BattleTech Legends: Prince of Havoc by Michael A. Stackpole

Author:Michael A. Stackpole
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Catalyst Game Labs
Published: 2016-09-26T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

State of the Art Gallery and Cafe, Crescent Harbor

New Exford

Arc-Royal Defense Cordon

15 August 3060

Francesca Jenkins felt her heart skip a beat as the entered the gallery and caught sight of Reginald Starling. The tall, lean man had dyed his hair and eyebrows a bright, unnatural scarlet and had his fingernails elongated and painted a frightful incarnadine shade. As she drew closer, she saw the hint of fang-like dental implants lengthening his canines and saw blood-red contacts that hid his normally blue eyes. His black clothes, cut conservatively and severely, emphasized just how slender he was and definitely cast him as a creature of the night.

She’d heard he’d taken to this undead persona, and admired his ability to tap into the Zeitgeist of the Lyran Alliance. The stunning victories the Star League Defense Force had won against the Jaguars in the Combine had surprised everyone and buoyed their spirits. What everyone had thought would be a long, difficult war had become a walkover that was greeted initially with great joy.

Then the SLDF moved into the Periphery to deal with Smoke Jaguar resistance, and reported progress came less quickly. This left people wondering if their earlier optimism wasn’t born in haste. The Jade Falcons remained on the Lyran Alliance border and, even though no Falcons had crossed into the Arc-Royal Defense Cordon area, tomorrow could always herald an attack. People began to think the Clans were not as finished as the Star League liked to report, and they waited for the Clanners to rise from the grave and wreak havoc once more.

Starling looked up over the ice-blue coiffure of a diminutive patron and clapped his hands to his breastbone when he saw Francesca. His feral grin broadened, giving her a better look at his teeth. He immediately sidestepped the woman he had been speaking to and strode over to her. “All, Fiona, you are a vision.”

“You are too kind, Reg.” Francesca smiled carefully. She’d chosen to wear a red-sequined, sleeveless dress with hemline that fell almost to mid-thigh. It had a high collar that fastened tight to her throat, but a slender diamond cut-out that ran from the hollow of her throat to her navel, revealing the soft curves of her breasts and showing the bullet-wound scar right below her breastbone. That scar had always fascinated Starling, and she knew showing it off so boldly would excite him.

“I am so glad you came.”

Francesca slipped her hand through his arm. “Are you, Reg? I was surprised to get an invitation to this opening. I’d ignored the others, assuming you wanted to gloat.”

“Just as well you didn’t come to the others, because I would have gloated.” Starling ted her deeper into the gallery, past the coffee bar, to a smaller room. “Your absence at first enraged me but, then, upon reflection, I found you inspiring.”

“Did you? How so?”

Reg slipped his arm from hers and spread his hands wide. “Very inspiring, my dear. This work is all from you.”

Francesca looked around the room and swallowed hard to force her heart back into its proper place.

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