Tara Drop Port

Tara, Northwind

Prefecture III, the Republic of the Sphere,

February 3134; local winter

"Incoming, Stan! Break right and suppress!" Michael jammed his control stick left, and ducked his 'Mech behind a building. The Steel Wolves were certainly putting their best efforts in today, that was certain. There was roughly a company of armored infantry coming up, hiding autocannons and missiles in the shattered buildings all around. They were being supported by three Demon Medium Tanks, one Marksman tank, and a Nova, a fifty ton BattleMech that held a stunning array of laser weapons.

Missiles and lasers scorched the building, and large chunks of masonry fell away. Stan ducked out and blasted shells and hard light at the Marksman, blasting and melting armor and knocking its turret out of line. The heavy tank managed to reply, however, slamming twenty missiles into the torso and legs of his Rifleman. He ducked back into cover, and Michael winced- it was much too early in the fight to be losing that much armor.

Dodging out around the building, Michael slammed shells from his autocannons into the enemy machine, crushing armor and touching off the missile reloads cycling into the launcher. Even as the tank died, it fired its massive gauss rifle, smashing the hypersonic slug deep into the torso armor of the Hammerhands. A yellow light began to flash, warning of possible dysfunction of the medium pulse laser placed there. Michael ignored the light, and jammed his feet down on the foot pedals, launching his 'Mech high into the air.

Targeting a Demon tank, he let fly with his four lasers, which burned through the thinner top armor and vaporized the flamer fuel hidden there with an incandescent flash. Heat roiled inside the cockpit, and sweat dripped down his face and arms despite the efforts of his cooling suit. He grounded, ignoring the heat, and targeted the building directly ahead of him with his Short-Range Missile (SRM) 6-rack. The infantry dug in there desperately hammered out autocannon fire, leaving pockmarks in his armor and blasting burgundy paint off, but the missiles consumed them.

Michael felt sickness rise up in his heart, looking at the devastation in front of him; he had traded out the standard high-explosive armor-piercing missiles for Inferno rounds- the missiles carried a payload of fierce burning napalm, which would overheat enemy machines or, like now, burn any infantryman to death in a gruesome display of pyrotechnics. It was a bad way to die.

No, Michael thought, swinging his machine around and pounding behind cover once more. There is no good way to die on a battlefield.

Stan carefully edged his machine around the opposite side of the building he had taken cover behind, and managed to take the remaining Demons by surprise. He blasted into the nearest one, sending it cart wheeling across the street like a burning child's toy, but suddenly found himself besieged by the remaining Demon's twin medium lasers and the Nova's 12 Extended-Range medium lasers. The verdant energy savaged his machine, burning off tons of armor, carving into the internal structure, and severing myomer musculature. "Captain!" Stan shouted; his voice was filled with fear and pain. "I can't hold her, sir! My reactor's on the edge!"

Michael felt ice pour over him despite the heat, and crashed through the alley separating him from his lance mate. "Hold on, Stan! Grab some cover, and I'll trash that Steel Wolf son-of-a-bitch!" Quickly analyzing the situation, Michael made a series of decisions; first, despite the damage, Stan was in no immediate danger, provided he wasn't hit anymore- his 'Mech was badly damaged, but the Nova was badly overheated and wouldn't fire again, and the Demon was now behind the Nova, trying to get an angle on Michael.

He flipped over to his missiles and linked their trigger to his cannons, and let fly. Six missiles streaked out in a straight line, plastering the Nova in a burning coat of jellied gasoline. Its already-jerky movements ceased all together as the reactor went into emergency shutdown to prevent a critical power excursion, and the autocannons pounded its ferro-fibrous skin, shattering off armor and destroying two medium lasers outright.

Re-targeting quickly, Michael engaged his lasers, linking them to a second Target Interlock Circuit (TIC), and locked onto the Demon. The twin Victory Heartbeat medium pulse lasers in the chest of the Hammerhands spat out darts of crimson light, joined by the twin ruby spears of the Martell Mediums in the arms. Armor slagged and ran on the Demon, and one of its ER lasers exploded in a shower of energy and sparks. It tried to evade, but buried itself into the side of a building, where it stuck; instants later the hatches popped open and men began to run from the vehicle.

Turning back to the Nova, Michael locked his first circuit on again, blasting it with more napalm and depleted uranium from his guns. It shook, and slowly toppled over, as the pilot ejected rather than burn to death in his cockpit. "All right, Stan! Let's get outta here!"

Suiting actions to words, and warning Stan to stay close and let Michael handle the fighting, the two made for Highlander lines. Their trip was stressful, each expecting to be taken under fire by Steel Wolf units that seemed to be everywhere in the city, but they made it to the Highlander checkpoint without a shot being fired. They approached the gate held by Highlander infantry, and paused for a moment; the Highlanders had a land-line to command, and the Steel Wolves were busy jamming everything from military radios to Tri-vid remotes.

A shaking in his ejection seat alerted Michael to a heavy mass approaching. He looked up and smiled as he saw the familiar form of a burgundy Blade approached. "Hey, Stan, look at this! Paladin Crow's coming up to support us."

Stan's voice came back immediately. "That's a good thing, Captain, because I'm riding more holes than 'Mech right now."

The Blade seemed to hesitate a second, then came on, stopping just before the checkpoint. The Highlander infantry made their standard challenge, and Crow's voice rolled out of the external speakers on the machine. "Paladin Ezekiel Crow, on Republic business; let me pass."

Michael's gut froze- let him pass? There was nothing ahead of this line except Steel Wolves and the drop port. He opened a secure channel to Crow, over the tight beam laser COM.

"Paladin Crow, why do you need to go out there unsupported, sir? There's not anything beyond this point but Steel Wolves and the port." Michael watched the Blade, an uncomfortable suspicion dawning on him.

Crow's 'Mech suddenly burst into movement, its autocannon and lasers savaging Stan's already-staggering 'Mech; a flare erupted from his cockpit, and the ejection seat rose on a plume of flame, and the Rifleman crumpled, burning fiercely. Michael screamed in rage and brought his targeting computer online, blasting at the fleeing Paladin, but it was no use- the Blade was too fast, and Crow was too good, and he escaped into the murky dawn toward the drop port.

Michael felt hollow, hoping against hope that Stan's ejection hadn't killed him and desperately wanting to hunt Crow down and splatter him all over Northwind. He turned his 'Mech back toward the Highlanders, and back to Stan. "Sergeant," he said to the leader of the Highlander patrol. "Connect me as fast as you can to Control. It seems that our Republic and the Highlanders have been betrayed today."

Anger surged in his chest as he thought of Tara Bishop and Tara Campbell. Tara Bishop had given Michael the word that Campbell and Crow had fallen hard for one another, and it filled him with unaccustomed rage that Crow would betray not only The Republic, but his lover as well. A sudden thought flared in his mind, and his anger was snuffed, leaving a dread feeling in its wake- Ezekiel Crow hired Jack Farrell, not Countess Campbell.