Staring out of the viewports in the DropShip Io's lounge, I glanced up
at the chronometer on the wall--fifteen minutes 'til midnight. Outside 
the thin sheet of transplas that staved off the frigid blackness of space,
the Glengarry sun gently warmed the lounge, but I still sat shivering in
front of the command console. It was not the cold that made me shiver, but
rather the ominous cloud gathering above me. Fifteen minutes. 
        "Sir, are you alright?"
        "Yeah, I'm fine Lieutenant. Don't worry about me."
        "The almighty Colonel actually having a second thought?" Lieutenant
Grisham said with a smirk.
        "This is the way it has to be... no way around it this time," I 
chimed in with half-interested smile. Then my face clouded again, "No way 
around it."
        The rest of the lounge was wrapt in the same somber silence. No
one spoke a word--twelve minutes. Most of the lounge's occupants did as 
did I, and stared into the endless void of space, while a precious few 
worked dilligently on their noteputers and datapads.
        Fifteen years ago, this all started. Fifteen years ago on this date,
the Clans had signed the Truce of Tukkayid. Fifteen years of uneasy peace 
filled with numerous raids and borderworld attacks that threatened to ignite
war once again between the seemingly invincible Clans and the mighty
Successor States of the Inner Sphere.
        And here we are, I though, caught in the middle of it all.
        No choice, I reminded myself--seven minutes. We must defend ourselves..
. 
We MUST defend our homes and our families. The Clans must be stopped, and
the Red Death Legion, every last man and woman, would give their lives to
see to it that Glengarry was the end of the line.
        I flipped a switch on the command console and opened a line to
Captain Martinez--five minutes. "Captain, are we ready to go up there?"
        "Aye, sir. Ready as we'll ever be," Martinez responded with a voice
robbed of her usual liveliness.
        "Four more minutes and we'll make the jump to Sirius."
        "I know the drill, sir. Gimme the order, and I'll push the buttons."
        I glanced up at the clock again--three minutes. I went through the
plan in my head over and over again, looking for any possible mistakes
or miscalculations. I could not shake the urge that something was going to
go wrong. Fifteen long years ago, the Truce of Tukkayid was signed. In 
approximately two minutes, the truce would end and the Inner Sphere would
erupt in war for the second time in two decades. Indeed something had gone
wrong--one minute. I flipped another switch.
        "Ladies and gentleman, to battlestations."
        As I leaned against the arm of the command console, I stole one 
last glance at the warm, friendly Glengarry sun. Somehow, I knew that I
would never see that golden sun setting over the Castle from the town of 
Dunkeld again. I was off to war to find glory and fame... and death. The 
last minute ticked off of the clock and a shiver worked its way down my 
spine. It now read midnight when I opened a channel to Captain Martinez again.
        "Okay, Captain. You know what to do. I'll see you on the other side."
        "Aye, Colonel."
        The JumpShip Tracer XIV, with nauseating effect, stretched itself
into two dimensions and reassembled itself, crew and all, nearly thiry 
lightyears distant. There was no turning back this time. The warm 
Glengarry sun was replaced by the harsh, distant, unfriendly pinpoint of 
white light named Sirius. That was the last sight I saw before the blast 
shields slid into place over the transplas viewport, and in a voice barely abov
e
a whisper, I addressed the lounge...
        "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Sirius. We're out here this time 
risking our lives, not to fight for money or to fight for power, but to take
care of our own. Let's do what we do best... give those Clanners hell or die 
in the process!"