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  The Archer cockpit's metal shell was dented and distorted but appeared unbroken. Minobu could vaguely see a moving shape within. The warrior lived! Carefully, he began to peel the shard of armor locking the access hatch in place.

  Minobu had snatched this man from death, literally taking the ‘MechWarrior's life into his own hands. If not for Minobu's actions, the warrior would be dead, his future blown to the winds with his atoms. From now on, the karma the man earned, good or bad, was also Minobu's karma. The man's words, his deeds, even his life were now Minobu's responsiblity. Bushido demanded it.

  The hatch was cleared. It opened with a groan of protesting metal, and the ‘MechWarrior's neurohelmet appeared. Moving slowly, he emerged, battered and with his left arm hanging limp at his side.

  “Looks like I owe you one,” the pilot said, using his good hand to force his neurohelmet free from his head. Finally, Minobu could see the other warrior's face. The man he had saved was Colonel Jaime Wolf.

  BATTLETECH

  08612

  WOLVES ON THE BORDER

  Robert N. Charrette

  ROC

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Books USA Inc., 375 Hudson Street,

  New York, New York 10014, U.S.A.

  Penguin Books Ltd, 27 Wrights Lane,

  London W8 5TZ, England

  Penguin Books Australia Ltd, Ringwood,

  Victoria, Australia

  Penguin Books Canada Ltd, 10 Alcorn Avenue, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4V 3B2 Penguin Books (N.Z.) Ltd, 182-190 Wairau Road, Auckland 10, New Zealand

  Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: Harmondsworth, Middlesex, England

  Published by Roc, an imprint of Dutton Signet, a division of Penguin Books USA Inc. Previously appeared in a FASA edition.

  First Roc Printing, May, 1996 10 987654321

  Copyright © FASA Corporation, 1988 All rights reserved

  Series Editor: Donna Ippolito Cover: Peter Peebles

  REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA

  BATTLETECH, FASA, and the distinctive BATTLETECH and FASA logos are trademarks of the FASA Corporation, 1100 W. Cermak, Suite B305, Chicago, IL 60608.

  Printed in the United States of America

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, ‘Mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

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  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  To my parents, without whom I would not be what I am, and to ERJ and RW, without whom this book would not be what it is.

  Cast of Characters

  Jaime Wolf

  Founder and mysterious commander of Wolf's Dragoons mercenary unit

  Minobu Tetsuhara

  Samurai sworn to the service of House Kurita, original Combine liaison to Wolf's Dragoons, later founder of Ryuken regiments

  Grieg Samsonov

  Warlord of Galedon Military District of the Draconis Combine, answerable only to Takashi Kurita

  Jerry Akuma

  Aide to Warlord Grieg Samsonov; later Draconis liaison officer to Wolf's Dragoons

  Natasha Kerensky

  Feared commander of the Black Widows, one of the independent units of Wolf's Dragoons

  Hanse Davion

  Prince of the Federated Suns

  Takashi Kurita

  Coordinator of the Draconis Combine

  Subhash Indrahar

  Chief of the Internal Security Forces (ISF), the Kurita secret service

  Quintus Allard

  Chief of the Ministry of Intelligence Investigations and Operations (MHO), the Davion secret service

  Michael Hasek-Davion

  Duke of the Federated Suns' Capellan March; brother-in-law and arch-rival to Hanse Davion

  Michi Noketsuna

  Aide-de-camp to Minobu Tetsuhara, original Combine liaison officer to Wolf's Dragoons

  Hamilton Atwyl

  Commander of Blue Flight, a unit of Wolf's Dragoons OrbitalIAeroSpace Operations Group

  Jason Carmody

  Commander of Wolf's Dragoons OrbitalIAeroSpace Operations Group

  Dechan Fraser

  MechWarrior promoted to command Fraser's Company of Wolf's Dragoons Alpha Regiment, Able Battalion

  Kenneth Quo

  Commander of Hephaestus Station, Wolf's Dragoons' orbital space station

  Anton Shadd

  Commander of Seventh Kommando, Wolf's Dragoons Special Services unit

  Fadre Singh

  Former Dragoon ‘MechWarrior, later a defector to the Draconis Combine

  Prologue

  Franchelco Province, Dromini VI

  Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine

  14 September 3021

  The sounds of battle had ceased—along with all communications with Tercian's Company. Tai-i Minobu Tetsuhara could still see smoke rising from beyond the ridge. That oily smudge meant burning vehicles, and burning vehicles meant trouble for the counterattack by the Dromini Ducal Armored Hussars.

  Tetsuhara's Recon Company had been ordered to support Tercian's unit after reports had come in that BattleMechs belonging to the invading Steiner mercenaries were in the area. If the enemy were about to make a major thrust, the forces of the Draconis Combine were in trouble. It would take more than Minobu's twelve 'Mechs to blunt any serious push.

  With the rocky outcropping blocking his sensors as well as his sight, the only way for Minobu to learn what had happened was to go and see. Ordering a 'Mech lance to maneuver wide on each flank to block either end of the valley, he led his Command Lance in a straight line over the ridge.

  The lance's three 35-ton PNT-9R Panthers moved with a grace that belied their size. From a distance, a casual observer might mistake a Panther 'Mech for an armored man at a run, but any resemblance to Humans would be shattered as soon as it passed a tree or building. Like all 'Mechs, it stood as tall as a three-story house.

  The fourth machine of the lance was an OTT-7J Ostscout. Though it too strode forward on two legs, no one was likely to mistake the 'Mech for a man at any distance. Its long legs connected to a squat, egg-shaped torso and twin antennae poked from behind the small dome of the cockpit. Its arms were sensor arrays, skinny, tapered housings that waved and circled as the 'Mech advanced, gathering data for the machine's specialized scouting computer.

  As the ground began to rise toward the ridge, Minobu had to slow down over the rough terrain. Just short of the ridge crest, he stopped and signaled the rest of the lance to do the same. He crawled his machine toward the edge, being careful to keep the Panther's right-arm particle projector cannon clear of debris. Selecting the visible light spectrum for the first feed, he raised the 'Mech's head to let the scanners fill his cockpit screen with data.

  What he saw in the valley below was a scene of carnage, scattered over with the smoking hulks of the light hovercraft of Tercian's Company. Minobu counted all nine of the vehicles he knew the company was operating. Half a kilometer beyond the nearest wreck stood a single enemy BattleMech.

  Minobu identified it as an Archer, a seventy-ton machine. The 'Mech's bold
blue and gold paint scheme was marred by scorch marks, and large portions were too blackened to reveal any identifiable unit or rank markings. The Archer's armor was torn and breached in places and one arm hung limply, half-ripped from the moorings beneath the massive missile launcher on the 'Mech's shoulder. The giant machine had certainly paid for its victory.

  Tactical doctrine usually called for Archers to serve as heavy fire-support vehicles, but this one seemed to have been operating alone. Minobu wondered it its pilot had been out hunting other 'Mechs and the glory of a combat duel.

  The Hussars had caught the Archer here in the open plain of the valley, where they could operate to best advantage. They had no doubt expected an easy kill. The ‘Mech Warrior must have surprised them, proving too much for the tanks, even though he was badly outnumbered. Such a warrior would be a redoubtable opponent.

  “Skirmish wedge,” Minobu ordered as he took his Panther over the top and headed down into the valley at speed. Well-drilled ‘MechWarriors, his men in their Panthers closed up the flanks and followed him. Safe in the slot of the wedge, the poorly armed Ostscout followed behind, watching out for danger to its advancing fellows. The 'Mech was too valuable to risk in actual combat.

  Minobu was 200 meters ahead of his lancemates when he came onto the smoother floor of the valley. Though his target was well within the theoretical range of his Lord's Light PPC, he knew the targeting system's limitations too well. It was an irony of thirty-first century warfare that incredibly powerful weapons were used at ranges that warriors of a millennium ago would have considered ludicrously short. Targeting circuitry was among the technologies lost to almost three hundred years of warfare among the five Great Houses of the Successor States.

  Ahead of him, Minobu could see the Archer stir. It began to turn toward him, then it slumped. Well within range for accurate fire, the Combine 'Mechs moved closer, but the Archer did not react.

  “Gibbs, scan report,” Minobu ordered over the taccomm. “Is it a trick?”

  “I don't think so, Tai-i,” the Ostscout pilot replied. “I think he just shut down.” Gibbs sounded surprised. Certainly, Minobu was. He called up an infrared scan on his screen. The enemy 'Mech glowed with waste heat.

  Minobu slowed his own 'Mech and ordered the lance to halt.

  “Damn your fool code to the Buddhist hells!” ‘Mech-Warrior Jerry Akuma's voice snarled across the comm frequency. “He's easy meat, Tai-i.”

  “Pass my position or fire, Akuma, and it will be you who is meat,” Minobu snapped. He had half-expected such an outburst from his lance second, but was disappointed to get it.

  Inside his cockpit, transmitter off, Akuma cursed. The icy calm of Minobu's voice made his threat all too real for the charging ‘MechWarrior. The Tai-i's sense of honor had been touched by this battered hulk and its pilot. Akuma withdrew his finger from the firing stud and brought his 'Mech to a halt. “That is a teki, Tai-i. An enemy to whom we must show no mercy. It's a heavy BattleMech, which, in its weakness, we can destroy for no cost.”

  “No cost? You dishonor your ancestors. That pilot is a warrior, but his 'Mech will not respond to his commands. Bushido demands that we allow him his weakness now so that he can fight and die as a warrior at a later time. We will leave this valley now.”

  “Leave?” Akuma's voice rose higher. “You're turning your back on an enemy. You are ...”

  “Are you questioning my command, ‘MechWarrior Akuma?” Minobu cut in.

  Akuma knew the others in the lance were listening carefully over taccomm. All knew that to defy a commander's orders meant death. The lickspittle milksops he had for lancemates would back Tetsuhara, even in the face of his own more practical advice. Seeing the hatch over Kemsai's missile launcher already open, Akuma decided that capitulation did not mean defeat.

  “No, Tai-i Tetsuhara. I do not question your command. I die at your command.” The formal phrases came out smoothly. Akuma switched off his transmitter. “Your authority, no. Your sanity, yes. Your precious bushido code was dead before man left old Terra. It has no place here. This is real life, and we are at war.

  “I shall remember this. You have shamed me once too often.”

  Minobu watched Akuma's Panther for any further reactions. He had long known of the ignorant Akuma's low opinion of the code, and had expected complaints and derision once the battle was over. He had not expected Akuma to come so close to disobeying an order, even though that order had its basis in the code. Still, the ‘MechWarrior had finally bowed to Minobu's authority. The crisis point was passed, and Akuma's blood would cool.

  Turning his 'Mech back toward the Archer, Minobu keyed on his external speakers. The enemy 'Mech's pilot had popped his hatch and was standing on the seat, visible from the waist up. A bulky neurohelmet hid his features.

  “Warrior,” Minobu said. “I, Minobu Tetsuhara, Tai-i in command of Reconnaissance Company Gold of the Second Sword of Light Regiment, samurai of House Kurita, and soldier of the Draconis Combine, honor your prowess and your courage. We shall not kill you now. Return to your forces, if you can. Die in battle as a true warrior.”

  With that, Minobu turned and led his lance from the valley.

  BOOK I

  Honor

  1

  Tetsuhara Family Estate, Awano

  Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine

  9 March 3023

  Light from Awano's sun sparkled off the metal, dazzling his vision. Minobu squinted, but the glare still brought tears to his eyes and blurred his sight. He could not allow this to distract him because precision was of utmost importance now. If he missed his mark, it would be disaster. He waited. His vision cleared only minimally, but he was calm. The time had come. Between the beats of his heart, his hand descended. It was steady. “Brother!”

  The unexpected shout from the glade near the house broke his concentration. Minobu bit his lip as the paintbrush slid over the surface of the vase, marring hours of patient work and spattering gold flecks on the dark skin of his hand. He had not achieved muga today. Again. Not since the disastrous fighting on Dromini VI had he been able to truly reach the state of “mind and deed as one.”

  Once House Steiner had sprung its trap and unleashed its Regulars to join the mercenary Wolf's Dragoons, they had devastated the Draconis Combine forces attempting the relief of Dromini. The Combine troops had held the planet, but at the cost of severe casualities among the Combine troops. A month after the debacle, Minobu had been relieved of his command and stripped of his BattleMech. Those orders had come without explanation and from the highest source, the Coordinator's office. They were signed by the Coordinator himself, Takashi Kurita, ruler of the Draconis Combine. A promotion had accompanied the new orders, but Minobu still felt shamed, haunted by the thought that he had betrayed the ideal, that he had not lived up to the code of bushido. It was this worry and concern that barred him from muga.

  Before Dromini, so small a thing as a shout would never have affected his brush stroke. He put the vase down. It was ruined on the surface, yet it might still serve, as would he. Decoration aside, the vase was still what it was, sturdy and strong. As he must be.

  “Brother!” Minobu was still tidying his work area when Fuhito, panting from his run through the thin air of the plateau, burst into the room. The grin that split his face told Minobu that this interruption was, at least, because of good news.

  “Your haste is unseemly in a samurai, little brother. Sit down and compose yourself.” Fuhito did as he was bid, taking several moments to control his breathing and assume a calm demeanor. Minobu sat motionless, his face betraying none of his desire to hear whatever news had sent his brother rushing across the estate toward him. In control of himself at last, Fuhito bowed to Minobu.

  “Elder brother, I have received a letter from the Bureau of Administration. In two weeks, I am to leave to begin my service as a ‘Mech Warrior.” Fuhito's grin broke loose from his control, his joy too great to be contained. He searched his brother's face for
approval, but his smile faltered when that approval was not immediately apparent. “I'm a fool, elder brother. Forgive me. In my pleasure at having a chance to prove myself, I've touched your own pain. You should be the one to receive the call to service.”

  Looking down, Minobu's gaze fell on the ruined vase. He was distressed that his control was so poor that even his unsubtle little brother could see his inner turmoil. The long months of isolation here on Awano were taking a toll that increased daily. He seemed unable to regain the calm that he had always known as a ‘Mech Warrior. He willed the muscles of his face to relax. “My personal feelings are of no matter, though I am pleased you have this chance to prosper, my brother. You shall bring honor to our family. Katana Kat is your 'Mech now.”

  Fuhito rose abruptly. “No. I won't go. It should be you piloting the Panther. I shall insist on it.” He headed for the doorway, but jerked to a halt when Minobu called after him.

  “Now you are being a fool. The 'Mech has been registered in your name for over a year. You have shown no reluctance to pilot it during your training sessions with me, and your progress has been duly recorded. Refusal at this point would only embarrass the family.”

  “But I thought you would be getting the 'Mech back eventually. This whole thing is unfair. You are a great warrior, maybe even the best in the family since old Jackson Hayes forsook his African heritage and took the name Tetsuhara. I shouldn't have gotten Katana Kat while you could still pilot it. You should be in the cockpit. You're not old, or crippled, or ... or ...”