"That's all, folks!" trilled Angel. Berry didn't respond. She checked her instruments and read-outs. Most of them were now flashing red and most of her systems had sustained some sort of damage. The last salvo must have been a full dozen SRMs from a Cavalry. She checked the status of her lancemates. Both were in pretty good shape, aside from a few scratches and grazes. Apart from the insistent noise of a warning buzzer, everything was now silent.
"You alright, sir?" asked Virus, after a pause.
"I took a volley in the back and now there are more flashing lights in my cockpit than on a whorehouse dancefloor," Berry answered, distractedly.
"I'd lend you a fire extinguisher," said Virus, thoughtfully, "but I don't have one anymore."
"Your concern is noted," Berry deadpanned back. She sighed. "OK, Hornets. Let's move out to Nav Epsilon. I'm going to have to check for cracks so keep to three-quarters speed. I don't want to end up stranded out here on my own because my knees have buckled and you two are sunning yourselves back at base."
Some of the red lights in the HUD had now blinked out or changed to less alarming colours, but the overall effect was still rather less relaxed than she would have liked. Virus and Angel accelerated off. Berry slowly wound the Raven up. Nothing exploded or caught fire, so she edged it higher by careful increments. Heat wasn't dissipating properly, but was still within safe limits. The missile flurry had probably cracked or shattered a heatsink or two.
She checked her scanner. She was sure she'd seen a red dot at the very edge, but it was hard to make out brief enemy contacts at the very edge of the scope with so many red lights still blinking on and off. She focused on the scanner and the two green dots ahead.
"Hornets, I've lost some heatsinks, but I'll be OK until we get back to base. I'm going to open up to full speed, but don't run off, will you?" She paused as she watched the speed indicator creep upwards. The temperature bars climbed, but stayed within tolerable limits. Berry could feel the waste heat bleeding into the cabin, but the need to get back to the cover of the base overrode the desire to stay cool. Her comms crackled.
"Berry, I just saw a contact. Nine o'clock. Didn't get a chance to see what it was."
"Acknowledged." Berry sometimes forgot that she now had another pair of eyes in the lance that were as good in many ways as those of her own Raven. The company techs still had no idea how it worked, but the Cougar was a formidable recon platform in its own right. "Change course, right twenty degrees."
The confirmation of an enemy contact at the edge of their 2km scanner range was a seriously unwanted complication at this stage. Her own mech was a mess and in need of some serious repairs. Angel and Virus were in better shape, but unless the enemy contacts were few in number and weakly armed, their light mechs would not hold out well against another attack. She also had to consider that 'Doorbell I' was only the first of a series of missions. The recon lights of Hornet lance would be needed again. Jeopardising the lance at this early stage would compromise operations badly later down the line. It also seemed that the contact could hold pace with them, which was still more unsettling. (The idea that the dots she and Angel had seen were different vehicles was just too horrible to contemplate, implying as it did the existence of any number of enemies, waiting out there in the desert in relays.) Whoever had missed that airbase would be getting a serious grilling when they returned to Wingate.
She considered the enemy units they knew of. There had been the three heavy mechs from the base, plus the crippled Crusader which would have been unable to make it this far in this time with the damage it had sustained. None of the heavies they had encountered had sensors anything like as good as her and Angel's. The enemy or enemies they had momentarily spotted knew how far to stay out to avoid being positively ID'd. A normal Warhammer, for example, wouldn't be able to do this. Herself and Angel would be able to see it long before it knew it was anywhere near them. In this respect, the heavies would be blundering about in the dark whilst Hornet lance were bathed in radiant sunshine. The same could be said for the Bulldog that Berry had had on scope as they had barrelled away from the base. The tank, like any normal armour, would be very myopic in comparison to the two recon mechs and would most likely have been sent back to defend the base, where its weak senses could be supplemented by those of the base itself. The blind leading the blind.
She weighed up further possibilities. It was certain that the helicopter squadron would have reported the location of their action to whoever or whatever was in range, so it was likely their approximate location was known to the enemy. The heavies were too short-sighted and too slow to keep up, but there was the possibility of a third party passing on information about the Hornets' location and how far they should stay away to remain out of sensor range. Berry had fought in engagements where mech forces had used infantry or light armour as their eyes and ears, meaning they could choose their engagements with more certainty of success. Berry estimated they had been skirmishing with the choppers long enough to give the heavies time to overtake them.
It was also possible that the contacts were another squadron of choppers from the undetected air base. And if the contacts were keeping up and maintaining a parallel course, they could be light tanks or recon skimmers with upgraded sensor packages. Not much of a threat on their own, but potentially deadly in terms of who they might pass their information on to.
If the contacts were running parallel to the path the Hornets were taking, by returning to Nav Epsilon they would effectively be pointing a huge, flashing neon sign at the base for all to see. They had to ID the contacts. It was their job, after all. Berry sighed again.
"We gotta find out what those contacts are, Hornets," she declared. She noticed she had said 'contacts'. Plural.
There was a period of silence.
"Do we really have to?" asked Virus. "Can we not return to base and let the rest of the force sort out whatever it is?"
"That way we reveal to whoever they are where our base is," Berry responded. "We go back to Nav Omega, they shadow us back there and the rest of our guys come out and find no-one to shoot at, as they've gone back to wherever they came from to gather as many mechs as they can."
Berry imagined Virus had his grim face on. "I guess so," he answered eventually.
"Just so," said Berry. "We need to go see what's out there. You two turn west. I want you to hold full throttle on parallel courses on heading two-six-zero, with a separation of 150 metres. I'll be behind you, but I have to be careful about getting hit."
"Like we don't?" goggled Angel.
"If you get hit, you'll be annoyed. If I get hit, I'm toast. Come on. You know I'd do it for you if it were the other way round." She heard Virus snort. Angel maintain a dignified silence.
"OK, I want you to turn and split... now!" The Cougar and the Spector turned and separated like clockwork. Berry thudded on to the point where they had turned and did the same.
"Eyes open, guys, especially you, Angel."
"No contacts yet, Sir. No, wait, there is one... no, it's gone. Right on the edge. Skimmer. Bolted as soon as I came into sensor range. I think this may be a trap."
"No shit, sister, but we've got to find out enemy strength and composition. Any skimmers and light tanks we can handle. Anything bigger we can outrun, especially as we have 2 klicks headstart. If my well-documented sixth sense kicks in, we'll scram. Until then, we keep going to see what's in the 'hood."
"Errr, correct me if I'm wrong," interjected Virus, "but wasn't your famous sixth sense involved in the incident in which we lost China and Pacquet?"
In her cockpit, Berry flushed.
"Shut the fuck up."
China and Pacquet. The Shale Canyon Joyride. That was unfair and Virus knew it. They'd all been fucked over that night and it had been Berry who had managed to get the rest of them out of there after China had been jumped at the head of the column. Pacquet had been hit by an Arrow IV strike on the way out. There was nothing anybody could have done. It could have been any of them. Just dumb luck. Not something Berry needed on her mind right now. The canyon had been her call, but she'd had no way of knowing that it was an ambush. They were a recon force and it was their job to find things like that out. Pacquet and China had both been good, experienced pilots and had known the risks. Her and Virus would have words when they got back. She didn't remember him suggesting any other route.
"Contact! Three recon skimmers and two fast scout cars at ten o'clock, 1800 metres and closing."
"That's the one!" called Berry. "Hold course, kids. Let them get in range, then pick them off. They're trying to get us to wade into them and leave ourselves open to the main strike from somewhere around three o'clock. We gotta keep the speed up and stay on course, 'cos then we've got more outs. Let them show us where they are."
"Roger."
"Roger, there."
Berry watched as her lancemates turned their guns to face the threats.
"1200 metres," announced Angel. "Virus, you're closer to the bogies than me. You should be getting them on your scope any second."
"I'm in!" shouted Virus, joyfully. "Two skimmers. Taking out the closest now. 800 metres. Cher-ching!" A red dot disappeared from Berry's sensors.
"Two more skimmers coming into my range. One down." Angel fired again and this time Berry was able to see the flash and cloud from the explosion as ammunition or some other explosive cooked off. "Two down. All skimmers accounted for. You got confirm on our wheeled friends, Virus?" Berry could hear the sass coming back into Angel's voice. She had been scared by the idea of being lured into a trap, but now she had forgotten all that and was having fun.
"Yep, two scout cars at about ten o'clock. The first is trying to cut across us. Well that's not going to work. Large laser charged and... Dammit! He went into a dip."
"Ha ha! Pay attention, Virus. That's another one to me."
"Balls." Virus went quiet. Berry checked her scope again.
"Hey, people. There's another scout car out there. I'm sitting in a mech with more holes than a sieve. I don't even want to face a peasant with a bow and arrow, let alone a scout car." Berry's HUD and data screens were becoming increasingly erratic as heat levels wavered on the edge of dangerous. There was no way of telling what damage the Raven would be able to take.
"Worry not, sir. I've got it." Berry looked to her left and saw a beam from Virus's mech find its target. There was no explosion, however. "I hit it, but it's still breathing. Do you want us to break off?"
"No," broadcast Berry. "Stay on course. I'll handle it." She swivelled her Raven's torso to track the scout car. She would need it within 450 metres to get the reach on it, and she guessed the scout car would be in exactly the same situation."
"Come on, fucko. 600 metres. 550. 500. 450..." she and the scout car fired simultaneously. Her heat scale jumped to critical levels. The scout car erupted in a spectacular, fiery explosion, with elements leaving flaming trails through the air before crashing and tumbling across the desert. Its lasers passed behind the Raven.
"Good shootin', cap'n!" laughed Virus.
"This thing just isn't dissipating heat. Another shot or hit and it's just going to overload and shut down. I'll have to..."
"Contact!" shouted Angel. "One thirty on the clock. Scope says it's a Warhammer." There was a fraction of silence as Berry considered issuing an order, but Angel beat her to it. "Another contact! Catapult, one o'clock. And another. Two Catapults. Heading straight for us. They're adjusting to account for our course and speed." Berry suddenly felt cold.
"For the love of God!" she spat. "Change course to heading 220˚. Get AWAY! Hopefully they'll follow and we'll be able to call out the big guns to cut them down when we get close enough to Omega. Until then, don't endanger yourselves." She threw the Raven into a hard left turn. Another red dot appeared.
"Shit! Now I'm showing a Highlander coming in from the left. U-TURN, EVERYONE! The only way out of this is the way we came in." She was suddenly coursing with adrenaline. "Keep your heads down! We'll retrace our steps and get the rest of the battle group to meet us."
"Jesus!" exclaimed Virus. "That Highlander has got range. He just missed me with a slug the size of a dropship."
"Gauss rifle. Just keep moving. He's got range, but not much speed." The lance had now performed a rapid about-face, but Virus's turn had taken him closer to the Highlander than he would have liked. Instead of forming a triangle, the Hornets were now arranged in a line, with Berry's battered Raven at the front and Virus's Spector bringing up the rear.
"Motherfucker!" he howled. "If one of those shells catches me, I'm going to have more hole than mech left under me! That last one must have missed by less than an inch!"
"Virus, will you shut the fuck up?" answered Berry, bluntly. Virus left his communications channel open and Berry was able to hear him breathing under the sparse soundtrack of bleeps, chirrups and warning chimes in his cockpit as the Spector tried to avoid being targeted. Berry took a second to evaluate the situation, but was interrupted by an 'enemy detected' tone. She took a deep breath.
"Heads up! We've got another mech ahead. Archer, eleven o'clock, 1800 metres out… 1700… 1600 and closing. Follow me on heading 315. We're going to have to slip through the gap between the Archer and the rest of the units incoming from seven o'clock. Virus, this will be a bit hot for you, as you'll be their closest target, but just keep moving."
"Thank you, sir. My cup runneth over. Should we not break right? The Warhammer is closer to closing the gap on our left than the Highlander is on our right."
"The Highlander has more range and breaking right would mean we had to take the long way round. Don't question, Virus. Just do it." She took a deep breath. "And guys, if I get hit, don't hang around. Get back to Omega and get yourselves safe. That's an order."
"Acknowledged, sir."
"Acknowledged."
There was a brief calm. Berry checked her temperature gauge. Falling slowly, but still too high. Heatsinks obviously shot to hell. The only dissipation would be coming as heat bled off in the airstream passing over the skin of the Raven, turning the whole mech into one big, but inefficient heatsink. This process would slowly reduce the ambient temperature, but any further exterior input would blow it through the roof and shut the mech down.
"OK, Hornets. Archer at 800 metres. Heading 315 on my mark. MARK!"
As one, the lance hung a left and aimed for open space.
Berry heard a lock-on tone.
Oh God, no, she thought. A full volley from an Archer. 40 LRMs incoming. She checked the instrument panel. ECM warning light flashing. Out of action.
"Good luck, guys." A PPC bolt lanced across in front of her. Jaws closing.
"Taking fire here," she heard Virus calmly intone. "PPCs and LRMs. No hits yet." She heard the symphony of synthesised tones of a mech cockpit during a battle once more from Virus's radio channel. A prominent tone announced a missile lock-on, immediately countered by the 'screeeeee' of the Spector's ECM kicking in to jam it. There was a muffled explosion that Berry guessed was a near-miss.
A green point appeared at the edge of the scanner. Approaching fast.
"Friendlies ahead." She heard her own voice, calm but with an edge of surprise.
"I heard there was a party going on."
"Falco?"
Then the Raven was bodily lifted into the air and thrown to the ground. In its weakened state, the Raven was flattened by the wall of missiles like a sandcastle before a tidal wave. The cockpit lit up with the glow of detonations and the flash of missile motors and was engulfed by a sound like hell as the projectiles tried to pummel her into the desert sand. The spindly mech crashed and rolled.