“Because of this failure of judgment and ability, I have no choice but seppuku.There is no other way to restore my honor. In all the time I have known you, friend Wolf, you have understood the demands of honor.”
Minobu searched Wolf's face, but found bleak despair instead of comprehension. There was nothing more to be said. It was nearly sunset, a moment Minobu did not wish to miss on this day.
He leaned away from the wall, bringing his weight back onto his feet. An ache began in his flesh leg as he stepped through the door. The guards started to block his path, but Wolf waved them away. Minobu continued down the corridor unmolested.
At the end of the hallway, there was a small lounge normally used by the soldiers assigned to the barracks in their off-duty hours. It was empty of people. Minobu limped to the transplex pane that looked onto the landing fields where Dragoon 'Mechs were boarding DropShips in the last light of day. He lowered himself into the lotus position and gazed out. The brilliant refractions of light through the layers of ice crystals in the atmosphere was soothing. Reflecting on the transient beauty of nature, he dropped into a light, meditative state.
Back in the small room, Wolf turned his attention to Michi.
“And what about you? Are you going to slit your belly, too?”
“No.”
Wolf seemed surprised at the answer. Michi had not intended to explain anything to the mercenary, but the compelling pressure of Wolf's scrutiny brought words to his lips.
“I will not follow my lord Tetsuhara at this time, for I have work to do. I will avenge my lord on those who trapped him into this dead end.”
Wolf nodded understanding. He thought for a moment before speaking. “If we leave you here, your Kurita masters will have your head. That won't give you what you're looking for. In honor of your lord, I extend my offer to you as well.
Michi bowed. Like Minobu before him, he was tempted. Also like Minobu, he was bound to the path his honor demanded.
“It is not right that I join you while this obligation remains unfulfilled.”
“Who said we'd keep you from fulfilling it? We aren't letting it stop here, you now. We are going to continue to fight Kurita. Samsonov caught some of our people before we could warn them of the change in the rendezvous star system. We want our own revenge.”
“I don't know whether I am pleased to hear you say that,” Michi said. He was still a Kuritan. His quarrel was not with the people of the Combine or the ‘MechWarriors who defended them. They would be the ones facing the Dragoon guns. “Even though you fight my enemies, my place is not at your side.”
Putting his words into action, Michi stepped into the corridor and gazed at the seated figure in the lounge. After a moment, Wolf came to stand beside him.
“What can we do for you then? You can't stay here.”
Michi thought for a few minutes, weighing his few options. No matter which path he chose, he would be outcast. Wolf was right about one thing, though. Any attempt to remain in the Combine was tantamount to suicide. “Let me travel with you to some place where I can begin my quest.”
“That's all you want?” asked Wolf incredulously.
“I cannot ask more.”
“You mean, will not?”
Michi shrugged.
“You're a crazy samurai, Noketsuna, but you've got guts.”
56
Dragoon Base, Farsund, Misery
Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine
27 May 3028
Michi was leaving Minobu's room when Wolf arrived in full-dress uniform, its resplendence a sharp contrast to the mercenary's haggard face. Michi was exhausted as well, but his own uniform, though clean and freshly pressed, did little to disguise the fact. The House Kurita badges had been removed, and he wore a red armband with a black wolf's head to mark his release from captivity. Even though his right arm was still in the sling, a holstered laser pistol rode on his right hip. He bowed to the mercenary Colonel.
“Ohayo,Colonel.”
“Good morning, Michi.”
“I wish to thank you for my parole, Colonel. You are generous to a former enemy.”
“Former is the operative word, Michi.” Wolf nodded his head at the closed door. “Is he in there?”
“Yes, Colonel. He is waiting for you.”
Michi stepped aside and bowed again. Wolf opened the door and entered the room. Michi closed the door behind him.
Seated in lotus position on the bed was Minobu. From somewhere in the nearby city, Michi had acquired the shimmering white silk kimono that he now wore. It shone against his dark skin. His eyes were closed, his face calm, relaxed.
Minobu opened his eyes as Wolf stepped into the room.
“You wanted to see me,” Wolf said.
“Thank you for coming.”
With a wave, Minobu indicated that Wolf should sit in the chair at the bed's end. Wolf ignored the gesture and remained standing.
“Have you changed your mind?” Wolf asked.
“No.”
Minobu raised his hand again to forestall Wolf's objections. “Please, do not argue. There is nothing that you can say to change my mind.
“The points at which this fate might have been averted have come and gone. The road opened when Akuma began his campaign to tie the Dragoons to the Combine. The last chance was lost on your trip to Luthien. After Samsonov received Lord Kurita's haiku,the path to disaster was inevitable.
“It is curious that many links in the chain of events took place in the autumn, for that is the season of changes, is it not?” Minobu paused, not really expecting an answer. Wistfully, he continued, “I had always liked the season of change.”
Minobu could tell that Wolf wanted to say something, but he cut the mercenary off. “I have a favor to ask of you,” Minobu said.
“Name it and it's yours.”
“You agree before knowing what it is?” Minobu gave Wolf a look of mock surprise. “That is not the suspicious Jaime Wolf I have known for years.”
“You would not ask anything that I could not do,” Wolf said with perfect assurance.
Minobu looked up into the gray eyes of the friend who stood before him. His inner senses agreed with what his heart and eyes told him. “You truly believe that.”
“I do.”
“Very well.” As Minobu unwound his legs to stand up, Wolf backed up to give him room in the small space. Minobu adjusted the kimono into place, and bowed deeply to Wolf. “There is a formal position in the ceremony that I wish a trusted friend to hold.” Minobu paused for a moment. “I ask that you serve as kaishaku-ninfor the ceremony.”
“All right.”
Wolf's quick answer made Minobu wonder if he understood the request, but he did not wish to discuss it. All he said was, “Thank you,” and bowed again to Wolf.
“It is time,” Minobu said. “Michi will have everything ready. Let us go. Even I do not have iron resolve in all things.”
Minobu opened the door for Wolf. Outside, Dechan Fraser and Hamilton Atwyl, also resplendent in Dragoon dress uniform, waited. As Wolf and Minobu started down the hall, they fell in behind. Minobu had worked with them during his time as Professional Soldiery Liaison and was mildly curious about how they had come to be the honor guards. A minor mystery, he decided, to take with him into the dark.
The small group walked down the corridor to the lounge in silence. Michi was waiting for them at the doorway. Beyond Michi, Minobu could see that the room had been arranged as well as could be expected. It was, in fact, remarkable that Michi had been able to acquire so many of the articles necessary for a proper ritual. Misery was a barren frontier world, little concerned with courtly proprieties.
Straw futonmats covered the room, in the center of which lay a large white cushion. To the left of the cushion was a tray bearing rice paper, a brush, and an ink block. Behind the cushion and to the right, Minobu could see a wooden bucket, with a small dipper lying across its mouth. Next to the bucket stood a lacquered sword stand. His katanalay sheathed on the upper hooks. The lower hooks held his empty wakizashiscabbard. Dragoons, quietly conversing among themselves, knelt on the floor. They formed an aisle between the door and the Futon-covered area.