Fiona walked down the ramp to the spaceport surface behind Lovvins and Abigail. For some reason, she was expecting something a little more dramatic for the homeworld of the clans. The weather was relatively mild, but most everything looked bleak. It was not some exotic paradise, or even a winter wonderland like Tharkad could be. And it certainly was no idyllic New Ivaarsen, where she had grown up.

        "It is wonderful, is it not, surat?" Abigail seemed somehow invigorated by the surroundings. 

        She shuffled her gear bag slightly on her shoulder. "This is where both of you were born and raised?"

        Lovvins looked side to side, taking in the scene. "It is indeed. Most of my time was spent in the harsher polar regions, growing up in the forests to the north. I never saw Ironhold City until after my blooding."

        She looked at them quizzically. "Blooding?"

        Abigail took up the conversation. "It is how we sometimes refer to the initial trial of position, when one goes from the sibko into the real world, from child to adult. My sibko was raised much closer to the temperate region here around Ironhold City, but I too never ventured into the city until after I had claimed my place as a warrior."

        "And all of the clans are the same way?"

        "Neg, the other clans have their holdings, and their ways are slightly different. Ironhold is the property solely of the Jade Falcons. We are born and raised here. The Founder himself died here in combat, and we ward the site of his passing."

        She dug through the history she had crammed in her studies the last few months. "That would be Nicholas Kerensky, quiaff? He died here on Ironhold?"

        They continued walking until they reached an arrival terminal where they would check in. "Aff. He was refereeing a trial when a stray shot from Clan Widowmaker breached his cockpit. The Widowmakers were absorbed totally for their failure that day."

        They were passed through the terminal with little trouble. "And this grand council of all the bloodnamed, it will be held here?"

        Lovvins shook his head. "Neg. The Grand Kurultai will take place on Strana Mechty. But before that can take place, there are numerous bloodnames that must be filled. That is why we are here."

        She kept a respectful few steps distance behind the other two as they led the way. "And if you win in your Trial of Bloodright, you then get a vote in the clan council?"

        Lovvins practically closed his eyes envisioning the prize of a bloodname. "Aff, but so much more. When I win, I will be the holder of a sacred blood legacy, my deeds and contributions will add to it, and my genes will be passed on to the Sacred Gene Pool to create new and better warriors."

        "I mean no disrespect, but what are your chances in this contest? How many are you competing against? Is it just Elementals like yourself, or all clan warriors?"

        Abigail stepped in. "The Star Commander will be one of thirty-two competitors for the bloodname. In his case, the bloodname up for claim is an Icaza bloodright, and that bloodname is almost exclusively made up of Elemental lines. I believe there are a few mechwarriors vying for the honor, but they will likely be weeded out by statistical probability facing so many Elementals. The Icaza line is prized among all the clans for its BattleArmor warriors."

        She continued peppering them with questions. "Why are you not competing for a bloodname? Are there qualifiers?"

        Abigail smirked. "The number of bloodnames available at a given time is limited. Only twenty-five warriors may hold a given bloodname at any point. When one dies, the bloodname is fought over as soon as is reasonably possible. Most of the thirty-two contestants are selected by having a current holder of the bloodname sponsor their claim. The greater one's achievements, the greater the likelihood of being sponsored. The final slot is open to any claimants, who fight each other simultaneously in the grand melee. My own bloodname eligibility is for the bloodname of Hazen, but there are currently no available bloodrights. I must wait until one of the current holders dies, and by that time, hopefully a member of house Hazen will have their eye on me for sponsorship."

        "And what of my trial?"

        Lovvins responded. "I am awaiting word from the training center here on Ironhold. I have passed the declaration of intent on to the Star Colonel, who has forwarded it here. I am told that while the clan currently has no official Loremaster, the mechanical beast Kael Pershaw is acting in that role. If there is to be any problem, it will come from him."

        She shuddered at the thought of meeting Kael Pershaw again. "How soon are any of these trials likely to take place?"

        Lovvins stopped and took in the view of the city. "My own Trial of Bloodright begins in three days time. I would say your trial is most likely at least a week away. That should give you ample time to practice in a real battlemech."

        She paused. "Wait, the trial is to be live fire?"

        Lovvins and Abigail looked at each other, puzzled. "Of course. Simulators mean nothing because nothing is at stake. All clan trials are live fire, no holds barred. To do anything else would be to invite weakness."

        "Well, I guess that takes the edge off of failure, if you're not around to see it." she quirked.

        Abigail slapped her on the shoulder. "For now, get settled into your accommodation and explore the city. This is the home of your new clan. Take in the sights and sounds. Lovvins will be busy, but I will be free most of the time, so we can finish up the final elements of your training, starting tomorrow, surat."

        A few hours later, she found herself wandering the streets of Ironhold City. She had received a brief tutorial from Abigail on how currency was handled, basically a system of work credits that was tabulated to a person's codex. She had felt strange at first, when she heard what all was contained in the codex bracelet, but upon further thought, it made considerable sense to keep all records in one easy to access spot.

        She had wandered for a time through the merchant quarter, stunned by the sheer variety to be found there. Up until now, her entire exposure to the Clans had been warrior caste centered. Yes, there were merchants and techs in the invasion corridor, but they didn't really live there. The invasion corridor was the warrior purview, but here on Ironhold, the other castes had their own space.

        Eventually she had wandered into the warrior quarter. Here there were still restaurants, bars, and shops, but they were all far more rigid and purpose driven. As she wandered the streets, she began to get a feel for the delineation of the boundaries between trueborn and freeborn areas. There was some overlap, of course, but for the most part, each outlet had either a true or a free vibe or color to it.

        With the evening growing long, she decided to see what passed for a clanner bar. She knew better than to risk herself in one of the trueborn centered establishments, but she quickly found a very freeborn bar and ordered up a drink. She ordered a fusionaire, the only clan drink she knew, and downed the shot quickly. She regretted it immediately, for it was far more potent and stinging than the pre-packaged versions that she and Abigail had shared.

        She sat on the barstool and looked around the crowd. For all appearances, it might as well have been a mechwarrior bar on a fairly civilized world in the Inner Sphere. It was nothing like the nightclubs she had gone to in her academy days on Robinson, but it seemed to fit the image that had been ingrained in her for the mechwarrior bar that existed on every planet where mechwarriors were stationed.

        The vids were different, of course. There were no sports or mech fights on, mostly it was a stream of news and information, with the occasional vidset being tuned to the scene of a battle unfolding. She was lost in her reverie when she felt someone slap her on the shoulder.

        "Stop daydreaming, bondsman. We're one short on the snooker table, care to join?"

        The group was three seemingly affable young men who looked about as fresh faced as a cadet review. They seemed harmless enough, so she joined them in spite of being baffled as to how snooker could be a team game. When she reached the table, she realized that the clan version had apparently branched off somewhere, as there were a myriad of balls and obstacles on the table.

        She took to the rules quick enough, and the boys made sure that the drinks kept flowing. After a few too many fusionaires, her aim at the table was seriously off, and her shot rang dead against the one wall of the table. One of the clanners grunted in fake exasperation. "Bondsman, you are shooting like a one eyed Goliath Scorpion. What clan did you say you hailed from?"

        She walked slightly tipsy to the cue rack and leaned against it for support. "No clan. This girl is from the Inner Sphere."

        More than one person took notice of her answer. At first she was inundated like a celebrity with questions of what the Inner Sphere was like, but after a few minutes, the questions turned darker and more mocking. She was drunk enough to be bothered by it, but still sober enough to know that it was time to leave the bar. She made her way over to the bar and scanned her codex with the attendant, who paid her little heed, then turned around to make her way to the exit. As she did, she bumped into a young man with short blonde hair and a sour expression.

        She steadied herself and tried to blink away some of the alcohol haze. "My apologies. I did not mean to bump into you."

        He harrumphed. "Do you see what they are raising in the Inner Sphere, Falcons? Table manners! We shall wipe the floor with them on our way to Terra!" The crowd let out a raucous cheer, and she shook her head to ignore the comment, trying to brush her way past to the entrance. The blonde haired man tossed the contents of his ale glass at her.

        She froze for a moment. The reasonable part of her knew she should walk away. But the other part, perhaps it was the alcohol, perhaps it was a desire to prove herself, perhaps it was a side effect of the more powerful woman she was becoming, that part would not let her walk away. She cried out in fury and ran straight into the man. She knocked him over and rained blow after blow on the stunned clan warrior. Several of the crowd jumped up and managed to pull her off of her target. They held her back, and she irrationally struggled to break free, as there was no need to pound more blows into the already limp form that lay on the ground in front of her.

        Somewhere in that conflagration, restraint turned into a kidney punch, and she writhed in pain, dropping to her knees. The voices around her became a blur as she was knocked to the floor, and somewhere after the first few kicks, she lost consciousness.

        A few hours later, Abigail was pounding on the door of a billet in the warrior quarter. She ran through three series of blows to the door, and was considering kicking it in, when the door opened. She did not wait and barged her way in, pushing back a middle aged, dark blonde haired freebirth and then slugging him squarely in the jaw.

        "Welcome to my humble abode," he said as he recovered his balance and rubbed his face.

        "Where is she?!" Abigail practically screamed at the man.

        He held one hand up defensively and pointed with the other to the bed where Fiona lay huddled.

        Abigail fixed the man with a glare. "If you so much as harmed a hair on her body, freebirth, I will tear your loins out and feed them to whatever street animals haunt this freebirth sector!" She then ran over to Fiona, who was still asleep, bruises starting to form in several places."

        "You're welcome, Mechwarrior." Abner said snidely. 

        Abigail focused her rage on Abner. "What happened, freebirth?! Tell me or I will have your head."

        Abner held up his hands in submission. "What happened is our little girl there got her first taste of the realities of life as a Jade Falcon. She must have been bar hopping or something, she came into a bar that's mostly freeborns and got comfortable. She saddled up with a trio of fresh faced eyases that damn near looked to be right out of their warrior training for some games of snooker. Once the liquor got working on her tongue, she let slip that she was from the Inner Sphere. Most handled it ok, one damn fool though decided to toss his drink at her. I think she was looking to get out of there, but you know how young kids are when their dander is up. She started beating the fool into another incarnation, which did not endear her to the crowd. That's about the time I jumped in and carried her out of there. Once we were out, it didn't make sense to try to look up where she was billeted, and there was no sense taking her to a medical facility, so I brought her here to sleep it off."

        Abigail's eyes darted back and forth between Abner and Fiona's still sleeping form. "Why were you watching her, and how did you know to contact me?"

        "Truth is I wasn't watching her, it was just dumb luck she stumbled into that bar. As for you, I was on board the Lord Death for most of the last leg of our journey back here. I know you don't probably take much notice of freeborns hanging around your ship, but to me an Inner Sphere bondsman sticks out like a sore thumb, so I knew who she was and who her puppeteers are."

        Abigail stood with her hands on her hips. "Well, it appears that you did the right thing, freebirth, so thanks would seem to be in order."

        Abner rubbed his jaw. "I'll take your thanks, Mechwarrior, and remind you that it's Star Commander Freebirth if we're being all official and in order.