Abigail slammed her fist down on Joanna's desk. "I demand that we settle things in a circle of equals, old woman! Your underhanded tactics may work on that sad collection out there, but I am a trueborn Jade Falcon warrior in her prime. I will not suffer this indecency any longer."

        Joanna, who had not looked up from her desk until now, sat back in her chair and laughed. Abigail, who had returned to standing at attention, did not know what to make of Joanna's reaction. Her first instinct was to jump over the desk and strangle the aging freebirth, but she knew she could not do so without cause, and held herself back. 

        After a time, Joanna stood and walked around the desk so she was beside Abigail. "You, eyas, have barely seen any fighting, and yet you wish to think of yourself as better than the rest of the Falcon Guards? You hold yourself above that so called 'sad collection' out there, but they have seen more battles than you can dream of. They may not be the best example of Jade Falcon warriors, but I intend to shape them into that."

        She paused for a moment to somehow look down on Abigail, in spite of Abigail's height advantage over the falconer. "But you, eyas, do you wish to know what I see when I look at you? You want me to see the proud, arrogant Jade Falcon warrior you pretend to be, but I see through that and I see weakness. You and your little pet freebirth, what a nice couple you make. You rush to her defense like some freebirth lower caste lover. I have no doubt that you probably couple like some revolting freebirth family. Perhaps that is where you belong, you could be a happy little family, producing offspring like rabbits for the lower castes. Perhaps you can share the duties of suckling the little whelps, you both have the chest of a mother...

        Finally Abigail snapped and yelled in rage, swinging with all her might at Joanna. The veteran Falconer was ready for the blow and blocked it,and the two locked gazes with their eyes mere centimeters apart. "Good. You are not such a lover of freebirths after all that you can stand revulsion and obscenity. I was right, I have seen your weakness. You are a trueborn Clan warrior. Start acting like one. Cast off friendship or whatever else you are feeling and be a warrior. Any other attachments are a stone around your neck. You know I am correct."

        Abigail broke the deadlock first, then pounded her fist into the wall with rage. "Damn you, old woman!" and with that she stormed out. She knew she tersely brushed or bumped a number of lower caste workers as she made her way toward the exit, but she did not care. She was angry, frustrated, and confused, and she had no clear way to straighten it all out.

        She came upon members of her Trinary, apparently getting ready for some kind of meeting, and she saw the last person she wanted to see at the moment break off from the group and walk towards her. Sensing her obvious discomfort, Fiona instinctively made her way to her friend, but Abigail was in no mood.

        "Abigail, what is wrong? We have a trainary meeting in ten minutes, are you alright?"

        Abigail said nothing and kept walking. Fiona followed hurriedly. "Abigail, what is wrong? Can I-"

        At that, Abigail stopped and faced Fiona. "Leave me alone, freebirth! I have a great deal on my mind."

        Fiona recoiled. "You have not called me freebirth in a long time. What is wrong? Perhaps I can help."

        Abigail stood for a moment, the unconscious insult toward her friend giving her pause. She tried to collect her thoughts. "I am sorry, surat. I am upset and it just came out."

        Fiona grabbed her shoulder. "I understand. I really do not care. But I see that you are upset and I want to help."

        Abigail shook her head. "Neg, surat. I must figure this problem out on my own."

        As a total aside, I'll say a few words on the configuration of Fiona's Hellbringer, which I settled on so I can bring the character into tabletop play. Armor is stock (which is yuck, but what can you do), movement is 5/8/4, I resisted trying to tweak out things to try to get a fifth jump jet to give the mech a more rough, slapped together feel. For weapons, there's an ER Large and an ER Medium in each arm, plus one ER Medium in the left torso. The streak-6 is downgraded to an SRM-6, the AMS moved from the head to the right torso along with it's ammo. ECM, Active Probe, and Targeting Computer are all intact, and 4 extra heat sinks round the beast out.

        Fiona was awakened after far too few hours of sleep by a knocking on her door. "That better either be the ilKhan himself or news that we are ready to jump to Terra. Otherwise I'm going back to sleep," she grumbled.

        The door swung open throwing light all over the room. "I am afraid I am neither, surat. But you must get up all the same. Let this be a lesson to you about poking around inside a mech all day with freebirth techs."

        Fiona didn't bother to aim, but simply hurled a pillow in Abigail's general direction. "You still often conveniently forget that I am freeborn."

        The pillow came flying back, it's aim more true. "I never forget, surat. But you are different from the dirty masses of freebirths everywhere. You at least try to overcome the accident of your birth. Most of them revel in it. But enough of this nonsense. Get up and get dressed. The entire unit is to assemble for some kind of review before the Star Colonel. Apparently we are to review by trinary, so we of Trinary Delta have a little more time, but hurry all the same. We want to make a good impression, especially amongst this miserable lot."

        

        Half an hour later, the two were making their way towards the tarmac. In spite of the fact that it was apparently some kind of review, they were all told to wear standard field uniforms. Both women had pulled their hair back into tight ponytails. Fiona voiced her unease first. "This seems strange. Why now, of all times, for a review? Why by Trinary? and Why are we not in dress uniform?"

        Abigail shrugged. "I  do not know, surat. I asked Lovvins about it, and it seems that for now only the Mechwarriors have been summoned. I then asked our Star Captain about it, and she was evasive, speaking only of rumors. Apparently, ours was the last batch to arrive, including replacements for two imbeciles that killed each other in a Trial of Grievance. One of those replacements is apparently the pet of the Star Colonel or some such, and is going to be our unit 'Falconer' to whip the unit into shape. Personally, I have my doubts about it all, the Star Colonel included."

        Fiona smiled. "I can see why, a Trueborn consorting with freeborns, scandalous, quiaff?"

        Abigail gave her a sidelong glance. "There are times, surat, that you make me long for the days when I could punish you with impunity. Your sarcasm dropped off noticeably at the end of that period. It is returning now that you are a warrior."

        They exited the main building and walked out towards the tarmac. Greeting them, though walking in the opposite direction, was a ragtag lot of warriors, some walking, some stumbling, and most sporting wounds of some kind. They looked more like a group flooding out of a bar after a full on barroom brawl than a Trinary of Clan warriors. Fiona and Abigail looked at each other and shared a concerned glance.

        They made their way to the tarmac, and within a moment, the other mechwarriors of the group had assembled. Fiona hadn't really had much of a chance to meet her trinary comrades until now, and what she saw was less than encouraging. Having so recently gone through the process of raising herself to the standards of a clan warrior, she was acutely aware that most of these specimens fell short. Most were old. Some were even overweight. Their Star Captain was an almost frail woman, so much so that Fiona pondered if she could have bested the woman in combat even before her Clan re-training.

        "This is pathetic. Are you Clan warriors or eyases fresh from the nest that you stand around like a mob? Neg, you are too old and decrepit to be eyases. Form even ranks, you slovenly scum!" The words came from the older of a pair of warriors who strode towards the group as if they meant to kill the lot of them.

        The contrast in the pair was striking. The Star Commander of the group was old. Fiona still hadn't gotten used to judging age among Clan warriors, but this woman, whose uniform marked her as trueborn, was definitely older than the norm. She seemed even older than Abner and Star Colonel Pryde. Yet her build and bearing defied her obvious age. She walked prouder than the haughtiest of young warriors Fiona had seen, and her frame, while thin, was still muscular and strong.

        If the Star Commander was old, her companion was the opposite. This woman was tall, lithe, and beautiful. Fiona had early on catalogued Abigail as the most totally beautiful woman she had ever met, and their time together, even the harsh times, had never changed that assessment in her mind. The woman who accompanied the Star Commander came in a very close second. Fiona noted that her insignia marked her as Freeborn, but everything else marked her as the perfect clan warrior. And she was far younger than the Star Commander, most likely closer to Abigail and Fiona in age. If the woman had not looked as if she were ready to kill the entire group on the spot, Fiona might have summoned the courage to ask the woman to couple.

        "NOW!" the older warrior barked. So fierce was her tone that none of the fifteen assembled mechwarriors questioned her further, and they quickly formed into three ranks of five. The two unfamiliar warriors stood next to each other in rigid stance, as the older woman barked out instructions. She identified herself as a Star Commander Joanna, and informed the group that she had been appointed by the Star Colonel as their Falconer. The standards of the unit were lacking, she said, and that was all going to change from this moment forward. She started by outlining a strict regimen of calisthenics that they would begin, starting immediately. One of the mechwarriors made a crude remark, and without warning or hesitation, Joanna stormed into the ranks and knocked the offender unconscious. "Are there any further objections to the training process?"

        The stunned group said nothing, and Star Commander Joanna began barking out instructions. Nothing was too complicated, it was simply a regimen of basic exercises. The state of the unit was what made the request so problematic. Within the first 5 minutes, several of the unit had dropped out, collapsing or stopping and being punished severely by Star Commander Joanna and her aide. After ten minutes, only four of the mechwarriors remained. After fifteen, it was only Fiona and Abigail.

        To Fiona, it was nothing new. This was simply a rehash of what Abigail had put her through in their early moments. But the others, other than Abigail, had simply faltered. Some had just quit, in spite of the beatings from Joanna and her assistant. In the end, it was her and Abigail, pushing forward trying to keep up with Joanna's commands.

        They were winning, she could feel it. They kept going where Joanna expected them to fail. Every muscle in her body screamed in pain, but Joanna's insults kept her going. When she felt like giving up, she glanced to her side and saw her friend in just as much pain and distress as she was, yet continuing on.

        Joanna had them doing Burpees, and in her mind, Fiona was trying to decide which muscle was going to fail on her first. Joanna stood inches from her, inspecting every move and hurling the occasional insult, as her assistant stood by Abigail. She felt a slight spasm in her arm muscles as she completed the push-up, deciding that her arms were probably what would give out first. She returned back to the squatting position and lunged upward with all the strength she could muster, determined not to show any weakness.

        It was at that moment, just after her feet left the ground, that Joanna struck. The older warrior whipped her leg out with a speed that belied her age and delivered a kick that swept Fiona's legs out from under her. In spite of the shock, she tried to react and brace herself as she fell to the ground backwards, but her arms failed her and her head and shoulders impacted on the tarmac with an audible smack.

        Stars swam in her eyes as her vision blurred and distorted. She heard words from Joanna but their meaning did not register. She was then aware of two Joannas leaning over her, and as the two images merged back into one, words began to register. "Clumsy freebirth, you should know when your body is fatigued and prepare for it, not flop on the ground like some circus performer. Get up, filth. Neg, do not get up, you are done. You have failed, lay there like a stunned surat!"

        At the last word, she heard a scream of rage and Abigail flew over her and tackled the Star Commander. Fiona managed to roll her head to the side to witness the ensuing fracas, albeit from a strange perspective. Abigail took quick advantage of her initiative and rained several blows down on the hapless Falconer. But Abigail was as exhausted as Fiona was, and after the first few blows, Joanna had recovered her wits and turned the tables. From then, it was only a matter of seconds before Joanna was atop Abigail, shoving her face to the tarmac. Then Joanna grabbed Abigail in a choke hold.

        As Abigail's body went limp, Fiona struggled to her feet and staggered towards the two combatants. Joanna let Abigail's body fall to the ground like dead weight, and strode vengefully towards Fiona. As she made a feeble attempt at a punch, Fiona noted the sense of intense rage in Joanna's eyes. It was her last thought before the older woman's fist struck her on the side of the head, and she collapsed, twisting, to the ground, unconscious.

        Her next memory was of a medic shining a light into her eyes. A few more tests and she was sent packing with a diagnosis of a moderate concussion and some painkillers to take the edge off of the fact that she felt like she had been run over by an Atlas. She was discharged at the same time as Abigail, and the two made their way back to the barracks together. Abigail had insisted that Fiona stay the night in her quarters, as she should not be alone with a concussion.

        As they stripped off their jumpsuits, the toll of the day was shown  in cuts and bruises starting to form. "You did not have to fight her, you know. She is just trying to provoke us."

        Abigail waived her hand dismissively. "Of course I did. I know she was trying to provoke us, but that does not mean I must stand by and watch treachery unfold. She is using underhanded tactics to get the results she wants. Just because we are better than the rest of that rabble out there. I wish to wring the life from her ancient neck in a circle of equals."

        Fiona shook her head. "You tried that, it did not seem to work."

        Abigail scoffed. "That was no circle of equals, that was a knee jerk reaction, and I was worn out, you know that. I could pummel her on an even footing."

        Fiona sat down on the bed. "I know that. But that is a discussion for some other time. For now, we must simply be the best we can. That witch is not going anywhere, and I will be damned if I let her get the better of me. Now, come over here and make sure I do not die in my sleep, quiaff?"

        Fiona dropped her gear bag in her small quarters. They were musty, that was the first thing she noticed. The bed creaked like an antique. There were no windows, and she was dubious of the functionality of the single air vent in the room. Everything on Mudd Station had a kind of damp, slimy feel to it, and her quarters were no sanctuary against that feeling.

        In spite of that, she found herself feeling good about her conversation with the unit commander. There was nothing concrete about this Aidan Pryde, but at the very least, he seemed fair, and she dared to hope that his reputation for being unorthodox would translate well into the units fortunes going forward.

        She started unpacking her relatively few belongings, mostly uniforms and such. Truth be told, she hadn't had many possessions with her on Anywhere either. Since leaving home on New Ivaarsen, there had never really been anyplace that felt like home. Mudd Station was certainly not going to be it, that much she knew, even if, in some ways, her little band of friends and allies was starting to feel like family.

        There was a knock at the door, and she bid the person to enter. What came through the door was a scrawny little wisp of a girl dressed in baggy, oversized coveralls that were dirty and stained with what looked and smelled like grease, coolant, and who knows what else. Before her time in the clan, Fiona had been scrawny, but at least she had been tall and lithe. This girl had neither height nor bulk and simply looked frail and fragile. Her light brown hair was swept back away from her face in a short ponytail, and her one cheek and forehead sported smudges similar to that of her coveralls. 

        She thrust a bony hand in Fiona's direction. "Hi there!. My name's Maddie. I'm assigned to be your tech here in the Falcon Guards."

        Fiona shook her hand, which was predictably slick with some kind of grime. She glanced at the collar of the girl's coveralls, which sported the insignia of an astech, as well as marking her as freeborn. "I am Mechwarrior Fiona, pleased to meet you. I was not aware I had a tech assigned to me."

        As their grip broke, the girl wiped her hand on her coveralls and smiled sheepishly, almost blushing. "Sorry about my state. I've been working on your mech all morning, but when the senior tech mentioned that you had arrived, I wanted to meet you. We'll probably be spending a lot of time together getting your mech outfitted at first."

        Fiona waved her hand. "There is no need to apologize. I am grateful for your efforts. I was not aware I had even been assigned a mech yet. I only recently finished meeting with the Star Colonel."

        The girl fumbled through her many pockets and retrieved a small, heavy-duty noteputer, flipped it on, and handed it over to Fiona. "Yep, there you go. Mechwarrior Fiona, that's you, and Hellbringer 1056AH5GHK, that's your ride. She's a little banged up right now, but we'll get that fixed in no time. I've already started some basics. I figure you're probably really stoked, there's not many freeborns get to pilot a frontline omni."

        She knew the basic specs of the Hellbringer class of omnimech, and gave the noteputer a cursory glance before handing it back to the girl. "I will pilot whatever I am assigned to. If you do not mind my asking, you seem rather....young."

        Maddie shoved her hands in her pockets and shrugged. "Maybe a little, this is my first assignment. I just turned eighteen last month. But I know my stuff, I promise. Both of my parents are techs, and I was crawling inside mechs ever since I could walk. Of course, my parents worked mainly on second-line mechs, we bounced around different PGC's most of my growing up. But I passed my exams with top marks, and I even volunteered for the Falcon Guards to get assigned to a front-line combat unit. Not many freeborns in the unit, warrior or tech. Most of the techs here are old wash-ups. I guess they assigned me to you since we're both freeborn. There aren't many freeborns in the unit, mostly desperate ones looking for a last shot at combat. You don't seem to fit that description though."

        Fiona chuckled. "Neg, my curse lies elsewhere. I am here mostly because my bondholder at the time embarrassed a Galaxy Commander."

        Maddie's eyes went wide with enthusiasm. "You were a bondsman? So you're not Falcon born? What clan are you from? You don't talk like a Falcon freeborn."

        Fiona smiled. "That is because I was not born into a clan. I am originally from the Inner Sphere. I was captured in the first wave of the invasion."

        Maddie seemed awestruck. "Wait, you're a Spheroid? No way! Have you been to Terra? What is it like there?"

        Fiona held up a hand to pause the girl's rambling. "Neg, I have never been to Terra. I grew up in the Federated Suns. But that is beside the point. There is plenty of time later for chatting. You said you were working on my mech. Can we go see it and go over its state of readiness?"

        Maddie nodded. "We can go over her with a fine tooth comb if you want. You'll probably want to change. I'll get back to work and you can swing by when you're ready? She's in slot twenty-six in the mechbay."

        Twenty minutes later, Fiona had changed into coveralls and made her way to the mechbay. She now stood in front of slot twenty-six and looked up at a wreck. The basic Hellbringer silhouette was there in terms of legs and torso, but the mech lacked the critical component of arms. The torso armor had clearly been freshly replaced, as it was not even primed in grey. The head looked relatively unscathed. The legs sported pockmarks in the armor and a few laser burns. But the arms both sported nothing but small nubs that were black with laser scoring.

        Maddie popped around from behind one of the legs. "Hey, glad you're here. You want the rundown?"

        Fiona glanced up at the mech and shrugged. "Aff. Why not."

        Maddie walked over and stood beside her, gesturing up to the mech. "Well, you can see, she got trashed pretty bad by her previous owner. Not sure if they even survived. I'm pretty sure it was an LB-X flechette that pierced the cockpit. AMS was torn clean off too. Both arms totally ripped off. Same with the Streak rack in the torso. Good news is that the engine and gyro are untouched, same with the Targeting Computer, the ECM suite and the Active probe. So you've basically got a mostly intact legs and torso, and a rebuilt head. I finished a respec on the cockpit, and it's ready to go."

        Fiona ran her mind over all the info, looking over the mech in front of her. "Keep in mind, I am new to all of this, but my understanding is that omnimechs are modular. Can you not simply fit two new arm pods on and the mech will be ready to go?"

        "Yes, in theory. There are a few problems with that though. First, I haven't looked to see if the pod locking mechanism or coupler are damaged. It might be harder than you think to get those damaged nubs off. Secondly, there are no Hellbringer prime arm pods available. We'll have to either figure out some other combination of Hellbringer arm pods that we do have, or else use something else compatible."

          Fiona stared up at the mech with her hands on her hips. "What are the options?"

          Maddie shrugged. "Depends on if you want to keep the torso roughly in prime config. There's a couple of Timber Wolf prime arms handy. If you pull a couple of the mediums out of the torso then you're neutral in terms of balance, and you're ahead of the game in terms of tonnage. You could bulk up on heat sinks."

          Fiona nodded. "How hard would it be to mount jump jets?"

          Maddie thought for a moment. "Harder in the torso than the legs. I'd have to tear off the A-pods, but that would be easier than trying to get the torso balanced with the current heat sink layout."

          She raised an eyebrow. "What are A-pods?"

          Maddie pointed to a pair of bulging plates on either leg. "Anti-personnel pods. Basically one shot anti-infantry weapons. There's a charge behind those plates, and the plate itself is designed to fracture into small shards to throw out a cloud of shrapnel. Brutal against infantry, not so much when it comes to BattleArmor. But they're easy to pop off, and mounting leg jets is pretty simple. Of course you can only mount two in each leg, so you're looking at like 120 meter jump distance."

        Fiona nodded and smiled. "That sounds like a plan. That would give me about the same lift and distance as I am used to."

        Maddie bobbed her head eagerly. "Alright. I'll see what I can cook up. You can poke around a bit if you want, otherwise, I'll let you know when she's ready."

        Fiona turned to Maddie. "Actually, I was hoping that I could help you out with some of the work."

        Maddie shrugged. "Not many warriors work on their own machines much, especially in frontline units. But if you want to, I'll sure take the help."

        Fiona nodded. "I am not sure how much help I will be, but I will try. I have no experience with omnimech technology, so I'd like to get at least a basic working knowledge."

        Maddie grinned. "By the time we're done, you'll be able to fix her yourself."

        Nearly fourteen hours later, Fiona was starting to doubt her decision. They had just finished locking down the connections on the second arm, which had given them fits removing the old damaged pieces, then more fits trying to attach the new pod. The arms were basically the final piece of the puzzle. They had started off tearing out components, re-routing conduits and feeds, swapping hardpoints out, and ensuring the torso was laid out the way they wanted it. They were both filthy dirty from climbing around, over, and inside the guts of the mech. Very early on, she had developed an appreciation for what an advantage Maddie's diminutive size granted her in maneuvering around the cramped inner workings of the mech.

        Maddie looked over the mech with pride. "It's going to be a day or two before the new AMS module comes in, but that's about all that's left of the heavy lifting. Tomorrow I'll set up the software interface and align the gyro, but I always like to do the real techy stuff when I'm fresh. So, working on a mech, is it all you thought it would be?"

        Fiona rubbed her sniff neck with a grimy hand. "I knew it was an intensive process, but it is entirely different first hand. I think I will sleep better tonight than I have in ages, that much is for sure."

        Maddie nodded eagerly. "A word of advice though? If you don't want to smell like coolant and mech-grade lubricant for a week, shower before you hit the rack. You'll thank me later." 

        Mudd Station certainly was an apt name for the dismal facility they found themselves assigned to. The aging Confederate dropship had grounded at the landing pad of the facility, but that fact was hard to discern from the way the rain and wind hammered the ship even upon landing. It was rare for weather to affect a dropship so much, and the captain of the ship had even advised them against leaving the ship for their barracks until the storm itself passed.

        After an hour or so, the storm had subsided, and the captain opened the bay door and lowered the ramp. As they made their way down the ramp and onto the tarmac, what they saw was not encouraging. The landscae was bleak, to say the least, and anywhere not paved was a puddle or a patch of mud. Even some of the paved areas sported puddles.

        The personnel were not much of an improvement. Most of the people seemed to simply wander, as if they had no real purpose. In all her time among the clans, Fiona had never seen such a motley collection of warriors. Most were old by clan standards, and if she was honest, even by inner sphere standards for their rank at times. Some of them she guessed to be in their forties or fifties. She had never guessed that such a thing as an overweight clan warrior existed, but the proof was sauntering by her repeatedly.

        Lovvins shook his head dejectedly. "This is the group that we are supposed to pin our hopes for redemption on? I fear you are seriously misguided, bondsman."

        She shrugged, which was an effort with her gear bag over her shoulder. "You have not called me that in some time. And it is no longer appropriate. I am not a bondsman."

        He shook his head. "Aff, I misspoke. But the reality is the same. Look at these fossils. This is not a unit, it is a graveyard."

        She touched his arm. "Only if we allow it to be. This is what we make of it."

        Abigail spoke up. "That is surat shit. Look at these degenerates. They are lazy, slovenly, old, hell, some of them are even all of the above and freebirth to boot. This is hopeless."

        They entered the barracks facility, a musty old building that seemed to have more leaks than redeeming qualities. They made their way first to Lovvins'  room, where they all dropped their gear, and Fiona slammed the door shut.

        "This is pathetic. You two, who held me up and urged me to something better through all of my rough times, and now you whine like civilian caste bureaucrats sent to an assignment they do not like." She turned to Abner. "And you, of all people, I expected support in this from you, but you remain silent like a mute animal. All of you, we are better than this. We are clan. We are more than that, we are Jade Falcon. Does the Jade Falcon mope because of the weather, or some poor circumstance? No, it goes on the hunt. It sharpens it's talons and it kills. I do not care if the whole of the Falcon Guards collapse around us, we will stand proud. Quiaff?" She smacked Lovvins in the chest. "Quiaff!?"

        They all nodded their agreement. Just then, her communicator lit up. She picked it up and read the message.She read it twice to confirm.

        Abigail spoke up. "What is it, surat?"

        She looked up. "It seems the commander wants to speak with me."

        Lovvins shrugged. "I know nothing of this Aidan Pryde beyond the basic dossier. His taint is that he posed as a freebirth to achieve warrior status, then fought trials of refusal to earn his right to a bloodname.It would seem to indicate he is somewhat progressive among our clan, but be cautious."

        A short time later, she found herself in the office of their Star Colonel, Aidan Pryde. He looked slightly older and more seasoned than some of the Star Colonels she had seen, but yet still younger than a good chunk of the Falcon Guards she had seen so far. He was tall and lean, but his handshake, which surprised her even in it's offering, was strong. After shaking her hand he returned to his side of the desk, and she returned to her best attention posture. She didn't quite know why she wished to make a good impression, but for some reason she felt it mattered.

        "You may stand at ease, Mechwarrior.." She relaxed slightly, but still tried to stand tall and proud. He gestured to another older warrior, probably roughly the same age as Pryde, though looking a great deal rougher and whose insignia marked him as a freeborn. "This is my aide, Mechwarrior Horse."

        She nodded deferentially. Aidan Pryde paused for a moment, looking her up and down with a look in his eyes as if he were mulling over some decision. She tried not to let his gaze affect her or show any sign of anxiety. Finally he spoke up again. "You probably are wondering why I asked you here, especially before any of the others that arrive with you." He stopped for a moment, but she did not feel comfortable interjecting, and he continued. "I really only have one question for you, Mechwarrior Fiona. Why are you here?"

        She paused, took a deep breath, and raised an eyebrow. "I was assigned to the Falcon Guards, Star Colonel." She thought of saying more, but held back.

        He leaned back in his chair, in a casual and authentic way that she had not seen in many trueborn clanners in formal situations. "Yes, I am aware of all that, I have received all the paperwork and transfer orders. But that is not the heart of my question. Why are you here?"

        She paused, confused. " I am not sure how to answer your question, Star Colonel. Indeed, I am not sure if I even understand it."

        He sighed. "I am aware of the hearsay and rumors surrounding the rebuilding of the Falcon Guards, and I am most aware of the stigma attached to the unit. But even so, while my assignment of personnel was varied and colorful, it was initially, nonetheless, all trueborn. A spattering of freeborns have trickled in since then, but most of them are veterans, often seeking a last shot at combat. You come to us not even blooded in combat, and from the Inner Sphere, no less. So I must ask why it is that you were assigned here?"

        She paused carefully before responding, taking in his words carefully. Of particular note, he had called her freeborn and not freebirth, a small distinction but one that carried great weight in clan society. "I am not sure that I have a clear answer for you, Star Colonel. My orders were not explained to me. I would point out, however, that I am not, as you say, unblooded in combat. Aff, I have not seen combat in the service of the clan since my trial of position, but I have seen combat. Indeed, I have, not counting my trial, bested trueborn clan warriors twice in single combat in Battlemechs, and once in physical combat in a trial of refusal." She glanced over at Horse. "And I would point out that your own aide is freeborn, Star Colonel, as is one of the warriors who traveled here with me, so it is not out of place in this unit."

        Pryde almost chuckled. "You speak boldly for a bondsman barely out of the nest. The truth of the matter is I had to fight to have Mechwarrior Horse assigned to this unit. Perhaps he was the crack in the dam. But that still does not explain away the fact that you are out of the ordinary." He smirked. "You even try to speak more like a trueborn than most freeborns I have encountered."

        She nodded slightly. "Speaking candidly, sir, I realize that I will always be judged by my birth and origins within the clan. But I am a warrior and this is where circumstances have landed me. I realize I must hold myself to a higher standard even to break even, but I suspect you know that even better than I do. But nonetheless, all I know how to do is to do my best. The rest is out of my control."

        He paused for a moment, scratching the stubble of his beard. "All of that may be true, but it still does not answer why you are here. What singled you out?"

        She inhaled deeply. "Truth be told, Star Colonel, I think that I would likely not be here but for my association.  You know I am a former bondsman. Early in the invasion, my bondholder allowed me to view a batchall for one of the invasion targets. I provided him with information about what I saw, which he passed along to Galaxy Commander Angeline Mattlov and she chose to ignore. The attack met with problems due to her ignoring of my warning. This caused her to see me, my bondholder, and my warning as a mark of her failure, and so she schemed to put us out of sight as soon as she could, which was our assignment here to the Falcon Guards. It is un-clanlike, but it is the truth. You may ask any of my fellow arrivals and they will tell you it is true."

        He sat silent for a moment, as if taking in what she had said and weighing it against other testimony. "You are making excuses?"

        She purposely bristled and puffed her chest out at the insult. "Neg, Star Colonel. Excuses are not the way of the clans. All I seek is a chance to prove my true worth. You, of all people, understand this, quiaff?"

        He paused for a moment, almost as if laughing at himself. "Aff, Mechwarrior.....Aff......"

        "Tap out, freebirth, the victory is mine!"

        Abner struggled against the hold he was pinned in, but he knew it was hopeless. Blood trickled from his nose and plopped in mocking droplets on the deck plate. His head throbbed from smacking against the very same deck mere minutes before. He tapped his one moderately free hand on the deck. 

        "Aff, I submit."

        The fight had been a disappointment. At the very least, it had been painful. Somehow, Fiona had managed to convince Star Commander Lovvins that a trial of grievance was necessary to resolve the massive rift between Abner and Abigail. The venue had been chosen as the mech bay, and the fight was to be unaugmented.

        At first, Abner had been loathe to participate, but he quickly realized the fact that there had to be some kind of catharsis in order to resolve things. He knew what the problem was, he simply had no idea how to resolve it without some kind of conflict. And he wasn't even sure that conflict was going to solve anything.

        His plan through the whole thing had been to fight defensively until Abigail's rage was spent, then hopefully some simpler resolution could be found. It wasn't a very clan-like plan, but what was a dirty freebirth to do anyway, he figured.

        He hadn't planned on two things. One was the extent of Abigail's fury and the amount of time it would last. The second was the age gap. He had sorely underestimated how old he felt when going up against a trueborn warrior in her prime. He had handled himself well, but the defense he mounted could only last for so long. Eventually, he wore down, Abigail saw her chance, and like a good Jade Falcon, she struck all the more aggressively.

        All of which led to where he was now, battered fairly badly, bleeding from the nose, and forced to submit. A second or two after his submission, she released her grip and stood. He simply rolled over and sat, dabbing at the blood at his nose. He looked up at her as she stood looking down disparagingly on him with her hands on her hips. She bore a red spot on her cheek where he had managed to sneak in a blow, and he knew that under her tank top were several spots that would grow into fairly significant bruises where he had landed shots to her core. But he had no doubt she would be feeling far better in the morning than he would.

        "So, Miss Trueborn, do you feel better now, having pounded me pretty significantly?"

        She looked at him defiantly, then sighed deeply. "It was invigorating.....but neg, I cannot say that I feel better for it now."

        He got up and walked over to the foot of her Timber Wolf, the only BattleMech on the ship. He sat down on the deck with his back against the inside of the mech's right foot. After a minute or two, Abigail came over and sat mirroring him against the opposite foot. "So, shall we discuss what the issue between us is?"

        She scoffed. "You are an old, filthy freebirth, that is issue enough."

        He shook his head. "No, you don't get off with the standard answers. There's more. You don't like freeborns, I get it, none of you trues do. Except that you do. You guard one like a sister, and hell, you spend plenty of nights with one between your legs. So as canister born go, freeborn is not an issue for you."

        Abigail's nostrils flared in anger. "If I had not just beaten you severely, I would thrash you again, freebirth."

        He threw up his hands. "Hell, beat me ten times, trueborn. But at least tell me the reason for the beatings."

        She balled her fists. "I do not trust you, freebirth. Why are you so invested in Fiona?"

        He cocked his head. "I could ask you the same question, Missie"

        "Neg. I defeated you. As the victor, I deserve the answers."

        He rested his elbows on his knees. "I don't know any of the rites you're claiming, but hey, fair is fair." He paused for a moment before continuing. "We freeborns aren't raised in a sibko like you cannister brats. We volunteer later in life, and from what I gather, the latter stages of training are similar for freeborns and trues. Ours may be a bit harsher, since we're more expendable and all, you understand."

        She rolled her eyes. "Fascinating as this lecture on freeborn training is, what is the point?"

        He let his head sag. "It's harsh training, and you form bonds with those around you. I won't bore you with the details, but I was quite close with girl in my training unit. I don't know how it is for you trues, but for us freeborns in training, everything is on the line, so you latch onto those around you. She and I....we clicked."

        Abigail shook her head impatiently. "Freeborn romance does not interest me."

        He chuckled. "Don't worry then, Miss True, it wasn't love or romance or anything like that. It was just two scared people connecting. But long story short, she found out she was going to wash out and join the technician caste. We said our goodbyes and moved on. I passed my trial of position, and was waiting for assignment to a unit, when I received a random communication from her. She had just given birth to a child. My child."

        Abigail practically spat. "Your disgusting freebirth spawning is revolting. Why are you telling me this?"

        Abner sat silently for a moment, interlocking his fingers as he tried to organize his thoughts. "As you pointed out, I'm a lot older than you guys. My daughter is only slightly younger than you and Fiona. I haven't been anything close to a real father for her, but I have been lucky enough to see her every few years. For whatever reason, she decided some years ago that she wished to follow my lead and become a warrior. I spend a great deal of time worrying about that. I know how hard the struggle was for me, and I could never wish that upon another person, much less someone who I care about and who is of my blood. But it is the path she has chosen. When we arrived at Ironhold, I received a communication from her mother. She has passed her trial and is awaiting assignment to a unit. As a nondescript freebirth, she will likely receive no great assignment, but still...."

        Abigail waved dismissively. "And so you see Fiona as the image of your freebirth daughter. That is disgusting and excessive."

        He struggled to restrain himself. "Neg, that is not the point. I am not confusing her for my daughter. But I do think of my daughter when I see her, and I think, I hope that she has an ally to watch her back. And so I try to be that ally for Fiona. Do you understand that, at least?"

        Abigail shrugged. "You speak like a freebirth, in dirty and disgusting terms. But yes, I believe I understand what you are saying."

        Abner looked up. "So, what about you then, Miss Trueborn? Why are you so invested in a freeborn?"

        Abigail smirked. "What are you talking about, freebirth?"

        He laughed. "You. You treat her like a sister, you have her back, you watch her every move. You guys are thick as thieves."

        She waved his comments aside with a gesture. "What are you implying?"

        He thought long and hard for a moment. "I think you know what I mean. But if you don't, well, that's not my place to say."

        The two of them locked eyes, much being said across the matched gazes without words. "Are we done, freebirth?"

        He wiped the blood from his nose. "I am if you are, Miss Trueborn."