few could match. She felt the crunch of cartilage and knew he now felt the stunning pain of a trachea on the verge of partial collapse; a hairbreadth more pressure wouldave crushed it, ending his life in gasping, horrified pain. Pain lit his face like fire through old parchment. He grabbed at his throat as he wrenched his head backward in an attempt to ease the pressurea and smashed his head into the building wall behind him.

He dropped like a puppet with cut strings.

She breathed shallowly, aware too deep a breath would painfully stretch her right breast; shead have a aMech-sized bruise there come morning. Stretched her right shoulder, surprised the old wound didnat hurt more. She sucked at her knuckles for a moment, then bent to reposition his head to lessen the strain on his tracheaa"keep it bent too long and it would collapse.

She couldnat believe how much he weighed; it took her longer than she could have guessed to move him to his new residence.

Now, with him restrained on the table, she flicked the needle several times to push out the last of the air bubbles and expertly added the drug to the IV line.

Then, with the languid grace of a Holt prairie cat nestling up to its kill to feed, she climbed up on the table, straddled his ma.s.sive chest (the warmth still blossomed; she laughed at her own folly) and placed her face only centimeters from his. Shead not even taken time to dry off, and droplets of water slowly fell from her hair, splashing onto his face, pooling in the corners of his eyes and running down his chiseled features.