Several days had passed. The general mood of the city had sombered slightly when news had come down that a new ilKhan had been elected, but that it was Ulrich Kerensky of the Wolves. Fiona was only starting to pick up on some of the nuances of the differences between the clans, but one of the easiest things to pick up on had been the Falcon’s deep hatred and rivalry with Clan Wolf. The animosity went back centuries from what she understood, even to the founding of the clans.

There had been no word from Lovvins, but Abigail had mentioned that she expected he would be returning soon, and that they would hopefully depart soon after that for the invasion corridor. They had eaten only a light meal that evening, and afterwards, Abigail declared that the two of them had plans for the evening requiring they dress in their more formal clan leathers. It was the first time Fiona had worn hers. The tight, sleeveless corseted bodice made her feel as if she was standing permanently tall and proud and the snug leather leggings hugged every curve and muscle that she had worked so hard to sculpt over the last months. Together with black boots, it was hard not to feel proud and arrogant, as was no doubt the intent.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Somewhere that holds history and meaning for me. You will see.” Was the cryptic response.

They took a wheeled jeep out of the city, down progressively more rugged and less well maintained roads until they reached a checkpoint at a fenced compound. Abigail had the guard scan her codex, exchanged a few words with the soldier, and they were waved through. After a few turns down dirt roads past a series of dull, barracks-like structures, Abigail too the jeep off-road and down a cleared trail into the forest.

She took several turns, none of which were marked, and finally pulled up and stopped at a dirt embarkment and shut off the vehicle. She climbed out and signaled to Fiona to follow. She had a light with her that enabled them to make their way down a dirt path and down the slope of a hill until they came to a clearing.

The clearing was vast and contained tens of small camp fires scattered throughout. Some had people around them, some flickered away by themselves. On the opposite side she could make out another road from which small groups of people were periodically marching into the clearing. Abigail led them past several fires where there were groups of people, each group seeming to have one older warrior and a handful of young people, barely older than children, resplendent in Jade Falcon dress uniforms, some with capes, some wearing elaborate feathers, and so forth.

Finally they reached an empty fire, and Abigail gestured for Fiona to sit, then took a seat on the other side of the fire. 

“What is this place?” she asked.

Abigail gestured around. “This is one of many training installations scattered across Ironhold. This one is a so called Crash Camp site. It is for cadets in their final phase of warrior training. The ones you see here are perhaps a week or so away from their final trials.”

“They are barely adults, most of them.” She said incredulously.

Abigail nodded. “Aff. In some respects, I suppose, they are still somewhat children. But they are here tonight for their ritual of initiation. Tonight they will grow up, and in a few days time, they will either pass their trial and become warriors, or fail and go on to some other caste. I was barely seventeen when I passed my trial.”

Fiona laughed softly. “At that age, I was a first-year cadet.”

Abigail gestured at some of the small groups that were close enough to be discernable in the fire-lit night. “Each of those groups is what remains of a sibko and their Falconer. Once, there may have been fifty or sixty of them. Maybe twenty or thirty made it to actual training. Then over the last year, they have been whittled down to what you see here, five or six at most. My own sibko had only two of us make It this far, myself and a boy named Mordechai.”

Fiona smiled curiously, “”And what became of Mordechai? You told me before that you were the only of your sibko to become a warrior.”

Abigail smiled softly. “He failed miserably at our trial, and was relegated to the scientist caste to work with agricultural projects. I am not even certain that he damaged his first opponent in the trial, he had little aptitude for mech piloting and even less ability to stay calm under fire. That and he was thoughtful to a fault. If the clans had a poet caste or an exceedingly ponderous writer caste, he would have been assigned there.”

Fiona shared a laugh. “How did he make it this far then?”

Abigail shrugged. “Determination and fear of failure. He was quite brilliant, his scientific and technical scores carried him far past his combat deficiencies. He also had this foolishly romantic notion of the sibko as family, and was steadfastly determined not to wash out of it, and he also had a far too overzealous emotional attachment to me.”

Fiona grinned, “Aww, you mean he had a crush on you? That’s sweet.”

Abigail waved her hand. “It was not sweet, it was foolish and foul. He was always reading old literature that he conjured up from somewhere. I always blamed his foolishness on that. He would always babble on about literature and romance, especially after coupling.”

Fiona raised an eyebrow. “Wait, you guys coupled? But you were in the same sibko, so you were like, related, right? So he was basically your brother.”

Abigail shrugged. “The sibko is different from what you freebirths call family. But yes, we coupled. I coupled with many of my sibkin in our sibko days. We all grew up together, and once we reached a certain age where hormones and desires manifested themselves, it was only natural for us to explore them. You have a brother, did you and he not couple when you were first coming of age?”

Fiona blinked, wide-eyed at the clanner. “Um…no. First, he is a couple of years older than me, and second….he’s my brother. That’s just….just no.”

Abigail looked confused. “Then where did you explore that part of growing up?”

Fiona shrugged. “Um...school, clubs, anywhere but with a relative? There are so many things wrong with that. Accidents happen, what happens if you get pregnant? Then it’s just gross.”

Abigail, chuckled. “Your language is slipping, surat. And that is not a possibility anyway. I do not understand the exact science of it, but we trueborns are artificially created, there is no chance of offspring coming naturally from two trueborns, we are beyond that. Think of it as a genetically modified plant engineered for greater yield, they do not sow seeds on their own and reproduce, they must be farmed.”

Fiona nodded. “So you trueborns are sterile?”

Abigail shrugged again. “I am no geneticist. It is simply the way of things. We are not totally sterile, it is not unheard of for a trueborn to sire children with lower caste freebirth women. It is vile and obscene, but it happens.”

Fiona raised an eyebrow. “You trueborns are so repulsed by procreation, yet that is your ultimate goal, is it not?”

Abigail nearly spat. “Neg! I have less than no desire to carry a freebirth child in me.”

Fiona shook her head. “No, that is not what I mean. You may not want to have a child, but you do want your genes to go on to the next generation, quiaff? You may want a scientist to do it in a lab, but you still want to procreate just the same. That is the whole point of a Bloodname, quiaff?”

Abigail waved her hand dismissively. “That is a vile comparison, totally not the same thing. Do not speak of a bloodname in such a ugly terms. The sacred gene pool and the breeding program is efficient and successful, not vile and dirty. Besides, you cannot tell me that as a warrior you would want yourself to be hindered by some parasite living in your belly and sucking its life blood out of you, quineg?”

“Well no, I do not wish to have a child. But my experience among freeborns in the Inner Sphere is that sometimes that changes later in life. Here among the clans, when I die, nothing of me will live on other than my deeds. I am comfortable with that now, but I am not so bold as to say it will always be so.”

Abigail shook her head. “As a clan warrior, it must be. You are a warrior for life. There is no time to bear freebirth children.”

Fiona nodded. “Do not worry, I am content. How did we ever get on this topic of discussion?”

“I was speaking foolishness about my sibko days.”

Fiona smiled. “It is not foolishness. I enjoy hearing about such things. It helps me to understand better what it means to be Clan. Where is your sibkin Mordechai now?”

Abigail shrugged. “I have no idea. I have had no contact with him since a few days after our trial, when he informed me of his posting to the scientist caste. I would imagine he is at some research outpost or other, conducting  agricultural research or overseeing some mundane crop project or other.”

“You never sought him out?”

She shook her head. “Neg. What would be the point? We have very different lives now. Neither of us would understand the other. Your sibling at least is a warrior, you share some understand of each other’s lives.”

There was a familiar voice from beyond the firelight. “Sitting and talking of failed sibkin and reminiscing of olden days? I had not thought you such a romantic, Abigail.” 

The two women scrambled to their feet to greet Lovvins as he walked into the light of the fire. “Star Commander, we did not expect you, you sent no word of your impending arrival. How did you find us at such a remote location?”

“A simple check of records saw you had logged transport, I merely queried the vehicle's transponder. Once I saw this location, I knew you must have come to the site of your initial trial. I thought maybe you would be talking of old battles or some such.”

Abigail shrugged. “It has been a rambling conversation. But enough of our banter. You are back. You have news, quiaff?”

His expression soured. “Aff, but do not get your hopes up. The news I have is mostly disappointing.”

Abigail threw her arms up. “We know of the results of the election and the elevation of the warden Ulric to the position of ilKhan. But even with the election of a Warden, the invasion must continue, quiaff?”

He nodded and continued. “Aff. But our news is mixed. The positive is that we three are to remain posted together.”

Abigail slapped Fiona on the shoulder. “That is good news, surat. I can show you how to properly wield an omnimech.” She turned back towards Lovvins. “You imply bad news. How bad can it be? We are to return to the invasion corridor, quiaff?”

“Aff, but our assignment is an insulting one. Galaxy Commander Angeline Mattlov has pulled her strings and had her vengeance on us. We are to be assigned to the Falcon Guards.”

Abigail spat “Savashri! That cannot be. There must be some mistake. After all, freebirths may not serve in the Falcon Guards, so it cannot be, quineg?”

Lovvins shook his head. “Aff, it can be. That is how far the Guards have fallen.”

Fiona interjected. “I do not understand. The Falcon Guards are a storied unit, quiaff? They are a frontline unit in the Jade Falcon Galaxy. What is the problem?”

Lovvins sighed. “The problem is that they were destroyed in disgrace. A lone Inner Sphere warrior demolished a canyon and all but obliterated the entire unit. The survivors were all sent to other units in disgrace. There was talk of not even reviving the unit, but the saKhan has had another idea. It will become a cesspool cluster for misfits and dezgra malcontents. They will allow freebirths, the old, the insubordinate. There will be a Falcon Guards because there must be, but it will be a garbage heap, a killer of careers.”

There was silence for a moment. Then Fiona spoke up. “You are looking at it the wrong way. This is a great opportunity.”

Lovvins shook his head. “I have come to respect you, Fiona, but you do not understand the situation. This will be a horde of malcontents and misfits to be scorned.”

She looked back and forth between the two dejected warriors. “No, seriously, do neither of you read? Or watch holos? This is like one of the biggest tropes there is. The team of cast-offs and misfits overcomes all odds to achieve victory in some unorthodox way? The Mighty Ducks, Star Wars, The Gray Death Legion, the Kathil Uhlans? None of this rings a bell?”

Abigail chimed in. “There is little time on the road to becoming a warrior for literature or holodramas or anything of the sort.”

“Well trust me, it is a thing. The rag-tag band of cast-offs and misfits bands together to find unity and show everyone how wrong they were. It’s perfect!”

Lovvins gave her an exasperated look. “You simply do not understand. This assignment is a death sentence for careers.”

She stepped forward with resolve. “Neg. It is you who do not understand. This is an opportunity. You wanted me as a bondsman because I see the unorthodox, the Inner Sphere way of thinking. Well you got me, so use me. This is a frontline assignment, in a unit that they will probably throw at impossible tasks in an attempt to rid themselves of us. We turn that into a weapon. We use the opportunity they wasted, we fight, we win, and we laugh at their ignorance. We become the best we can and we soak up every ounce of lost glory that those fools ignored. Quiaff?”