Porrima
Skye March, Federated Commonwealth
7 October 3052
The noble paced the floor again, his face shining with delight. "The little bastard.....What little does he realize what he has given me?"
“You grace, we have gained valuable information concerning several of the Federated Commonwealth’s mercenary units. Many of them bear personal enmity towards the Draconis Combine and are interested in any operation you would sponsor against the Combine.”
“How interested?” The noble spun and glared at the man in the Lyran Intelligence Corps uniform. A weaker man would have withered under the noble's glare, but the LIC agent stood firm.
“They are mercenaries, mi’lord. One can only guess that money is their greatest objective.”
“How many regiments under arms will support an attack in your assessment?”
“Six Battlemech regiments. Plus about two dozen other conventional regiments.”
“Too few to hold off a concentrated attack from Prince Victor if he discovers us.”
“Our sponsor is willing to provide us with the supplies to forge a seventh regiment.”
“I know and I can get the pilots for those mechs easily enough.” The noble paced the floor. “Still, brute force will not win us the day. Our objective is two-fold.” He paused to collect his thoughts. “One, force Victor into a war with the Combine. If my guess is correct, he’ll try to fight that war with Lyran units. When he does, I will raise public opinion against him and force the Lyran Commonwealth succession.”
“But his mother?”
“Will not be a problem.” said the noble confidently. “Contact the mercenary regiments and learn what their intentions are. If we can use them to jump start this war, then so be it. I will pay them gladly for that role.”
New Belfast
Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth
1 November 3052
Hauptmann General Joshua Messer looked out from the tallest tower of Castle MacLeod. To the east was the vast waters of the Dividing Sea. To his west, the fertile green plains of his adopted homeworld stretched out for miles. Joshua stretched and let the early morning air fill his lungs. Most visitors to New Belfast would have gotten nauseous on the CO2 rich air, but Joshua was no longer a mere visitor.
"Spying on your wife, Joshua?"
Joshua turned to see his sister-in-law, Marian MacLeod. Shorter and younger than Lisa, Marian was in some ways prettier, with flame red hair and deep green eyes.
"Not really. I haven't seen her yet."
"She just came over the hill behind you."
Joshua turned and glanced southward. The plains here were slightly more rugged; rugged being a relative term. A series of rolling hills separated the castle from a large expanse of woods. Lisa was riding her horse over the top of one of those hills, her destination was the castle stable, some 100 meters from the castle.
"My, she's getting big, isn't she?" commented Marian. Marian was, of course, referring to the fact that Lisa was pregnant.
"Yes, she is." said Joshua flatly.
“You know, it took you two long enough. You were married on Skye during the peace. Your first kid is on the way only now?” said Marian with a playful grin. She loved ribbing her sister about Lisa's sex life, both before and after Lisa had married Joshua.
“Wartime isn’t exactly conducive to a healthy pregnancy.” Retorted Joshua. Even still, Lisa’s pregnancy was not a planned event. There was a question as to who the father was. Joshua was, of course, one option. But the other was far more sinister, as Lisa had been captured and repeatedly raped by Robert O’Malley when the Star Swords attacked New Belfast back in April.
Regardless of the child’s true parentage, the rapes had left their mark. Long months of counseling and therapy had given Lisa back some of her old self, but not all. Physical intimacy was out of the question, she not abide even Joshua’s touch. Their lack of affection for one another was troublesome, but Joshua was willing to be patient.
But how long would his patience last? That even he didn’t know.
Chandler
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
2 November 3052
“Why all the way out there?” asked Captain Jael Mangalore. “Hagia is half-way across the continent.”
Logan Thorpe, commander of the mercenary lance The Dark Rangers, looked intently at his dropship captain. “We’ve gotten an offer. Some smuggler’s being hunted by Drac authorities. He’s willing to pay big for us to get him off-world.”
“What’s he carrying?”
“Carrying?”
“He’s a smuggler and the Dracs want him. I’ll bet The Fury, they’re after whatever he’s smuggling.”
“Don’t concern yourself with that. You just make sure we’ve got a jumpship willing to take us out of here if things get ugly.”
“No problem.” said Jael. “You just make sure we get paid for this.”
“Not a problem. I’ll take him to the cleaners.”
The Dark Rangers had been formed during the Clan War by several survivors of Clan attacks. Logan was the son of a wealthy Rasalhague industrialist who ran away from his overbearing parents to join the Kell Hounds. On a mission into the Periphery less than six months after he joined, he found himself staring down a Wolf Clan cluster. He was taken prisoner, along with Mangalore. Jael had been injured during the fighting, badly enough to keep him from ever piloting a mech again. He’d been the son of one of the Kell Hound’s dropship pilots, so he knew how to fly the elaborate spacecraft. That had saved them both, allowing them to escape the Clans by stealing a small transport dropship. They had since refit the craft with the pay from their first few jobs.
Joining the unit after their return to the Inner Sphere was Chu-i Karl Rohan, formerly of the DCMS, and two of his men, Jacobs and Miruki. That brought them up to a single lance of mechs, large enough to get descent jobs from local nobles. They’d gone on two major raids since their creation, both into Ghost Bear Clan space. Neither had netted them much salvage, in fact, they fought only a single Clan mech during those two missions. But they were paid well. Well enough to upgrade their stolen Lone Wolf class dropship, named The Fury. Their four mechs, a WLF-1 Wolfhound, a WFT-1 Wolf Trap, a PNT-9R Panther, and a CRB-20 Crab, were all in pristine condition.
Thus, despite their small size, the unit was in good shape. Most mercenary units could not boast the Dark Rangers success level, particularly after only two years of operation. Things were going well, but their last job had let them down. They’d come to Chandler with hopes of a third raid on the Ghost Bears when a family squabble killed their employer. Without the job they’d come looking for, Logan had hoped to salvage the costly trip out there by picking up an odd job among one of the planetary nobles. That’s how he came across this desperate smuggler.
Hagia was several hundred kilometers away. The smuggler was hiding out there in fear of contact with the ISF, the Kurita secret police. Logan, young and somewhat naive, knew of the ISF, but did not understand the fear they invoked in the people of the Draconis Combine. Despite the warnings of his three ex-Kurita comrades, he had taken the job.
The Fury was not designed for combat drops, nor could it easily unload its compliment of Battlemechs. Logan was waiting about impatiently as Rohan and the others off-loaded their machines so they could march them the distance to Hagia.
“You know where to find this guy?”
“We have an arranged meeting place and time.” Logan checked his watch. “It’s about 12 hours away, but I want to make sure we get there on time.”
“Rohan’s almost done with his Crab. He’s the last.”
“We’ll be back by this time tomorrow. You be ready to lift off.”
“If the ISF is on your ass, you’re damn right I’ll be ready to lift off.” Jael waved him off as Logan headed to mount up his Wolfhound, Nightshade.
Hagia
Chandler
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
2 November 3052
Akeem Ali Akbar checked under his jacket one more time to make sure his pistol was there. As was the case when he’d checked the other four times, it was smugly held between his pants and his sizable belly. He looked back over his shoulder repeatedly, but saw no one.
Hagia had been the target of an attack during the Ronin Wars some 15 years before. The northern half of the city was devastated by the battle and remained in ruins to this day. It was a dangerous area, filled with criminal gangs and various others who wished to live outside the law. Even the ISF did not go there. Akeem had been hiding there safely for over three months. Now, to escape, he had to venture southward into what was known as the Borderlands, the area of the city lining the ruins.
The Borderlands neighborhoods were only slightly better than the ruins themselves. Also badly damaged in the battle, the poor and destitute lived here. Police rarely came here, fearing raids from the gangs of the ruins, so crime was rampant. Prostitution, drugs, guns, and all sorts of vices could be found here. It was to such a place where one could find all of the above that Akbar was going.
The bar was a dive at best. Akeem walked in to be blasted by the smell of body odor, cigarette smoke, and various other odors too disgusting to mention. Through the smoke, he made his way to a dark back table where sat four reasonably well-dressed men. The clientele looked suspiciously at them, revealing their outsider nature. Akeem knew they were too polished to be anything but the mechwarriors he’d contracted to protect him.
“Are you Logan?” asked Akeem.
“That would be me.” said Logan, looking up at Akeem. “You Akbar?”
“Yes.” said the Arab man nervously. “You have agreed to my terms?”
“Not entirely.” said Rohan. “You’re trying to avoid the ISF. That’s a big risk for us. We want double your current offer.”
“Double? Are you mad?”
The door opened and four people clan in black jumpsuits entered. Wearing faceplates to hide their identity, they bore laser rifles and vibrokatanas as weapons.
“Want to rethink that?” said Rohan, reaching for his sidearm. “Those are DEST soldiers.”
The sight of the four soldiers did just that for Akbar. “You have a deal, Logan. Double my last offer. Now get me out of here.” he whispered hurriedly.
“The back!” said Logan. “Quickly.” The five men stood up, immediately drawing attention to themselves. Logan drew his laser pistol and fired as the DEST men turned. The crimson beam tagged the closest soldier, searing through his armor and burning a nasty wound into his left arm. He cried out and fell over. Panic ensued as the crowd in the bar jumped to their feet, desperate to find cover from the coming gun battle.
“So much for quiet.” said Rohan, drawing his own gun, a Mydron machine pistol. He squeezed the trigger, firing at the ISF soldiers, but instead tagging an innocent bystander who walked into the path of bullets.
“Damn!” swore Karl, angry at killing a bystander. He pushed Akbar down and began to follow Logan towards the back door.
As Logan cleared the door, the butt of a laser rifle smashed him in the face. He reeled and fell to the earth. An ugly disfigured man stood over him haughtily. “You mercenary scum!” Rohan drew a bead on the man, but then noticed the five other laser rifles pointing right at him.
“I would not recommend that, Chu-i Rohan.” said a voice, a familiar voice.
“Yuri?” said Karl, lowering his pistol and surrendering.
“Hai. I feared you might go mercenary after our failure on Turtle Bay. I knew that it would one day force us against one another.”
“And that day has come it seems.”
----
Yuri and her disfigured subordinate led the mercenaries and Akbar out into the street in front of the bar. Rohan looked about and saw a lance of ISF mechs patrolling nearby: A Crab, a Panther, a Locust, and a machine Rohan did not recognize. Also on the street were probably two dozen DEST soldiers in their jet black uniforms.
“Did you find the documents?” asked the pilot of the unknown mech to Yuri.
“Negative. Akbar does not have them.”
“Kuso.” swore the pilot, a woman.
“Now what?” asked Rohan of the groggy Logan.
“Beats me.” Logan leaned up next to Akbar. “I want triple now.”
“You’re getting nothing if you don’t get me out of here.”
Suddenly, a limousine pulled up and parked at the feet of the unknown mech. Several men in black suits stepped out and walked towards Yuri.
“Tai-sa Noriko, I am Kobun Walter Nirotaki of the Ryu-gin-ka clan. I am here to take charge of your prisoners by the authority of the Gunji No Kanrei.”
That was Theodore Kurita’s official title, the heir-apparent of the Draconis Combine and commander of the DCMS. Before the War of 3039 with the Federated Commonwealth, he had recruited the Yakuza crime families to assist him against the Fed Com invasion. That had led to Kanrei Kurita using the Yakuza as his own personal operatives.
“I do not recognize your authority here, Kobun. I serve the Dragon. You are a common criminal.”
“I too serve the Dragon, Tai-sa, and I am authorized to take these prisoners by force if need be. But there is no need for two servants of the Dragon to fight each other when a peaceful and honorable agreement can be found.”
Yuri did not like the veiled threat. She looked towards the unknown mech. “Tai-sa, I confirm the presence of a company of unknown mechs closing on us from within the ruins.”
“The 10th Ghost regiment, if you are curious. We have been ordered here by the Kanrei. The 17th Galedon will also support our claim to these prisoners if you resist.”
“Then you shall have them, Kobun.” said Yuri disgustedly.
“I knew you would see things in a reasonable light.” Nirotaki motioned for his soldiers to take charge of Logan and his group. The mercenaries were forced back towards the limousine by only slightly more gentle means than the ISF had manhandled them.
“Popular, aren’t you?” said Jacobs at Akbar.
“Who the hell did you piss off anyway?” asked Logan.
As the limousine sped off, Yuri snapped her fingers. “Stop them. Director Indrahar’s prize must not escape with the Yakuza.”
“But the DCMS?” responded the disfigured one.
“Make it look accidental.” said Yuri sharply.
“Hai”
----
The limousine drove over to the airport at the northwestern edge of town. This facility had been the target of the ronin mechs that had destroyed the northern portion of the city. Thus, it lay with the Borderlands to its southeast and the ruins on all other sides. It was an armored fortress of a facility. The 17th Galedon Regulars maintained a small garrison of mechs here to keep adventuresome gangs under control. It was also where mercenaries under hire of the planets nobility stored their mechs. The Dark Ranger mechs were here.
During the trip over to the airport, Logan had managed to work his bonds loose. A teenage life running with the gangs on Rasalhague had given the young merc leader more than one trick up his sleeve.
As the limo crossed onto the tarmac, there was a flash of light and the front quarter of the car exploded. Logan and the others were thrown forward out of their seats as the limo came to a screeching halt. The two Ghost regiment mechs that had been waiting suddenly came under fire as well.
“It’s the ISF.” rattled off a Yakuza soldier in Japanese.
True enough, a lance of DEST mechs emerged from behind the hangers. Logan recognized two of the machines from the lance back at the bar, the other two were captured Clan Omnimechs, a Ryoken and a Vulture.
The Ghost machines, a Warhammer and a Quickdraw, knew they were outmatched. They began to pull back, leaving their demolished limousine to its fate. But the ISF was not about to let them go.
“Let’s get out of here.” said Logan.
“What’s going on?” asked Akbar.
“The ISF want you back, and they’re willing to kill the Yaks to do it. These men are dead. Let’s make sure we don’t end up that way.”
The four Dark Rangers and their charge crawled out of the smashed car, followed by two Yakuza guards. Those guards seemed little concerned with mercs thankfully, and turned their attentions on escaping with their lives. One DEST mech, the unknown machine from the Borderlands bar, was moving after them. It had been the one to fire on them and now was bent on finishing off the Yakuza soldiers.
Pulse lasers laced up the tarmac, roasting the two soldiers alive as they ran. Logan and his men kept running, heading for the fence at the far side of the tarmac that led into the ruins. The mystery mech gave chase, moving much faster than the men on foot.
Jacobs turned around and fired on it with a stolen submachine gun. It was a futile effort, and only drew attention to him. The mech’s arm mounted pulse laser flashed and Jacobs went up in a flash of flame.
“Damn, lost Jacobs.” swore Rohan. The fence was only 20 meters away, but the mech was almost on top of them.
“Wait a second!” said Logan, suddenly turning around. Unable to brake quickly enough, the mech kept going over Logan’s head. Rohan took the hint and jerked about, dragging Akbar with him. Miruki tried to do the same, but was struck by the mech’s leg as it tried to stop itself. While he wasn’t stepped on, the blow was enough to knock him out cold, probably kill him.
Logan wove around the machine’s left leg as it tried to back up. He made a dash for the fence, with Rohan close behind. Logan suddenly yanked back, as pulse lasers flashed over his head. The ruse had worked. The lasers boiled through the chain links, giving the mercs a way out. Logan picked up his speed and was through the fence before the lasers could recycle. Rohan was close behind and Akbar with him.
Logan kept running. The mech stepped over the fence and continued its pursuit, but the crowded streets of the ruins prevented it from moving very quickly. Logan led his companions around a corner and he stopped.
Rohan gasped for breath. “I can’t run anymore. Breathed too much ozone from that near miss.” He coughed. “Let’s stay here and pray it doesn’t have a Beagle probe.”
“Allah be merciful.” prayed Akbar. “A Raptor does, in some configs.”
“A what?”
“A Raptor. It’s a prototype Omnimech. Only the ISF and the Dragon’s Claws use it.”
“You worked for the ISF, didn’t you?”
“Hai. I was a courier for them.”
“What’s this all about, Akbar? You owe us that much now.”
“It’s about betrayal, Logan. My mission was to relay orders to the Ryuken regiments on Wolcott, both for the Kanrei and the ISF. The ISF is stockpiling arms, the Ryuken were getting Clan technology from their raids. Some of that was going to the ISF, and I was the middleman on that operation.”
“Why stockpiling? What are they up to?”
“Apparently, they’re acquiring arms from all across the Combine. Old Succession War mechs, Star League weapons, and stolen Clan technology, all of it being stockpiled on Al Na’ir. It wasn’t until I disobeyed orders and broke the seal on the ISF’s orders to the Ryuken that I discovered why. I have a way of doing it without it being detected. One of the tricks on my trade.”
“And that is? Why are they?” said Logan, annoyed.
“They’re creating an army of their own and they’re going to launch a war against the Federated Commonwealth.”
“The new Alliance? They’re trying to stop it.” said Rohan.
Akbar nodded. The Raptor walked past, shaking the earth and stopping hearts for a moment, but then moved on.
“Does the Kanrei know?”
“Doubtful. I suspect his intervention here is to discover why I fled my duty. Being taken by the Yakuza would have not been an unpleasant fate, save perhaps the seppuku the Dragon would have asked of me. But I knew the ISF would not allow them to take me, no matter what forces stood against them. They would rig something up to silence me before any Kurita ever heard my story.”
“Takashi-sama would trust the ISF and not believe you.” said Rohan. “The Kanrei might believe your story, but you would need proof.”
“I will need proof regardless, if I am to prove my story to the LIC.”
“The Lyran’s?”
“They are here on Chandler and like their opponents in the ISF have been unable to locate me. But I know where they are. Get me to them, and between them and I, you will be paid all that you ask.”
“I not so concerned about the money now.” said Logan bitterly. “It helps to be alive to spend it.”
“Well, let us make sure that Raptor does not come around for another pass and then I will lead you to my hiding place. There, we will get my proof and then you can take me back to Chandler City. I know where to find an LIC operative there.”
Denizli
Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
3 November 3052
Brian Davies slurped the last of the chili from his can. The small cooking fire in front of him gave off little light and heat, which was something to be thankful for, here deep behind enemy lines.
“Well, that’s the last of it.” said Brian. “You doing okay?”
“I’m fine.” said the other man, his large cowboy hat outlining him in the dark. “I just don’t see how we can keep doing this, Doc.”
“We can’t, Cowboy. We’ve got to make a run for it.”
“Patrick and the others don’t want to risk it. They think we’ll only be cut down if we try.”
“They might be right, but our supplies are gone. We can’t repair our machines and we can’t feed our men. There’s no choice now.”
Cowboy leaned against a twisted tree and groaned. His Hauptmann bars flashed in the firelight, and seemed to Doc to be all the weight in the universe on his friend’s shoulders.
“We won’t all make it.”
“No, we won’t.” said Doc. “But there’s an FC jumpship up there, the first that’s risked coming here since the battle. Your long-range transmitter is still functional. Tell them we’re here and need pick up.”
Cowboy nodded. “We’re doing it.” he said with finality. “If Patrick wants to die here, then he can. I want to live, so I’m going out on that dropship.” He looked down at Doc. “I’ll go tell the others.”
----
Cowboy, Doc, Patrick, and their group were the last survivors of the 9th Deneb Light Cavalry. The regiment had been sent in to take Denizli from Clan Jade Falcon during Operation: Counterstrike. They had won the planet handily during Wave three of that operation, around the same time as the Star Swords were retaking New Belfast.
But then, after the battle of Tukayyid, the Jade Falcons were no longer going to allow their occupation zone to be cut in half. They launched assaults against several of the worlds taken in Wave Three, including Denizli. The 9th Deneb made a quick retreat in the face of the renewed Clan assault, but unfortunately had left some of their troops behind.
Cowboy had escaped with three other mechwarriors into the mountains lining the northern shore of the planet’s southern continent. A wild largely unexplored land, the unit had managed to hide out there for several months.
Then the new Clan garrison of Denizli decided to perform maneuvers on the south continent and stumbled upon the survivors. A random encounter erupted into a short decisive battle that cost the Falcons two small Omnimechs and the survivors one of their mechs.
The survivors consisted of Cowboy and his HGN-733 Highlander, Patrick and his VTR-9K Victor, and Arissa with a JM6-DD Jagermech. Doc and Mallory were along for the ride, Doc being a technician, Mallory having had his mech shot out from under him during their initial contact with the Clan scouts.
Cowboy’s Highlander, despite its lack of Star League weapons, did carry the assault mech’s sophisticated sensor and communications package. As a result, he was able to receive the transmission that a friendly jumpship was in the system, looking for survivors and smugglers. Cowboy made the difficult decision to alert the ship to their presence, but in order to get off the planet, the Deneb survivors would have to move to an area where a dropship could land. That meant open ground.
Cowboy and his comrades now made their way out of the mountains and towards the open plains to the south, remembering well that there was a Clan binary down here out for blood.
“We bagged two of their own the last time we tangled with them.” said Cowboy to Doc, who rode with him in the Highlander’s passenger seat. “They’re burning for revenge, mostly because they’re pissed they missed us back in September.”
“I know.” said the tech ruefully. “We can always hope that none of them find us.”
“Not likely.” said Cowboy. His radar already was picking up enemy contacts.
“Dropship Deliverance to Deneb lance. ETA on planet is 4 minutes. I’m picking up enemy mechs in your area. You’d better be at the dust-off site when I get there, because I’m going to be a sitting duck with those Clan mechs nearby.”
“Roger that, Deliverance. Bogeys are as much a worry to us as they are to you.” responded Cowboy.
“What are they?”
“It’s a full Star, about three klicks to the west and closing fast. Looks like three Ullers, a Mad Cat, and a Loki.”
“Far more than we can handle.”
“No kidding.” said Cowboy, reaching up to flip a switch above his head. The computer chimed back. “Disengagement of missile safeties is not advised.”
“Shut up.” said Doc, knowing that having the Highlander’s LRM’s hot-loaded effectively doubled their short-range firepower.
“Enemy mechs. ETA 90 seconds.” warned Doc.
“Survivor One to Survivor lance, enemy forces on the move. ETA 1 minute. Get ready to rumble.”
“I’ll take the Cat.” said Patrick.
“Loki’s mine.” said Cowboy. “Can you handle all three Ullers?”
“I’ll try.” said Arissa. “How long do we have to hold them?”
“Just a few minutes. Pick-up is en route.” Cowboy looked up and could see the vapor trail of the descending dropship above him.
The Mad Cat cleared a small hill and opened fire with a large autocannon on its right arm. Tracer rounds made the shots look like laser beams as the coursed over to lance across the armor of Cowboy’s Highlander.
“Scratch that, they’ve got their own ideas.” said Patrick. “The Cat’s yours.”
“Thanks.” said Cowboy, dropping his LRM sight onto the Mad Cat and firing. Twenty of the missiles hurled out, snaking through the air to slam hard into the Clan machine.
The Ullers came up next, firing in concert at the Victor. Patrick’s gauss rifle had been the team’s salvation the last time they’d encountered the Clans, having dropped both Ullers then with it. But now, it was dangerously low on ammo. Still, Patrick lobbed a single shell at one. The nickel slug pounded the Uller’s leg armor to powder, slowing it down, but not stopping it.
“They’re using combined fire.” said Patrick, wincing as his already damaged armor was depleted further by the Uller’s coordinated attack.
The Union dropship was now descending through the clouds, drawing off the attention of the Loki. “Here it comes. Everyone make a run for it on my mark.” said Cowboy, cutting loose with his own autocannon at the Mad Cat. It did not seem to flinch, but returned fire with a barrage of lasers. Sparks flew from one panel in the cockpit of the Highlander a power surge shot through the system.
“We’ve taken an engine hit.” said Doc.
The dropship touched down, lowering its ramp for the waiting mechs. Cowboy looked about. “Go!”
Turning on the Mad Cat, he bolted for the door. Patrick came close behind. The Mad Cat, annoyed to be losing its prey so soon, tore an autocannon salvo across the Victor. The shells tore through the armor covering the gauss rifle and detonated its capacitors. The explosion knocked the Victor off-balance and it fell into the dirt.
Suddenly confronted with her fallen comrade in her path, Arissa tried to dodge aside. Causing a 65 ton machine to turn suddenly was not an easy task in the best of conditions and as she started to turn, the pull of inertia began to bring her own mech over. Carefully pulling on the sticks, she tried to use her mech’s arms to counterbalance herself. Then the Loki struck.
Twin PPC blasts blasted through the Jagermech’s thin rear armor. Balance no longer mattered as armor panels rippled off the machine like scales as explosions ripped the machine apart. The flaming wreckage tipped over and crashed into the ground just short of the fallen Victor.
“Lost Arissa.” said Patrick, trying to stand. The Mad Cat moved forward, leaving the Highlander to escape.
Cowboy paused just short of the ramp. He turned and fired an autocannon burst at the Mad Cat. His shot pounded through the Cat’s armor, locking its elbow and making its autocannon hard to target. Annoyed, the Clan pilot twisted his mech about, taking a quick pot shot at the slow moving Victor. Unable to dodge, the pulse laser melted through the mech’s head armor to the unprotected cockpit beneath. Patrick never felt a thing.
“Damn you!” swore Cowboy. “You’re going down.” He cut loose with everything, emptying the last salvo of both LRM and autocannon into the Mad Cat. The heavy Clan mech weathered the blows, losing its other arm in the process, but it survived.
“Johvac, ammo’s depleted. We’ve got to get out of here.”
“But....”
“They’re gone. Don’t make us join them!”
Cowboy pushed the throttle forward and climbed into the dropship. A half-second later, the huge ion engines of the dropship roared to life, launching the dropship into space.
Chandler
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
4 November 3052
Logan peaked out from the brick wall that lined the abandoned building that had once been Akeem Ali Akbar’s hideout. “There’s not much time. We can only hope they’ve not confiscated our mechs or our dropship.”
“I agree.” Said Rohan. “It’s now or never.”
As the two mercenaries stepped out with their charge and his cargo, a group of teenaged ruffians appeared from the shadows.
“What do you have there?” said the leader in Japanese. He pointed to Akbar’s briefcase with his stun baton. Somehow, Logan doubted that the weapon still retained the safeties that kept it from delivering a deadly jolt.
“Nothing of your concern, kid.” said Rohan in his native tongue.
“Don’t fuck with me, soldier.” responded the punk.
“Let me deal with this.” said Logan to Karl in Swedenese, the vernacular of the Rasalhague Republic. Rohan was born in what was now the Republic and knew the language. Both doubted the young ruffian understood.
Logan stepped forward, his long black coat whipping about in a slight breeze. He got within striking distance of the ruffian, well within reach of the punk’s baton.
“Go away.” said Logan firmly.
“Fuck you.”
Like lightning, Logan drew his gun, a flamer pistol and rammed the barrel into the punk’s half-open mouth. A twitch of the finger and his head would explode in a ball of flame. The punk dropped the baton as his friends scattered.
“Man instinctually fears being burned.” said Rohan flatly to Akbar. “Logan’s weapon of choice serves him as well when he doesn’t pull the trigger as it does when he does.”
Logan shoved the teenager back. The ruffian fell backwards onto his rump. “See you around.” said Logan, holstering his gun and heading off. Rohan and Akbar followed close behind.
----
“How nice of them to not have the fence fixed.” said Logan.
“There’s three enemy mechs on the far side of the tarmac. Too far away to bother us now, but once we get our mechs moving, they’ll be trouble.”
“What are they?”
“One of those Raptors, a Wolf Trap, and a Hatamoto-Chi.”
“Those’ll be tough opposition.”
“It’s now or never. Let’s go.”
The three men made a dash for the hanger. It was not unguarded, but Logan’s quick work with his flamer pistol killed the guard before any alarm was raised. Rohan took Akbar and headed for his Crab. Logan climbed up and got into Nightshade.
“Good, you’re all still in one piece.” he said powering up.
“The enemy mech’s have detected our power-up.” said Rohan as his Crab took its first step forward. Looks like the Raptor and Hatamoto-Chi are making their way towards us, the Wolf Trap is holding its position.
“I’ll take the big one. You take out that Raptor.”
“Now wait a minute....”
“You might have the bigger mech, Karl, but I’ve got more guns that you.”
“You’ll cook to bring that much firepower to bear.”
“I’ll chance it. Besides, you’ve got our bank account in your machine.” That was in reference to Akbar. “Better for you to take on the little guy.”
“Roger. Taking the Raptor.” Rohan pulled ahead as they marched onto the tarmac.
Karl fire-linked his two large lasers together and dropped the sight onto the small machine. “That’s Yuri’s machine. I recognize her evasion pattern. Oh, God, why her?”
“I know your mech, Karl. Don’t make me do this.” It was Yuri.
“And do what? Spend the rest of my life in a Kurita prison camp. I don’t think so.” He triggered his lasers. The two heavy lasers tore into the light mech’s frame. Yuri responded with her own barrage, six medium lasers. That was massive firepower for such a small mech.
And Rohan felt it. The shots tore through his heavy armor, knocking out one of his large lasers immediately. Rohan immediately switched to his lighter weapons, cutting off a volley of his medium and small laser. Yuri deftly evaded them.
“She’s evading rather than firing. I must have hit her harder than it seems.” Not knowing anything about the Raptor other than its speed and firepower, he could only surmise that the prototype Omni carried little armor.
Logan meanwhile was deftly handing the Hatamoto-Chi. At 80 tons, the mech was over twice his weight, carrying two PPCs and two six-pack SRM launchers. While its firepower was not overly impressive, it was fast and heavily armored.
Profanities were filling the airwaves, mostly from Logan, who used swearing as a means of intimidation. Some however were coming from the frustrated Kurita pilot, who Karl recognized as the disfigured one.
“Raptor Ichi to Wolf San. Get up here, Gwen.”
“Hai!” said a woman’s voice. The Wolf Trap began to close with them.
“Wolf Trap closing to firing range, Logan.” warned Karl.
“I see it. Can we make a break for it?” Logan lanced a single large laser across the elbow of the Hatamoto Chi. The arm blew off at the elbow, sending the mech’s PPC to the ferrocrete.
“I think so. Go!”
Logan broke off from the Hatamoto and sprinted for the northern fence. Karl was close behind, backstepping to keep the faster Raptor from pursuing. But Yuri seemed unwilling to engage. The Hatamoto Chi, on the other hand, was still in the fight, despite having lost a major weapon. Twelve SRMs hurled out of their chest mounted launchers. Rohan began to turn to run when the missiles slammed home. A burst of autocannon fire from the Wolf Trap cut across Rohan’s path.
“I’ve been cut off, Logan!” said Rohan.
“Damn!” swore the younger mechwarrior, stopping and turning back around.
Suddenly lasers flashed from the clouds above. They struck the back of the Wolf Trap, blasting through its rear armor and knocking the mech onto its face.
“Gwen!” cried the Hatamoto pilot in fear. He turned his PPC skyward as a sleek dropship parted the clouds to come down towards the tarmac.
“It’s Jael!” said Rohan. “How typical.”
The Fury pulled back up to go around for another pass. Knowing full well, she could not survive a barrage from the dropship’s laser turrets, Yuri pulled back towards the safety of the armored mech hangers.
“Javier, withdraw. We can’t repel that kind of firepower.”
“But Gwen....”
“Leave her. They’ll not harm her any further.”
Jael saw the Kurita machines withdraw and he brought the dropship down to land. Opening the rear hatch, he activated the loading platforms.
“Hurry, there’s not much time. Kurita fighters’ll be all over me in a few minutes.” he cried as Logan laid his mech on its back on its loading platform. Karl crouched down into a sitting position on his, to make his animal-like mech fit in the Lone Wolf’s narrow cargo bay.
The mechs were loaded and James ran forward to the cockpit. He shoved the throttle forward and felt the dropship’s upgraded engines roar to life. The 4 G take-off would be uncomfortable, but it would give them a big enough head start to escape the enemy fighters.
Within seconds, the dark blue sky of Chandler faded further to black. James cut back on the throttle and began to plot his course to the jumpship. Logan came forward.
“We lost Jacobs and Miruki.” said Logan, dropping into the co-pilot seat.
“I know. I’ve been waiting for you outside the city for two days now. Once I saw your IFF signals, I came flying in.”
“They came looking for you?”
“Of course, they were ISF. Give them a little credit. Don’t think they didn’t connect me to you.”
Akbar and Rohan came next. “So where to, Smuggler-boy?” said James half-mockingly.
“Well, the LIC on Chandler will be disappointed with my departure. I suggest we make for Lyran space.”
“No, the LIC will not be disappointed. The jumpship were headed towards is Lyran registered. It’s currently under license to the LIC. It’s how they were going to get you out anyway. There’s a command circuit set up to take us all the way to Twycross.”
“Why there, I wonder?”
“Don’t know. I guess we’ll find out later.”
----
Back on Chandler, Javier made his way over to the mauled Wolf Trap mech. Gwen was just now disembarking.
“Damn, they escaped.” she swore.
“It is probably best that they did.” said Javier casually. “We are working against our own nation and against our own destiny as those who would help unite the Inner Sphere against the Clans.”
“What can we do, Javier? We are nobody, nothing. Just faceless thugs for the ISF.”
“This is why we need to find a way out and get to New Belfast. Meet up with the Star Swords. We would no longer be anonymous assassins, working for a man mired in old and useless rivalries.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.” Answered Javier. “But if we prove ourselves loyal and dedicated to the Director’s little vendetta, he may give us the opportunity.”
“What are you saying?” asked Gwen.
“Just a hunch. I suspect we will be dealing with the Federated Commonwealth directly very soon. And when that happens, it will be our opportunity.”
Next Chapter
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