AUTHOR'S NOTES: A new job also means a new schedule. Try writing when you're trying to go from being a night owl to a morning person.
Targhee River Valley
Virentofta, Draconis Combine
12 September 3060
Kfir's Tigershark climbed hard out of the river valley, leaving a thin trail of smoke behind it. The lasers continued to reach for her, but suddenly broke off their fire. Vought had been heading in to try strafing the Riflemen and break their attention off of Kfir, but that was now unnecessary. As she followed Ariel up to altitude, she saw why the Clan MechWarriors had ceased firing: Siddeley's Tigersharks were coming in high. "Tiger Four, Lead. Are you okay?"
Kfir didn't reply at first, then her voice came back full of pain. "I...I don't think so, Lead...I'm bleeding..."
"Oh, shit," Vought said without keying the radio. She drew even with Kfir's Tigershark. There were holes in the armor and the port engine was smoking, but that was less of a problem. There were spots of blood shining on the canopy, where the armor was badly pitted and scarred. "My port engine is out and I'm having a little trouble..."
"Tiger Four, this is Tiger Eight, can you make it back home?" Siddeley called.
"I think so." Kfir sounded a little more confident. Maybe it's not that bad, Vought considered. Kfir had to know that if she ejected, rescuing her from what was now a known flak trap was a very iffy proposition—this was assuming that she didn't have internal injuries. An ejection then even under perfect conditions would kill her.
"What's your state, Tiger Four?" Vought asked.
"Bingo plus one," Kfir answered. Bingo fuel was the minimum needed to make it back to base, with a little to spare.
"We're at bingo minus one," Siddeley added.
"Okay, Tiger Eight, take the flight back home—we'll meet you there. Tiger Four, get as much speed as you think you can handle—we're going to have to get you back on the ground ASAP. Okay? Can you make it?"
"I can make it, Lead." Kfir's voice was steady but weak.
"Okay. Twenty minutes. We can do it."
It was the longest twenty minutes of Vought's life. Kfir had to constantly make throttle adjustments to compensate for the dead engine, and from the gasps over the open radio channel, she was in a lot of pain. Vought kept her talking as much as possible, asking questions about her engine temperature, her fuel state—anything to keep Kfir conscious and alert. It was doubly hard, because Vought had to also watch her spacing—not too close to avoid a midair collision, and not too far to lose sight of Kfir herself—her own aircraft's vital signs, and the sky around them. They were far from safe, even when Teton Field came into sight, even when the two Krynn Militia Malthis came out to escort them in. A cripple was dead if they were caught by Clan fighters.
Vought contacted the field. "Teton Tower, Tiger Lead declaring an emergency. Tiger Four is hit bad: one engine out, stabiliator damage, pilot is injured. Request straight-in approach, ambulance and fire."
"Roger, Tiger Lead. Understand Tiger Four is hit, needs an ambulance and firemen. Approach granted: Tiger Four is number one for landing. Watch for tailwinds; winds are out of the west at 12 knots. Tiger Four, are you on this frequency?"
"Roger, Teton."
The tower repeated his words to Kfir. Vought was thankful that she had a sharp controller: the man's voice was steady and reassuring. He coached Kfir onto the glidepath.
The crash alarm began to screech and the loudspeaker came to life. "Crash crews to station, clear runway three-two. Ambulance and fire stand by. IFE is Tiger Four with stabiliator damage and one engine out. Pilot is injured; medicos stand by." IFE stood for In Flight Emergency.
"Dammit! It's Ariel!" Marcus Hind leapt from under the Tigershark he was working on. He sprinted towards the runway.
"Wait, Marcus! Let the rescue team handle it!" Jed Ritter shouted after him, but he was ignored. Hind ran to catch up with a fire truck, grabbed an handhold, and was pulled aboard.
Though Teton did not have a parallel runway, Vought would stay with her almost until the moment of touchdown. "Three minutes, Ariel," Vought radioed. "Hang on."
"I...don't think I can stay awake..." Kfir's voice was fading. The Tigershark's right wing dipped dangerously before she corrected it.
"No, Ariel! Don't sleep!" Oh God, she's going into shock, Vought shuddered. "You can make it! Just two more minutes."
"Maybe I should just eject," Ariel whispered.
"No, don't eject," Vought cautioned. "Stay with it, Ariel; you're doing fine."
"Ninety seconds, Tiger Four," the tower interjected. "Is your landing gear functional?"
The landing gear came down and locked. "Three down and locked. Ninety seconds," Kfir acknowledged softly.
"No need to reply to my transmissions, Tiger Four. Looking good."
"Looking good, Ariel," Vought repeated. "I'm with you all the way. Thirty seconds...ten seconds...watch your tail..." The tail came up a little as Kfir compensated. The main landing gear touched the runway, bounced once, then settled down. The nose came down smoothly and the front gear kissed concrete without so much as a puff of smoke. "Hey, good landing, Ariel—one of your better ones!" Vought forced a laugh as she pulled up and to the right. "Help's on the way. We'll see you on the ground."
"R-Roger that, Tiger Lead...thanks." Kfir shut the engines down and let the Tigershark coast to a stop, touching the brakes just enough to slow down. She saw the fire truck stop next to her and Hind leap out. She opened the canopy as he took a running leap onto the flattened chines of the Tigershark's forward fuselage.
"Ariel! Ariel, are you all..." Hind looked into the cockpit. It looked as if someone had emptied a bucket of red paint into it. Blood covered the throttle, the stick, the instrument panel, and was spattered on the canopy. "Oh, God."
"Hi, Marcus," Ariel struggled out. "Sorry...I scratched Tiger Four up a bit..." She reached feebly up and tried to take off her helmet, her hands shaking badly. "Can you help me here? I think I'm stuck..."
Hind quickly took off her helmet. Kfir's beautiful face was untouched, except from the pain of her injuries and the tears on her cheeks. He fumbled with her harness, his hands rapidly getting slick with blood.
"Sergeant! Please get out of the way so we can do our job!" A medic had extended the boarding ladder and was tugging on Hind's pants leg. He nimbly stepped to one side, balancing on the chine. "Her harness is stuck."
The medic, a burly man, nodded and looked down. He pulled out a knife and cut through the straps. "Sergeant, safety the seat," he said, and Hind hurriedly pushed down the pins that would keep the ejection seat from firing. With a gentleness that Hind wondered if he could match himself, the medic lifted Kfir out of the cockpit and gently lowered her to waiting hands below. A stretcher was already there. As he did so, blood trickled across the fuselage and onto the tarmac. Hind could see that Kfir was not only bleeding from her arm and abdomen, but from her back as well, and the ejection seat was holed. Fragments had spalled across the cockpit and tore through Kfir. Hind jumped off the Tigershark as she was placed on the stretcher. The medics' hands raced across his lover's body, cutting away the gory flight suit, inserting an IV and plasma into Kfir's arm. Her skin was pale, her entire body shaking. Hind could tell the medics' movements were desperate.
Vought had landed and taxied to a halt just behind Kfir's aircraft, popping the canopy and racing over to them. Siddeley arrived as well, having sprinted across half the base. "Doc! Doc!" she called out. "How is she?"
The burly medic looked up, looked over at Hind, then back at Vought. Slowly, he shook his head.
"Oh, God, no." Vought breathed.
"What happened?" Hind asked helplessly.
"She-she ran into another Rifleman in Sector 46, on the Targhee." My fault, Vought thought over and over. My fault.
"I really messed up on this one, Marcus," Kfir gasped out. "Sucker play¼oldest trick in the book and I fell for it...'least I got the plane back." She smiled up at Vought. "Thanks for helping me, everyone...thanks, Major..." Vought swallowed and nodded, unable to talk. Kfir knew she was dying.
Hind gripped her hand. "Ariel, there's something I've got to ask you."
"Later, Marcus...I'm a bit tired..." Her eyelids fluttered close. Hind grabbed her, hugged her as if he could infuse his life into hers, but he felt her go slack. "Don't leave!" he shouted. "Oh no...no, Ariel...don't leave me..."
Vought fought back her tears. "Marcus...I..."
Hind gently placed Kfir back on the stretcher, then looked up at Vought. His eyes were full of sorrow and, without warning, a terrible new emotion: rage.
"Those Clan bastards. Those Clan BASTARDS!" he shouted. He suddenly turned and ran towards Tiger Four. The medic tried to stop him, but Hind shoved him out of the way. He clambered up the ladder and sat down in the damaged ejection seat, ignoring the blood of the woman he loved. Everyone watched in shock until he lowered the canopy, and Vought abruptly realized what he was going to do. "Marcus, no!" She ran up to the fuselage. He looked over at her, and their eyes locked for a moment. Vought's fingers closed on the emergency canopy release handle—when pulled, it would detonate explosive charges that would blow the canopy off; there was no way Hind could fly a supersonic aircraft with the canopy gone.
Hind shook his head and opened the throttle. The Tigershark's good engine roared to life, its intake plucking at Vought's flight suit. She had to let go of the aircraft or be sucked into it. She jumped off the ladder, slipped, and fell. The wingtip PPC missed her head by inches as Hind turned the Tigershark back towards the runway.
"Are you all right, ma'am?" Larzac shouted.
"I've got to go after him!" Vought got to her feet. "Reserve aircraft!"
"Tiger Ten is ready to go!" Larzac followed as Vought ran off to the Tigershark tarmac. Bachem and Siddeley fell in beside them, Bachem tossing Vought her helmet. Vought dashed up the ladder and had barely sat down before Larzac was already strapping her in. "Major, this fighter's only set up for interception, not for a long flight."
"It'll get me back from Sector 46, right?" In the background, she heard Hind take off.
"Yes, ma'am, that's no problem." Larzac paused. "Ariel's fighter is still damaged, and low on fuel. Even under max conservation, there's only enough for a one-way trip."
"I know," Vought said, putting on the helmet. "And he knows it too."
She closed the canopy as Larzac and Koenig pulled the chocks. Without waiting for clearance, Vought taxied towards the runway and took off.
"Chief!" Siddeley called out. "I'm taking Tiger Seven. Is it fully fueled?"
"Of course, Lieutenant." In the heat of the moment, Koenig forgot about the new rank.
"Okay—I'm going after Major Vought. Get the rest of the aircraft refueled in case we need them." She put a hand on the ladder, then stopped. "Wait, Chief! I need something added fast!"
Hind was pushing the damaged Tigershark for all it was worth, but he had to throttle back some or run out of fuel before he reached Sector 42. Vought rapidly caught up to him, sliding into position behind. "Marcus!" she called out, not bothering with a callsign. "Marcus, I know you can hear me! This is insane! You have got to turn back!" Vought saw him look back at her over his shoulder. Without warning, the speedbrakes opened on the Tigershark, instantly slowing it down. Vought slammed the stick into her left knee and rolled away, pulling the throttle back to avoid a collision. "Dammit, Marcus, stop it!"
In reply, he rolled over and dived, split-essing away from her. She followed him down, trying to cut him off at the base of his dive, only to see him reverse again back to his original course. My God, she thought, he's got a damaged fighter, no helmet, no G-suit, and he's outflying me! Vought had known Hind had been a test pilot before transferring to ground maintenance for unknown reasons, but this was a show of flying that was unbelievable. She managed to get in behind him, going to port. He broke towards her, only to have the Tigershark nearly flop over onto its back and crash, barely able to compensate for the dead weight of the wrecked engine. As he leveled out, Vought neatly slid in behind him. The cursor in her holographic Heads-Up Display centered itself between Hind's twin tails and pulsed gold, the audible tone going to a steady whine as it locked on. Vought's fingers automatically went to the trigger. At the range she was at, she could hardly miss.
"Marcus, listen to me," she said evenly. "Unless you turn back right now, I'll be forced to—"
Green pulse laser fire reached out from the valley below, bracketing the two fighters. Oh shit, Vought thought in alarm, the Riflemen. We're already over the Targhee River!
Hind noticed it too. There was only one Rifleman and he dived on it, ignoring the probing fire. His fuel hovered on empty, but he figured he had enough for one pass.
Vought held high. "Marcus, pull out!" An idea suddenly flashed in her mind. "Marcus, what about Ariel? Who's going to remember her? Do you think she'd want this, you throwing your life away?"
Hind blinked as the red haze of hate and vengeance seemed to fall away. Maybe she's right, he thought. Ariel wouldn't want it this way¼He pulled back on the stick. The engine would flame out in minutes, perhaps seconds, but he could probably make it to a safe bailout zone.
Then the second Rifleman stepped out of the woods and opened fire. The lasers didn't miss on the first try, and ripped through already weakened armor and found the other engine. It exploded in a gout of flame, even as other rents were opened in the fuselage.
"MARCUS!" Vought shouted. She almost yelled at him to eject, and then realized it would do no good: the seat was still safetied, and there was no time for him to pull the pins, assuming he could reach them.
"Thanks for trying, Major," Hind radioed, his voice calm, "but my time just ran out." He actually laughed, ironically but without bitterness. "Be seeing you, Ariel."
The Tigershark turned slightly as Marcus used his last weapon: his aircraft. The closest Rifleman kept up a steady fire, then began tottering backward, as its pilot realized in horror what was about to happen. The Tigershark slammed into the BattleMech at nearly the speed of sound. Both machines and men vanished in a towering explosion that sent pieces flying for kilometers.
Vought looked at the expanding fireball, feeling the tears roll down her cheeks. "Marcus, no¼" The other Rifleman began firing at her, but she pulled up out of range. Suddenly the laserfire shifted, firing lower. Vought saw a blur out of the corner of an eye: a Tigershark, racing in at low level. It evaded the lasers and pulled up. It's Reina!
Siddeley turned towards the remaining Rifleman, centered it in her gunsight for a moment, and fired. The two additions she had Chief Koenig put on were Thunderbolt missiles: titanic 5-ton monsters with enough explosive to level a city block. Two of them smoked away from her Tigershark and roared in at the 'Mech. A moment later, another explosion rocked the valley, this time as the last Rifleman was blown in half.
Siddeley climbed away into a suddenly silent sky, taking up position on Vought's wing. She looked over at her commander. "Noel, I saw what happened...with Marcus. I'm sorry. I'm..." But there was nothing else to say.
Vought wiped her eyes. "Let's go home, Reina."