Fresno, Gaffin Continent,
Avon, Pesht Military District,
Draconis Combine,
13th December, 3051
Descartin stared out of his cockpit at the devastation in front of the Timber Wolf. Broken mechs were strewn across the landscape like shattered dolls, crushed by the massed firepower of the gathered Nova Cats and Smoke Jaguars. An eerie silence laid on the battlefield, a far cry from the thunderous massacre just a few minutes ago. The ground ran red with blood, the bodies of dead infantrymen scattered all over the ground.
After the abortive ambush in the Tenderlands, the 2nd Amphigean LAG had managed to break away with less than two companies of mechs, while the Nova Cats had lost almost two stars of mechs.
Then it had been a long and tiring chase to the east, as the Draconis mechs tried to resupply from a hidden cache, only to find that there were already elementals guarding the much needed material.
They were able to escape the elementals, and the chase continued to Fresno, where the battalion rejoined the rest of their unit. However, with the deaths of their regimental command staff due to a Smoke Jaguar headhunter unit, the 2nd never had a chance to recover as the clan forces descended on them with overwhelming firepower.
Serves them right for opposing us, Descartin muttered to himself. Our way is just. We seek to reform the Star League, the crowning achievement of humanity. Why can they not understand that? So much blood and technology, wasted for nothing.
There were few prisoners from the 2nd LAG, and even the two infantry regiments that had accompanied the mech unit were almost killed to the last man. The Smoke Jaguars had been particularly vindictive in the slaughter, killing even those who had thrown down their arms to surrender. Descartin had agreed with Star Captain Hanna to lodge a complaint with the Star Colonel about such wasteful actions.
It certainly was not remorse. Clansmen do not feel remorse, nor do they view death the same way as most people did. It was this lack of emotion that had enabled them to achieve what they considered to be the pinnacle of human combat ability.
Avon was theirs, and Luthien was sure to follow. Descartin had been thrilled by his first taste of real combat, and he was eager for more.
His headset crackled. “Star Captain, Star Colonel Nostra wants to speak to you. Return to base immediately.” A commtech informed him.
“Aff. I will be leading my binary back. Inform the techs to prepare for extensive repairs. My mechs are all heavily damaged.” The Smoke Jaguars would hold this portion of the planet, and Descartin had no intention of staying near them any longer than necessary.
He switched over the special frequency for cross-clan communications. “Star Captain Jillian Osis,” Descartin made sure to be respectful in his tone, “I have been recalled back to my base. Is it acceptable for you to handle matters here on your own?”
A haughty female replied, “Aff, it is. As per the terms set out before the Trial of Possession, all bondsmen captured on our territory are ours. Not that there are many of them left anyway.” She laughed. “Now go away cub, and return to your litter.”
Descartin bit back a sharp retort. There was nothing to be gained by antagonizing the Jaguars right back, not when the two clans still had to cooperate to conquer Luthien.
He moved his limping Timber Wolf away from the bloody field.
“Tell me what is the meaning of this!” Star Colonel Thadeus Nostra shouted as he threw down a stack of reports on the desk. “Six mechs destroyed, three pilots down, three dead, and all you can say is that you could not help it?” Spittle flew from his mouth onto Descartin’s uniform, but the Star Captain tried to ignore it.
Descartin stood rigidly at attention, not daring to move an inch. He did not even try to refute the Star Colonel’s words, instead choosing to wait out the tirade. His eyes were firmly fixed on the empty space above his commanding officer’s head, while his face was completely devoid of expression.
Nostra continued his rant. “If this is what lies in store for us for the rest of the campaign, then I might think we are better off staying in the homeworlds. I had such high hopes for you, Star Captain. I thought you would prove to be worthy of the responsibility of leading warriors of the clan into battle, and instead I get my troops decimated.” He paused, as though trying to regain his breath.
Descartin winced as he took the opportunity to speak. “Sir, the freebirths are not stupid. We should have realized that they would try to split up our forces, then proceed to destroy us in detail. Most importantly, we did win in the end.”
Nostra stared hard at him. “That is an extremely specious argument you have there.”
Descartin sighed. “Sir, I know I fouled up when I failed to realize that the enemy mechs were going to concentrate on the 274th, but at the same time, it could have been my binary that was ambushed. There was simply no way for me to know in advance, not with the mechs I had.”
“You fouled up all right.” Nostra agreed. “The worst part of it is that I cannot get rid of you even if I want to. Right now, we need every mech for Operation Dragonslayer, and we are already short of warriors and mechs as it is.” He walked around his desk to stand before Descartin.
“This is your first battle, so I will give you some space.” He leaned in close, his eyes boring into Descartin, his face a mask full of anger and threat. “Foul up a second time, and I will get rid of you.”
Descartin gulped inwardly. “Yes Sir!”
“Before I dismiss, there is one more thing.” Thadeus stepped away and half sat on his desk. “Star Commander Jeff’s death meant that your trinary is now short of one officer. I have several warriors in mind to take over command of Bravo Star, but I would like to hear your own recommendations first.” He folded his arms.
Having prepared for this very question while listening to Thadeus’ ranting, Descartin replied without hesitation. “I feel Warrior Deserk should be brevetted to Star Commander.”
“And is that your mind talking or your unbiased personal opinion?” Thadeus asked snidely.
Descartin refused to be cowed. “Deserk performed well when I was briefly incapacitated in the battle,” he suppressed a shudder as he remembered the duel with the Atlas, “he took temporary command of the unit and held them long enough for me to return to the fray.”
“And that one action alone recommends him for promotion, however briefly?”
There was a nod of Descartin’s head. “I believe so.”
“As it happens,” Nostra’s tone was almost pure acid. “Warrior Deserk’s name is on my shortlist, along with Warrior Lori, and Warrior Tenny. Since Lori is recuperating from her injuries, the choice comes down to Tenny and Deserk.”
“Sir, Tenny is good, and he does have more experience…” Descartin trailed off.
“But?”
“He does not command the respect of the rest of the trinary. While Deserk is able to command their respect after only a few months. What does that tell you?”
“It only tells me that Deserk is more sociable than Tenny. It says nothing of his ability to command effectively.”
Descartin tried another tack. “I looked through their intellectual test scores in their sibkos. Deserk has the better results.”
Thadeus Nostra sighed in resignation. “It seems you are intent on getting Deserk to be your Bravo Star commander, quiaff?”
“Aff.” Descartin admitted. “Sir, it goes beyond test scores. The fact that we came from the same sibko means that we can work better together. I think that will be even more apparent if he is one of my Star Commanders.”
There was a long moment of silence before Thadeus shot one final death stare at Descartin. “Very well, I shall accept your recommendation, for now. Remember though, that if you or Star Commander Deserk foul up, I will bust both of you so hard that you will be wishing that you had never been warriors. Is that clear?”
Descartin saluted smartly. “Aff, Star Colonel!” He needed to get back to his bondsman.
“How is the bondsman?” Deserk asked the doctor as they stood in the hospital room. Yoshino Ihara laid on the bed, still unconscious since the battle at the Tenderlands. Tubes ran over his body, while bandages swathed his torso and head.
“He’s out of danger, and he should be awake soon.” The civilian doctor said, trying not to notice Deserk’s frown at his use of a contraction in his speech. “Just a concussion, nothing more. He’s lucky he did not break anything when his ejection seat hit the ground.”
“Do not use contractions, scientist,” Deserk growled, “They are a sign of impurity, a corruption of Star League English.”
“Uh, okay.” The doctor shuffled his feet uneasily. “Anyway, I must be off to see my other patients.” He hurried away, as though afraid of Deserk.
Deserk grinned as he dropped his façade of the grim clansman. It seemed that the freebirths were very wary of setting off the warrior clans that had suddenly invaded their world. He guessed that the actions of the Smoke Jaguars earlier in the invasion had instilled a very healthy respect for the clans. Wiping an entire city off the map with orbital bombardment would tend to do that to anybody.
He looked at the three cords wound around the unconscious warrior’s wrist, and wondered why Descartin had been so eager to claim this particular warrior as his bondsman.
Truth be told, this Yoshino(he would not grant this freebirth the honor of a bloodname) had proved his worth by defeating two omnimechs, even if his first kill came in an ambush against a Kit Fox. His assist against Jeff’s Warhawk and his second ‘kill’ against Lori’s Stormcrow were a great deal more impressive, though Deserk supposed that the earlier damage Lori’s mech had taken in the battle made it easier for his Atlas to win out in the end.
The mechwarrior had been badly injured when a MASH unit had arrived on the scene of the battle. He had been rushed to this hospital, though the doctors had later said that his injuries were not that serious.
The sound of strong footsteps from the hallway spoke of an approaching visitor. Deserk looked out of the room to see Descartin walk up.
“How is my bondsman?” Descartin asked without any preamble. Deserk did not mind, since he was used to Descartin’s straight to the point manner after all the years in the sibko.
“The doctor said that he suffered a concussion, but nothing was broken. He should be awake soon.” Deserk continued, “I also did as you asked, and checked the records we have captured in the planetary databases about this warrior’s past. Quite impressive, I must admit.”
“How so?” Descartin asked as he walked to the only window in the room, and stared out at the city they had captured, gleaming in the noonday sun.
“Graduated in the top 5% of his class at the Draconis Combine’s Sun Zhang Academy. Granted, their training is nowhere near ours, but he shows potential.”
Descartin grunted. “Hmph, of course he has potential. A poor excuse for a warrior would not be able to defeat two of our mechs. In fact, our clan is trying to recover as many bondsmen from the 2nd Amphigean LAG as possible, since we already know that the Jaguars would not be raising them to warriors. Stupid decision on their part, since these warriors have proved their courage and worth in battle.”
“But there are not many of them left, quiaff?”
“Aff. I have lodged a complaint with the Star Colonel with the Jaguars’ tactics, but it is likely that nothing would result of it. The Khans seem adamant that our present state of cooperation stays intact until we have the chance to take Terra.”
Deserk nodded, then he noticed a slight movement by the person on the bed. A bandaged hand twitched, and the eyes on the Asian face opened.
“Ah,” Deserk said, “the bondsman awakes.”
Descartin turned around to stare into two gleaming chips of utter hatred. Yoshino stared as though his eyes had lasers which could impale the clan mechwarrior, fueled by the rage in his soul, expressed through his face.
The target of his hated smirked slightly. He strode over beside the bed, and pulled a chair up to sit down. Deserk wondered why Yoshino had chosen Descartin and not himself as a focus for his anger. Maybe the glittering insignia of higher rank in the form of a red sunburst on a blue circle on Descartin’s jumpsuit signified his higher position, and thus more worthy of attention.
“I am Star Captain Descartin of Clan Nova Cat. I have defeated you in combat, as by clan law, you are now my property.” Descartin paused for a while, while Yoshino hissed savagely. One arm swathed in gauze tried to swat at Descartin, but he caught Yoshino’s wrist easily in his right arm.
Deserk saw Descartin squeeze hard with his hand, the muscles on his arms tensing, but Yoshino’s face did not show any pain. Descartin continued to speak.
“You have fought well for a freebirth, and I shall honor you by allowing you to serve the mighty Nova Cats. If you prove your worth to me, you might even be a warrior again.”
Yoshino, unable to retaliate physically, spat at Descartin, who managed to bring up his other hand up to block in time. The Draconis warrior spoke.
“Baka! I know what you seek to do! You would think that offering me a mech would convince me to betray the Dragon! You think too little of me! I will never fight for you, so you might as well kill me now!” Yoshino clenched his fist as he struggled with Descartin’s grip.
Deserk began to think that perhaps taking this warrior as a bondsman might not be a good idea, and if most of the warriors they had captured had the same attitude, they might as well shoot all of them dead before they could create more trouble. What was it about the Draconis Combine that could inspire such fanatical loyalty on par with the irrational Blood Spirits?
Meanwhile, Descartin was shaking his head while still holding onto Yoshino. “It is an honor to fight for the clan. We have proven ourselves to be the stronger, and so you must submit to us. Might is right, and our victories have shown that we are right.”
Yoshino stared at Descartin for long moments.
Then he laughed.
Yoshino Ihara continued laughing madly at the clanners’ backs as they left his room after trying to explain, quite unsuccessfully, exactly what they were going to do to him.
He had been shocked that they had not placed him in a POW hospital, and even more shocked when they had suggested that he might fight for them. They had an extremely skewed view of the world, and Yoshino had not the slightest idea where they had gotten their ideas from. Expecting a loyal samurai of the Draconis Combine to serve his enemies? Hah!
He would rather die first, and that was what he was going to do.
The reports of the strange customs of the invading barbarians did not lie. They were weird, and almost utterly incomprehensible to Yoshino. Right now, he could see that they did not even bother to post guards outside his room!
He stopped laughing once he was sure they could not hear him, and resisted the urge to rub his wrist after the clanner’s painful grip. There were three black cords around one of his wrists, and he had not the slightest idea what they were for.
Yoshino closed his eyes for a moment, trying to achieve the state of complete detachment from the world. It was necessary for what he was about to do next. He imagined a flame burning in a black void, and centered his thoughts on that flickering flame.
His eyes shot open, and he pulled hard at the various IV wires on his arms. Almost immediately, the openings in his skin started to bleed, but Yoshino shunted away the pain to the flame in his mind, and tore away strips of his blanket and wrapped them round his arms to stop the bleeding. He summoned up his energy to leave the bed, and staggered off towards the door.
He took a look out into the corridor, saw that there was nobody around. He went back to the bed to retrieve a pair of slippers, and left the room, leaving a bed with streaks of blood from his wounds.
As he walked in the hospital, he tried to act as nonchalant as he could. He considered it a stroke of luck that he had been there before, and so he knew the fastest route to the car pool.
He went through the hospital, resisting the urge to just run, since he still felt very weak, and he did not want to raise any suspicions either. Agent Hyu, now undoubtedly dead in one of the many commando attacks on the clan supply caches, would have been proud of his performance.
Yoshino nodded and smiled at a pretty nurse as he walked out of a set of doors into the car park. He picked out an open air green hovercar, and clambered over the door.
He soon managed to get it started with a bit of wiring learnt behind the instructors’ backs at the Sun Zhang. The hovercar hummed into life, and he drove out of the hospital into the city.
Yoshino savored the view of the city as he drove, even though the banners of the Draconis Combine had all been removed. The tall buildings, signs of the world’s prosperity, lined the streets. Due to the recent battle for the world, however, there were few people out, even in the late afternoon. He allowed the breeze to flow over his face, invigorating him.
Yoshino did not mind, as he headed towards his own estates. Bequeathed to him by his parents, they were all he had left of them. Even his father’s Atlas, veteran of so many battles, was now nothing more than wreckage on a battlefield.
He had failed, and there was only one way for a samurai to atone for failure. He had disgraced his family, and again, there was only one solution that he knew of.
It was only a ten minute drive, but he could feel his injuries and fatigue taking their toll on his body. His vision grew hazy, but he persisted as he turned the wheel of the hovercar.
He drove past a series of gates, before stopping at his family home. Almost immediately, Toda, the elderly caretaker, saw him, and rushed down the steps where he had been pruning the plants lined on the side of the house entrance.
“Ihara-san!” The old man exclaimed, “Thank the Buddha you’re alive!” He half lifted, half dragged Yoshino out of the car as the mechwarrior could not hold back his injuries any longer.
They stumbled up the steps, and Toda’s face was slick with tears. Yoshino could only hiss in pain as he tried to move on his own, to reduce the burden on his faithful family servant.
Toda spoke softly as they struggled up to the house. “When the Nova Cats and the Smoke Jaguars announced that they had pacified the planet, I thought you were dead. I had tried so many ways to find out if you were alive, but with all the loyal samurai dead, and the killing of the planetary administrators by the barbarian Jaguars, there was no information at all!”
“I do not blame you, Toda-sama,” Yoshino wheezed out as they pushed open the door. “The baka clanners have killed most of my regiment. I managed to escape from the hospital they were holding me in.”
“Ihara-san, what are you going to do next…” Toda trailed off as he saw Yoshino’s eyes fixated on the katana and wakizashi placed in the weapons stand in the greeting room, normally a position of pride for the family. He understood what that meant.
He shot Yoshino a frenzied glance. “Iie! There must be another way!”
Yoshino pushed Toda away, slumping to the floor. “Another way? There is no other way! I have failed my Tono and my honor! I have let down my ancestors and my parents! I had let down the people I had sworn to protect! There is no redemption for me.” Yoshino finished weakly, his energy spent.
Toda trembled as he asked, trying to control his emotions, “What are your instructions, young master?”
“Prepare the garden. And bring me some paper and a brush. And since there is no one else available, you will have to be my kaishaku-nin.” Yoshino knew that Toda, as a former samurai and comrade of his father in the DCMS, would not let him down.
“So what do you think of your new bondsman?” Deserk asked as the two clan warriors sat down for some food in the hospital canteen before returning to their base, a DCMS military installation that was left relatively intact by the fighting. At any rate, Deserk liked the new accommodations a lot more than the cramped confines of the dropships.
“He is angry, which is quite understandable. He will come around in time, I am sure of it.” Descartin said, then bit down on a fried chicken drumstick they had appropriated from one of the food stalls.
Deserk was not as optimistic as his sibkin was. “I do not know. There seems to be something we are missing, something which we have not realized about the people here.”
“There will be more than enough time to do so,” Descartin waved off Deserk’s misgivings. “Besides, I have good news for you.”
Deserk raised an eyebrow. “You have?”
“As of right now, you are a Star Commander, in charge of Bravo Star,” Descartin held out the rank insignia of a star commander in one of his hands to Deserk, who took it disbelievingly, “congratulations.”
“I do not believe it. What convinced Star Colonel Nostra to promote me?”
“Well, for starters, this is only temporary, until we can hold a proper Trial of Position for you. Next, Star Colonel Nostra made it clear that if you or I mess up, he will have our heads, so I think he is just waiting to see if we can live up to the responsibilities. Lastly, you have earned this, by your actions in the campaign for this world.”
“Well, I do not know what to say,” Deserk looked at the insignia in his hand, “I mean, I…” He was cut off by a scream.
The two warriors quickly got up ran to the origin of the scream, only to find that it had been outside Yoshino’s room. They found a visitor to the hospital crying in the arms of a nurse.
“What happened?” Descartin asked the nurse.
The nurse looked up. “This lady went to the wrong ward, and she was shocked when the bed was empty and there were blood stains on the sheets.”
“Empty?” Deserk ran into the room. Aff, the bed was empty. And the IV tubes were scattered all over, while there was blood, quite fresh from the looks of it, on the white sheets.
“Des, he has escaped!” Deserk rushed back out into the corridor.
“Escaped, or left?” Descartin asked coolly. “Now, where could a man like him go, considering that he needs help? Comstar is quite sure that there are no resistance groups left, and the Draconis Combine would probably be unleashing everything they have here to weaken us before we get to Luthien, because if they do not attack now, then attacking later when their capital had fallen would be a waste of effort.”
Deserk thought carefully. “His family had estates somewhere to the north of the city. I know where it is.”
“Let us go then.” Descartin was about to start walking away when the doctor stepped in front of their path. “Do you wish to die, freebirth?” Descartin asked with a edge of menace in his tone.
The doctor swallowed hard. “Uh, no. But I do feel I should tell you this, since I am bound by my oath to save lives. I think the honorable samurai is planning to commit seppuku.”
Deserk frowned. “What is seppu… whatever you call it?”
“It means that he will kill himself, traditionally with a wakizashi. They do it to atone for their failure in battle.”
“Bondsref…” Descartin nodded in understanding. Bondsref was the suicide of a bondsman who did not want to suffer the ignominy of serving his new clan. It was basically a one on one ‘fight’ between the bondsman and his master in which the bondsman would not retaliate, and the master was allowed to use any weapon. It was essentially suicide.
He nodded to the doctor, “Thank you for informing us of this. Your contribution will be reported.” He started running, as did Deserk.
“Freebirth! He did not even ask me for permission to commit bondsref!” Descartin cursed under his breath as they ran to the car park.
“He probably did not know.” Deserk explained. “After all, how could he?”
They ran out into the car park. Descartin jumped into the driver’s seat of Deserk’s jeep, emblazoned with the insignia of the clan. “We have to get to his home.”
“Hold on. Do you know how to driveee…!” Deserk’s question was lost to the air when Descartin floored the accelerator.
Deserk noted that because of the many things he had to learn in his short time as an officer, Descartin never had the opportunity to learn basic driving. That fact was brought to him in a rush of adrenaline due to sheer fear as Descartin blazed through the streets at full speed, barely in control of the wheel.
“Slow down, freebirth!” Deserk shouted to no avail as Descartin kept his foot pressed to the accelerator. Nevertheless, Deserk continued to shout out directions.
There was pandemonium on the streets as Descartin disregarded red lights, vehicles, and even pedestrians in his first time at the wheel of a car. Deserk was eternally grateful that their recent invasion of the world had resulted in a lot less people outside, or else it could have been a major bloodbath on the streets.
“HOOT! HOOT!” Descartin had found the car horn, and he was pressing it for all it was worth as they careened through the city, a blaring sound that literally filled the entire city. Deserk clung desperately onto the hand holds on the windscreen, hoping that his seat belts would hold up while they navigated the narrow roads.
All of a sudden, the jeep left the city, and Deserk calmed down when the amount of competing traffic became a trickle.
“Even if we are in a hurry, there is no need for you to go this fast.” Deserk muttered.
“Well, a life is a stake. I consider that enough reason to go as fast as we can.” Descartin replied. “How much further?”
“About four more klicks up, turn right. We should be there soon.”
“Aff.” Descartin acknowledged.
The time passed by quickly, and soon they were driving past a series of gates to a large traditional Japanese mansion.
The jeep screeched to a halt, and the two clansmen jumped out of the vehicle. Deserk realized his legs felt like rubber as he landed, and he had to reach out to the jeep’s doors to remain on his feet.
“What is wrong?” Descartin asked.
“Never mind, just go first! I will catch up once I get some blood back into my legs!” Deserk waved his sibmate off.
Descartin turned around and started running up the steps.
Descartin tore through the flimsy paper doors. Stupid architecture, he thought as he looked around. There were mats on the floor, but there seemed to be nobody around. For a moment he regretted his clumsy entry, but it looked as if there was nobody around. Perhaps we were wrong.
He drew his sidearm, a gauss pistol. While most clan warriors prefer laser pistols for their ease of use and lack of ammunition, Descartin had chosen the gauss pistol for the visceral feel of a gun in action. He thumbed the safety off, and walked slowly into an adjacent room. The pistol gave off a thin whine as the capacitors charged up.
There was nothing much in the next room. A holovid player, some rice calligraphy works on the wall, and some mounted paintings in the dimly lit room. It was getting dark as dusk fell on the world.
Descartin looked around a bit more, and he noticed light streaming in from one of other doors leading from the room.
He pushed the door to the side slowly, and then peered out. It led to a corridor, bordering what seemed to be a garden. There seemed to be lights in the garden, compensating for the setting sun. Descartin tried to peek around, but the angle of the gap prevented him from seeing anything more of the garden.
He slid the door open just enough to squeeze his body through, just in time to behold a strange tableau in the garden.
A man with bandages all over his body was holding a sword in front of him with the tip facing his stomach, while another man, old and decrepit, with a despairing expression on his face, held up a slightly shorter sword, ready to swipe the bandaged man’s head off with one clean stroke. He recognized Yoshino as the man ready to plunge a sword into his own belly. The two did not seem to notice his presence.
Then light from the setting sun reflected from the short sword’s gleaming blade as Yoshino plunged it down.
“Stop!” He shouted. His gauss pistol was already raised, but he could only fire on pure instinct. He pressed the trigger anyway, aiming for the blade, and hoping against hope that his shot was true.
It was a one-in-a-million shot as the blade plunged in for a moment before being spun away to one side by the impact of the gauss slug. The tip of the blade nicked the entire side of Yoshino’s body, drawing a long bleeding scar as the samurai lost his grip on the short sword, which continued to spin away from the sheer momentum imparted by the gauss slug.
The old man turned to look at him, and suddenly charged at Descartin.
Descartin countercharged the man with a yell, drawing a short knife from his belt and holding it in his left hand as his right hand snapped off several rounds from the gauss pistol.
Incredibly, two of the rounds missed the old man, while the one that was on target was somehow blocked by the blade he wielded as the blade flashed in front of him in a desperate defense. A red light appeared on the gauss pistol, indicating that it was out of ammunition. Descartin flung the pistol at the old man, who batted it aside with a swat of the katana. The pistol flew into the garden plants.
The clan warrior took advantage of the momentary opening in the old man’s charging stance as he closed in with the elderly bladesman with a burst of speed. As a result, the old man suddenly realized he did not have enough space to use the katana effectively.
Descartin’s knife flashed up, but the old man threw himself backwards, while slashing out with the blade. Descartin hurriedly brought the knife down to parry, only just in time to prevent the katana from eviscerating his body.
He stepped in closer to the old man, who was trying for another swipe of the sharp blade with his back on the ground. Before he could strike, Descartin kicked out savagely at the man’s head. The blow connected solidly, and the old man fell back groggily.
Another yell made Descartin look up, to see Yoshino bearing down with the blade he had used to almost kill himself. Descartin managed to bring up his knife to parry the blow to one side.
“Hey!” A shout from Deserk as he arrived at the scene. He had his laser pistol aimed at Yoshino. “Stop fighting now!”
Without warning, the old man on the ground flung his katana at Deserk, who was too stunned at the attack to move completely out of the way. The blade incredibly sliced through his pistol, destroying the advanced weapon. Deserk stumbled backwards as the laser pistol exploded.
Descartin did not even attempt to take his attention off Yoshino to see what was going on with Deserk. The bondsman might be hobbled by his injuries, but the reach of his weapon more than compensated for his lack of strength and mobility. The two circled around one another, trading blows and parrying rapidly.
Descartin stared at the center of his opponent, trying to anticipate his moves as best as he could and blocking with the knife, which was a joke compared to the sword of his opponent. His defense was not totally successful, and he had suffered several minor cuts on his arms and legs. Moreover, the knife was already badly nicked by the far sharper Japanese blade, and could not possibly hold up much longer.
He wondered if Deserk could come to his aid in time.
Deserk was having his own problems. His laser pistol had blown up in his face, and he had been reduced to running from an old man and his katana.
For all of his enemy’s age, he did not seem capable of keeping up with Deserk, but that was exactly what was going on as Deserk scrambled from one spot to another, dodging the wicked slashes from the katana all the while.
Deserk tripped on one of the tiles, and slid to the ground. He saw the old man closing in to deliver what was sure to be a deathblow. Deserk spied a potted plant nearby with a sturdy stem, and he reached out for it in a last ditch move, pulling it up and around with the clay pot as a makeshift club.
The katana sliced through the pot, but the mass of soil and clay fragments continued on their way into the old man, who staggered slightly. Deserk took the opportunity to grip the old man’s wrist, and he twisted hard.
The katana fell to the ground, and Deserk followed up with a fast roundhouse to the old man’s head. The punch slammed into his head, and the old man collapsed to the ground, completely unconscious.
Deserk looked up to see Descartin and Yoshino still going at it.
Yoshino stared in rage at the yohei warrior who had, of all things, the temerity to interrupt a seppuku ceremony! He channeled that anger into strength for his blows, which were wearing down his enemy’s defense.
“Why,” he panted, “Why don’t you just let me die!”
The clanner replied, even as he parried another blow from the wakizashi with his ridiculous knife. “You have worth and value. The spirit of a true warrior. It would be a waste if you should kill yourself.”
“Worth and value?” Yoshino spat. “I have failed! What worth do I have? What value?” He slashed wildly with the blade, forcing Descartin back.
Then a hand from behind him clamped onto his wrist with the hand wielding the wakizashi. Yoshino tried to use his left elbow to strike back at his new assailant, but his target slipped away to the front, chopping at his hand with a blow and dropping the weapon from his hands.
Yoshino did not give up. He kicked out viciously, but the other clanner simply blocked the kick with his legs. Descartin took advantage and went in with a blow to Yoshino’s stomach that dropped him to his knees.
Yoshino was beaten, and he knew it. He looked up at the two clanners standing in front of him. Deserk picked up his wakizashi and stabbed it tip first into the ground beside the katana. “Kill me and be done with it.” He said.
Deserk sighed. “The point of this whole exercise was to prevent you from dying!”
“I am already dead, in soul if not in body.”
Still breathing heavily from the conflict, Descartin sat down on the garden tiles. “You really believe that? By Kerensky, you are more messed up than I thought. I do not believe that anybody could think of committing suicide just because he had failed.”
“It is a matter of honor.” Yoshino insisted, still hoping that these mad clanners would come to their senses and kill him.
“And by dying, you think you can wash away your failures? That is a mark of cowardice, Yoshino. A true warrior endures, and in hope that he can regain his lost honor.”
“But fighting for you, my enemies, against the people I have sworn to serve?” Yoshino shook his head. “I will never do so.”
“You have seen what we can do. Does it matter if you help us or not? Perhaps by helping, you could temper our invasion, help us better understand the people we are conquering. Do you wish for another Edo?”
“Iie!” Yoshino yelled as he remembered the horrid images of the ruined city on Turtle Bay. “Is this a threat?”
“Neg,” Descartin answered, “This is not a threat. We are not the Smoke Jaguars, brutal and ruthless warriors who seek only to destroy. We are the Nova Cats. We seek the future in our visions, and strengthen our minds and bodies to fulfill Kerensky’s vision. Our conquest is less a matter of subjugating the Inner Sphere than beating the Crusader clans to Terra, our ultimate objective.”
Yoshino rocked back at the revelation. “You seek to conquer Terra?”
“Aff. We seek to restore the Star League. Even you must admit this is a worthy cause.”
“But at what cost?” Yoshino asked. “The death and destruction of so many warriors and mechs, just to restore a lost dream?”
“Yes. We did not expect you to simply let us pass on our way. Would you have given us permission to set up a Star League, if we had simply arrived and asked you to join us?”
“I don’t think so.” Yoshino admitted. His eyes narrowed. “But you still have not given me a reason to continue living.”
“Then how about this? As a bondsman, you shall have a closer understanding of the clan. Perhaps when and if you escape, your superiors in the Draconis Combine would be pleased with your information.” Descartin ignored Deserk’s shocked look as he gave his treacherous suggestion.
Yoshino felt insulted. “I am samurai. Spying is below me.”
“Well then, I suppose there is very little I can say. But think about it. Everybody has their own perceptions of honor. Nobody can live without honor. I know that. Your failure in the face of great odds is not, and never will be, dishonorable. You stood in the face of danger and fought to your best ability, and warriors with spirit like that should be commended, wherever they are.”
“Commended, but still killed.” Yoshino said bitterly.
“Live to fight another day, young master.” Toda stumbled towards them. Descartin looked up for an instance, but he apparently did not judge Toda to be a threat anymore, and he remained relaxed.
Toda continued. “The yohei is right. If you die today, who will avenge your parents? I am an old man, and I can hardly pilot a mech, much less fight a battle in one. You have your whole life in front of you. Live, and fight another day. Where there is life, there is hope.”
Yoshino closed his eyes. He could die. If he wanted to do so, nothing could really stop him. But his death would mean that his vow of vengeance on Vance Rezak would never be accomplished. But if he lived, he would be abandoning his honor, aiding the enemies of the Dragon. Even if he did as Descartin suggested, and did so with the intent as a spy, he did not think he could bear to do so.
No, if he decided to live on, then he would serve his new masters loyally. But he might have a chance of avenging his parents. Either way, he would lose his honor. Ninjo and giri, the tenets of the way of the samurai, both equally important. He made his decision.
He would live, and fight another day. And perhaps one day, avenge his parents.
He opened his eyes to look at Descartin, who stared right back. “So you tell me I’m your bondsman. What does it mean?”