Once more Katarina awoke from a disturbing sleep to find that her dreams seemed to be becoming all too real. Reports of Gauss Rifles and PPC fire resounded outside her cabin, and she rose to see through the window that the Fubar camp was apparently under attack.

  She could see Don Quixote’s Wolverine, Devil’s Incubus and Fumbles’ Devastator locked in fierce combat. As attackers, she made out a Crockett, a Flashman and a Mongoose, though there were flashes of light from more distant aggressors.

  In a flash she was dressed in her coolant suit and opened the door to her cabin. The two MPs were at their posts, but clearly rattled and attempting to assist in the chaos outside the door.

  “What is happening?” she shouted.

  “Surprise attack, apparently Blakist forces, Captain!” one shouted back to her.

  “Get me to mech bay! There has got to be a mech I can pilot to help defend!”

  The MP nodded, and the two led the way down the chaotic corridor. They made it to the lift, which seemed to take an eternity to get them to the ground floor. Then the lift door opened to yet more chaos of crew running to stations trying to man defenses against the assault. The MPs pushed their way through, and Katarina assessed the situation. She pointed to a Marauder that was still suspended in its bay.

  “There! I can pilot that!”

  The three ran for the gantry, Katarina dancing with impatience as the lift slowly raised her to the top of the mech. She vaulted out of the lift even before it had stopped, dashing to the hatch of the Marauder where a tech was waiting.

  “I need the code!” she called out, already sliding into the cockpit.

  “Seven eight, two five four!” the tech replied. She punched the activation code into the console, and the Marauder sprang to life.

  She quickly pulled up the mech profile and did a quick fist pump as the unit was identified as a 5D. With two ER PPCs, a Large Pulse Laser, two Medium Pulse Lasers and a Streak SRM2, this was her favorite model. She immediately dumped the SRM2 ammo, and stalked out of the mech bay.

  The Flashman was closest, and she immediately opened fire with both ER PPCs. Both hit, and the Flashman staggered backwards. It stayed on its feet, though, and replied with a trio of ER Large Lasers. Only one hit, and Katarina strode forward to complete the kill with the Pulse Lasers.

  Before she got there, she was slammed into by a Gauss rifle shot and a Large Laser shot from the Crockett. She staggered, but kept on going. The Crockett would have to wait; she wasn’t giving the Flashman a chance to recuperate. Shots from the Large Pulse, two Medium Pulse Lasers and one of the ER PPCs knocked the Flashman to the ground, smoking. Katarina’s heat register climbed into the yellow, but she ignored it. Before the Flashman could stand up she approached and kicked it hard in the leg. Armor and internal structure were smashed, and the Flashman fell back to the ground.

  Another Gauss rifle shot and two more Large Laser shots struck her from the Crockett, and she nearly lost her feet. But she managed to remain standing and to return fire. The Crockett, though, seemed unfazed by the damage and continued forward.

  Her heat register continued to flash at her, but this was no time to back down. She boosted the jump jets to fly sideways 120 meters, forcing the Crockett to realign to target her once more. Then she fired again, hitting the Crockett twice more.

  The Crockett continued to approach, bringing him within range of her Large Pulse Laser. Forfeiting one of her ER PPCs, she fired again and saw her heat register drop to within nominal levels.

  And suddenly she was surrounded. The Crockett, a Guillotine, and a Crab had all approached, firing weapons, and she was also hit by a PPC and Large Laser from a Lancelot poised on a rise in the distance. This time she went down, and when she tried to rise on her left arm it was kicked out from under her. Another kick shattered her hip, and the mech was downed.

  The Crab was standing directly behind the cockpit in the path of the ejection module, so Katarina was forced to climb out on her own. By then a Maxim hovercraft had approached and troops had deboarded, training rifles and SMGs on her. She was given no chance to argue, but immediately cuffed and taken aboard the Maxim where she saw a dozen other prisoners.

  An hour later the prisoners were offloaded from the Maxim onto a Dropship. Taking notice of Katarina’s coolant suit and rank emblazoned on it, her captors separated her from the other captives and took her to a separate holding cell. For an hour or more she was left cooling her heels; presumably the battle outside was still winding down and they did not have the crew available for processing the prisoners. But finally an officer entered her cell carrying a datapad. He was a tall man, dark haired but for streaks of gray in his neatly-combed hair, and was dressed in an immaculate Blakist robe. He scanned the rank and identification badge on her suit and sat down, staring at the datapad’s readings.

  “Captain Katarina Hazen, Andurien Avengers. I am Demi-Precentor Galen Cross, Penal Division. Your reputation precedes you, Captain. And what were you doing out here with Fubar Company?”

  “I had been captured by a company called Sunspot Strategic,” she replied: “Fubar Company rescued me, and were in the process of releasing me back to the Avengers. What business do you have with me or them?”

  Cross smiled thinly. “It seems the Clans were correct, after all. The Republic has fallen: the Inner Sphere and the Clans are destined to fall back into the chaos of the Succession Wars once more. We are but here to quell the damage you all would otherwise do to each other.”

  “How magnanimous of you,” Katarina spat: “and you propose to do this by bombing peaceful planets back into the Stone Age? What kind of a difference are you proposing to make? What is the difference if we demolish ourselves or you demolish us first?”

  “Not peaceful planets,” Cross protested: “Planets without aggressive capabilities will simply fall to our rule: aggressive planets will be subdued as efficiently as possible. Notice that on Malandrea we have not carried out any orbital bombardment. We have only attacked the one base occupied by Fubar Company. The rest of the planet remains suitable for habitation.”

  “Again, how kind,” grated Katarina: “And now, what?”

  The Demi-Precentor laid down his datapad, clear blue eyes scanning her intensely.

  “It seems your Fubar Company has abandoned you. After a brief resistance they boarded their dropship and took off, blasting the field around them to charcoal, including a couple of our mechs. The stravag dogs did more damage on take-off than in all the previous battle.”

  Katarina looked up sharply at the man’s use of Clan profanity, then looked away dismissively.

  “Knowledge of a few of our words does not make you a Trueborn warrior, any more than stealing our mechs makes you a Clanner.”

  The Demi-Precentor shrugged, a smile playing at his lips. “Nevertheless, I caught your attention. I must admit, I am rather a fan of your culture. Tell me: if a freebirth warrior does well, how high can he still rise in the Clan hierarchy?”

  She eyed Cross guardedly, taking in the eagerness of his tone and the new set of his shoulders. Clearly this was a subject of some interest to him. Regardless–

  “That would be a subject that would take far more time than you have probably allotted for this interrogation. Perhaps another time–”

  “Perhaps over dinner? Our chef has outdone himself for our MidSummer Fest, and I am offering some of that feast in lieu of our usual prison fare, in exchange for a chance to discuss Clan culture with a Trueborn Clan warrior. What do you say?”

  Katarina regarded the Demi-Precentor in shock. It was a moment before she spoke.

  “If this is some bizarre attempt to court me, I will have you know that I am a happily married woman–”

  Cross waved his hands dismissively. “I can assure you, that is far from my intent. My interest is in your familiarity with Clan society, nothing more.”

  He seemed quite sincere. Still rather amazed by this offer, Katarina considered, then nodded. “Very well. Rest assured I will not be sharing any Clan secrets, but yes, we can discuss open aspects of our culture.”

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  “That’s all I was suggesting. Let me order dinner, then, and we shall chat.”

  The meal was quite satisfactory, and Katarina actually found the conversation pleasant, even fun reminiscing on her past. Cross’ questions were insightful, not at all pressing on matters the Clans were guarded about, just showing a sincere interest. By dessert she was actually laughing at some of the events Cross recounted about his own youth.

  “You kept five cats and three dogs all as pets in the same household? Surely that created quite some chaos!”

  Cross nodded. “Indeed it did. The largest dog, Moose, was always curious about the latest batch of kittens, always trying to nuzzle them. Their mothers never approved, and were quite vociferous expressing their displeasure.”

  Katarina laughed, then waved away an offer of more pie. The attendant began clearing the dishes from the table. Cross smiled, toying with his glass of juice, but now sitting up more formally than he had while eating.

  “I wish to thank you for a most pleasant evening. There are other issues I will wish to discuss with you later, but I will not impose on you at this time. The guards will accompany you to your cell.”

  She nodded, sensing the evening had concluded. “Very well. Perhaps we shall find further interesting subjects again soon.”

  In spite of the cheerful evening, Katarina found herself escorted to a high security prison cell and locked in. The room was solid walls and a solid door, with only a slot for food and an eyehole in the center. Two security cameras were mounted in opposite upper corners of the room, with a single bunk and combination toilet and lavatory.

  She sank down on the bunk, musing on the difference in impression this room was making versus the impression she had received at dinner. Dinner had made her feel like an honored guest: this was nothing of the kind.

  Eventually she was escorted off the dropship, and to what appeared to be a permanent prison base. The cell she was assigned to remained highest security, with no view and no release.

  In future days the Demi-Precentor interviewed her again. This time he did not ask about the Clans: he asked direct strategic questions concerning the Andurien Avengers. Who were their members? Where were they from? What were their military backgrounds? What mechs did they pilot, and what mechs were they proficient with? Where did their loyalties lie?

  After answering a few times that she could not tell him, she reverted to stony silence as the interrogation continued. It was strange, to have had such a pleasant first interaction with the man, yet now be at such opposed angles. Had that been his intention all along? Some strange version of good cop, bad cop?

  Frustrated, she suffered through repeated interrogations that she would not answer. Never again was she offered a meal such as she had had on that first night: from here on out, it was basic kibble and canned or frozen vegetables. And always the calm, implacable face of Demi- Precentor Galen Cross.

  Then came the evening she heard a commotion and the sounds of gunfire outside her cell. She held her breath; was she getting rescued once more? She stood facing the door, waiting.

  Someone’s face covered the eyehole. Then she heard a voice calling, “Stand back!”, and she did. Suddenly the solid metal door buckled and was ripped out of its frame. Behind the door she could see the silhouette of an Ogre powered armor suit.

  At once she ran out of the cell, and two soldiers with rifles waved her towards the door of the main containment area. Once she was out she could hear the sounds of the alarm going off throughout the compound. The soldiers rushed before her to the end of the corridor, and for the first time in weeks she saw the night sky. There towering above her was a Summoner, the handholds for climbing right by the door. She didn’t need a second wave from the soldiers before she started climbing.

  At the top she met Bobbie Byrd, one of the newest pilots who had recently been added to the Avengers. Bobbie had slipped out of the pilot’s chair and was strapping herself into the crash seat.

  “All warmed up and set to go for ya, Boss!” Bobbie called out.

  Katarina dropped into the pilot’s chair and was strapped in in seconds. Her hands flew over the console, and the mech lumbered forward as the cockpit hatch dropped into place.

  The first mech she saw was a Gargoyle that she did not recognize, but as she swung her weapons that way the mech display flashed green, indicating a friendly unit.

  “Hi, hun! No need to shoot me in the back: I got a new ride since you last saw me. Now, let’s get you out of here!”

  She whooped, then checked her display. There was Allen in his new Gargoyle, Justin in the family Grasshopper, Jessica in the Crusader and Wanda in the Viper. The map reflected the direction they would need to travel to get to extraction, and six other mechs closing on them. There was the Flashman she had almost destroyed in her last battle, in the distance she could see the Crab and the Mongoose, then the Lancelot up on a ridge, the Guillotine was still at a distance and behind, but there in the way they needed to go was the Crockett which she was pretty sure was Galen Cross’ mech.

  “Attention, Katarina Hazen! This is Demi-Precentor Galen Cross, bidding one Crockett 1b against your Thor. If I win, you return to your cell without resistance. Do you accept my batchall?”

  Almost, she considered accepting. The impression of that first evening had lasted with her, despite everything to the contrary that had happened since. But she was in an untested mech, she did not know what the Crockett had other than that it was fifteen tons heavier than her, and she was surrounded by her Lancemates who had to have gone through hell and high water to get her out: she would not throw their efforts to chance.

  “You stravag dogs did not have any right to hold me in the first place! I reject your challenge: now die under my feet as would any freebirth scum who dare oppose me!”

  The Crockett was too far away to aim at her, though her own ER Large Lasers had the range to hit him. But he, the Crab, the Flashman and the Lancelot opened fire on Jessica’s Crusader.

  The Crusader was struck all at once by shots from a Gauss rifle, PPC and four ER Large Lasers. Jessica barely had the chance to fire her LRMs at the Crockett before the pounding tore off her right arm and spun her around, nearly taking her off her feet. Somehow she remained standing, staring down for a moment at the smoking limb lying on the ground next to her. Then she jumped.

  In the meantime Allen’s Gargoyle was behind a ridge and unable to fire at the Crocket, so instead he opened up on the Flashman. His autocannon struck home, as did four ER Medium lasers. The Flashman was completely overwhelmed and fell back with a crash onto the hard ground of the arroyo.

  Katarina fired at the Crockett from long range, sensing that if she could take down Cross they had an excellent chance of getting out of here swiftly. Both of the Summoner’s ER Large Lasers hit, along with shots from Justin, Wanda and the LRMs Jessica had fired. Her heart soared as the Crockett stumbled and fell.

  “We’ve got him down! Everyone, charge!”

  Behind them the Flashman scrambled to its feet and backpedalled to find a safer range from which to fire. The Crab and Guillotine advanced, trying to close, while the Mongoose did an end run around, seeking to get a shot at someone’s vulnerable back armor. This forced the Avengers into running serpentine fashion, trying to keep their backsides turned away from the possible attacks that could come at them from the rear. But this time everyone was able to focus on the Crockett as it rose and blocked them again. Wanda rained down a hail of fire from her ER Medium Lasers; Justin was still far enough out to only be able to fire his PPC, but Allen got around the ridge that had been in his way and fired his Ultra Autocannon on double-tap mode along with more ER Medium Lasers. Jessica fired her remaining LRM and medium laser and well as two Streak SRM2s.

  Once again the Crockett was inundated with fire, but this time remained standing and fired back at the Summoner. So did the remaining mechs in the Blakist squad. Katarina took several shots, including a Gauss rifle round and a PPC both in the left torso. Miraculously, she took no shots in her legs or rear torso locations, and she stayed on her feet. She was now within range to fire both Large and Medium Lasers, and thanks to the targeting computer she hit with all but one of the Medium Lasers. When the smoke cleared Katarina could see that the Crockett was now missing its right torso and arm. Still, it remained standing.

  “Oh no, Katarina Hazen: you aren’t getting away from me that easily. I don’t care how many mechs your Avengers send, you’re staying here. Squad: focus fire on the Thor, now!”

  She didn’t know whether to be shocked, furious, or both. “Kill this bastard! Now!” she hollered over the comm. Once more the Avengers rushed towards the Crockett, overheating from excessive weapons fire. The enemy mech was bathed in weapons fire, and Katarina could see that virtually every square inch of armor had been stripped from its surface. At least the mech finally fell over, even as her own mech came under fire. She reeled under the onslaught, but remained on her feet and dashing towards the extraction point.

  Justin had fallen behind, being in the slowest mech. But now he put on a sprint, and crossed over the extraction threshold. Katarina was right behind him, Jessica, Allen and Wanda quickly following suit.

  Behind them the Crockett rose unsteadily to its feet. The open comm channel crackled to life one last time.

  “This isn’t over! Trust me: we will meet again!”

  But in spite of his words, Katarina was finally free. The terrain here was heavily forested and all downhill: perfect conditions for the Avengers to escape, but impassable for their pursuers. Katarina jumped as far as she could go, deep into the woods.

  Behind her, Bobbie whooped in delight. “You did it! We’re clear!”

  “Yes, we are!” Katarina switched channels to the one for Allen alone, wishing for more privacy but taking what she could get.

  “Oh my love: you do it! You got me free. How much I love you!”

  “Of course, my darling,” came Allen’s voice back over the radio. “We would have had you sooner, but you kept trading hands, stolen from one to another. I can’t begin to tell you how frustrating that was! When we heard from Fubar that you were rescued we came immediately, but they were already gone.”

  “They were attacked by the Blakists, and took heavy losses,” she replied: “I was already out in the field trying to defend them: there was nothing they could have done to keep me safe. We still owe them for their original rescue.”

  “And we will repay them,” Allen affirmed, “at the first available opportunity. But now, let’s get you home!”

  Even as they had been speaking they continued to crash through the undergrowth or jump over it, as each mech was capable. Finally the Purple Onion came into view, and Katarina gladly boarded and locked her mech into its new bay. She and Bobbi dismounted and she ran along the gantry to where Allen’s Gargoyle would soon be parked. As he did not have jump jets, it took him longer to arrive, but she waited patiently. When he finally did arrive, locked down and came out of his cockpit, she threw herself into his arms and kissed him passionately. The crew around them erupted in cheers, but they did not care. They were together once more, and that was all that mattered.