MECHWARRIOR: DARK AGE #24: DRAGON RISING

For a good hour, it sounded like a herd of OmniMechs on a rampage. Heavy feet clomping back and forth that sent showers of dust and grit raining into Viki’s face. They’d ducked into a crawl space secreted beneath the stairs where Katana had ambushed them. The crawl space was dark and very tight but ventilated, so the smell was only musty, not dead.

Lance breathed in wheezy, blubbering snorts. His nose was broken. On the other hand, Viki thought Lance was lucky he wasn’t blowing his nose out the back of his head. Any other guy, Katana would’ve killed him.

‘‘Not much,’’ Katana said. ‘‘I remember the captain shouting something about a hull breach, but I blacked out. Next thing I know, I wake up in a holding cell.’’

She felt Katana’s surprise. ‘‘Yeah, Ghost Clan,’’ Katana said. ‘‘Run by some guy named Eddie Alzubadai. How . . . ?’’

‘‘Shaul Khala, in the New Samarkand District. I got a good long look from the air. Ghost Clan’s got this compound spread over a desert valley surrounded by mountains. Kind of weird. The place is like a bull’s-eye, like it’s daring you to take a shot. I was there about a month.’’

‘‘Mercs and hashashins,’’ Lance snorted, then cleared his throat. ‘‘Assassins,’’ he said more clearly.

A secret society of mercs and assassins? Viki said, ‘‘We’ve been trying to figure out who these guys are. So they’re all Saurimat?’’

‘‘No,’’ Lance said, still stuffy-sounding but clearer than before, so that when he spoke, Viki automatically understood. ‘‘The Ghost Clan’s a splinter group. More like go-to boys.’’

Katana said, ‘‘I figured they were holding me for ransom. Then they started moving me around to different planets. I have no idea why. Things started to deteriorate once we got to Ludwig. Some seemed to be in favor of whatever they were figuring to use me for, but a couple of them talked about how keeping two of us wasn’t the original deal.’’

Viki was instantly alert. ‘‘Two? Do you know who the other person is?’’ He’s got to be alive, or we’re toast.

‘‘No. Anyway, they dropped down to one guard at night. He . . . made a mistake. So, I killed him and took his weapon,’’ Katana said, without a flicker of emotion, as if this were just another tick off the old to-do list: Eat breakfast. Wash dishes. Kill the guard. ‘‘Since then, it’s been cat and mouse. But now I know why they were so torqued. It was because of you. How did you know I was here?’’

Quickly, Viki sketched their mission. ‘‘Lance said these ronin, these Ghost Clan guys, were hitting those clans that have supported you in the past. That’s how Lance and I got involved. We made it to Junction—and walked right into a yakuza free-for-all.’’

Kamikuro’s mansion was palatial—three tiers of bone-white mortar walls and gray-tiled roofs edged with elaborate iron scrollwork. His estate was east of the city and hugged the lakeshore. They’d been shown into Matsuro Kamikuro’s study, virtually unchanged from the last time Viki had visited. But Kamikuro’s sharp gray eyes looked a tad cloudier, his gait just a little slower, and worry lines creased his forehead. Kamikuro’s waka-gashira, Tony Ito, was the same: burly, muscled, his small almond-shaped eyes beetle-bright with suspicion and not a little hostility.

There was one other: a heavy-set man built like a Ryoken , squat, wide. Gray, bushy eyebrows that curled like caterpillars.

Ito got down to brass tacks. ‘‘The other clans, they’re starting to muscle in on our territory. No Sakamoto, it’s a land grab. We started late out of the blocks because our people were fighting for you. Hard to defend territory you don’t got no guys or ships, thanks to you.’’

‘‘Respect,’’ Kamikuro said sternly, and Ito subsided. Kamikuro said to Viki, ‘‘It is not that we are ignorant of the great honor Tai-shu Tormark has bestowed upon us. But we cannot eat honor, nor will that pay the many expenses of our operations. I am being . . . pressured.’’

‘‘He is Mori Nobaru, my saiko-komon.’’ Kamikuro’s smile was almost apologetic. ‘‘Even I must bow to reality.’’

‘‘And high time, too,’’ Nobaru said. In contrast to his great bulk, he had a light, almost effeminate voice. ‘‘We have had more than simple revenue losses. We have endured raids upon our freighters and hits on key personnel clearly organized by other clans.’’

Nobaru’s gaze had sharpened on the smaller man. ‘‘We’ve taken action,’’ he said. ‘‘Some we disciplined.’’

‘‘Well . . . I said that since you clearly had enough cash and materiel to secure a galaxy of Nova Cats, you might be willing to part with more . . .’’

Katana said, loudly, ‘‘What?’’ Then, whispering again, ‘‘Viki! How much?’’ When Viki told her, Katana spluttered, ‘‘Where am I supposed to get that?’’

‘‘I was being creative. I figured maybe we could petition the coordinator, or Theodore. I was thinking on my feet.’’

‘‘No,’’ Viki said, relieved, although the idea had crossed her mind. ‘‘We agreed to a truce and a meeting on Ludwig because it’s neutral territory. Two other clans besides the Ryuu-gami: one from Reisling’s Planet, and the other from Donenac. But no one else showed except Ghost Clan, and that’s when we figured out their real agenda. First, they hit us with you being dead.’’ Viki paused. ‘‘We weren’t exactly prepared.’’

‘‘Yeah.’’ Katana let the silence go for a bit. ‘‘So, what was the real agenda? It wasn’t about the money?’’