CSADS Silk Road, Somerset
Tamar March, Lyran Commonwealth
12 March 3050
"I believe that Khan Crichell will be disappointed to learn that you are departing," Timur Malthus observed from where the two Khans were watching trucks empty the freighter out.
Virgilia gave the Jade Falcon's junior Khan a sidelong look. "I was not aware that he was so fond of my company, Timur."
"Not fondness." The man reached into his pocket and pulled out some goggles that he donned to protect his eyes against the dust kicked up by the trucks. He made no measure to offer Virgilia any, leaving her dependent merely on sunglasses that were rapidly picking up a covering of dust. "After the bombshell that you delivered to the Grand Council, he appears concerned about what you will do next."
"I said nothing that was not obvious to anyone paying attention."
"And yet somehow the majority of the Khans had missed it. Perhaps it was less obvious than you believe."
Virgilia took off her glasses, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and then the glasses against her shirt before putting them back on. Somerset's sun was high and bright today. "Or more Clans need to elect Khans who pay attention."
Malthus' smile thinned. "Internal matters are a Clan's own concern, quaiff?"
"Aff. Yet the choice of Khans impacts the decisions of the Grand Council, so it cannot be entirely internal."
That got no immediate response and they watched in silence as more trucks arrived to be loaded.
"Rasalhague may play the role of an Inner Sphere capital for us," Malthus said at last.
"A world on the line between the Wolves and Ghost Bears, while the ilKhan's stockpiles are placed in the your hands and those of the Smoke Jaguars."
He made a face. "I will not say politics played no part but there is logic to dividing the supplies you have provided into more than one location."
Virgilia grinned. "Four locations would be better than two."
"In that case, you might as well grant them directly to the four invaders, which could offend the reserve Clans." Malthus lowered his voice. "I have suggested that the ilKhan activate Clan Steel Viper to provide security for these stockpiles. Leaving such large quantities of supplies on a world the Inner Sphere knows of is a risk and a large garrison would slow our advance."
"And you anticipate no problems between yourselves and the Vipers?"
"They are the first reserve Clan," he said, avoiding the issue of historically poor relations between the Falcons and the Vipers. Traditionally, Clan Star Adder had taken the Steel Viper's side but the Absorption War and broadly falling on different sides of the Warden/Crusader split had damaged those relations so Virgilia saw no reason to champion Natalie Breen or her Clan.
"Are the facilities here adequate to store the supplies?" she asked instead.
"Aff." The other Khan gestured southwards. "There was a military academy located here and it appears that they had warehouses suitable to use as a major logistics depot. Unfortunately, very little was currently stored there or we would have further damaged the spheroids defenses by taking this world."
"Doubly unfortunate, since a large supply store would have required more garrison than a handful of instructors and a few dozen cadets in obsolete 'Mechs."
"Not entirely obsolete," Malthus observed. "They had some of the Wolfhound battlemechs that Clan Wolf encountered in the periphery and a medium design that we know only from the reports of the Wolf Dragoons."
She gave him a questioning look. "Does this 'Mech have a designation?"
"Centurion," he pronounced carefully. "Unimpressive overall, but a benchmark for current production capabilities of the Inner Sphere. None of our warriors suffered more than armour damage."
"Perhaps the wrecks can at least be stripped of armour to replace the losses."
Malthus shook his head. "It will do in a pinch for repairs to our Hellbringers, but it is seriously inferior to that of our Kit Foxes and Summoners."
Virgilia nodded in understanding. The SLDF had used advanced ferro-fibrous armour plating on some of their 'Mechs, something the Clans had perfected. Not all used these technologies as the armour was bulky and somewhat more expensive than the older options, but the Jade Falcons' favoured OmniMechs were the Kit Fox, Summoner and Hellbringer.
She was actually far more familiar than the issue than Malthus probably realised: the Star Adders’ more recent designs avoided using ferro-fibrous plating specifically so that they could resupply from Inner Sphere sources when the invasion began. But many of their existing designs did use it and would be dependent on shipments from Sinclair. The Kit Fox was one of their own preferred light OmniMechs, in fact.
"There is something to be said for the light defenses here," she said lightly. "If there was more resistance than I might have been tempted to request the opportunity to participate and I hate to think what you would have asked for that."
"I would have said no," he responded promptly. "Perhaps Khan Crichell would have overruled me, but I doubt it. These victories belong to Clan Jade Falcon."
They had been solid victories, Virgilia conceded privately. But not as complete as she would have liked. The main defenders the Falcons had faced had been mercenaries: the Grave Walkers divided between Apollo and Bone-Norman (worlds that flanked Somerset) and three of the four regiments of the 12th Star Guards, on worlds directly along the Periphery. Elements of both forces had retreated with many casualties, but more critically, with data on the Jade Falcons.
The Star Adders had planned their attacks on the premise of ensuring as little information escaped them as possible, at least in the first wave, to give themselves some measure of surprise in the second wave of attacks. But with ComStar's assurance that they would not allow messages to be sent to the rest of the Federated Commonwealth, the Jade Falcons had apparently felt that what they had done was sufficient, allowing troops to escape.
The three Federated Commonwealth regular commands had received more respect and the forces on Anywhere and Here had been all but obliterated, but the last news from Barcelona was that the 17th Skye Rangers, a unit of high repute, had escaped with relatively light losses and their dropships had reached a jumpship in time.
"You may find them better prepared in future," she warned. "Survivors will carry word of you to worlds in the next wave."
"I hope so." Malthus gave her a confident smile. "Hearing how easily we swept them aside, they will be demoralised. Tales of our warmachines and skills will leave many units hesitant to face us in battle. If their armies are defeated in their minds, before the first shot is fired, then our victories will be faster and less expensive."
"That is a fair point," she admitted. "It is not my own preference but I can see merit in this strategy."
"You are so generous," he allowed sarcastically. "So, when you depart will you be seeking to play the gadfly among the Smoke Jaguars, as you have with us?"
Virgilia frowned, not at the question but because dust was getting at her eyes again. "I think not," she said, removing the glasses again. Should she ask to take the conversation elsewhere or would the Falcon take that as weakness? "It is tempting but if I kill too many of his warriors in Trials of Grievance then the ilKhan may feel I am impairing their progress."
Malthus threw back his head and laughed. "You do not doubt you would win?"
"There are one or two Smoke Jaguars who I consider credible opponents on even terms," the Star Adder explained reasonably. "Perhaps I should address this suggestion of Rasalhague. It is a very valuable world, I must admit. Dividing it between all fifteen Clans would be the cause for more conflict over particularly valuable territory."
"Well you have raised the idea, so you cannot argue against it."
She frowned up at the sun beaming down on them and quickly replaced her sunglasses again. "I can argue against its implementation. I did when it came to the invasion."
"Yes, you did." Malthus considered her for a moment and then gestured away from the dropship ramp.
At last! She cheerfully walked with him away from the source of the damnable dust. The smile fell off her face at the Jade Falcon's next words.
"I know Khan Irons is leading your touman in an invasion."
"Who is there around the Homeworlds to invade?" she asked, forcing herself to stay calm. She'd already given enough away when she stopped smiling.
Malthus gave her a wry look. "Not the Homeworlds. I admit that I do not know the specifics, but it is obvious to anyone who pays attention. You know that the invading Clans will control vast wealth once the invasion ends, even if it does so prematurely as you suggested."
Virgilia folded her arms. "And?"
"And as a responsible Khan, you do not wish to see your Clan relegated so significantly," the Falcon saKhan told her. "So you have found somewhere that your Clan can attack, seizing worlds somewhere to redress this. Most likely worlds that you will hide away, ensuring that in the worst case scenario that you suggested - the annihilation of the Clans - that Clan Star Adder has some final redoubt."
"If that were so," Virgilia told him slowly, "then it would be a secret I would defend at... any cost." Now I sound like Karianna.
Malthus shrugged. "Let us say that I am speculating. Merely theorising as to what some Clans might do if they take your suggestions seriously. What the Star Adders do somewhere in the Periphery is no business of Clan Jade Falcon. The Tanite worlds are ample precedent that you are in your rights to conquer other human colonies if you find them."
"Then what is your point?"
"My point," he said and paused, presumably for the drama. "That would be your enclaves in the Homeworlds. If Khan Irons and the best of your touman are elsewhere, then those enclaves are open to trials of possession from other Clans. Something that would severely hamper your efforts in... whatever it is that you are planning."
"I see no reason to share this with anyone else," he added before she could do anything impulsive. "And I am not so foolish as to believe that you can be threatened into doing anything unbefitting your position or loyalties. Mostly likely you would kill me if I made such a demand, although I assure you that if you do then my speculations will be shared with Khan Crichell."
"Then you must have some reason to tell me this."
"All I want from you is nothing," Malthus told her. "You've made a point of stirring up dissent and offering criticisms since the Invasion took place. What you do with other Clans is not my problem, but for the near future - until you feel that this... hypothetical period of vulnerability, shall we call it? Until it ends, that you will keep such activity to specific clans other than my own. Nothing affecting the entire invasion, nothing affecting Clan Jade Falcon. Is there really less that I can ask than nothing?"
"You present me with no dilemma," she said with mildness she didn't feel at all. "As it happens, once I leave the Jade Falcon's occupied worlds, I see no reason to return to your corridor for the immediate future, so whatever happens there is little chance that your Clan will hear from me over the next few months."
Malthus tipped his head. "Then we are both getting what we want, quiaff?"
"Aff. Nothing."
He grinned boyishly and Virgilia fixed that image in her mind. I will kill him, she decided. Sooner, rather than later.
S A S
Olympia, Tharkad
Donegal March, Lyran Commonwealth
13 March 3050
The summons to a briefing for senior officers had included the peculiarly Lyran note that officers of a suitable social background should be brought as aides. Kai was reminded of all too many tales he'd heard his parents' guests recite about the Lyran officer corps following the War of 3039, but he was a Leftenant and Kelly Devers was a Marshal. When a Marshal 'invites' a Leftenant to attend a meeting as her aide, it has the force of an order.
The room filled up steadily as staff-car after staff-car disgorged officers from the Tenth and Eleventh Lyran Guards RCTs. Even limited to the regiment-level leadership, that was still eighteen distinct regiments represented: a regimental combat team included not just the 'Mech regiment but also an armoured brigade and reinforced infantry brigade.
The troops were all eager to get out and stretch their legs after weeks on transports and the promise of weeks more to look forward to. A few days leave in a city only a few hundred miles south of the Tharkad City and well used to free-spending soldiers would do wonders for morale. Being crammed into this dimly lit room (windowless for security) instead was presumably one of those burdens of command that the academy had mentioned.
"When I was your age," Marshal Devers murmured, voice pitched not to carry far in the room, "I feared Combine samurai less than being stuck watching holo-slide presentations. Now I'm a Marshal and it's half my life."
Then the door opened and at the sight of the stern looking woman with grey-shot blonde hair that took the podium, every conversation cut off.
Nondi Steiner, the Archon's aunt and the second-ranking officer in the Armed Forces of the Federated Commonwealth hadn't aged gracefully. Some blamed her injuries during the War of 3039 for that. Others the humiliation that after she was sidelined by wounds from the assassination attempt on Vega that the offensive had collapsed.
"Ladies and gentlemen." There was enough frost in her icy soprano voice to chill the room back to the ambient temperature outside. "As of yesterday, the Commonwealth is at war. We simply do not know who with yet."
Kai felt frozen in place. War. Something he had never really known, but what his parents' generation - and most of the men and women here had grown up with. But how could you not know who you were at war with?
"Over the last seventy-two hours we have lost contact with worlds from Timbuktu to Steelton. Messages via ComStar are not being replied to. In some cases there was a little warning, in others we have heard nothing whatsoever."
Kai discreetly checked his noteputer. Steelton wasn't that far from the Free Rasalhague Republic, although it had no particular strategic importance. Timbuktu was... that couldn't be right. It was halfway across Lyran space, more than halfway along the border with the periphery.
"In a few cases troops stationed on those worlds have escaped," Steiner continued inexorably. "Some HPG reports of landings were made before we lost contact, and we have some hopes that other reports are simply still on the way. So far we have only a few facts to work with."
A holographic map of the Lyran Commonwealth sprang up in the air in front of her. "Firstly, almost every world targeted was once part of the Rim Worlds Republic."
Kai wasn't the only one who gasped. Green stars against the golden outline of the Federated Commonwealth's territory showed what were obviously the attacks. Twenty four worlds in an arc that covered almost four hundred light years of the border.
"Second, to the best of our ability to determine, neither the Free Worlds League nor the Draconis Combine is behind this."
Who else was there? Green was usually used to indicate Capellan movements but even if they had the forces for this without stripping their defenses bare (the last intelligence assessment Kai had been informed of was that his aunt could field perhaps thirty 'Mech regiments, including mercenaries), the targeted worlds couldn't be further from the Capellan Confederation.
"Finally, our defenses in the region have been crippled. While it seems unlikely that the forces deployed on every world have been defeated at this stage, at this time high command has no way to tell which are still fighting and which have been lost."
Marshal Devers raised her hand. "If I may enquire, which forces have reported in?"
"The majority of the Seventeenth Skye Rangers managed to escape to regroup on Newtown Square with the Thirty-Ninth Avalon Hussars." The Field Marshal used a pointer to indicate one of the border worlds that hadn't been highlighted as a target. "They were fortunate to have a jumpship waiting at a pirate point and managed to combat load more than two battalions of 'Mechs, along with the bulk of their dependents before they were overrun on Barcelona."
There was a pause as everyone waited for more to be listed. Nondi Steiner waited just long enough to make her point: that was all.
"Units unaccounted for include the Second New Ivaarsen Chasseurs, Sixth Crucis Lancers, Eighth and Eleventh Arcturan Guards RCTs, three other 'Mech regiments and nine regiments of mercenaries, the latter including the entirety of the Dismal Disinherited and Grave Walker units, and most of the Twelfth Star Guards."
"Mein... gott..." someone whispered near the back.
"This, obviously, leaves the frontier rather bare of defenses. March Militia commands -" Secondline units that primarily secured their defense zones against raids. "- have been alerted and remaining frontline commands will at least not be taken by surprise."
Devers looked at the map. "That's not a lot."
"Correct. Once the invaders - the only designation we have at the moment is 'Falcon', which may be more the heraldry of a unit rather than their nation - secure their current targets, we expect them to move on and exploit worlds that have only local defense forces available. A minority opinion in military intelligence believe that they will prioritise the four remaining commands in the area, but we have no reasonable way to determine when or if that will take place."
Nondi put some weight on the podium. "Your units were already on their way to the Periphery March, that is being expedited. In theory, you are to link up with the Seventh Crucis Lancers on Winter and provide Coventry Province with a mobile defense force until further reinforcements can arrive. More concrete plans will depend on gaining more information and if we don't have that by the time you get there, you can expect to be sent on reconnaissance-in-force to get that data."
Marshal Bryan of the Eleventh Guards rose to her feet. "Where is Marshal Steiner-Davis making his headquarters, ma'am?"
"Marshal Steiner-Davis was on Main Street when we lost contact. At this time Marshal Alpert of the Sixth Lyran Guards will be exercising command of the Periphery March. Althastan doesn't appear to be in the path of this invasion, at least as far as we can tell so far." Steiner speared Bryan with a firm look. "You will be reporting directly to Alpert as commander of your task force, with Marshal Devers and - if contact is made - Hauptmann-General Zibler of the Lancers as your principal subordinates."
"Have the Rangers been able to give any details about the attackers?" asked Kai.
Nondi glared at him and he cringed, realizing he'd spoken without thinking. Kelly Devers looked approving though. "I know there hasn't been time for detailed analysis, Marshal but it's a fair question. It at least gives us some idea what to prepare for."
The Field Marshal relaxed - slightly. "I suppose we bring aides to these meetings so they can learn," she allowed somewhat grudgingly. "The main information we have so far is that the 'Mechs that the Rangers saw were of the same kind the Kell Hounds encountered last year - unfamiliar designs with advanced technology, at least on part with the SLDF."
Something like Yen-lo-Wang, Kai realised. But that level of technology is almost unknown in deployment.
"We only have limited data to work for," Steiner continued. "But it isn't recommended that you should risk engagements except on favourable terms: with numbers and terrain in your favour. For now we assume they'll have both a range and mobility advantage, based on our studies on such upgrades for ourself."
"I take it that there's no chance of getting anything like that ourselves?" Bryan seemed less than amused at the idea of facing that sort of disadvantage.
To Kai's surprise, the Field Marshal changed the hologram to bring up schematics of several 'Mech weapons. "In limited quantities, yes. Refit kits for some of our equipment were being built up here for the Royal Guard to try. Your techs will have to play catch up in a hurry, but we're handing them over to your task force."
"It won't be enough to close the gap entirely," she continued. "New autocannon, extended range PPCs and lasers, missile guidance, advanced heatsinks - SLDF grade. What we don't have in any quantity are the lightweight structural frameworks and engines, and I don't want to arm you with systems you can't use in the field. You'll need to make some decisions quickly about what they're fitted to."
Another change of view. "What we recommend is keeping most of the missile and autocannon upgrades for your combat vehicles, then upgrade the energy weapons on 'Mechs which can benefit from the new heatsinks..."
Kai opened a new file on his noteputer and started recording the advice Nondi Steiner was giving them, adding his own thoughts based on Yen-lo-Wang.
S A S
Gette City, Lost
Star Adder Dominion
14 March 3050
The flags outside the capitol were different now - the serpent-on-star of their new rulers - but the beer hadn't changed at least.
Rationally, of course it hadn't. What was Helen thinking, that the invaders would rush around the city insisting on a new flavour of city? But the invasion had - after the fighting was over - made astonishingly little difference. It was all the more jarring when she did encounter a reminder, like the work crews dragging what was left of one of the Dismal Disinherited's Commandos off to be salvaged.
The building the 'Mech chassis was being hoisted out of had taken more damage than the warmachine - there was enough left of the Commando that it was identifiable, while the office building was a burned out wreck without even a sign left outside of who had worked there. Fortunately, it had probably been empty.
But the crews clearing it were for the most part city workers, using the same heavy equipment they would have for any industrial accident. A couple of the invaders were overseeing it, wearing those armoured suits of theirs, but they might as well have been wearing high-visibility vests and carrying clipboards for all the hostility they showed.
Helen sipped on the beer again. Hopefully Mr de Silva would open the store again soon. Two scares in recent months had led to him closing the shop temporarily and retreating to his sister's house on the edge of Gette City. If he didn't come back and open up, she wouldn't get paid and she didn't have the savings to live without work for long.
In theory she could sign up for unemployment relief, but how that would work now...
At least it wasn't the Dracs, she thought. As improbable as the Draconis Combine reaching Lost was, she'd heard stories about what life had been like on worlds they occupied during the Succession Wars. Ugly stories - and not barracks rumour, official instruction as part of her militia training.
Unemployment didn't happen on some of those worlds, at least officially. If you couldn't find work, work would be found for you. But not in jobs that anyone would want. If you were lucky, sweatshop conditions that would probably kill you. If you were unlucky... being young and female for example...
Helen shuddered and finished her beer. Well, no sign of that... so far, at least.
The door to the pub pushed open, the archaic bell hung from it tinkling. She looked up and was startled to see a short man in black leathers enter. His face was marked by black tattoos and seemed out of proportion to the rest of him - looking like he needed another growth spurt to fill out to an adult's height.
Eyes around the bar narrowed and Helen saw Jose step along the bar to where he kept a baseball bat. The barman was the owner's brother and had put thirty years into the metropolitan police before retiring to a more sedentary occupation. He knew trouble when he saw it.
The new arrival glanced around the room casually, before entering with two more men behind him - one significantly taller, although on second glance he was only about Helen's height. It was just his companions that made him look tall.
They wore the same black leathers and they had the same tattoos.
Shit, Helen thought. A gang.
It wasn't the first time gangs had tried to move into the area. Bikers bringing narcotics in from the countryside was pretty much a way of life in the tenement districts, where people retreating in from smaller towns and villages more vulnerable during a pirate raid tended to settle. The Descott district of Gette City was a little upmarket of that, but not much.
The three of them were only halfway towards the bar when Franco stepped in their way. "Hey," the burly man told them bluntly. "We don't want your lot here."
The largest of the new arrivals brindled but the leader swung his hand back and slapped him lightly on the chest. "Save it," he added and then looked for Franco. "We are here for some drinks, unwind a little. Nothing else."
"Ya. That's how it starts." Franco pointedly started rolling up his sleeves, revealing muscular forearms marked with the occasional scar from work accidents and sometimes the result of violence. "Then you are selling. Drugs. Protection."
From where she was sat, Helen saw all three of the ganger's eyes change. There was nothing subtle about it, it was like a mask being stripped away. One moment they were relaxed, the next they were predators.
"If you have a grievance," the leader said, voice lower and more clipped, "Then let us step outside and avoid damaging this establishment as we settle matters."
"Three on one, huh," snorted Franco.
Helen pushed herself upright. She didn't know this gang, but she knew Franco. "Not one." She pointed with her free hand at the third man, seeing his jacket ride up. "He has a knife."
He reached back and tapped the leather scabbard, clearly comfortable with it. "Sharp eyes." He looked Helen up and down, measuringly. "You look like a tough lady," he added in an admiring voice. "How about I buy you a drink too. We can get to know each other."
She felt her face redden. "Get ******!"
He blinked. "Oskar, was that a yes or a no?"
A moment later, Helen's glass hit the man in his face and he in turn hit the ground, face bleeding but already rolling with the impact, getting ready to get up.
"Ernest!" shouted the larger man, as Franco swung at the leader - Oskar. The punch swept above the little man's head as he ducked and then went to work on Franco's ribs.
Jose swept out from behind the bar, bat in hand and the other patrons either headed for the back door, rose to join in or just ducked for cover.
Two men Helen barely knew tackled Ernest as he kipped up, apparently eager to fight. She saw Franco fall, gasping, and she flung herself at the little man standing over the delivery man before he could bring out a weapon.
They crashed to the carpeted floor, her on top but he was wriggling like a snake and then something crashed up under her ribs.
Dammit, she thought, finding herself on her back and gasping for breath. What I wouldn't give for a combat vest. When she did training for this in the militia, most of the time they'd been wearing full kit.
There was a crash of glass and she levered herself upright. A stool had smashed into the front window and was comically suspended there, part of the pane having remained intact and caught the seat before the stool could go completely through.
Holovids had apparently lied to her.
The larger man had deprived Jose of his bat and was holding him face down on the bar, twisting one arm behind the former policeman's back.
Gathering her legs beneath her, Helen sprang on his own back, locking one arm around his throat and dragging his head back as she pressed against the soft flesh below the jaw.
Choking, he released Jose and spun, dizzying Helen for a moment, and then slamming back against the bar. By intent or calculation, the edge of the bar hit above her hips and below her ribs, sharp pain slackening her grip.
Then the back of his head hit her nose and she felt it snap.
Stars filled her vision and she settled on the floor, leaning against the bottom of the bar as the man stepped away.
Franco was on his knees, but trying to stand. What was in his path was Ernest, one hand twisting the bigger man's arm in a submission hold, one booted foot on Franco's calf.
For a moment the third ganger looked likely to join in but then he had to dodge away as another patron went after him, swinging a barstool.
It seemed to take an eternity for Helen to get to her feet and she stumbled once getting to Ernest. He looked back but not before she managed to snatch the knife from the scabbard at his side.
Ernest's eyes were fixed on her and he pushed Franco away, the delivery man's face hitting the carpet with a thump. She saw blood running down the ganger's face and the lines on his face... weren't tattoos. Some sort of... wiring, implanted into his face. Who did such a thing to themselves.
"So, get ****** means neg?" he asked, shifting his stance. "The glass was unnecessary."
Helen waved the knife at him. "You came here looking for a fight."
"No."
"Technically, yes." A sinewy hand grabbed Helen by the wrist and the leader snatched the knife off her with the other before she could react. "The planet, that is. Today all we wanted was some drinks."
"And maybe..."
Oskar turned and slammed the knife, point first, into the bar. It dug at least three centimetres into the wood. "Ernest."
The other man raised his hands. "Only if she said aff!" he protested. "She is so spirited. If someone taught her to fight, she would be dangerous."
This was apparently a good thing in their eyes?
The third man staggered over, beaming despite a cut on his own forehead bleeding profusely. "That was fun but I believe we have upset local police-warriors. I hear sirens. This the sort of trouble the Star Colonel wanted us to avoid, quiaff?"
"Neg." Oskar pointed up at the security camera in one corner. "This one attacked us, we acted in self-defense. I should call it in to make sure they listen though." He pulled a comm from his pocket.
Helen thought back. Dammit, they would have her bang to rights. And if she wound up behind bars, Mr De Silva would probably fire her. "Who are you?"
Ernest's face creased again, this time in a smile. "I am Ernest, this is Sam, the old man is Oskar. We are warriors of Clan Star Adder."
Her legs could somehow not support her anymore. Either the adrenaline had worn off, or it was finding out she had picked a fight with the new rulers of Lost.
Oskar fished a plaited cord from his pocket. "Put this on her, Sam."
The taller man caught it and gave Helen a look before turning back to his leader. "You are sure?"
"Ernest is right, she is spirited. The sort of person resistance rallies around. The type we want, quiaff?"
"Aff." Sam grabbed Helen's wrist. When he released it, she saw that the cord was tied around it.
"What does this mean?"
Ernest dropped to his haunches, to put his face on level with hers. "Welcome to Clan Star Adder, bondswoman. Congratulations."
"C-congratulations?"
"She does not know what a bondsman is," Oskar said with a sigh. "Explain it while I talk their police-warriors down."
Sam picked up a paper napkin from the dispenser on the bar and wiped at the blood on his face. "With three cords you are a prisoner," he told her. "As you show your skill and loyalty, each cord is cut and will be trusted with more responsibility and opportunity. When all three are cut, you will be a member of our Clan. Perhaps even one of our warriors."
Helen sat down heavily. This was not how she had envisaged her day ending: the bar full of groaning and injured patrons, the police on the way and herself... somewhere between being a slave and being inducted into a cult.
