2
Captain Jurick Donnell had spent the last nine years in Graedis since his wife and daughter had been killed in a minor attack from the Inner Sphere. At the time, Jurick had been in Graedis and was just about to retire. When they were killed, he decided he had only one important motive left in life, and that was to protect Graedis from any further IS attacks, and to prevent more such deaths. For a couple years his life remained eventful as he went on missions against the IS; but then the attacks slowed, and people started wondering why there was still a standing mech force across the planet. Even Jurick had again begun to wonder if it might be best to leave the force once and for all, even if he was the city's best warrior. But for now, Jurick was in charge of Peter Strauss's lance, the Ramblers, and so he was, naturally, the best person for Roberts to talk to about Strauss's behavior, since Roberts couldn't talk to Strauss himself. So Jurick was sleeping off shift when Captain Winters ran out of the Command Post and found Jurick's quarters and rang his doorbell.
"Wake up, Donnell! Colonel wants you!"
"Doesn't he know I'm sleeping?"
"It's important. Hurry!" Jurick shook himself awake and quickly got dressed before leaving his room and returning with Winters to Command, where Colonel Edrick Roberts tried to raise Strauss on the radio, as he, Captain Pembroke, Radar Officer Jonathan O'Reilly, and Tactical Officer Wesley Stephens crowded around the radarscope to keep track of what was going on.
"Yes, Colonel? What's this about?"
"Your Lieutenant Peter Strauss is coming back early from his patrol. We can't reach him on the radio."
"Peter Strauss?"
"Yes, Peter Strauss. Do you have any idea why he won't respond to us? Has he been acting strangely?"
"Uh, no, he's been perfectly fine. He won't talk to you?"
"Is there anything unusual that's happened lately? Why isn't he responding?"
"No, I can't think of anything unusual. Well, actually . . . there was that little thing yesterday."
"Yesterday? What happened?"
"He, uh . . . he said that while he was out on the western leg of his patrol he saw what looked like a flash of lighting. He went to investigate and found that it was an explosion-some old barrels of fuel that caught on fire."
"And you didn't report it to me?"
"They could have been there for years before exploding. The heat can do that to volatile substances, after enough time. I didn't think it was too important, anyway."
"Well, he's not responding, and we need to find out why. Go to Yellow Alert, Wesley. He's just passed the two kilometer mark."
Pembroke spoke up. "Colonel, don't we have to stop him from reaching one kilometer if he doesn't respond?"
"We do. Wesley, target Peter Strauss's Eagle. I don't want you to shoot until he reaches one kilometer though-and aim for the legs! I don't want-"
"Sir," O'Reilly interrupted, "I didn't notice it before, but looking at his cockpit . . . it looks like his mech is damaged. Maybe someone shot . . ." At O'Reilly's implication, everyone further strained their eyes to look where O'Reilly was pointing, to the forward view of Strauss's Eagle that showed some sort of damage on the cockpit.
"He's been shot," Winters gasped.
"Now don't jump to conclusions," Roberts said quickly. "There's no evidence that he's been fired on. Let's all just remain calm. The IS hasn't taken any hostile actions on Arthenis in over a year. That's about a record. Let's not let this little thing break it."
But, in spite of Robert's reassurance of his officers, everyone was concerned at what this new development might mean. Perhaps temperatures would be the way best to measure the problem Graedis was just encountering: in contrast to the seething temperatures outside, hundreds of degrees above what was tolerable for human life, the dome of the Command Post, the city of Graedis, and every other city on Arthenis was kept at 21( C. However, those crowded around O'Reilly's radar station had all started perspiring as though it was at least fifteen degrees warmer in the building. At the moment, it wouldn't have been easy for anyone there to call this a minor problem, except maybe Roberts. Any sign that there might be more problems with the Inner Sphere numbskulls needed to be addressed quickly, and appropriately.
"Colonel: Ferris and Coleman are in position." "Good! Tell them to detain Peter Strauss before he gets to the one click mark. Tell them to stand in his way if they have to!"
Before O'Reilly could complete the order, Peter Strauss's mech had stopped in its tracks. "Sir! Look! He's stopped!"
"Where?"
"1.25 kilometers. He's turning around."
"What is he doing?" Roberts sought an answer in the faces of those staring at the radarscope, resting finally on Captain Jurick. "Captain, do you have any idea what he's doing?"
"None, sir! He was acting just fine yesterday."
"Then why wouldn't he answer when we call him on the radio?" Roberts mumbled, turning back toward the scope.
"Sir, he's started moving again! He's coming toward us, but he's moving backward."
"Moving backward? Why of all things is he moving backward?"
"I don't know, sir," Jurick said, practically frenzied.
"Wait! Sir, look: his back."
"He's damaged there too."
A split second later Louisa Ferris in her Katana contacted Command.
"Sir, were you aware that Strauss's comm. array is out?"
"His comm. array? His comm. array is out?"
"That's why he hasn't been able to say anything," added Bret Coleman, also escorting Strauss.
"Then why didn't he use his back up radio, or his suit radio?" Pembroke asked.
"Backup radio only has a range of two kilometers," Jurick said.
"Then he could have used it by now. And what about his suit radio?"
"Why don't we ask him when he gets here," Jurick said, annoyed at Pembroke's possible insinuation.
"Yes," Roberts said to everyone there. "Wesley, hold your fire. Don't shoot Strauss. Ferris, Coleman, escort Strauss to Mech Bay 3. Hold your fire. Send a security detachment to the mech bay."
A minute later, Pembroke, Winters, Jurick, Roberts, and six armed guards were all standing outside Mech Bay 3, where Peter Strauss's Eagle was heading. Inside the bay were two twenty-tonners, ready to respond if there should be any trouble with Strauss, in addition to Ferris and Coleman, who were escorting the Eagle into the bay at that moment. Once they'd entered the bay, the doors closed, air refilled the chamber, and then a dock was extended to the Eagle.
"Look at his windshield," Winters gasped. "He must have taken a hit right in the cockpit! The whole right side of the glass has gotten blasted out!"
"Get him out of there, double time," Roberts said to the security team. The seals opened up, and four of the guards entered the Eagle's cockpit from the rear. Seconds later they came outside, carrying Strauss by the arms and legs.
"Mmhphhmm, mpphpmmph, mphhmmmp," Peter said, his helmet blocking the words.
"Get his helmet off!" Jurick said. The guards sat Peter down in a nearby chair and pulled his helmet off. The sight of Peter's face shocked everyone present-though half them had never seen his face before. For those who had seen him, the smooth, white features of his face were now scraped, burned, and sand covered. What they could see of his face-the skin didn't look like sandpaper-was reddened like a cherry, as though he had been out in the sun for several hours too long.
"Peter? Peter, is that you?"
"Yes, it's me," he said calmly with a lisp, though doubtlessly in great pain. His words were slurred and those present could hardly understand.
"What happened?"
"Mechs," he said, closing his eyes and trying his best to stay awake, and keep from throwing up. "Ten mechs are coming! They're on the west side. They're coming to attack. I outran them, but . . . they shot at me. I only barely got away. They ambushed me. They're coming to attack! They said they're going to finish us off! They . . . we have to stop them!" Though Strauss was in a lot of pain, the approaching mechs were first on his mind. "We have to stop them!"
"Not you, Lieutenant," Roberts intruded. "You need medical care. Get him to the hospital right away. Winters, Jurick, Pembroke, get your lances together and meet those IS mechs before they get too close. And get everyone else together too."
"Sir," Jurick asked the Colonel, "can I be permitted to return to my bed? My lance and I were just getting to sleep when all this happened. Do you really need us?"
"I suppose not. Ten Arthenian mechs should easily be enough to take down ten IS mechs."
The guards started carrying Strauss off toward the hospital, but he called out to the Colonel once more.
"Wait, Colonel! There's one more thing. Take this. It's everything I could get in." Strauss handed Roberts a computer disk, and then the guards carried him away. Roberts returned to the Command Post with Jurick in tow, who was perhaps half asleep and didn't even know what was going on, while Ferris, Coleman, Winters, Pembroke, and most of the other warriors got in their mechs and proceeded to intercept the IS mechs.
What Strauss had given Roberts was the last hour of recordings he'd made from the Eagle's camera and sensor logs. Roberts, Jurick, and O'Reilly watched as Strauss made his way on his patrol. Soon, just as he had the day before, Strauss saw more barrels explode on the left, a few hundred meters off his patrol, creating an explosion like a flash of lightning. He went to investigate again and found many more barrels than the day before. Then, when rounding a boulder, he found himself looking straight at nine mechs, all shutdown. It took him a second to begin shooting their legs until they powered up. Then, he was just getting ready to send a message to Graedis when his comm. array was destroyed. He turned around to meet whoever had shot him from behind, but the mech blasted a hole in his windshield. The air was drained from the mech by the time Strauss managed to get his helmet on, and his face was blasted with the winds and radiation of Arthenis III. Then, with his mech quite damaged, he retreated from the battle while they continued to pound on him. He outran them, and eventually he began recording delirious ravings about the mechs and the doom impending on Graedis.
"Jurick, I thought you needed to get some sleep?" Roberts darted, pausing the transcript.
"Yes, sir, that's right, sir. I'll get to bed right now."
"Good. Your boy'll be fine. And well teach those IS imbeciles not to mess with Arthenis III any more. You just get some sleep."
"Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir."
Jurick was more than happy to return to his bed. He'd just gotten off a 10-hour shift, and he knew he was in no condition to do fighting. Still, he wanted to know why things had turned out this way. He wanted to hear if Strauss had anything more to say.
It was less than ten minutes after Jurick had gone to bed before his rest was interrupted again, this time by Limey Ross, one of the mech engineers.
"Yes, Limey? Is there some reason I've been woken up a second time tonight?"
"You heard about Strauss, sir?"
"Yes, Limey, I heard about Strauss. Good night."
"Wait, sir. The Colonel told me to get to work on fixing his mech, and . . . well, sir, there's something I think you should see."
And so for the second time, Jurick got himself dressed and left his quarters, led by Limey back to Mech Bay 3. They went up an elevating platform to the mech's right arm, where Limey showed Jurick his discovery. As Roberts had told him to do, he had been busy repairing the Eagle, and he opened up the arm to replace the damaged plating when he found that all wasn't as it should be.
"Look, sir. These aren't PBC 250's. They're not even PBC's. These are just little medium lasers."
"Medium lasers? What are they doing on his mech?"
"I'm not sure, sir."
"Did someone pull the PBC's off?"
"I don't know. I'm thinking someone knew Strauss was going to get into that fight today, and so they sabotaged him so there was no way he could win."
"But . . . why would anyone do that? That doesn't make sense. I . . . just pull the lasers out and put PBC's back in," Jurick said sleepily, turning around and walking back toward the door to leave the bay.
"Wait, sir! You're just going back to bed?"
"Nope. I'm going to the hospital to see if I can talk to Strauss about this. If there's anyone that knows, it should be him."
Jurick found room 113 where Strauss was being kept. Jurick didn't actually believe Strauss would be in a condition to speak, but he thought it was worth a shot at least. But the door was locked, and no one answered after knocking twice.
"Hello? Is anyone in there?"
No answer came.
"Hello?" Jurick stepped back from the door and gave a solid kick on it, and then two more. The door opened inward, and a sight of blood- painted walls met his eyes. Four bodies were readily visible in Jurick's view, but there was no body on the bed, where Peter Strauss should have been. Jurick walked into the room cautiously, stunned at what he saw. He walked around the bed once, and came to a stop next to the door. Then, from a corner of the small room, a sound came of someone standing up slowly. It was one of the doctors who was going to help Strauss. Jurick helped him up, and once the doctor had taken a look around the room, he spoke to Jurick.
"I don't think that was Peter Strauss."
Jurick took another look around the room, and then bolted out and toward the Command Post. Before he arrived, the whole building shuddered as a blast rocked through the city. The lights darkened, but Jurick continued down the passageway.
"What happened," Roberts asked him as the emergency lights came on.
"That wasn't Strauss," Jurick said, entering the room. "They must have captured his mech while he was out there!"
"The power core's out," Wesley Broker said to the Colonel.
"Did they sabotage it?" the Colonel asked. O'Reilly was the next to speak.
"Sir, I've just received a message from the mechs we sent out. Half them have been disabled-their legs, sir."
"The IS shot them?"
"No, sir. They said they haven't even reached the IS mechs yet."
"It can't be! Jurick, wake up what's left of your lance right away. Get out there and help Winters, Pembroke, and Nelson, on the double!"
Jurick quickly found his two remaining soldiers, who were already awake from the sound of the explosions. In a minute they were inside Mech Bay 2, where Jurick's lance was stationed, but more bad news awaited them there, from the engineer who worked on their mechs.
"It happened all of a sudden, just about the time the power went out. All of a sudden, the legs on all the mechs blew off. I think it was some sort of a bomb-a breech charge, maybe. Someone wrapped explosives around their knees, and then blew them up. They aren't going anywhere until they get repaired."
"Are there any mechs left in the city?"
"The Eagle's in Bay 3 of course, and the mechs in bays three and one have gone out."
"And half of those are disabled now."
"The only other mechs are in Bay 4. Three of those are on patrol, but the other two should still be fine."
"Good. Katherine, Wilt, go to Bay 4 and head out to help Pembroke, Nelson, and Winters."
"What about you, sir?"
"Maybe I'll take a Guardram. Just get out there!"
Katherine Bexley and Wilt Turner went to Mech Bay 4, and Jurick went to report to Roberts what had happened.
"Colonel, someone sabotaged the mechs in Bay 2! They're all down- bombs on their legs."
"Their legs?"
"That's what happened to the ones on the front," O'Reilly said.
"Wilt and Katherine are on their way to Bay 4 to get the mechs over there. Do you want me to go with them in a Guardram?"
"Damn! Why'd this have to happen? Everything was going fine until today! With only five mechs, even against the IS, we'll get creamed. Yes, Jurick, get out there and help them."
"Yes, sir."
Jurick ran off and back toward Mech Bay 2. His plan was to get into one of the Guardrams-one of the two twenty-ton mechs designed for close range combat-the last defense against anything that might attack Graedis. But, as if you haven't already guessed, all was not well in Graedis that day. When Jurick reached the hallway outside the bay, he found two dead guards on the floor. The door opened, and he found that more still was out of place. As before, three mechs had fallen to the ground, and a fourth was barely supported by its damaged leg and the wall behind it. But, the two Guardrams that had been in the room not five minutes before were now missing-and Ron Kelly, the engineer who had been working on the mechs, was lying dead on the floor next to one of them. After repossessing himself after the shocking sight, Jurick got on the intercom to Command.
"Someone's been in Bay 2. They killed the guards and Ron Kelly and stole the two Guardrams."
"They stole my Guardrams! Two of them? How? I thought this was just one person? Wait . . . Jurick, emergency power is up, and O'Reilly says he sees two Guardrams heading west on radar."
"Can we hit them?" "The turrets aren't responding." "Then I'm going after them."
Captain Jurick Donnell had spent the last nine years in Graedis since his wife and daughter had been killed in a minor attack from the Inner Sphere. At the time, Jurick had been in Graedis and was just about to retire. When they were killed, he decided he had only one important motive left in life, and that was to protect Graedis from any further IS attacks, and to prevent more such deaths. For a couple years his life remained eventful as he went on missions against the IS; but then the attacks slowed, and people started wondering why there was still a standing mech force across the planet. Even Jurick had again begun to wonder if it might be best to leave the force once and for all, even if he was the city's best warrior. But for now, Jurick was in charge of Peter Strauss's lance, the Ramblers, and so he was, naturally, the best person for Roberts to talk to about Strauss's behavior, since Roberts couldn't talk to Strauss himself. So Jurick was sleeping off shift when Captain Winters ran out of the Command Post and found Jurick's quarters and rang his doorbell.
"Wake up, Donnell! Colonel wants you!"
"Doesn't he know I'm sleeping?"
"It's important. Hurry!" Jurick shook himself awake and quickly got dressed before leaving his room and returning with Winters to Command, where Colonel Edrick Roberts tried to raise Strauss on the radio, as he, Captain Pembroke, Radar Officer Jonathan O'Reilly, and Tactical Officer Wesley Stephens crowded around the radarscope to keep track of what was going on.
"Yes, Colonel? What's this about?"
"Your Lieutenant Peter Strauss is coming back early from his patrol. We can't reach him on the radio."
"Peter Strauss?"
"Yes, Peter Strauss. Do you have any idea why he won't respond to us? Has he been acting strangely?"
"Uh, no, he's been perfectly fine. He won't talk to you?"
"Is there anything unusual that's happened lately? Why isn't he responding?"
"No, I can't think of anything unusual. Well, actually . . . there was that little thing yesterday."
"Yesterday? What happened?"
"He, uh . . . he said that while he was out on the western leg of his patrol he saw what looked like a flash of lighting. He went to investigate and found that it was an explosion-some old barrels of fuel that caught on fire."
"And you didn't report it to me?"
"They could have been there for years before exploding. The heat can do that to volatile substances, after enough time. I didn't think it was too important, anyway."
"Well, he's not responding, and we need to find out why. Go to Yellow Alert, Wesley. He's just passed the two kilometer mark."
Pembroke spoke up. "Colonel, don't we have to stop him from reaching one kilometer if he doesn't respond?"
"We do. Wesley, target Peter Strauss's Eagle. I don't want you to shoot until he reaches one kilometer though-and aim for the legs! I don't want-"
"Sir," O'Reilly interrupted, "I didn't notice it before, but looking at his cockpit . . . it looks like his mech is damaged. Maybe someone shot . . ." At O'Reilly's implication, everyone further strained their eyes to look where O'Reilly was pointing, to the forward view of Strauss's Eagle that showed some sort of damage on the cockpit.
"He's been shot," Winters gasped.
"Now don't jump to conclusions," Roberts said quickly. "There's no evidence that he's been fired on. Let's all just remain calm. The IS hasn't taken any hostile actions on Arthenis in over a year. That's about a record. Let's not let this little thing break it."
But, in spite of Robert's reassurance of his officers, everyone was concerned at what this new development might mean. Perhaps temperatures would be the way best to measure the problem Graedis was just encountering: in contrast to the seething temperatures outside, hundreds of degrees above what was tolerable for human life, the dome of the Command Post, the city of Graedis, and every other city on Arthenis was kept at 21( C. However, those crowded around O'Reilly's radar station had all started perspiring as though it was at least fifteen degrees warmer in the building. At the moment, it wouldn't have been easy for anyone there to call this a minor problem, except maybe Roberts. Any sign that there might be more problems with the Inner Sphere numbskulls needed to be addressed quickly, and appropriately.
"Colonel: Ferris and Coleman are in position." "Good! Tell them to detain Peter Strauss before he gets to the one click mark. Tell them to stand in his way if they have to!"
Before O'Reilly could complete the order, Peter Strauss's mech had stopped in its tracks. "Sir! Look! He's stopped!"
"Where?"
"1.25 kilometers. He's turning around."
"What is he doing?" Roberts sought an answer in the faces of those staring at the radarscope, resting finally on Captain Jurick. "Captain, do you have any idea what he's doing?"
"None, sir! He was acting just fine yesterday."
"Then why wouldn't he answer when we call him on the radio?" Roberts mumbled, turning back toward the scope.
"Sir, he's started moving again! He's coming toward us, but he's moving backward."
"Moving backward? Why of all things is he moving backward?"
"I don't know, sir," Jurick said, practically frenzied.
"Wait! Sir, look: his back."
"He's damaged there too."
A split second later Louisa Ferris in her Katana contacted Command.
"Sir, were you aware that Strauss's comm. array is out?"
"His comm. array? His comm. array is out?"
"That's why he hasn't been able to say anything," added Bret Coleman, also escorting Strauss.
"Then why didn't he use his back up radio, or his suit radio?" Pembroke asked.
"Backup radio only has a range of two kilometers," Jurick said.
"Then he could have used it by now. And what about his suit radio?"
"Why don't we ask him when he gets here," Jurick said, annoyed at Pembroke's possible insinuation.
"Yes," Roberts said to everyone there. "Wesley, hold your fire. Don't shoot Strauss. Ferris, Coleman, escort Strauss to Mech Bay 3. Hold your fire. Send a security detachment to the mech bay."
A minute later, Pembroke, Winters, Jurick, Roberts, and six armed guards were all standing outside Mech Bay 3, where Peter Strauss's Eagle was heading. Inside the bay were two twenty-tonners, ready to respond if there should be any trouble with Strauss, in addition to Ferris and Coleman, who were escorting the Eagle into the bay at that moment. Once they'd entered the bay, the doors closed, air refilled the chamber, and then a dock was extended to the Eagle.
"Look at his windshield," Winters gasped. "He must have taken a hit right in the cockpit! The whole right side of the glass has gotten blasted out!"
"Get him out of there, double time," Roberts said to the security team. The seals opened up, and four of the guards entered the Eagle's cockpit from the rear. Seconds later they came outside, carrying Strauss by the arms and legs.
"Mmhphhmm, mpphpmmph, mphhmmmp," Peter said, his helmet blocking the words.
"Get his helmet off!" Jurick said. The guards sat Peter down in a nearby chair and pulled his helmet off. The sight of Peter's face shocked everyone present-though half them had never seen his face before. For those who had seen him, the smooth, white features of his face were now scraped, burned, and sand covered. What they could see of his face-the skin didn't look like sandpaper-was reddened like a cherry, as though he had been out in the sun for several hours too long.
"Peter? Peter, is that you?"
"Yes, it's me," he said calmly with a lisp, though doubtlessly in great pain. His words were slurred and those present could hardly understand.
"What happened?"
"Mechs," he said, closing his eyes and trying his best to stay awake, and keep from throwing up. "Ten mechs are coming! They're on the west side. They're coming to attack. I outran them, but . . . they shot at me. I only barely got away. They ambushed me. They're coming to attack! They said they're going to finish us off! They . . . we have to stop them!" Though Strauss was in a lot of pain, the approaching mechs were first on his mind. "We have to stop them!"
"Not you, Lieutenant," Roberts intruded. "You need medical care. Get him to the hospital right away. Winters, Jurick, Pembroke, get your lances together and meet those IS mechs before they get too close. And get everyone else together too."
"Sir," Jurick asked the Colonel, "can I be permitted to return to my bed? My lance and I were just getting to sleep when all this happened. Do you really need us?"
"I suppose not. Ten Arthenian mechs should easily be enough to take down ten IS mechs."
The guards started carrying Strauss off toward the hospital, but he called out to the Colonel once more.
"Wait, Colonel! There's one more thing. Take this. It's everything I could get in." Strauss handed Roberts a computer disk, and then the guards carried him away. Roberts returned to the Command Post with Jurick in tow, who was perhaps half asleep and didn't even know what was going on, while Ferris, Coleman, Winters, Pembroke, and most of the other warriors got in their mechs and proceeded to intercept the IS mechs.
What Strauss had given Roberts was the last hour of recordings he'd made from the Eagle's camera and sensor logs. Roberts, Jurick, and O'Reilly watched as Strauss made his way on his patrol. Soon, just as he had the day before, Strauss saw more barrels explode on the left, a few hundred meters off his patrol, creating an explosion like a flash of lightning. He went to investigate again and found many more barrels than the day before. Then, when rounding a boulder, he found himself looking straight at nine mechs, all shutdown. It took him a second to begin shooting their legs until they powered up. Then, he was just getting ready to send a message to Graedis when his comm. array was destroyed. He turned around to meet whoever had shot him from behind, but the mech blasted a hole in his windshield. The air was drained from the mech by the time Strauss managed to get his helmet on, and his face was blasted with the winds and radiation of Arthenis III. Then, with his mech quite damaged, he retreated from the battle while they continued to pound on him. He outran them, and eventually he began recording delirious ravings about the mechs and the doom impending on Graedis.
"Jurick, I thought you needed to get some sleep?" Roberts darted, pausing the transcript.
"Yes, sir, that's right, sir. I'll get to bed right now."
"Good. Your boy'll be fine. And well teach those IS imbeciles not to mess with Arthenis III any more. You just get some sleep."
"Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir."
Jurick was more than happy to return to his bed. He'd just gotten off a 10-hour shift, and he knew he was in no condition to do fighting. Still, he wanted to know why things had turned out this way. He wanted to hear if Strauss had anything more to say.
It was less than ten minutes after Jurick had gone to bed before his rest was interrupted again, this time by Limey Ross, one of the mech engineers.
"Yes, Limey? Is there some reason I've been woken up a second time tonight?"
"You heard about Strauss, sir?"
"Yes, Limey, I heard about Strauss. Good night."
"Wait, sir. The Colonel told me to get to work on fixing his mech, and . . . well, sir, there's something I think you should see."
And so for the second time, Jurick got himself dressed and left his quarters, led by Limey back to Mech Bay 3. They went up an elevating platform to the mech's right arm, where Limey showed Jurick his discovery. As Roberts had told him to do, he had been busy repairing the Eagle, and he opened up the arm to replace the damaged plating when he found that all wasn't as it should be.
"Look, sir. These aren't PBC 250's. They're not even PBC's. These are just little medium lasers."
"Medium lasers? What are they doing on his mech?"
"I'm not sure, sir."
"Did someone pull the PBC's off?"
"I don't know. I'm thinking someone knew Strauss was going to get into that fight today, and so they sabotaged him so there was no way he could win."
"But . . . why would anyone do that? That doesn't make sense. I . . . just pull the lasers out and put PBC's back in," Jurick said sleepily, turning around and walking back toward the door to leave the bay.
"Wait, sir! You're just going back to bed?"
"Nope. I'm going to the hospital to see if I can talk to Strauss about this. If there's anyone that knows, it should be him."
Jurick found room 113 where Strauss was being kept. Jurick didn't actually believe Strauss would be in a condition to speak, but he thought it was worth a shot at least. But the door was locked, and no one answered after knocking twice.
"Hello? Is anyone in there?"
No answer came.
"Hello?" Jurick stepped back from the door and gave a solid kick on it, and then two more. The door opened inward, and a sight of blood- painted walls met his eyes. Four bodies were readily visible in Jurick's view, but there was no body on the bed, where Peter Strauss should have been. Jurick walked into the room cautiously, stunned at what he saw. He walked around the bed once, and came to a stop next to the door. Then, from a corner of the small room, a sound came of someone standing up slowly. It was one of the doctors who was going to help Strauss. Jurick helped him up, and once the doctor had taken a look around the room, he spoke to Jurick.
"I don't think that was Peter Strauss."
Jurick took another look around the room, and then bolted out and toward the Command Post. Before he arrived, the whole building shuddered as a blast rocked through the city. The lights darkened, but Jurick continued down the passageway.
"What happened," Roberts asked him as the emergency lights came on.
"That wasn't Strauss," Jurick said, entering the room. "They must have captured his mech while he was out there!"
"The power core's out," Wesley Broker said to the Colonel.
"Did they sabotage it?" the Colonel asked. O'Reilly was the next to speak.
"Sir, I've just received a message from the mechs we sent out. Half them have been disabled-their legs, sir."
"The IS shot them?"
"No, sir. They said they haven't even reached the IS mechs yet."
"It can't be! Jurick, wake up what's left of your lance right away. Get out there and help Winters, Pembroke, and Nelson, on the double!"
Jurick quickly found his two remaining soldiers, who were already awake from the sound of the explosions. In a minute they were inside Mech Bay 2, where Jurick's lance was stationed, but more bad news awaited them there, from the engineer who worked on their mechs.
"It happened all of a sudden, just about the time the power went out. All of a sudden, the legs on all the mechs blew off. I think it was some sort of a bomb-a breech charge, maybe. Someone wrapped explosives around their knees, and then blew them up. They aren't going anywhere until they get repaired."
"Are there any mechs left in the city?"
"The Eagle's in Bay 3 of course, and the mechs in bays three and one have gone out."
"And half of those are disabled now."
"The only other mechs are in Bay 4. Three of those are on patrol, but the other two should still be fine."
"Good. Katherine, Wilt, go to Bay 4 and head out to help Pembroke, Nelson, and Winters."
"What about you, sir?"
"Maybe I'll take a Guardram. Just get out there!"
Katherine Bexley and Wilt Turner went to Mech Bay 4, and Jurick went to report to Roberts what had happened.
"Colonel, someone sabotaged the mechs in Bay 2! They're all down- bombs on their legs."
"Their legs?"
"That's what happened to the ones on the front," O'Reilly said.
"Wilt and Katherine are on their way to Bay 4 to get the mechs over there. Do you want me to go with them in a Guardram?"
"Damn! Why'd this have to happen? Everything was going fine until today! With only five mechs, even against the IS, we'll get creamed. Yes, Jurick, get out there and help them."
"Yes, sir."
Jurick ran off and back toward Mech Bay 2. His plan was to get into one of the Guardrams-one of the two twenty-ton mechs designed for close range combat-the last defense against anything that might attack Graedis. But, as if you haven't already guessed, all was not well in Graedis that day. When Jurick reached the hallway outside the bay, he found two dead guards on the floor. The door opened, and he found that more still was out of place. As before, three mechs had fallen to the ground, and a fourth was barely supported by its damaged leg and the wall behind it. But, the two Guardrams that had been in the room not five minutes before were now missing-and Ron Kelly, the engineer who had been working on the mechs, was lying dead on the floor next to one of them. After repossessing himself after the shocking sight, Jurick got on the intercom to Command.
"Someone's been in Bay 2. They killed the guards and Ron Kelly and stole the two Guardrams."
"They stole my Guardrams! Two of them? How? I thought this was just one person? Wait . . . Jurick, emergency power is up, and O'Reilly says he sees two Guardrams heading west on radar."
"Can we hit them?" "The turrets aren't responding." "Then I'm going after them."