AUTHOR'S NOTES: I actually would've had this chapter done a lot sooner, had I not caught the mother of all flu bugs over Thanksgiving. Two trips to the doctor later, and I'm getting better, though I still feel like a 'Mech did a tap dance on my stomach. The pain, it burns.
Anyhow, this is my air battle chapter. Fighter pilots don't get much "air time" in the Battletech universe (air…I made a pun, hurh hurh), so I felt something had to be mentioned about the Snowbirds' little air squadron. I think most Battletech authors don't write much aerial fighting fiction because it takes so long to knock down an aerospace fighter in comparison to today's or World War II's aircraft. But this was fun to write, and had it not been for the flu, I would've had this done last week.
As for Rainbow Levine, yes, she is a lesbian (the original character in Shanda the Panda was a lesbian, though that Rainbow was/is a much better person). Her homosexuality is part of her character, but it isn't her entire character; she'd be trouble for Sheila if she was straight or gay. The point is to make an anti-Sheila: whereas Sheila is decidedly heterosexual and happily (and enthusiastically) married, Rainbow is neither; whereas Sheila is a warrior who fights for pay, Levine is a pacifist who disdains money. The character of Penny Salvatore (likewise based on a Shanda character, Pandora Sabatier) represents the balance between the two.
Oh, and the nude male statue planted upside down in Levine's yard? My next door neighbor where I used to live had that. Yeah, it was weird.
Anyhow, enjoy…
REVIEWER'S CORNER:
Pacificuser/Bien: Yeah, the fire still burns (unfortunately, right now it burns in my stomach…oorgh). My dad is a big Doug Reeman fan, but I've never had a chance to read his stuff—I'm more of a Bernard Cornwell guy, which probably shows up in my writing. Tell your sister that I unfortunately bear no resemblance to Errol Flynn, but make a pretty good Gendo Ikari. I'd make a lousy Jack Sparrow. Johnny Depp gets me dizzy just watching him.
Panzerfaust: I hadn't thought about that with the abatis, but I like it. And I think you've got a pretty good lock on Levine's character.
FraserMage: MechWarriors underestimate infantry at their peril, true enough. Thanks for the info on the fax machines; I didn't know they had gone into that much detail on them in the books. (Though I seem to recall Justin Allard saying something in Blood Legacy that the FedCom had accounted for all the faxes in the Fourth Succession War, but had come up short in 3039. I'll go with your explanation and put it down to Sheila's ignorance.)
MUSIC CORNER: What better music than "TIE Fighter Attack" and "The Battle of Yavin" from the Star Wars: A New Hope soundtrack? ("Information High" from Macross Plus ain't half bad either.)
Toriyama
Kagoshima, Pesht District, Draconis Combine
29 December 3051
"You sure you don't want me or Nisa to come with you?" Max asked Sheila.
Sheila shook her head. "No, that's all right…probably best if I go alone." Sheila had decided to wait until after dinner to meet with Rainbow Levine; she didn't feel like doing it on an empty stomach.
"You sure you'll be okay?"
Sheila rolled her eyes. "Max, the day that I get my ass whipped by pacifists is the day I hang up my jock." She winced. "Wow, that was so not the 'old Dad saying' I wanted to use."
Max laughed. "Yeah, I don't think so either. Last I checked, which was this morning, you're still a girl, Sheila." She blushed. Max had launched a surprise attack on her in the shower, one which she didn't mind losing. He turned serious again. "You're absolutely sure? It's not the best idea to go bearding a lioness in her den."
"Yes, Max, I'm sure."
He adjusted the collar on her fatigues. "Well, don't stay out too late. I'll be waiting up with bandages and antiseptic."
"Don't forget an icepack for all the hot air she'll be blowing on me." She kissed Max, walked down the ramp of the Minerva, and walked across the Toriyama mesa. Work continued under 'Mech searchlights and rigged sodium lamps. How anyone could sleep through it was amazing, but Sheila stepped around knots of exhausted militia, who had built bonfires for warmth and stacked arms close by in case of a surprise Smoke Jaguar attack. It had finally turned cold, and flurries of snow fell from thick clouds, though the clouds were starting to break up over Toriyama Bay. It had a very ancient warfare feel to it, when men only had flintlock muskets and bronze artillery to kill each other with. Sheila looked west, to where the lights of Kagoshima City distantly lit up the cloud base; it couldn't be much longer.
A guard saluted her when she came near the village. "Good evening, Commander."
"Good evening, ah, Hojuhei." Sheila had to take a second to remember the Japanese name for a private. "I'm going over to the village. Has there been any problems?"
"No, ma'am, not for the most part. Some of the children threw rocks at us at first, but nothing major. We're obeying your orders to stay at least twenty meters away. Do you want an escort, Commander?"
Sheila smiled; it seemed like everyone wanted to make sure she would be all right tonight. "That's not necessary, Hojuhei, but thank you nonetheless. I'll yell if I need help." She tapped the radio mike at her throat. He nodded, saluted again, and followed her with his eyes as she walked past, though he said nothing more. Sheila had noticed he was an older man, her father's age, and probably one of the more experienced militiamen. Still, the bit about throwing rocks was disconcerting. That had to stop.
Sheila entered the village, which was remarkably quiet. The houses here were stout, built to survive the tough winter storms that blew in off the bay; most of them were made of concrete. All were decorated to one extent or another, some in quite beautiful paintings, others in the loudest and bizarre fashion possible. Apparently Levine's mayoral duties were pretty limited: the street was newly-paved and some of the houses were meticulously well-kept, while others looked like junkyards. It occurred to Sheila that she didn't know which house was Levine's, but since most had signs on the door or in their yards identifying the occupant, she hoped this wouldn't be too much of a problem.
Finally, at the end of the street and just short of the cliff that marked the southern face of Toriyama, Sheila found Levine's house. The yard was fenced off and filled with various sculptures, all of which were excellent and all of which were nude. Levine was equal opportunity, and there were as many males as females, though Sheila wasn't sure of what to make of the male who was only visible from the waist down because he was planted into the ground headfirst, or the woman who was in the pose of the Venus de Milo, but with metal pipes where her arms should be. The gate wasn't locked, though it jingled loudly when she opened it. Levine had also decorated her house with Christmas lights, which gave a sense of good holiday cheer that Sheila didn't really feel. She knocked on the door, and smelled a rather pleasant odor of hickory smoke mixed with apple cider.
"Hello! Good eve…ning." Rainbow Levine answered the door with a smile that died instantly on seeing Sheila. "What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded.
Sheila bowed, knowing full well that Levine would have to return it or look a fool. The other woman did so, awkwardly. "Good evening to you, too," Sheila said with just a hint of sarcasm. "I came to talk."
"We've got nothing to talk about," Levine snarled back.
"I disagree. We've got plenty to talk about, namely the defense of this mountain. And if it's all the same to you, I'd like to talk inside rather than start screaming about it and disturb the neighbors."
"Ha! Like there hasn't been enough disturbances with you digging up half the mountain." Nonetheless, she sighed and motioned Sheila inside. It was warm and pleasant in Levine's house, and Sheila could see that the interior had been paneled in wood to hide the concrete. Levine's artistic talent extended to the interior, though Sheila felt that the art was a little bizarre; she didn't know how Levine or her child managed to eat with a dizzying, tie-dyed spiral hanging opposite their table.
"Rainbow, who is it? Oh!" Another woman walked into the room from the kitchen. Sheila, used to being taller than most women, was surprised to be at level eyes with someone. The woman was exceptionally well-built with what writers might call a Junoesque body, but her smile was genuine. "Hello," the woman said, "I'm Penny Salvatore. You're Sheila Arla-Vlata?"
"I am." Sheila hesitantly shook Salvatore's hand. She noticed the table was set for two, with candles. "I suppose I'm interrupting your dinner."
"Yes, you are, so say your piece and get out." Rainbow's anger had not diminished one bit.
Salvatore looked shocked. "Rainbow, that's no way to be to a guest. Remember hospitality!"
"She doesn't merit it. Not her kind."
"Well, I'll show some hospitality," Salvatore said defiantly. "Would you like something to drink, Miss Arla-Vlata? A coffee, or something to eat? We've got pie."
"Maybe just some coffee. I just ate." Sheila idly wondered if Levine would try to poison her. Seeing the other woman trying to burn a hole through her with her eyes, Sheila took a deep breath, told herself to play nice, and looked around the living room. "You're really an exceptional artist, Miss Levine. Honestly. You've got an appreciation for the human form." Sheila couldn't resist blushing a little; some of the nudes hanging on the wall were fairly provocative, and she wondered what Levine's daughter thought of it. There was no sign of her, and Sheila wondered if the little girl was truly Levine's child or if the village was communal even with its children.
"Well, thank you." Levine's tone left no illusion that she truly felt thanked. "I make enough off these to keep me happy and keep my taxes paid, may God and Her angels curse the Dragon. Penny is my model." Levine looked Sheila up and down, giving the younger woman the uncomfortable sensation of being mentally stripped. "You look to have quite the figure yourself, Miss Arla-Vlata. Perhaps you'd like to model for me?"
Sheila didn't take the bait and only smiled maddeningly at Levine. "Yeah, maybe I will sometime. My husband would love it. Thanks, Miss Salvatore," she said, taking the mug of coffee. "Can we sit?"
"I'd rather stand."
"Miss Levine, stop it." Sheila took a sip of the coffee. "Can we quit the posturing and get down to business?"
"The quicker this is over the better. Speak your piece." Levine detached herself from Salvatore and dropped into a rocking chair.
"All right." Sheila took another sip of the coffee—which was actually quite good—and leaned against the wall. "As you know, the Smoke Jaguars grounded on Kagoshima a few days ago—"
"How could I not know? I saw the smoke from Greenfields. I saw your battalion stagger up here. Seems to me you've been defeated. Why don't you just leave?"
"I can't do that—"
"No, of course not," Levine sneered. "You couldn't get in another kill-fest that way, could you?" She turned to Salvatore. "That's all they care about, Penny: killing."
Sheila fought down the urge to see if she could smash Levine through a wall; it would make her feel better, but it would also make Levine's point. "I can't do that," Sheila finished, "because I have a duty to resist. Something I thought maybe you'd understand."
"Oh, I understand it. It's the same thing that led Satoridon to his death, Arla-Vlata, and it'll kill you too. I have no problem with that, except that my people are going to die as well."
"Not if you leave."
Levine shot to her feet and twirled around, arms wide. "Give up all of this? Carry it out on my back? I have another idea, Arla-Vlata—why don't you leave, and leave us in peace?"
"You think living under the Smoke Jaguars will be all cuddly and kind?" Sheila demanded.
"Who cares? They're all the same—either Coordinator Asshole-sama or Star Colonel Shithead. They'll leave us alone."
"Maybe. I don't think they'll be as kind to the people of Kagoshima."
"That's their problem and none of mine."
There was no humor in Sheila's smile. "Oh, I beg to differ, Miss Levine. Because I think the people of Kagoshima deserve a choice in the matter, so I'm staying right here on Toriyama. I'm drawing the line: no further. I'm building a wall around this damn mountaintop to give us a better chance when the Jaguars come—and they will—and right now your village is a big blind spot in my defenses. I'm going to build a wall around here," she said, watching Levine turn pale, "and I'm going to put tanks and infantry right in your front lawn."
"You'd bring war to my children?" Levine breathed, horrified.
"No. The Smoke Jaguars will. Even if I left Kagoshima tonight, they'd come eventually. Sure, they'd leave you alone at first, until you said or did something that upset them. Then they'd kill you, Rainbow Levine, and your children, because that is what they do. I've seen what the Clans do. Firsthand." She held up her artificial arm for their inspection. "When I model for you, make sure you get the colors of my arm right. While you're at it, make sure that you get the scars between my breasts right where the docs had to repair the muscles that were torn when the Clans tortured me into insensibility." Sheila drank more of her coffee, pausing to rein in her temper. "We've got maybe another 24 hours, if that. I need to have the wall finished by then, so you'd better start evacuating tomorrow morning. I'll send every spare person I have to help. After the battle's over, you can have your village back, but I need it now. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is."
Levine laughed bitterly. "There'll be nothing left of it!"
"You can rebuild it, then."
Salvatore looked from Levine to Sheila and back. "Would the Smoke Jaguars allow it if you lose?"
"I don't know, but we're not going to lose, Miss Salvatore." Sheila knew the odds, but she couldn't let anyone know how she felt, much less civilians. Panic could spread very quickly if they thought there was any chance of a Jaguar victory at Toriyama.
"Except the fact that you are going to lose!" Levine exclaimed.
"No, I'm not, but if you stay here, it makes my job that much harder." Sheila finished the coffee. "Like I said, I'll do everything I can to help. We'll find you lodging in Iwakuni, at government expense. I'll make sure you get the money to rebuild, whatever happens."
"Now you're trying to buy me off, just like a true mercenary. Well, I have a price, Arla-Vlata, and it's one you can never pay." Levine walked to the door and flung it open. "Now get out, whore. Because that's what you are, a damned whore who sells herself to the highest bidder. And when your bulldozers and 'Mechs come tomorrow, I'll stand in front of them until they run me over, but I will not leave my home! Now get out!" Her voice rose to a shout.
"Dammit, Levine, I'm trying—" Sheila was cut off when the lights abruptly went out, plunging Toriyama into darkness.
"Power outage?" Salvatore asked.
Then they heard the mournful wail of sirens. "Air raid," Sheila replied.
Inside the Minerva's nose was a radar that gave coverage as far as Kagoshima City, a powerful set that detected something—several somethings. The electronic brain of the Minerva rapidly processed this data, identified the objects as aerofighters, and sent out a query to determine if the fighters were friends or foes. When it came back negative, the alarms went off. Two seconds after that, a militiaman was turning an ancient hand-cranked siren, which was taken up by others on the base. Max dashed out of his and Sheila's room and was to the bridge in moments, quickly joined by Captain Baron.
Virginia Lossiemouth, who had been asleep on a cot in Toriyama's other hangar, leapt to her feet, grabbed her helmet, and was halfway to her aircraft before she even completely woke up. She scrambled up the built-in ladder and dropped into her seat, pulling on her gloves and then her helmet. Her crew chief stood with one foot on the ladder and one on the canard of her F-92 Stingray fighter as he helped her strap in, connecting oxygen feed and G-suit connections. As he did so, Lossiemouth's hands sped around the cockpit, flipping switches from memory, bringing her fighter to life. It was something she could do literally in her sleep: she knew her Stingray better than she could know any lover. His pilot ready, the crew chief slapped her on the shoulder, dropped to the ferrocrete below, and pressed the button that retracted the ladder into the fuselage. The engine shrieked to life, and Lossiemouth leaned out, fists together, thumbs out, then brought her fists away from each other. The crew chief signaled, and astechs pulled the chocks free from the wheels. She threw her crew chief a sharp salute and lowered the canopy, which sealed with a hiss, and taxied the Stingray to the runway. Her wingman waited at the edge; Toriyama had only one active runway.
Lossiemouth spoke into her mask. "Minerva, Nessie, request immediate clearance for two."
"Granted," Baron replied, "cleared for runway nine-three, winds out of the south at twenty kph, barometer steady, ground temperature ten above, broken clouds at five thousand. Check back in once you're up."
"Rog," she replied, and pushed the throttle forward. The Stingray's fusion engine replied instantly, and soon the small fighter was in the air, Lossiemouth's hands steady on stick and throttle. She loved the Marik-built fighter: the Stingray's shape was unique in the Inner Sphere, with forward-swept wings and large canards, close-coupled fuselage, and blunt nose. It was quick and very agile, but a handful to fly for an inexperienced pilot, which Lossiemouth wasn't. She made a quick circle of the base and spotted her wingman, Victor "Nut" dal-Windas, climbing to reach her; like Lossiemouth, he also flew a Stingray. She then saw the four combat air patrol fighters, which had been on a lazy, boring orbit over Toriyama Bay, heading for her like four diamonds, their afterburners lit. "Hello, Stomper Flight, this is Nessie. Join up on me." She curled around and they fell in behind her and dal-Windas. She counted them as they did so: Karl "Treeman" Baum, who flew a twin-tailed Lucifer; Terrence "Sultry" d'Sotra, in yet another Stingray; Linda "Mermaid" Yrth, in a tiny Sparrowhawk; and finally Yolanda "Batgirl" Richardson, who was flying a circular-winged TR-7 Thrush. None of the fighters were built by the same company or House; like many mercenary units, the Sentinels couldn't afford to equip its squadrons with a single type of aircraft but had to fly whatever they could get hold of. "Minerva, Nessie, what do you have for me?" She sounded slightly bored.
"Nessie, raid count is ten bandits, heading—" Baron paused for a moment, and when his voice came back, it was an octave higher. "Warning, warning, bandits now split into two groups. Raid One is five bandits, heading zero-three-zero, altitude ten; Raid Two is five bandits heading zero-nine-eight, descending from altitude six." Lossiemouth quickly translated: five Clan fighters were moving roughly east at a thousand meters altitude, while five more had turned southeast and were descending from six hundred meters. She had no idea what she would be facing, as the Minerva's radar could not tell what type, nor could she tell if one flight or both was carrying bombs or was up for strictly air-to-air. It didn't matter: she had to stop them, and she was outnumbered. "Minerva, scramble the alert five at Chitose; we're gonna need some help."
"Already done, Nessie. Good luck, Minerva out." Baron knew there was nothing more he could do at this point: it was a fighter pilot's battle now.
Nessie risked switching on her radar, knowing the Smoke Jaguar fighters would detect it instantly. The distance was closing rapidly. "Nut, you and Treeman hang back and defend the base. The rest o' you, follow me." She advanced the throttle again; fuel wasn't a concern now. She had to meet the first raid as far out as possible; it left dal-Windas and Baum alone over Toriyama against Raid Two, but with luck the remaining fighters of her squadron would be on station soon. Until then, Toriyama was pretty formidable itself, as the DropShips would have people in the turrets that festooned the two ships. She checked the sky around her, which had mostly cleared to reveal Kagoshima's moon. The Kamuri Valley was dark: someone had switched off the lights on Toriyama to make it harder to see, but apparently the farmers in the valley had done the same. It made no difference, because sensors could see in the dark quite easily, and the moonlight reflecting off the snow lit up the whole area. D'Sotra had taken up position behind and to her right, while Yrth and Richardson were above and to the left. She worried about them: Richardson had five combat missions under her belt, but Yrth had only one. So far, her Fighter Squadron Six had seen little action, but that looked like it was about to change.
Sheila, Levine, and Salvatore were standing outside Levine's house, the cold forgotten as they watched the glowing darts of the fighters race off to the north. "What are they doing, leaving us?" Levine exclaimed.
Sheila rolled her eyes. "You know, you'd think that someone who hates war so much would at least take the time to learn a little about it. They're going to try to catch the Clanners as far out as they can."
"Why?"
"So they don't blow the hell out of us." Sheila watched the formation separate, had a strange wish that she was with them, and prayed. Furey was making his move at last.
"Mermaid here, tally-ho!" Yrth sang out. "Bandits, bandits, twelve o'clock low!"
Lossiemouth's eyes shot to that location, which would be directly ahead and down. There. She could see five shadows flitting across Kaimonyama Ridge, stark against the snow. "Roger, here we go; Stompers, engage." Normally she would let them go past, then sweep in behind, but they had to keep them away from Toriyama as much as possible. Lossiemouth would take them head-on. She pushed the stick forward and dived.
As they got closer, she was mildly shocked to see not the now-familiar shape of Clan Omnifighters, but rather older designs she had only seen in museums: Star League-era fighters. Of the five, two of them were delta-winged Tomahawks, two bizarre-looking Zeros, and the last a heavy Ironsides. All were as agile or more so than her Stingray, and if they were Clan, they packed a heavier punch. She picked out the Ironsides, figuring it had to be the flight leader, let the gunsight creep over it, and fired. The Stingray armed a single PPC in the nose, two large lasers and two medium lasers in the wings, and she fired all but the medium lasers. The heat in the cockpit rose slightly, and Lossiemouth thanked God and Nicia Caii that the Sentinels had retrofitted her squadron with the new double heat sinks before leaving Sudeten.
The Ironsides looked like a manta ray, with large, wide wings, twin tails, and two jutting noses with the cockpit between them. Her canopy polarized automatically to preserve her night vision as the cobalt blue PPC bolt and one ruby laserbeam connected with the Clan fighter, scoring furrows behind the cockpit and vaporizing armor. The fighter wobbled, pitched upwards as the pilot skidded the Ironsides and returned fire with his PPCs, mounted in the noses. Lossiemouth was quicker, throwing the throttle back and pushing the stick into her right knee, causing the Stingray to nearly stall; as the Ironsides shot past, she hammerheaded her fighter and dropped neatly on the Clansman's tail. She got in two medium laser shots which ripped into the thick rear armor. Suddenly, bombs fell away from the Ironsides and it turned hard to get away from her, the Clan fighter pilot evidently deciding that killing Lossiemouth was more important than bombing Toriyama. She stayed with him, cutting inside his turn, her G-suit squeezing her hard to keep blood in her head and prevent her passing out as the Stingray strained past eight Gs. Her violent manuevering had thrown off d'Sotra, who shrugged inwardly; there wasn't much chance staying with Lossiemouth in this kind of fight.
The remaining four Clan fighters split up into two-man sections. The light Zeros, so named because the wings were set nearly at the fighter's nose, making it bear some resemblance to the ancient Japanese fighter, broke hard to the east, over the Chickugo River, while the faster Tomhawks pressed on for Toriyama, leaving the slower Sentinel fighters behind. The exception to this was Yrth's Sparrowhawk, which was both the fastest fighter in the air and also the lightest. She slammed her throttle to the stops and began gaining on the rearmost Tomahawk. The pilot spotted her and got even lower, skimming over the rice paddies, but it didn't help: Yrth opened fire and connected with all four of her medium lasers, sending fragments of armor flying off. The Tomahawk shuddered, climbed a little, and slowed down. "I've got him!" Yrth shouted, and closed for the kill.
D'Sotra, having lost Lossiemouth for good, had climbed high to get some idea of what was going on. He saw it, keen eyes picking out that there was no fire or smoke from the Clan fighter. "Mermaid, break off! It's a sucker play!"
It was too late. The Tomahawk suddenly barrel-rolled, killing its speed, and dropped in behind Yrth, opening fire with the large lasers in the wings and medium lasers in the nose. All four beams struck the Sparrowhawk's right wing. A microsecond later, the wing folded in on itself then snapped off, sending the Sparrowhawk into a lethal spin that terminated a moment later on the side of Hikari Ridge. Yrth barely had time to register she had been hit, let alone time to eject.
D'Sotra gritted his teeth and dived, knowing that the Tomahawk pilot had just gotten a kill, but made a fatal mistake at the same time: the manuevering had slowed him down, but now the normally quick fighter was sluggish due to the bombs slung under its wings. It was an easy target: d'Sotra centered his gunsight and let loose with everything. Lasers and the PPC bolt tore through the same spot Yrth had hit and touched off the fuel tanks, and the Tomahawk vanished in a huge fireball.
Vincent dal-Windas saw the other five Clan fighters heading straight at him. Like the first five, this one was also led by an Ironsides; unlike the other flight, the remaining four consisted of two Rogues and two Hellcats. All four were medium fighters, which meant they were fast and could carry a decent bombload; the Rogues were designed for ground attack, with two LRM-15 missile batteries beside the cockpit, while the all-wing Hellcat was more suited for reconnaissance duties, though it could hold its own. He'd never catch, let alone stop them all. "Nut to Minerva. You're gonna have some leakers."
"Roger that." Baron nodded to Max, who had a headset on. "Sasquatch to all ground units," he radioed, "air raid warning, Toriyama. Weapons free, fire at will."
Around Toriyama, the 'Mechs had dispersed, the lighter machines and hovertanks taking cover behind the hangars and Gateway Rock. Heavy 'Mechs, assault 'Mechs, and the tanks—especially Jacqueline Shaw's Hawkslayer, which was designed for exactly this occasion--were scattered around the base, still being hastily manned and readied by MechWarriors and tankers. Maysa Bari climbed her Rifleman atop the rock now known as Senefa's Point, and waited.
"Sultry, if you're not engaged, we could use some help," dal-Windas called out.
"On my way, Nut," d'Sotra replied, and climbed hard to meet the other Stingray. Yolanda Richardson, who had taken a shot at a Zero and then lost him in the clouds, joined up with him. Neither saw the Zero Richardson had lost: the pilot had hidden behind a ridge, and now roared in behind the pair at full speed. The side-slung large laser and nose-mounted LRMs reached out and scored hits on Richardson's tail and wings. Like the Sparrowhawk, the Thrush was lightly armored. Luckily, the Sentinels had uparmored their Thrushes by reducing the weight and size of the engine, but even so, her tail was reduced to hash. "Oh shit," she said, more disgusted than afraid, "I'm hit." She snapped the stick to one side and rolled away from the Clan fighter. The Zero overshot and turned to reengage, only to find himself under attack from a fourth fighter to enter the fray: Baum's Lucifer. Baum let fly with two large lasers and his own LRMs, but only a few missiles connected, cratering armor on the Zero but not breaking through. The Zero abandoned his attack on Richardson and dived away towards Iwakuni town. Baum followed him into a brutal turn, keeping his eyes on the little Clan fighter even as the sheer face of Hikari Ridge hurtled past his right side, mere meters away from his right wing.
Virginia Lossiemouth knew she had been right about the Ironsides pilot being the Clan flight leader, simply by the other pilot's great skill. Neither had been able to do more than score glancing hits on each other's armor. They had been locked into a vertical scissors, both pilots climbing and twisting to try to get on the other's tail, before finally stalemating, pulling away, and now facing each other two kilometers above Toriyama. The Stingray and the Ironsides shot past each other at twice the speed of sound, Lossiemouth missing with her PPC and the Ironsides missing with its huge battery of SRMs; Lossiemouth abruptly remembered that close-in fighting was the Ironsides' specialty, and if it got a good sight picture, the fighter was capable of delivering a deluge of thirty missiles.
The Clansman snapped upwards into a climb, and Lossiemouth followed, once more going into the scissors. Airspeed bled off rapidly and both fighters curved downwards. Massive flaps opened on the Ironsides' wings and forced Lossiemouth out front. Streamers of tiny fires reached out from the Ironsides and she threw the Stingray into a roll, avoiding half of the missiles, the others slamming into her tail. She climbed away from yet another barrage, but the Ironsides stayed with her and connected with a PPC shot. An alarm went off on her instrument panel, warning her that another hit on her rear quarter would destroy her.
"I've had enough o' this shite," Lossiemouth snarled, and slapped her throttles to idle, dropped her flaps, and snapped the canards vertical. The Stingray shuddered and practically stopped in midair. The Ironsides shot past so close they nearly collided, giving Lossiemouth a perfect, split-second view of two glowing tailpipes. She held down the trigger with her index finger and squeezed the other buttons on her stick with the rest of her fingers, triggering every weapon the Stingray had. The lasers burned through armor, but the PPC cored through to hit the Ironsides' magazine. The Clan fighter was blotted from the air, a brief comet against the blackness of space.
Lossiemouth hung suspended for a moment longer: she could see the curvature of Kagoshima itself outside the canopy. Even in the thin air, however, gravity still ruled, and the Stingray fell backwards into an end-over-end somersault for Kagoshima's surface eight kilometers below.
Baum leveled out over the paddies and cursed, watching as the Zero came in behind him. A large laser beam struck his Lucifer, but the tough Steiner fighter held. He rolled hard to the left, the fighter shuddering, as Baum now cursed himself: there was no way the heavy Lucifer could turn with a fighter half its size. The Zero easily cut across the circle Baum was making, rolled to the right, and came up behind the Snowbird fighter.
The Clan pilot never saw Richardson. She had leveled out her smoking Thrush and stayed low. Trying to land at Toriyama would get her shot down very quickly, since trigger-happy MechWarriors rarely stopped to identify fighters; they hated everything that flew. She nearly wet herself when she saw the blue shock diamonds of the Zero's thrust when it curved over her canopy. Richardson raised her nose, turned slightly, and opened fire with her three medium lasers. They only scored armor, but it shook the Clansman's concentration. The Zero fishtailed, the pilot trying to see where the new attack had come from, his vision to the rear blocked by the fighter's engine and tail. Baum saw his opportunity, rolled up and over, and came in from the left side; the Zero turned hard right and found itself head on with Richardson's Thrush.
The Clan pilot was not stupid and wasn't about to be caught between two Snowbird fighters, but his options were limited and all of them were bad. He would never pull out of a dive in time before he hit the ground, so he climbed hard—into the vertical plane, where the Lucifer excelled. Baum hit with a volley of LRMs, then closed in and marched his lasers across the already damaged right wing and fuselage. Flame erupted and, as the Zero stalled, the pilot ejected, his parachute taking him towards Toriyama.
The remaining Tomahawk of the first flight had made it to Toriyama and joined up with a Rogue from the second to make their bomb runs. They skimmed in low from the northwest, their initial target the runway. The Rogue pilot lined up her bomb run so that all six bombs underneath her fighter would march down the active runway, rendering it unusable. The Tomahawk followed, behind and to the Rogue's right, intending to drop its eight bombs on the huge DropShip. Missiles curled up and past from the DropShip at an awkward angle, but nothing else did.
As the Rogue crossed the wall, Shaw opened fire. She had left the radar on the Hawkslayer off, tracking optically so as not to give away the fact that she was watching the Clan fighter. The twin LB-10X autocannons chattered, sending six 75 millimeter rounds at the Rogue in two seconds. Two of the Cadre 'Mechs opened fire a second after that.
They needn't have bothered. The first shell hit the cockpit, killing the Clan pilot instantly. The Rogue rose slightly, then went into a shallow dive, hit the ground at the very end of the runway, bounced over the wall, nearly clipped Betsy Drakon's Blackjack, then dropped vertically into the bay.
The Tomahawk pilot broke off his attack and climbed away, followed by a cone of lasers and missiles as nearly every gun on the mesa opened up on him. A few scored hits, but nothing got through the Tomahawk's armor. He curved around, a Hellcat fell in on his wing, and they dived on the base from the east; no one ever claimed the Smoke Jaguars lacked courage.
The turret of the Hawkslayer slewed around to attack the Tomahawk, but this time the pilot was ready and fired first. Lasers turned snow into steam as they scored long trails across and hit the tank, blowing off a track and demolishing the radar. Shaw and her crew were unhurt, but it left a brief hole in Toriyama's defenses that the Hellcat slipped through. That pilot dropped his bombs just as he was hit by a volley of missiles from the Cambrai.
Two bombs landed on the Hellcat pilot's intended target, the hangar; it shook hard but its thick concrete sides saved its interior from further damage. A third bomb hit one of the tanks, which would have been catastrophic had they been filled with reaction fuel rather than water. A fourth hit the runway at a shallow angle, bounced high, and landed nearly at the feet of Dan Pollycutt's Dervish, blowing the medium 'Mech onto its back. The fifth and sixth bombs both landed neatly on warehouses equidistant from the hangars and Levine's village and flattened them. The Hellcat manuevered through the vicious flak, took a potshot at Maysa that rattled her enough that she missed, and flew off into the night. The Tomahawk curved around, spotted Richardson trying to slip out to sea and Chitose, and pounced.
She spotted the Tomahawk boring in at her. "Batgirl to anybody! I need help!" She firewalled the throttle, but her engines were damaged and the Tomahawk easily kept pace.
"Batgirl, this is Dude," drawled a voice in her helmet. "Break hard right; Ah've got yer boy." Richardson did as she was ordered, and as the Tomahawk turned to follow, he placed himself squarely in the sights of Gary "Dude" Honington and his massive F-100 Riever flying wing. The Tomahawk pilot saw the huge fighter a split-second too late: Honington had gone low and throttled back, the dark gray wing nearly invisible against the ocean. The Clansman instinctively broke hard left, but this killed his one advantage, speed, and just made him a better target. "Fella, that's gonna cost ya," Honington sighed, and pulled the trigger. The Riever's main armament, a titanic AC/20, spoke, followed by two flights of missiles. The impact was enough to tear the Tomahawk's tail off, and the pilot ejected as the remains plummeted into the sea.
The remaining Rogue and the two Hellcats had broken off their first attack on Toriyama after seeing the mesa's defenses, but now rejoined and bored in again, hotly pursued by d'Sotra, swiftly joined by Honington's wingmate, Cindra "Dame" Scampton, in her Transgressor. Scampton centered her gunsight on the Rogue, already hit by DropShip fire and falling behind the others, and opened up with her three large lasers. The Rogue went into a spin, careened into the wall near O'Reilly's lance, narrowly missed her Wolfhound, and exploded against Gateway Rock with a thunderous explosion. The Hellcats broke in opposite directions, forcing the Snowbird fighters to do the same.
Even as they did so, the last Zero streaked towards Toriyama, looking for targets, its pilot unaware that he was already a target. Dal-Windas roared in from the west, so low and fast he nearly blew Sheila, Lavine, and Salvatore off their feet. He fired at the Zero more to throw off the Smoke Jaguar's aim than to hit, then stomped right rudder to settle in behind the Zero. The Zero turned away to attack the Cambrai even as dal-Windas' fire missed. As his Stingray turned to follow, one of the Hellcats dropped its bombs, scattering them across the rice paddies, and fell in behind dal-Windas. "Son of a bitch," he growled, more annoyed than scared, "this is Nut; I've got one on my tail." He turned and dodged as large laser fire reached out at his Stingray.
Then Lossiemouth arrived. She had let her fighter fall on its own accord, until its natural aerodynamics and thicker air had allowed it to bring itself out of the spin. Once it had, she put her fighter into a shallow dive that terminated behind the Hellcat. Now there was a bizarre daisy-chain skimming across Toriyama at seventy meters at nearly the speed of sound: the Zero, dal-Windas, the Hellcat, and Lossiemouth. The Hellcat, seeing her, broke away from dal-Windas; Lossiemouth turned to follow. The Zero got low, breaking off its run on the Cambrai and weaving between the airfield's buildings. Dal-Windas stayed with him, barely high enough to miss 'Mechs on the ground, who didn't dare fire at the Zero for fear of hitting a friendly.
The Zero pilot suddenly sprung a trap: he accelerated, rolled, spun, and ended up behind a surprised dal-Windas. The large laser scored a lucky hit, going through armor and smashing a microprocessor in the wing. The Stingray was kept aloft by such microprocessors, who made decisions faster than the pilot ever could; now it turned against its pilot, the Stingray's central computer convinced that half the wing had been blown off and trying to compensate. It yawed out of control and only by throwing his entire body into pitching the stick left did dal-Windas keep from careening into the ocean. The Zero pilot let him go, did a magnificent split-S, and started a new bomb run. "Nessie from Nut!" dal-Windas yelled. "That Jaguar got me good! He's making another run!"
"Damn," Lossiemouth whispered. She broke off of the Hellcat and turned to take the Zero head on, guessing correctly that her erstwhile target would now follow her. Her sudden appearance shook the Zero pilot, who dropped two bombs that landed harmlessly on the south face. The Zero curved away from her, aiming for the barracks. Lossiemouth screamed with exertion as she made a brutal nine-G turn to get behind the Zero. The Hellcat rolled over the top and resumed his pursuit of her, the Clan large lasers tearing at her vulnerable rear armor. With a singlemindedness that would've impressed a samurai, Lossiemouth stayed on the Zero, determined to kill that fighter before the Hellcat killed her. Her medium lasers missed, but the Zero turned hard left again, trying to shake her off. It was in vain: her PPC struck the left wing, tracked through armor, and hit a bomb. The left wing simply vanished, and the Zero went into a tight spiral that bounced it off the north face of Toriyama and into the Chickugo River with a tremendous explosion of fuel and steam.
Scampton came in and hit the Hellcat hard, causing the Clansman to finally break off, but his parting shots had finally melted away the last of her rear armor and penetrated the engine, fusing parts and melting others. The engine began to surge as her instruments flickered; Lossiemouth knew that the Stingray was dying around her. "Nessie, Nessie, you're on fire!" Scampton cried. "Eject! Eject! Eject!"
"Negative," she calmly replied. "Not over Iwakuni." Her course had taken her over the town. "I'll try to step out over the Chickugo." She climbed, coaxing the remaining thrust out of the engine, and turning slightly so that when she ejected, the Stingray would fall harmlessly into the river.
The three women watched the burning Stingray struggling to stay in the air. "Why doesn't she get out?" Salvatore asked.
"Too much chance it'll go into Iwakuni," Sheila explained. "I think that's Ginny Lossiemouth, one of my best pilots. She'll make it."
Sheila's assessment was right—or would've been, had the fire not reached the Stingray's still mostly full fuel tanks. Lossiemouth saw fire warning lights appear all over the fuselage, and knew she only had seconds. Satisfied that her Stingray was safely away from Iwakuni, she leaned back in the seat, put her hands between her legs—ejection seat designers had wisely assumed that all fighter pilots, regardless of gender, would be concerned for their genitals first and foremost—and pulled the handle. At the same moment, the Stingray exploded.
Lossiemouth was knocked unconscious by both the force of the ejection and the blast. It caught the seat and smashed her leg against the canopy frame, but tumbled free of the explosion.
"Oh my God!" Salvatore gasped. "There's no way she made it out of that!" Levine's hands went to her mouth in shock at the sheer sudden violence.
"Oh no," Sheila breathed, then saw the parachute blossom as the seat's systems automatically deployed it. "There! There! She made it after all!" The wind carried the parachute towards them, and Sheila, momentarily forgetting she was with two strangers and not her own troops, ordered, "Come on!" and ran towards Lossiemouth. As the parachute drifted closer, Sheila could see that Lossiemouth was limp, her leg twisted at an odd angle. She had almost reached the pilot when Lossiemouth limply hit the snowy ground of Toriyama. Sheila quickly leapt on the chute to collapse it, so the wind wouldn't drag the pilot along the ground and make her injuries worse.
Salvatore and Levine automatically reacted to Sheila's order, but Levine stopped short, while Salvatore helped Sheila. Seeing headlights coming towards them, Salvatore, thinking quickly, reached into Lossiemouth's survival suit, picked out a flare, lit it, and began waving it frantically.
Levine's mind whirled frantically, watching frozen as Sheila began tearing away the flight suit to get to Lossiemouth's broken leg. Sheila didn't know Levine was a trained nurse and first responder, mainly to tend to the various injuries of her village, since Kurita authorities had little reason to help them; on one hand, Levine's training screamed at her to go help, automatically cataloging Lossiemouth's injuries and how to treat them. On the other, her own instincts told her to stay away, that it was Lossiemouth's fault for getting hurt, that she was just a mercenary pilot who was getting what she deserved. Then she saw bright red blood well up from the flight suit and splash the snow red, and the decision was made for her. She rushed forward, grabbed hold of the parachute, and tore a section out. She then gently shouldered Sheila aside and wrapped the fabric around the leg, stopping the worst of the bleeding. "Keep pressure on it," Levine told Sheila, "I need to see if it's arterial—"
Sheila abruptly turned and slapped her across the face with a hand covered with Lossiemouth's blood. "Stay the hell away from her!" she screamed.
Levine rolled back in the snow, stunned, and stayed that way even as militia paramedics arrived, bundled Lossiemouth into a stretcher, and carried her towards a bread van that they had commandeered as an ambulance. Finally, she got to her feet and walked to Sheila, who was absently wiping the blood on her pants. "I only wanted to help…" Levine began, but stopped at the look of pure hatred on Sheila's face—hatred that Levine herself knew she had worn only ten minutes before, before the air battle had started.
"You said you had a price," Sheila said quietly, but no less angrily. "Well, I think it was just paid, Rainbow." She pointed to Levine's cheek, then walked off towards the burning warehouses at the edge of the airfield.
Levine reached up and rubbed a stranger's blood off her cheek. She stared at the blood on her hand for a long time.