Fiona  tried to blend into the crowd of onlookers at the administration building, where her parents were currently queued for their processing through the clan system. The man at the podium handing out the declarations did not look like any clanner she had yet seen. Slovenly was the best word that came to her mind in describing the man. His uniform was dirty and in disarray, and his personal hygiene fairly unkempt, though it seemed not to bother him as he painstakingly moved through each applicant, giving a dry summary of the decision reached regarding their fate.

    Of course it was not easy to blend in with an Elemental at your side, and Lovvins leaned down to speak to her. “That pitiful display of a person is the merchant caste adjudicator assigned to dispense whatever fate the bean counters have declared for these isorla. When he comes to the case of your freebirth mother, act quickly and decisively. You must be arrogant and look down upon these lower caste types, or they sometimes try to play above their station. Tolerate no insolence from him. If he protests, push harder. He will eventually be made to know his place, but you must not allow him to get out of line. The merchants can be most annoying at times.”

        She nodded. “I think I understand.”

    After a few minutes, her parents were next in line. The merchant spoke in a hoarse, dry monotone. “Kendrick, Andrew. Titles of nobility but no apparent worth to the clan. Repatriation through Comstar to avoid unneeded drain on our resources. Next up, Kendrick, Cynthia. Noteworthy education in Biomedicine and sufficient aptitude scores. Transfer to the Scientist caste, to be sent to the homeworlds for further training.”

    As the merchant began to speak to the next case, there was some commotion between her parents that she could not make out, but Fiona barged her way to the podium and spoke loudly. “I challenge this classification. You are in error, this woman is of no use to the clan and should be repatriated with her husband.”

    There was something of a hush, and an indiscernible sound escaped the mouth of the merchant before he gathered his wits and turned to her, flummoxed. “What is the meaning of this? Why are you interrupting simple proceedings, freebirth? And I see that not only are you a freebirth, you are also a bondsman. I have no time for your childish jokes here. Move on.”

    “Neg, I will not stand aside, bean counter. I may be freeborn but I am already of more use to the clan than the life sum of your papers and reports. My challenge is valid, and you should not even be questioning such things. Your station is to operate you little rubber stamp, I have no use for you, pass the challenge along to your superiors until it reaches someone of consequence.”

      The man wiped spittle from the corners of his mouth. “Freebirth, you have no standing to make a challenge as a bondsman. Go prostitute yourself to some warrior or other real clansman. I have no time for this.”

    “Listen to me, stamp-man. I am your better in so many ways, I would kill you right here but for the fact that I would no doubt have to deal with another of your ilk to handle the paperwork. My bondholder supports my challenge, that is all the right I need.”

    The merchant waved his hands frantically. “This is beyond a waste of my time. Fine, I shall pass your challenge to the garrison commander, little welp. I have duties to attend to here and you are holding up progress.”

    A little over an hour later, Fiona sat at a table across from her parents, with Lovvins and Abigail standing to either side of her. After a few seconds of awkward silence, she spoke up. “I know you probably have a million questions for me, so go ahead.”

     Her parents looked at each other briefly, then her mother was the first to speak. “Just…what is going on here? What is all this?”

    Fiona sighed and put her business face on.  “You guys were sent here on some foolish errand, and you got trapped. You ran, and the Falcons caught you. Since they won this system in battle, they claim everything and everyone in the system. Now, they didn’t find much that would want out of you, Dad, but they knew that you studied bio-med at university before you married him, Mom. In the clan way of thinking, you are a valuable asset, so they wanted to ship you back to the clan homeworlds so you could do scientific work. It’s all very utilitarian. But with the Clans, basically anything can be overturned in a fight. So that's what I'm doing."

    There was a brief pause before her mother spoke again. "Sweetie, that is one of the last things on our mind. The AFFC told us that you were missing in action, presumed killed in the fighting of the first wave of attacks by these Clans. What happened? Were you captured? Are you alright?"

    Her father fixed her with an icy glare. "You look very good for a prisoner."

    Her mother placed a hand on her father's arm. "She looks different but at least it looks like they're treating her well. Are they treating you well sweetie?"

    Her gaze stayed fixed on her father. "I don't think that's what he was implying, mom."

    Her mother looked concerned. "What are you talking about. Andrew, what's wrong?"

    The stare-down continued. "Think about it, Cynthia. She's stronger, healthier, more fit than she's ever been. And the way she talked back there. I don't think you're a prisoner at all, are you, Fiona?"

    "No, not exactly."

    "And what exactly does that mean?"

    She paused, took a deep breath, and continued. "We were hit by the Jade Falcons and initially had no idea what was going on. My unit was guarding the rear areas and a MASH unit. We got overrun when the main fight turned into a rout. I managed to fight my people free initially, but it was too late, and the rest of our forces lifted off. I joined up with a resistance group, but it was only a matter of time before I was captured in the fighting. Like I said, the Clans are utilitarian. When someone fights well against them and they capture them, that person is made a bondsman. It's a kind of...I don't know how to put it, indentured servitude, where you work to prove your worth and are eventually taken into the clan as one of them."

    Her father's face tensed with anger. "In other words, you were captured and decided to turn coat and become one of them."

    She fought back her own anger. "It's not like that, Dad."

    He stood up and looked down at her. Lovvins made a move to step forward, but Fiona held her arm up to hold him back. "Then what is it like? You've turned your back on everything you were raised with. You're going to what, fight for them? Fight against the Federated Suns? Against the Prince you swore an oath to? Against the army you swore to be a part of? Against your home and family?!"

    She smashed her fist against the table and stood to meet his glare, leaning forward. "Dad, just STOP!"...she paused for a few seconds as the two of them locked eyes, anger boiling behind both of their visages. "You want to know what I'm doing? I'm living my life. I'm trying to survive. I'm getting by on who I am. You never gave a damn about that back home. Nothing I did ever mattered, because I was the second child born and I was a girl. It was all about Jackson. You didn't care what I did or what I accomplished, as long as I stayed out of my brother's shadow and out of trouble. Nothing I did meant a thing. I thought maybe joining the AFFC would help with that, but of course I only got into Robinson because of my family. And when I got there, my path was already laid out for me, I would graduate and join the New Ivarsson Chasseurs because that was what I was supposed to do. Mark my time in the ranks and find some officer to marry, or make myself a prize you could marry off for a bit of family influence. Nothing of it was me, nothing I did would matter."

    She balled her fists and closed her eyes for a moment before continuing. "That changed when I got here. When we were attacked, none of the petty bullshit mattered, all that counted was what I could do for my people. And I saved what I could of them. Me. I acted and I did it. And then I got captured by the Falcons, and suddenly I was somewhere where all of the expectations, the nobility, all of that was blown away and didn't mean shit. I was nothing, and if I was ever going to be something, it would be what I made of myself. And that's what I'm doing. I'm sorry if I ruined your little plans. Now, I'm going to go fight for you, even though you hate me and what I've become, because I still love both of you and because it's the right thing to do."

    Her father started to speak, but she smashed her fist on the table. "No!". And with that, she turned and stormed out the door, slamming it behind her, leaving her parents in the room with Lovvins and Abigail.

    There was an awkward silence for a few seconds, then her father looked up to face Lovvins, as if about to speak. Before he could do so, the Elemental stepped forward to the table and looked down at the smaller man. "No, do not speak, old man. You have no standing here. You are not even the lowliest of merchant. You are a fool. Here among the Clans, we breed the best traits into the next generation, so that each generation is better than the last, the best that has emerged. You freebirths trust your genes to the hands of fate and random chance. But you, you stand here in arrogance, speaking of things you do not understand, when you should be on your knees in thanks that in your case, fate has smiled on you and your gene-spawn have far surpassed your own pitiful weakness. You should be proud of the accomplishments of your progeny, yet you cower and babble on about silly notions of nobility and loyalty to the failed states of the Inner Sphere. We are right to have returned to set right the disgraceful manner in which you have cared for the remnants of the Star League."

    With that, he too stormed out, without giving the other man a chance to respond. Abigail stood silently against the wall for a few moments as the two Inner Sphere citizens looked at each other. Finally, she stepped forward and broke the silence, pointing to the vacant chair. "May I sit?"

    Andrew glared at her. "Are you going to lecture me too, Clan bitch?"

    His wife grabbed his arm, and Abigail remained passive. "Neg, Mr. Andrew. The Star Commander did an admirable job of that. I have nothing to contribute in that regard."

    "Then what do you want?"

    She folded her hands on the table. "I am trying to understand. The Star Commander is Fiona's bondholder, but I have been given the duty of training her in our ways, helping her absorb into our Clan. A significant part of that has been learning what motivates her. I had already gleaned much of what she just said to you, though not all. But in this matter, I am utterly confused. In the Clans, we look forward to the next generation. But in her case, she is looking back, fighting for the past. I do not understand it."

    Andrew met her gaze. "It's called family. Tradition. All the things you're trying to beat out of her"

    Abigail remained stoic. "I do not understand your anger. Your daughter is becoming what she is meant to be, and she is doing it quite well. When I first started training her, I thought it was a fool's errand, but I have grudgingly come to respect her. You profess this love of family, yet you do not take pride in the accomplishments of your spawn. Why?"

    "Because she is turning her back on everything she was raised with."

    "Neg. She is perhaps turning her back on what you envisioned for her, but is that not the way of things, that each generation surpasses the dreams and goals of the previous? Is that not how we better ourselves? If not, what do you people of the Inner Sphere use to drive yourselves forward? And consider this, if she were truly turning her back on family, as you claim, why would she be fighting for you now? It is foolish for her to do so, she has nothing to gain, yet she fights for you even as you scorn her."

    Andrew hit the table. "Enough. I'm done with this. Guard!" The guard opened the door, but Cynthia asked to remain for a moment. Her husband threw his hands up in exasperation and left.

    "This is all very hard for us to process. Please do not judge my husband too harshly. What is your name?"

    "I am Mechwarrior Abigail."

    Cynthia nodded. "You have been training Fiona. Are you two friends?"

    Abigail looked at the woman quizzically. "Neg. She is freeborn and I am trueborn, our circles are quite different. I am merely doing my duty for the Clan."

    Cynthia paused, smiling gently. "That may be. But it seems to me that the both of you came to her defense rather quickly when my husband became accusatory. Maybe that's just Clan loyalty or something like that, it just seemed...I don't know...comforting in a way. Can I ask you something?"

    Abigail shrugged "Aff, I suppose."

    "My daughter, is she happy with what she is doing?"

    "I would say yes. I suppose. Happiness is not what is important, so I do not take note of it particularly. But she is thriving and free to be herself, if that is what you are asking."

    Her mother smiled again, softly. "Yes, that is enough."