Fuhito decided to check the hangars and support buildings for any meager supplies they might provide for the Legion. The "Katana Kat's" jets lifted it from the terminal roof and carried it in a gentle arc thirty meters to the north. The Panther'slegs flexed on contact, easily taking the shock of the landing. Fuhito began his search.
For an hour, the "Kat" strode among the deserted hangars in the failing light. The fenced yards held crates of clothing, chemicals, and consumer goods—nothing of use to the embattled Legion. Using the Panther'sstrength to force open the doors of buildings whose interiors were not already accessible, Fuhito found no booty, not even with the help of the "Kat's" light-amplification circuits.
He had just exited a warehouse showing the logo of Isesaki Shipping when he spotted a small shack bearing a hand-painted placard. The sign displayed twenty-five connected stars in the shape of the Kuritan dragon, the insignia of the technical branch of the Draconis Combine Port Authority.
So ka.Perhaps the Techs had left something behind. Any tools would please Senior Tech Kowalski. Ever since he'd had to abandon his shop at Massingham, he had been repairing 'Mechs with what he referred to as "baling wire and spit." Fuhito didn't know what baling wire was, but he had understood the meaning. Without the proper equipment, even the Senior Tech's technical genius had its limits. Almost half the Legion's 'Mechs were no longer battleworthy. If the Port Authority mechanics had left even a few of the proper tools behind, the Senior Tech might be able to repair another BattleMech or two.
Hopeful yet fearing disappointment, Fuhito opened the "Kat's" cockpit and climbed down. The shadowed air in front of the shack was cool against his bare arms and legs. The scanty shorts and cooling vest were just right in the hot cockpit of a fighting 'Mech, but not enough to keep a senshiwarm in the fall air of a temperate climate zone.
The door was ajar, and Fuhito shouldered it wider open as he entered the building. Switching on the lights, he scanned the debris that littered the interior. The Techs had left in a hurry, no doubt abandoning their barracks when first word of approaching BattleMechs had rippled through the city. He saw no precious tools, but Fuhito did find the chief's duty log open on a table. The last entry was a week old.
He shook his head sadly. The Techs were frightened birds to run so easily before a rumor. Hens before a fox. He laughed humorlessly then, realizing the image would have been more suited to an attack by Davion forces. It was their Prince who was nicknamed "the Fox."
Something had brought that image to mind, and it made him remember his father's admonishments that such flashes could be the voice of spirit, which was quicker and deeper than thought. With a troubled frown, Fuhito scanned the chief's last entry again. Ah, there it was!The first entry on the list of the day's duty read: "Arctic Foxreadiness check."
Fuhito tossed the duty log back onto the table and started to turn away before he remembered what the Arctic Foxwas. He grabbed the log again and flipped rapidly through its pages. There was no location listed.
"Frak!" he said aloud as he slammed the book to the floor. Fuhito knew that the Arctic Foxcould not be in Sitika; it was too large to hide. He rubbed his palm across his chin, thinking furiously. The Elsies didn't have it; they would have cheerfully broadcast the news of its capture or destruction. The Arctic Foxwas still out there somewhere. Even if it were not functional, it would have something for the desperate Legion.
Inspiration struck and Fuhito bent to retrieve the abused log. "Ha!" he shouted in triumph as he located the computer disk nestled in its pocket inside the front cover. The fleeing Techs had not taken the technical data file with them.
Clutching his prize, Fuhito raced outside and scrambled up the waiting Panther.He slid into the cockpit, skinning an elbow in his haste. Dropping into his command couch, he slipped the disk into the "Kat's" computer slot and tapped in the command to list the disk's files. He called for the one labeled "Arctic Fox" as soon as it scrolled onto the screen. Fingers flashing on the keyboard, he skipped through the data, a wide smile growing on his face.
He reached across to the comm board and opened a line to his superior. "Sho-saOlivares, this is Tetsuhara. I have something you need to see."
"What is it?" Olivares growled, his annoyance clear. "I got a lance of Elsie turtles moving around out here."
"This is more important than a few Steiner tanks, Sho-sa."
"So you say, boy. Ain't got no time for nonsense—wait."
Silence fell on the line for five minutes. Obediently, Fuhito waited, but his frustration grew almost unbearable.
"Call me a purple-bottomed Marfik chickenhawk. They're pulling up." Olivares' voice was full of amused surprise. 'They must be gonna let the Samaplay his honor game. Frak! That's got to be the reason they pulled the birds off our heads."
"Then you have the time to see what I've found. The Elsies'll wait till morning."
"All right, all right," Olivares grumbled. "I'll come have a look-see."
27
Sitika County, North Galfree, Marfik
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine
27 September 3028
"Itwould be cowardly to leave."
"It would be foolish to stay," Tomoe snapped.
Eyes narrowed and nostrils distended, Theodore stiffened at her harsh words. Around the chamber, men and women pretended sudden interest in other things: walls, fingernails, folds in their uniforms. Theodore and Tomoe's eyes locked, stubbornness meeting persistence.
The code of bushidodid not allow a commander to run from a hopeless battle, leaving his soldiers to die. All his life, Theodore had wanted to lead Kurita warriors in battle, and here on Marfik, it had finally come to pass. Even hamstrung by poor equipment and lack of supplies, his Legion had given a good account of itself. Now his forces faced the end, despite Theodore's best-laid plans. Bushidodemanded that he face that end with them.
Tomoe stood and stalked to the end of the table, almost out of the circle of light. She stopped there, but did not turn around. Light gleamed from the metal fittings on the bulky shoulders of her cooling jacket, but her anger still showed in the hunch of her shoulders.
"She's right, Sama,"Olivares rumbled. "You do not need to die here."
Heads nodded agreement around the table.
"The Arctic Foxis only a UnionClass DropShip," Theodore protested. "She's not even big enough for the buso-senshiand their 'Mechs. Even if we abandoned all our equipment, we could not cram in the rest of our people. Anyone left behind will be slaughtered by the Lyrans.
"Besides, we have no JumpShip. The Combine navy was chased from the system more than a month ago. We would have no way to leave the system."
"Tai-iKerai said he had a solution to that problem, Tono,"Fuhito offered.