Chapter 10
Twin Pikes Pass, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy
Periphery
8 June 3059
07:00:00 localtime
"CONFIRM! ALL POINTS CONTACT! SCRAMBLE, REPEAT ALL UNITS SCRAMBLE!"
Allen yanked hard on his control stick and broke left around the nearest boulder at a full run as azure beams burned through the darkness of early morning and the howling storm to pass all around his Battlemaster.
Geezuss! We finally made it up that miserable ski slope only to walk out of some kind of Y bend and right into their lines! Hell we were completely intermixed before any one actually figured out what happened, thanks to this {Naughty} storm! At least this plateau is wide enough to maneuver with some good cover Allen swung wide around the next boulder before circling back to come to bear on that Warhammer he found himself walking next to just moments before.
"All units this is Leader, convoy and honor guard break away as soon as possible. Mechwarriors, let's hold them back people!"
"Acknowledged, " Jess responded first followed by the others. Allen didn't need to repeat the standing orders, but it seems someone will always forget what to do when the {Naughty} hits the fan. By the plan Allen had detailed prior to departure a SCRAMBLE order meant "things just went to pot now everyone for themselves". Convoy personnel along with Ryan's people and select 'Mechs who would not fair well in a stand up fight were to scatter, in as organized fashion as possible, and break for the nearest exit. The 'Mechs in the best shape were to engage at will and hold back any of the attackers until the convoy was away, then scatter themselves. Rendezvous point was the Antelope.
…
Jess backed away remarkably slowly from the advancing Stalker working the 85 ton assault 'Mech's armor over with her two Medium Pulse Lasers and remaining PPC. Armor ran away in streams from the Stalker's left and center torso under the touch of the lasers while the man made lightning from the PPC savaged the right torso armor, causing additional static energy from the storm to arc all across the right side before lancing to the ground.
The mighty 'Mech weathered the assault in stride, the damage thus far superficial. The Stalker pilot opened up his response with both six pack flights of short range missiles only to have them all torn off course by the incredible force of the raging storm, scattering the warheads harmlessly amidst the boulders off to her Marauder's left. Apparently learning quickly from this failed course of action, the Stalker followed up with twin blasts from the right and left side Large Lasers carving deep gauges on the Marauder's matching torso, harassing the already weakened armor on either side.
DAMMIT! Jess though bitterly as the wire frame Marauder on her HUD flashed from yellow to orange on the left side and red on the right. Time to go! Speed was one of Jess' advantages, and now was the time to use it! She cut loose with her lasers and PPC again and was rewarded by scoring a concentrated strike against the Stalker's right side. The sudden loss of over 3 tons of armor caused the assault 'Mech to lurch right momentarily as the pilot attempted to compensate.
Jamming her control stick hard to the right she opened up her Marauder to full throttle, breaking for the cover of the boulder to her immediate right. More laser fire lit up the space she had just occupied a moment before. Once obscured by the boulder, Jess slammed down on both foot pedals igniting her Marauder MAD-5D variant's jump jets. Unlike the standard MAD-5D Jess had opted to retain and upgrade the dorsal autocannon, but added a CASE system to the ammo bin to prevent excessive damage if the bin was breached. She also ignored the streak missile system and instead added an Anti-missile system. The remaining space was used to increase the armor all around.
The 75 ton war machine launched into a low arch over the boulder, performing a 180 degree turn mid-flight to come down facing the weaker rear armor of the Stalker who was still tracking forward around the 15 meter boulder.
At times I love this storm Jess thought wickedly as she took careful aim at the 'Mech's rear right torso and gently caressed the firing stubs. The concentrated heat of twin pulsating suns melted expanding circles in armor like a blowtorch flame through butter. Before the two lasers could finish their exploration of the rapidly retreating metal, man made lightning simply smashed aside the remaining protection and began chewing at the Stalker's delicate inners. As before, static from the surrounding atmosphere added to the destruction dancing across the Stalker's hide before following the PPC arc deep into the bowls of the war machine.
Sudden heat spikes spoke of lost heat sinks as the Stalker pilot swung the zeppelin like nose of his 'Mech to the right, attempting to use the loss of armor and natural lurch to his advantage. He almost cleared the outcropping of the boulder hemming him in on the right, but not quite. With a screech of metal tearing that was almost audible over the raging storm the mighty Stalker ground to a wrenching halt, nose first into the immovable rock.
Jess actually winced at the grinding the Stalker took. However with the assault 'Mech now standing still, broad side to her own Marauder exposing the already damaged right torso and the, as of yet, undamaged right arm, Jess took full advantage of the situation. Taking careful aim again she targeted the right shoulder and depressed the firing studs again. The armor held for a moment, then sagged and ran away down the 'Mech's side before the concentrated fire completely separated the appendage, along with it's deadly 20 flight Long Range Missile system and storage. Nature again betrayed the Stalker pilot as the storm's static after-discharge exploited both openings in the 'Mech and reached deep into the delicate innards. The 'Mech shuddered as insulated control circuits were exposed to mega-joules of rampant electricity.
Somewhere deep in the right torso a lick of electrical talons touched the bin of Short Range Missiles causing premature detonation. The result was a rapid series of cascading explosions that further extracted a terrible toll on the surrounding equipment. The engine shielding took heavy damage in the expanding fireball as the concussion wave threw the Gyroscope completely out of alignment. Imbedded back and below the pilot's command chair a nondescript black box added this latest damage to the running total of overall devastation being visited upon the machine it was tasked with monitoring. In less time than it took for the concussion wave, which was moving at a mere speed of sound, to reach it the self detonation device coldly calculated that the 'Mech had exceeded the acceptable-loss tolerance levels defined during it's setup and, at the speed of light, executed it's preprogrammed automatic response.
Jess watched in disbelief as what should have been a recoverable situation for the Stalker pilot ended in a brilliant flash as the Stalker collapsed. Explosives located at all the assault 'Mech's hard points detonated as one, creating a useless pile of metal fragments where once had stood a might war machine. However the luxury of contemplation was not to be as a Rifleman swung around the other side of the Stalker's final resting place to bear down on Jess. Before Jess could fully register this new arrival, depleted uranium slugs stitched an X pattern across her Marauder's whole upper torso blowing clean wholes with each slug that struck the right side, but not penetrating further.
Jess depressed her firing studs without a lock, but nothing happened! What the? She glanced at her HUD indicators only to discover that her weapons had not yet recycled. Damn! The Rifleman had her dead to rights, weapons obviously trained on her cockpit. Jess closed her eyes, rapidly squeezing her firing studs praying to get a shot off to prevent the inevitable.
With her eyes closed she never saw the Gauss slug that passed just a half a meter over her Marauder's right shoulder. Had the autocannon still been there the slug would have carried it clean off. Of course at that proximity a Gauss slug sounds like a freight train passing through, even in a storm such as the one outside. At the sound of pounding rush, Jess opened her eyes just to see the slug strike low on the Rifleman's cockpit. The slug pushed aside the armor as though it were whipped cream, then proceeded to pass completely through the 'Mech, carrying away the lower half of the cockpit, most of the control systems and the lower half of the pilot, before proceeding out through the back of the 'Mech spewing vital parts and human remains into the storm. The mortally wounded Rifleman fell backward, disappearing into the storm.
"Hope you don't mind, " Wendy's voice broke in loud and strong due to the proximity of the two 'Mechs. "I admired your work with that Stalker, but I hate to be left out of all the fun." She added. Jess could almost picture the broad smile on Wendy's face from the tone in her voice.
"Oh, fine! I had him just where he wanted me, but if you insist." She smiled at the comforting Atlas drawn on the far right side of her compressed 360 degree display. Before they could continue their happy banner however, reality checked in again. Movement on the other side of Jess' display brought her attention back to the boulder she had so easily leapt over. Comfort turned to icy panic as Jessica's world seemed to shift into slow motion. Like a childhood nightmare a second Atlas stepped clear of the rock and turned to confront her Marauder. Jessica had already begun turning her 'Mech to meet this new menace, but the sinking feeling of a child with a slingshot about to get crushed by a tank threatened to overwhelm her.
"Get behind me," Wendy's voice held a strange calmness, but filled with steel. Jessica didn't need to be told twice, she mashed down hard on her foot pedals vaulting her 75 ton 'Mech once again into the air on a low trajectory to pass backward over Wendy's Atlas.
…
"This miserable storm! If it wasn't for the cursed weather on this Blake forsaken dust ball we'd have been to the Antelope and back twice an hour since … OW {Naughty}, can't you keep this thing from smashing about, that's delicate equipment your carrying." The VTOL pilot sitting behind the sand crawler's driver jerked his thumb out the back window toward the two VTOLs strapped to the crawler's deck, then cursed again as another lurch cracked his head off the roof. The second pilot who had been nodding in agreement broke into a supporting tirade as soon as his partner gave him the opportunity.
I'll give you delicate equipment John Green, the crawler driver, thought bitterly. Don't these VTOL pilots ever shut up? A side long glace at his partner in the passenger seat, Chris Mills, told him they were both thinking along the same lines.
"I can't see a damned thing in this soup, "Chris began trying to change the subject. He leaned forward to peer up into the blackness of the storm and loudly talked over the continuously complaining pilots, "are we headed the right way?"
Before John could respond the first pilot, Jeff was his name, jumped in," Of course not! You ground pounders couldn't find your way around a DropShip lounge." The pilots shared a laugh at the soldier's expense. The men in the front seat just glared out into the endless swarm of sand until the aerospace wannabees finished.
"Right, " John started with a sly smile at his partner, " Maybe you boys would like to get out and walk in front of us, so you could guide us stupid PBIs."
The pilots almost responded, but the noticeable way Chris shifted his submachine gun seemed to get the message across. John opened his mouth to continue when the shadow of another huge boulder loomed in front of them forcing him to swerve hard to the left.
"Damn, we got to get off this plateau, " John began loudly so Chris could hear him over the curses coming from the back seat, "I haven't gotten any contact from one of our boys since the Cap'n gave the scramble order. Never did see the enemy for that matter. I hope this isn't another fur ball like the mess with the survivors."
As if to answer the rhetorical question, shrapnel of all size and shape began raining down on the crawler. John slammed on the breaks. Amidst shouts and curses the ping of metal bouncing on metal joined a chorus of hard bangs as heavy pieces of metal dented and pocketed the roof and hood of the crawler. Something struck the bullet proof glass of the windshield on the passenger side, leaving a long gouge and all aboard in stunned silence. Something, different, struck the windshield and landed on the hood.
"What the {Naughty} was that?" Chris said as everyone leaned forward to get a better look at whatever had been raining down on them.
"Is that a… boot?" John asked squinting at the object on the hood. Before anyone could confirm, deny or debate his question another shadow loomed ominously out of the storm from above. The 20 ton sand crawler bounced clear off the ground as the 60 ton carcass of a Rifleman slammed uncontrolled into the ground, it's signature radar array creating a metal wall just 4 meters from the front of the crawler.
"Missed us!" Chris announced happily to the other shock white faces in the cab.
"Isn't that.. a Rifleman?" John had a feeling rising up in his stomach that threatened to overshadow the spinning left there by the near miss.
"Yes, " the passenger side pilot began with a tone of superiority, "Yes, that is a Rifleman, good eye, for a grunt."
John ignored the moron as the pieces fell into place, "We don't have any Rifleman 'Mechs in our unit. WAIT! Didn't Sergeant say those things were rigged to.."
Everyone in the cab completed the sentence as one, having followed John's line of thinking to it's logical conclusion.
"EXPLODE!"
Shouts and cursing rattled the windows as John rammed the crawler into reverse and wedged the accelerator against the floor.
No one has ever accused a sand crawler of being a fast vehicle, or even a tolerable means of transportation. That was when the things were moving forward. In reverse, well… Despite the lack of gut wrenching speed, in the raging sand storm it took less than 4 seconds for the Rifleman to be completely obscured. Later telling of the story told how John made the thing fly.
…
No one knows better than an Atlas pilot how deadly the Atlas can be. The two mighty titans stood across the narrow space from each other, unmoving. Each warrior measuring each other like gunslingers of ancient earth. Unlike those legends of old these immobile foes were quite busy, enhanced sensors probing, searching, and sizing every facet of their adversary.
In a flurry of motion the standoff ended. Arms raised, torsos twisted, weapons came to bear. Laser fire burst through the darkness creating a deadly light show, a Gauss slug passed a mere meter from a stream of depleted uranium autocannon fire speeding toward the opposite ends of the confined space. Wendy's opponent deftly rotated his 'Mech's upper torso left causing the shot to skim across the enemy Atlas' chest before deflecting off the not quite retracted left arm, shattering armor, and disappearing deeper into the storms embrace. The enemy slugs missed entirely, as Wendy had also chosen to rotate left, but managed a quick side step as well. The enemy Atlas bent forward slightly in a mock bow, before aligning it's feet and starting a slow clockwise circle. Wendy followed suit, maintaining her distance by taking her opponents lead in the tight clockwise dance.
Beads of sweat formed on Wendy's brow as the temperature of the Atlas started to rise. In the searing heat of the cursed sand storm any action taken by a Mechwarrior caused the 'Mechs' cooling systems to struggle. Atlas' have known issues with heat, and even with the newer double heat sinks, Wendy had to be extra careful not to let the heat levels sneak up into the red.
Ok boy, you want to dance? Let's dance!
Wendy tested the other's right side armor with her Extended Range Large Laser, while her dance partner stitched a line from right hip to left shoulder with his deadly 20 Millimeter autocannon. The mighty 'Mech shuttered under the assault. Wendy fought through the wave of neuro-feedback as the heavy rounds impacted higher on the chest and shoulder. Her Atlas weathered the storm with little more than a shrug and gave what it got by melting a perfect circle in the right side chest of her opponent. Just over two tons of armor ran down the front of the enemy, mimicking blood from a superficial wound. Symbols sprung to life on the HUD wire frame diagram that depicted her Atlas. There were no breaches, and all chest armor still checked in green.
That's enough of that! Wendy thought viciously.
Wendy lobbed another Gauss slug at her tormentor, this time the other pilot was not as quick, catching the round in the left torso. Armor shattered under the tremendous force of the heavy slug, breaking free in splinters and scattered into the storm. Her opponent responded immediately with four Medium Pulse Lasers. Testimonial to the pilot's skill, he managed to keep the weapons trained on the twisting and running target Wendy was presenting him with. The pulse lasers burned deep lines all across the upper torso and right arm.
Damn! This guy is good! Wendy kept moving and twisting to keep her opponent in her sights, but refrained from taking another shot to let her heat levels come down a bit. Her opponent had stopped moving and was tracking her by rotating his upper torso. Let our heat get out of control did we? Now how can I use that? Wendy scanned the opponent's 'Mech, his heat isn't that high, looks like he's got some extra heats sinks over there, smart. He can still take another shot at me if I give him a chance. Looking up from the scan report she tried to take in the entire scene.
"Ahh HA! Got ya!" Wendy exclaimed aloud. She tore at the controls, causing her 'Mech to slide to a halt while twisting left to reverse her previous course, then jammed her throttle open. 20 millimeter shells cut through the space where she might have been. The enemy pilot appeared to recover quickly and stitched a line in the boulder nearly catching up with the suddenly reversed Atlas before the rounds expended. A Medium Laser lanced out to strike high on the left shoulder, eating away more of the protective armor. Wendy held off just a little longer on her response.
Steady She thought as the laser hit caused temperatures to spike. Steady, The enemy Atlas began to reverse course to maintain distance. Perfect, if your determined to make it easier, then just a little more…
Wendy swung her torso left and tracked low, to the trained eye, too low. A Large Laser shot out on a low trajectory passing between the moving legs, missing the enemy Atlas entirely. The enemy pilot stopped cold to take advantage of the missed shot, swung his upper torso inline with Wendy and opened up with the autocannon again. Unnoticed by the enemy pilot, just 4 meters behind him, armor slagged and ran away unchallenged. Quickly penetrating the external armor the large laser ate further into the Stalker's right arm. Detached from the Stalker at the time of self-destruct the appendage had remained lying unnoticed since Jess had surgically removed it. The fully loaded Long Range missile storage bin held for a fraction of a second then allowed the beam to pass. In the time it took for two depleted uranium slugs to leap from the barrel of the enemy autocannon, the missiles cooked off. The resulting explosion, assisted by the open leg stance of the 'Mech, shoved the enemy Atlas forward toward the ground. Autocannon fire turning up geysers of sand to trace a perfect line to the spot where the Atlas would land.
"My point!" Wendy remarked sweetly to the image of the prone Atlas. Adjusting her controls she slowed and turned to exploit her new advantage.
…
Lightening flashed close by, illuminating the cockpit of the Warhammer IIC. Yanskoff opened up with the 'Mech's energy weapon compliment mauling the enemy Orion, venting his rage over the events of the last couple of days. The smaller machine staggered under the withering assault and tried to break for the cover of a near by boulder, it's right arm hanging by a single thread of myomers and walking with a sever limp. Yanskoff tracked the enemy maneuver with ease while marveling at his new war machine.
By the gods, the power! These Clans have got some equipment! This thing would have taken a third of my old force to bring down, and this isn't even one of their Omni rigs! How did they ever stop whole armies of these!
A solid tone indicated a lock on the retreating Orion, bringing Yanskoff out of his revere. Checking his heat levels he smiled wickedly at discovering that the heat quickly dropped back to the green. He lazily massaged the firing stubs unleashing a torrent of high energy death upon his already wounded adversary. The right arm severed and fell free fractions of a second before armor boiled and ran away in rivers down the right side. The enemy twisted to bring weapons to bear on his tormentor, but man made lightening already penetrated the right side chewing hungrily at the delicate innards. As always in this static intensified storm, lightening arched and added nature's fury to the artificial ravaging. Yanskoff found it easy, in his new high tech wonder, to move and maintain his angle of fire. Just as the last of his punishment was delivered, Yanskoff was rewarded by a flash and witnessed the collapse of the Orion as it's self destruct unit factored in the probability of survival after the engine shielding breach, which Yanskoff himself had been watching develop with satisfaction.
"NOW YE'LL LEARN THE PROPER FEAR OF ME!" Yanskoff shouted aloud at the storm, head swimming with mixed feelings of power and euphoria. He scanned the area for his next victim. Movement drew his attention left in time to witness an old Warhammer backing into view from around yet another boulder. PPC fire lanced from behind the massive rock, striking the right shoulder mounted Short Range Missile launchers, dangerously close to the cockpit. The weapon twisted and caved in on itself as the whole assemble melted. The Warhammer returned fire with both it's PPCs but continued to back away at it's best possible speed. Yanskoff turned slowly, holding off on engaging to see who was so expertly driving back the 75 war machine. The Warhammer pilot must have detected Yanskoff, because he shifted his backward direction to bring him away from Yanskoff and force his adversary to step between himself and the 85 ton Clan monster. The Battlemaster of Allen Martius stepped clear of the boulder, ignoring Yanskoff and pressing the Warhammer further. In doing so he exposed his rear to Yanskoff, whose devious mind kicked into overtime.
Perhaps it's time for a change in leadership Yanskoff's thought bringing an evil smile to his lips. This machine could bring him down in a single volley from behind! Whose to know the truth in this storm?
As if following his line of thought the Battlemaster performed an Alpha strike against the heavy Warhammer, blasting away armor, limps and weapons in a frightening display of power. The Warhammer stumbled as the pilot fought to keep the machine up and fighting, despite the loss of both arms and tons of precious armor. The display took the edge off of Yanskoff's euphoria as the realization came to him that he would have to deliver the killing blow in one volley or face the Battlemaster which was a true challenger for his own assault 'Mech. Even from back-on the Battlemaster could instantly begin to deliver retribution for his treachery.
Besides that damned Praska seems to be watching everything! As impressive as this thing is, she won't stand up to the DropShip guns, to say nothing of the JumpShip. And I am definitely ready to get off this miserable rock! Patience! Opportunities present themselves all the time, better to get out of here first. The kid will get me out of here; he proved he doesn't have the stomach for real decisions when he let the Clanner go.
Yanskoff turned his 'Mech right and opened up his throttle to start hunting again, I may not deliver the lesion you need in the ways of the Universe today, but I'll be damned if I'm going to wade in where someone else might do the job for me!
…
Ryan bounced in his seat in the back of the mobile command center as the vehicle dropped over a slight ridge, his seat belt keeping him from flying free of his perch but bit hard into his waist line.
Damn! That's going to leave a mark, Ryan thought viciously as he keyed up another sequence of telemetry.
Concussion waves rocked the vehicle from multiple missiles that tore at the ground where the truck was just a moment before. The driver was working feverishly to avoid the 60 ton Champion that was stalking them. The high pitched whine of the twin mini guns penetrated the hull as both weapons delivered 4000 armor piercing rounds per minute in an attempt to ward off the relentless 'Mech warrior. Driver, navigator and gunners shouted to each other over the din to coordinate the survival effort.
Ryan ignored their personal danger and continued to issue commands into the comm. in a vain attempt to bring order to the chaos of the SCATTER order. Pressing his headset to his ears Ryan strained to better hear the overall developments going on outside. He leaned in close, trying to take in every detail afforded him from the myriad of displays that gave him the vital information necessary to help the Privateers survive.
"DAMMIT ZULU FOUR! BREAK LEFT! The twin pikes are 500 meters due North!" he said pointing at his terrain display to the place where two thirty meter tall rock columns marked the next trail, and escape from the confining plateau, despite the fact that Zulu Four couldn't see the map or him pointing. "Zulu two and three, can you read?"
No response from the radio, just another violent shakeup as the center's tormentor finally managed to connect with his autocannon. All sound inside the center drowned out as missiles leapt clear of their launchers in response. Spotting another unit in close proximity, Ryan open up his mic again.
"Reverend, this is Mongoose, respond!"
"Roger Mongoose, go ahead."
"We've got a problem here, can you come right to Two-Three-Zero and assist?"
"Roger Mongoose! Blessed are they that ask for help, for the Lord shall deliver them!"
Almost immediately the command center shook again, this time as arced talons of electrical discharge spun off in all directions from the straight course of man made lightening, cascading over the truck as two azure beams passed overhead. Ryan was thrown right in his chair when the driver broke left to avoid getting caught in the cross fire of the two mighty war machines. The Reverend's Warhammer showing, green on Ryan's display, appeared to rotate as the truck turned, then the two icons, red and green, began to accelerate away from the center of the radar.
DAMMIT! I should have sent the Ghosts ahead when we were forced to move single file up that slope! With Allen and Jess fully engaged I've got to do something to get the convoy back together and make a safe exit path out of here, in a hurry!
The rotating display to Ryan's left caught his attention as it cycled through various feeds from the unit's 'Mechs. Ryan stopped the cycling and move back to the previous display, a feed from the recently captured Warhammer IIC. Ryan watched as Yanskoff's last attack caused the Orion to self destruct, and studied the way the explosives performed their task, making mental note of how the explosion shaped. He reached for the control to begin the cycling again, when the same exchange that Yanskoff was just now seeing also peeked his interest. He continued his rapid fire commands while devoting as much of his attention to the developing situation as possible.
At least Allen is still alive! He thought with a wave of relief. Something is wrong! he stopped all other activities and brought up all of the displays in Yanskoff's 'Mech. Ryan scanned all around at the virtual cockpit his displays now formed in front of him. What are you thinking, old man? Why aren't you angling to take a shot at that Warhammer? Ryan watched intently as the IIC simply stood, watching the battle unfold. Go ahead, old pirate! Just twitch! Allen's orders were watch, but don't act unless the old {Naughty} fires. If he does, however… The kid isn't as stupid as he acts. At least Ron managed to carry off the bit about removing the explosives in a believable fashion! Come-on make your move, and I'll give you a close up replay of what that Orion pilot was seeing! A brilliant flash threatened to reset the displays as Allen performed an Alpha strike against the enemy 'Mech. The IIC shifted, as though something had changed. Then, slowly, the IIC turned and moved off into the storm. Heh, looks like Allen managed to clear the old boy's thinking up without me. But… orders or no, that old fox is too dangerous to keep around for much longer!
Ryan waited just another two seconds, to ensure that Yanskoff didn't have a change of heart, then went back to issuing orders.
"Ghosts Six, Seven and Eight, Respond!"
After each had signaled, "You three need to round up the transports and herd these Nova Cats toward those pikes. We need to get these people up into the path out of here! Ghosts Nine and Ten, head to the pikes now! I want that whole area mined for maximum demolition."
A round of "Affirmative," issued from the comm. A green icon on the display flashed and winked out, Damn! We lost one of the transports!
"Dingo, turn that rust bucket around dammit! Head 40 meters on a course of One-Zero-Three and protect the rest of the vehicles over there!"
"No problem mate!" Even the battle speech units couldn't remove that Australian accent, "I'm right on it, by the way, have you seen Precious? I wouldn't want to go scaring her!"
Ryan shook his head and chuckled, but didn't respond. The sounds of laughter rattling around in the closed in Locust cockpit didn't seem to require fuel.
…
"Dingo, turn that rust bucket around dammit! Head 40 meters on a course of One-Zero-Three and protect the rest of the vehicles over there!"
"No problem mate!" A broad smile worked it's way across Dingo's face, "I'm right on it, by the way, have you seen Precious? I wouldn't want to go scaring her!"
Unable to contain himself any longer Dingo dissolved into fits of laughter. Despite shaking from the gut busting laughter, Dingo did manage to get the scout 'Mech into motion. Wiping the tears from his eyes he scanned the intermittently fading displays across the Locust's command console. Noticing a green blip appearing and disappearing on his scanner display he keyed his mic.
"Ghul? How's my girl treating you?"
"Dingo! I hit something during the scatter, most of my displays are off-line! I've been trying to follow the loudest comm. signals to find someone but…"
"Ahh, sorry about that," Dingo began crestfallen as he started to realize the extent of his own thoughtlessness, "I assumed my Shadow Hawk was pretty easy to work, well, you know, with all the upgrades and all… Anyway, right console middle button three rows down from the environmentals display."
Damned Stupid of me! Dingo chided himself while he waited for the response, I've got to get my head back into the game! The girl could have gotten killed without ever seeing it coming!
"Ok, hang on… Ahh… All the right hand displays are blank, which one is the environmentals?"
Dingo paced the Locust over to where Heather Burke, the young former pilot Locust pilot, stood idle in his arm-less Shadow Hawk. Swirling sand hid the 55 ton 'Mech from view even at less than 10 meters, but his intermittent HUD did manage to paint a shaky wire-frame of the 'Hawk on his forward display.
"All the displays are off-line?" Dingo asked as much to himself as to Heather. "Oh! She's in stealth mode!" Dingo exclaimed as he realized what had happened, "Just say enlightenment."
"Enlightenment?" Heather asked, then let out a short cry as the Shadow Hawk sprung back to normal operation mode.
Dingo chuckled as he turned the Locust back to the original course Mongoose had given him, "Follow me lass, we've got some PBIs to protect and I need your eyes and ears. By the way, the phrase that triggered that was let's see the {Naughty}ards catch me now."
"Oh… Ok" Came the sheepish reply as Dingo erupted into fits of laughter again.
…
Jessica landed 30 meters back from Wendy's Atlas and watched as the two mighty war machines exchanged their opening shots. The sight of two of those monsters facing off presented a sobering picture. Yanking hard on her control stick Jessica swung her Marauder left around a boulder attempting to get into a support position.
She's good, but we need to get this encounter over with, and fast! Jess had just completed the thought when the threat alarm sounded fractions of a second before a heavy stream of autocannon fire raked the whole upper torso of her war machine adding to the damage left over from the Rifleman's assault. Jess fought back through the waves of neuro-feedback and tried in vain to maneuver in the confines of the treacherous plateau terrain. The utter darkness outside, the feedback from her neuro-helmet, the endless swirls of sand illuminated only by the eerie green glow of her HUD, and the knowledge of the omni-present boulders on all sides amplified the surge of fear that rose up in Jess' chest and gave her a distinct Claustrophobic sensation.
Fighting back the urge to scream Jess checked her battle computer which quickly provided the disturbing picture of this new situation. An Orion, flanked by a Grasshopper, stepped out into the clear from behind a 25 meter high rock, apparently working in tandem to hunt down their enemies. Jess answered the Orion's unprovoked challenge with a blast from her only operational PPC before triggering her jump jets again. The man made lightening played across the Orion's thick hide, but did little to break the warrior's stride.
Landing high on top of one of the larger boulders gave Jess a superior firing position from which to cover both adversaries. Unfortunately, while the Orion angled for another shot, the enemy Grasshopper matched Jess' maneuver landing on the opposite end of the same boulder. Normally a Marauder pilot wouldn't break into a panicky sweat facing a Grasshopper, however facing a pristine Grasshopper, a 'Mech with a long history as a good close-in fighter, with a Orion snipping at you at every opportunity in a less than fully functional Marauder was enough to do it for Jess. Mashing down hard on her foot pedals, Jess attempted to vault to a safer boulder where she would at least only be facing the Grasshopper. Instead of rising once again on four pillars of thrust, her HUD began flashing Jump system not ready.
Dammit! Jess thought bitterly, her warrior instinct taking over and lancing the Grasshopper with twin Medium Pulse lasers as she tried to move as far away from the side with the Orion as possible. More autocannon fire flashed upward deflecting off the boulder and cutting through the space where she had been just a moment before. Meanwhile the Grasshopper pilot returned her favor, and struck the Marauder along the left torso with his Large and Medium laser compliment. Armor slagged and ran away in streams and the Marauder staggered mid-maneuver as Jess lost a full ton and a half on her left side. A quick blast from the PPC encouraged the Grasshopper pilot to keep moving but Jess began willing her jump jets to recycle faster as the enemy pilot performed a flawless jump that put him on a smaller rock directly behind Jess's position.
Jess' spun the Marauder in place, attempting to track the 'Hopper pilot's movements, while performing a crouching maneuver in the process. The difficulty of performing the move while not falling off the boulder was more than rewarded as the 'Hopper's next salvo passed harmlessly over the now crouched Marauder.
Jess fired low, striking the 'Hopper in the right leg with her PPC and two Medium Pulse lasers just as the pilot started the second phase of the standard Grasshopper tactic of fire-and-jump. The combined force of Jess' assault succeeded in throwing off the 'Mech's trajectory severely, altering the newly airborne 'Mech's posture from vertical to horizontal. The pilot was either completely caught by surprise or terribly inexperienced, because he failed to cut the jump jets the second the 'Mech's orientation began to change. As a result the 70 ton 'Mech performed a short series of cartwheels until the war machine finally careened into the side of the boulder eight meters beneath Jess' perch. Mere fractions of a second after the 'Mech crippling collision, even before the wreckage could fall the remaining couple of meters to the ground, the Heavy 'Mech detonated.
Jess almost had time to breathe a sigh of relief and bask in the glory of surviving yet another encounter before a quick series of bright flashes on her right most HUD caught her attention, causing her reality to snap back into focus.
Damn! The Orion! Pitching the Marauder into a tight spin, Jess fought desperately to bring her weapons to bear before the Orion angled for a clear shot and tore her 'Mech to pieces. More flashes lit up the endless darkness of the infernal sand storm as the war machine labored to carry out Jess' commands. The picture that resolved on the HUD was different that the one Jess had been expecting, the Orion was facing and firing in the opposite direction. Twin azure beams struck the Orion side by side in the dead center of the Heavy 'Mechs torso driving the machine back several steps. Jess was not about to let an opportunity like this slip. With the Orion pilot distracted by whom ever was firing from a position Jess couldn't see, Jess was free to take some time and aim carefully. The Orion fired it's deadly autocannon again, only to be driven back once more by double shafts of man made lightening.
Steady now Jess thought, beads of sweat forming on her brow as she carefully sighted the Orion cockpit. Her fingers tensed up on the firing studs but the Orion pilot dodged right before she could fire.
Dammit! Just hold still for a few seconds.
The Orion pilot fired again in the direction of the unseen assailant at the same moment Jess unleashed her own weapons compliment. Metal sagged under the Pulse lasers and blasted free under the touch of her PPC. In the space of a single heart beat the cockpit and human pilot were no more. True to the pattern Jess had now witnessed twice before, the Orion simply dissolved in a brilliant flash to become a useless pile of scrap.
"The good Lord works in mysterious ways in deed!" Came the familiar boom of the Privateer's moral fiber. A Warhammer stepped into view from behind yet another large rock.
A wave of relief washed over Jess as she keyed her helmet comm. "Reverend! …" Jess faltered, her next sentence dissolving before properly taking form, and thought quickly, "Stay where you are!" Checking her HUD she noted that the jump system had finally cycled and was signaling readiness. "Come left and proceed straight ahead for 35 meters, then wait for me to signal. Striker just engaged an Atlas before I got caught dancing with these two. I'll hop over to a better vantage point and we'll try and end that conflict quickly."
"Striker squaring off against another Atlas! May the Lord have mercy on the poor SOBs soul! Let's see if there is anything left for us to do. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the…" The Warhammer turned in the direction Jess indicated and proceeded to march to the ambush point as Jess turned her attention to finding a good vantage point.
Ah ha! It'll take a couple of jumps to get there, but we'll have him! Mashing down hard on her foot pedals Privateer's XO was rewarded with the reassuring rush of 75 tons of death delivering war machine rising once again into the darkness to continue the hunt.
…
Wendy wrenched her 'Mech's controls forcing the 100 ton Atlas to slip around yet another boulder while running at flank speed. Her suppressed 360 degree view provided a right to left visual of the laser fire that struck and played across the surface of the boulder she had just avoided.
"Son of a {Naughty}!" Wendy swore aloud.
I've never seen an Atlas recover into a firing position from frontal prone so fast! She reflected swinging wide around yet another rock, then a second. Wendy slogged through the sand blasted darkness to find a place to come about and face her opponent again. A sharp left turn had her racing up a narrow crevasse penned in on both sides by an unbroken series of immovable stone.
Up ahead there! Just 30 meters more and I'll be able to swing around, and if I'm lucky catch this guy marching straight down my guns! IF I'm fast enough! With that thought driving her on, Wendy coaxed her lumbering giant up beyond the manufacturer's top speed rating by will power alone, even against the driving storm and shifting sand underneath her 'Mechs massive feet.
Almost there! Wendy's eyes flicked up to check her six. 5 meters from the mouth of crevasse the enemy Atlas began turning into the 50 meter channel.
Damn there's my boy now. Sometimes I think I should have gone with my gut and installed some rear firing lasers like Allen's Battlemaster has. 2 meters!
The Atlas cleared the last outcropping and threaded four Medium lasers straight up the stone corridor to carve out deep flowing rivers of precious armor from Wendy's back.
1 meter! Break left NOW! Wendy yanked hard on her controls, willing the 100 ton monster into yet another science defying maneuver. The instant her 'Mech stepped free of the confines of the rock ravine her comm. sprung to life.
"Dingo watch out! An Atlas just popped out 40 meters behind us!"
"Ahh, that's ok Ghul it's only Striker trying to sneak up on us!"
"Negative Dingo! This is Striker, I've got another Atlas on my six, and this guy is an Alpha Tango! Get that bucket of bolts out of here!"
"No can do Striker, " The drop in Dingo's normally jovial tone was audible even through the battle filters, "I've got a herd of Zulus here. Ghul, get behind me and lead those PBIs over to the exit point NOW!"
"But…"
"No discussions, you've only got the LRMs left and they're not going to do a damned thing in this storm. Now execute the order! Striker get your 'Mech into firing position, I'll keep your suitor busy."
"Dingo are you NUTS!" Wendy called into her comm. while attempting to reverse her course with a wide right turn that would give her a firing solution and maneuvering room when the enemy Atlas finally made it out into the open. There was little chance that the 100 ton monster could be brought down in the time it took to traverse a mere 50 meters.
Dingo ignored Striker and the others pleas to his sanity and kicked the scout 'Mech into high gear, racing over the shortest possible distance to the closest point where he could begin firing on the enemy 'Mech. Four medium lasers immediately flashed all around the bird like 'Mech as Dingo danced between the beams meant for a much larger target. His return fire, while lacking in the raw power and techno-dance floor flare, was true to it's mark. Striking low-right on the Atlas' cockpit and slashing toward the upper-left. That show of piloting skill and marksmanship earned Dingo the full attentions of the enemy pilot, who responded with a withering array of autocannon and energy weapons fire, all passing harmlessly through the space where the Locust had been moments before.
To Wendy the scene seemed to shift into a surreal slow motion. Never a good sign She thought wryly. Gravity, the intense storm and ever shifting sand floor of the canyon thwarted her attempts to get her massive war machine back around into a firing position. She watched as the Locust performed a breathtaking dance amidst the deadly lasers, then fire it's puny laser and vanish just prior to the inevitable response, shouting into the comm. for Dingo to get clear the whole while.
Continuing to ignore Wendy's shouts, Dingo waited for the last depleted uranium slug to pass before leaping before the dragon's mouth again. Appearing 35 meters in front of the opening long enough to snap off another burst from his underpowered Medium laser before flitting to safety again. This time he was not so lucky as the enemy pilot connected with a second burst of heavy autocannon fire. In an instant the Locust's left arm vanished in a flurry of debris. The impact spinning the little 'Mech half around forcing Dingo to perform a two-step hop maneuver in order to keep the Locust from going down.
"Well you're right about this guy," Dingo admitted, "he's good. Now just another couple of seconds with this flashlight and I'll have him right where he wants me!" Dingo could be heard chuckling over the comm. at his own joke as he continued, "Feel free to join in anytime Striker. I can't fight all your battles for you." More return fire speared out from the opening cutting through sand swept space once more, the enemy pilot trying in vain to out guess Dingo's next move.
.
Wendy's response would have made an old space sailor gasp, but stopped short as she finally stepped back into the battle. Waiting just a moment for the enemy's attempt to swat Dingo had subsided. Dingo took his cue
"Oh, did I mention? X marks the spot."
Quickly assessing the situation, Wendy allowed herself a tight grin and an extra moment to carefully take aim. Dingo had reversed his earlier shot and carved an X over the whole Atlas' cockpit. However, that wasn't the only thing he'd managed to accomplish. The enemy pilot had been far too focused on crushing the accurate little bug.
"NOW!" Came Jessica's order as her Marauder touched down lightly on the outer canyon wall.
Twin azure beams of man made lightning raced dual Medium Pulse lasers straight up the crevasse to converge with yet another PPC blast and dual Medium Pulse laser grouping descending from above.
As the concentrated fire traversed the short distance at the speed of light another voice began over the open comm. "The heathen hoard will quake before the righteous who wield the hammer of God!" The Reverend's voice boomed with his best feverish sermon pitch.
At the same moment, Wendy loosed her entire energy weapons compliment and lobbed a Gauss slug up the reverse side of the ravine. The canal briefly lit up as the laser and PPC display illuminated the scene. Enemy armor from front and back dissolved under the touch of multiple artificial suns, only to be blasted clear by the PPCs. Where armor opened up, electrical talons born from the storm's intensity followed the path created by the 'Mech weapons to ravage the delicate innards of the mighty war machine. Even Dingo managed to add to the carnage, snipping at the giant once more with the underpowered weapon at his disposal.
All this, however, did not fell the monster. It was the Gauss slug that followed Dingo's advise and found his mark. The already lightly damaged cockpit put up little resistance to the high speed projectile, which smashed man and metal both into an unrecognizable spray of blood soaked debris. Even as the remains toppled backward into the abyss, the insidious black box completed it's task and destroyed all traces of the titan.
With the Atlas' passing the storm seemed to lighten, as though nature's fury was finally appeased by this last sacrifice. Sweat drenched and exhausted, Wendy simply slapped the shut down override and turning, she and the others strode back to rejoin the rest of the unit at the exit point. Not even Dingo could find words to describe the disrespect for the living and dead those devices represented.
…
Nadir Jump point, Astrokaszy
Periphery
8 June 3059
08:21:20 localtime
A microburst of energy thrust into existence and sped toward the system's third planet traveling faster than the speed of light, detectable by only the most sophisticated equipment surviving from the Star League era.
Warrior's Despair region, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy
Periphery
8 June 3059
08:21:31 localtime
The displays whirred to life as the auto-receiver detected an incoming response. The sudden sound causing the man dressed as a simple desert trader to startle and look around wildly. He quickly recovered and chided himself for jumping at shadows. This cave was very well concealed from any form of detection. The hard part had been convincing the Astrokaszy City council to commit to the long trek to this safe haven rather than choosing one of the closer ones. Luckily the arrival of survivors from the outlands had tipped the scales in favor of the larger sanctuary, then it had just been a matter of preventing them from breaking up into smaller groups.
The chance encounter with the Merc unit had provided valuable information to include in his report, sent just 14 hours ago.
The message received light flashed on the holy device, and the man gave thanks to Blake for yet another successful deliverance before keying in his access numbers and decrypting the message. The encryption on a message like this one, to a hidden station took several minutes to finally display. When it did the message was short, but caused the man to offer up several more prayers of thanks before clearing the message banks and initiating a shutdown. The man committed the message to memory:
Situation understood. The servants of Blake are many, a unit of the chosen is very near. Blake's wrath will illuminate these shadows swiftly.
Note: Ryan Praska is known to ROM. Gather all info on him and his unit as possible. Be cautious, but vigilant. Observe all.
Blake smiles upon you.
Quietly the desert trader emerged from a shadow bend in the cave passage and slipped once again back into the crowd of survivors, all the while absorbed with the problem of finding these Privateers.
Twin Pikes Pass, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy
Periphery
8 June 3059
08:29:14 localtime
A little left. No, back some. There! Allen unleashed the full arsenal of his BattleMaster, with the exception of the Short Range Missile 6 pack. The enemy Warhammer withered under the assault. Tons of armor melted and ran down in streams, throwing the 'Mech suddenly off balance. Both arms separated from the war machine to go spinning off into the swirling storm, carrying with them the 'Mech's two primary weapons. The Warhammer pilot twisted wildly attempting to break free from the BattleMaster's death grip. In the utter darkness of the electrically charged storm, and struggling to survive Allen's assault, the Warhammer pilot had little opportunity to assess the immediate terrain. Side stepping right the 70 ton 'Mech came down hard on the soft sandstone ridge of the cliff wall which, unknown to the Warhammer pilot, caused pressure cracks to shoot down through the embankment in a spider's web of intersecting weak points. The first indication the enemy pilot had that something was going terribly wrong was the vertigo sensation that passed through his middle ear, feed directly into his brain through the Warhammer's neuro-helmet. His mind raced attempting to process the sensation being forcibly imposed over his own sense of balance. In a fraction of a second his brain came to two conclusions, one a simple fact, the other caused a shock of panic to course through his nervous system. The BattleMech's attitude was rapidly changing, which meant, it was going over the side of the cliff!
Allen had to quickly check his sensors, for the target he had just engaged was simply no longer there. The Warhammer had just vanished, no flash indicating the sinister black box had done it's job, it was just gone! As impressive as an alpha strike from his upgraded BattleMaster is, there is little possibility that a 70 ton 'Mech would simply vaporize. His sensors were not as easily fooled however. Allen watched in stunned silence as the image of a Warhammer, already 10 meters below his position, dropped at an incredible rate. In the slightly heaver than earth standard gravity of Astrokaszy the Warhammer wasted no time in reaching an acceleration rate just over 10.4 meters per second squared. The war machine traversed another 50 meters in just over 2 seconds before reaching the first impact point and beginning an ungainly spin. Despite the awe inspiring sight being painted on his screen, another more pressing matter suddenly came to his attention.
The soft sandstone of the cliff wall was continuing to erode, the Warhammer had triggered a landslide!
Damn! This whole cliff is about to go! Allen though as his threw the Assault 'Mech into reverse. The landslide was gaining when Allen risked a 180 degree spin-turn and threw his 'Mech into a full run. Twisting hard to barely avoid one of the large boulders only to careened off the next Allen got tossed around roughly in his command chair. The sound of metal scrapping off rock was nearly deafening in the confines of the BattleMaster cockpit. Chancing a glance backward he noticed a couple of things.
OK! Ok! It looks like the erosion has stopped! Hey, is it me or can I see a little better? Slowing to a walk, Allen circled back to examine the landslide area.
"Mongoose, this is Leader. Do you read?" At first nothing, but just before he tried again a weak signal came through, and was getting stronger.
"Ro-er, L—der, Mongoose rea-s."
"What's our situation?"
"Not bad, All Tangos are down, we did loose one transport but our people got out ok and all units are making their way to the exit point. Dingo even survived tangling with an Atlas. I'd say it was a {Naughty} miracle."
"I'm not even going to ask why Dingo engaged an Atlas while piloting a Locust. Just save me the battle ROMs."
"Ha. Roger Leader."
"How did Yanskoff and his people fare?"
"Not as good I'm afraid, he lost half his 'Mechs but the old pirate himself, survived. Lost his comm. though. He's starting to remind me of Thomson."
"Right." Allen responded digesting this information. Ryan doesn't make that reference lightly, I wonder what the story is? I thought I saw Yanskoff briefly during that last encounter. Ryan knows more than he can say over the open comm. "We'll talk about it later. Let's just proceed with our original plans."
"Roger." Ryan responded, pleased that Allen seemed to get the gist of his message. "By the way, our guides tell me the storm is about to break. What's your sit-rep?"
"I'm standing on the new edge of the plateau where we came up. My last opponent thought he'd get creative and threw himself over the side." Allen could hear more an more chuckles over the comm. as he began to see more light through his canopy. "I wonder if it was something I…" As the storm lightened, more and more systems began reporting in better detail. First the comm., then the HUD painted the terrain in more exacting detail, finally the sensors. A quick beep of an enemy contact faded in and out, causing Allen to falter in his latest burst of humor. Then it returned, and then another followed. And another. As quickly as the storm began, it died away, bathing the mountainous area in brilliant light from Astrokaszy's sun. While cheers could be heard across the comm. from those who's spirits were lifted by the breaking of the storm, Allen's stomach threatened to drop completely through the cockpit floor.
"CONTACT!" Allen yelled, overriding all other discussions breaking onto the Privateers channel. Standing up from his command chair, Allen leaned forward pressing his helmet up against the canopy to try and make some visual sense of the information his battle computer was feeding him. Even as the landslide continued to cascade down the lower reaches of the mountain, smashing aside everything in it's path, all down the cliff side, as far as the eye could see, hundreds of BattleMechs rose like mythical desert monsters from the sand, breaking free of the covering left by the landslide. "Mongoose are you getting this? Are these reading correct?" Allen almost whispered in reverence to this awesome sight.
"CONFIRM LEADER! Rough count is nearly a complete division!" silence followed the announcement.
"All units break for the exit point! Mongoose, rig that canyon for demolition!" Allen ordered, throwing himself back into the command chair and thrusting his 'Mech into motion.
"Way ahead of you chief! Area is ready for departure."
…
Desolate Plains, Astrokaszy
Wastelands
Periphery
8 June 3059
08:37:21 localtime
The red incoming communication indicator, imbedded in the flawless surface of the black desk, sprang to life with a simple chime. A heavy set hand reached out leisurely and touched the light, opening the comm.
Without preamble the deep smooth base uttered a single word. "Report."
Standing in the war room of the mighty command DropShip the senior officer stood at attention before the visual comm. knowing that every facet of his physical demeanor and sometimes, he privately mused, his soul, are being measured. All others present attacked their individual tasks with renewed fervor, fearful of being viewed by their leader doing anything that might displease him.
"Three items Sir! The special ground forces combing the remains of St. Ivan City report they have located the artifact." Despite the overwhelming sense of relief the officer and the other members of this battle group felt at hearing this news, the officer betrayed no emotion and did not expect to hear any from their leader. Thus he continued with his report without pause. "Second, the sand storm is breaking and communications with all units has been restored. Third, Alpha commander reports a landslide in the mountainous region where the 'Mech forces are currently deployed in pursuit of some kind of small force. The enemy has been able to destroy the scout company sent in advance of the main column."
The unnatural sound of the unexpected laughter that issued from the comm. caused even the senior officer to jump slightly and forced a cold shiver up his spine.
"So, there is still some fight left in these desert rats. Very well. Let us end this game. Deploy the fighters and inform me when the artifact is aboard." With that the comm. line terminated. The officer obeyed the first half of his new orders instantly. At the press of a button alarms began blaring throughout all of the DropShips of the massive battle fleet.
Flight crews raced to their pre-assigned positions, hurrying to ready the fighter armada for deployment. Flight bay doors immediately began opening while flight controllers started the impossible task of coordinating the launch of over a hundred fighters from the tightly clustered DropShip LZ.
…
Twin Pikes Pass, Veiled Mountain Range, Astrokaszy
Periphery
8 June 3059
08:30:47 localtime
In contrast to the utter darkness of the raging sandstorm outside, the interior compartments of the sandcrawling troop-carrier were brightly lit. Scattered over every available surface of this particular compartment were various circuit boards and technical tools. Wires and circuit jumpers crisscrossed the area, some performing their original interconnections while others bridged broken or uncooperative circuits. Of the four people sharing this space with the myriad, nearly random assortment of electronics, three were hurriedly rushing back and fourth between various display consoles and the scattered circuit boards. The fourth, a soldier, simply sat in the corner with his assault rifle leaning against the wall next to him having long ago given up trying to make conversation with the technophiles left in his care. The sound of the crawler's tracks caused a constant background noise to vibrate through the compartment, which seemed to drive the techs crazy providing the soldier with his only source of entertainment since this long trek had begun. The crawler lurched as it passed over yet another obstacle, rather than going around under the battle conditions. The soldier caught his rifle with a simple movement, again, as the techs threw themselves over the delicate equipment attempting to prevent further damage amid shouts of indignation, again.
"These optical processors are communicating way too fast for this equipment," Jennifer Hawkins, the Privateer's assistant chief tech complained from a console along the left wall of the transport. "I'm attempting to synchronize, hold on…I've got it!" The console scrambled as the vehicle pitched. "Dammit! Something severed with that last lurch!"
Ron looked up from his vain spread eagle attempt to keep the equipment from flying free under the erratic motion of the crawler and fixed the soldier with a withering glare, "DAMMIT! Don't those drivers understand? This is very delicate! Would it kill them to try and avoid one rock?!"
The soldier fixed Ron with a calm stare and responded simply, "Maybe. Could be it would kill us all."
This simple answer seemed to be enough for Ron, whose expression dropped from indignation to real concern. "Right. Ok, Dillan did you see where the connection broke?"
The young Astrokaszy native looked up from the circuit board he had been focusing on during Ron's tirade, "Yeah, I saw it go, but I think I got it fixed. Jen, is it up now?"
"No… Yes! That got it, thanks! Ok, ok, hang on…" Jennifer seemed to be hypnotized by the fast shifting displays.
No one could actually be reading anything on those flickering images. The soldier though to himself as he stood to observe the impossibly fast flashes of information appearing and disappearing on Jennifer's screen.
Ron seemed to be able to read the soldier's mind as he voiced his answer to the soldier's unspoken comment, "Actually, I've seen her read faster. Impressive isn't it?" The soldier gave Ron an incredulous look and was about to respond when Jennifer let out a short cry, snapping everyone around to stare in her direction.
"GOT IT!" She yelled triumphantly. "Ok, I've got 21 codes, hang on… Yes, looks like 3 groupings of 7, each with one sub-grouping of 3 and four individual codes."
"How are you sorting these," asked Ron with genuine interest as he leaned over the console.
"Desert demons! You've already found an underlying algorithm." Dillan breathed reverently, leaning in over the opposite side.
Jennifer beamed up at the other two, "Yup, I'm a long way from cracking it, but, I did find a common thread. It wasn't nearly as hard as I thought. Whoever built these things obviously didn't really believe anyone would ever get the thing open, let alone short circuit their hardwired security without the thing self destructing."
"Ok," Ron started slowly, "so now all we have to do is broadcast one of these groupings on the right frequency destroying the enemy and save the day. So any ideas on which one?"
"Why not just broadcast all of 'em?" Dillan asked naively.
Ron donned the professor look and tone he had taken to assuming when teaching Dillan some new lesson on modern technology. "Because, each series will have 3 codes for the 'Mech we captured, one will probably affect the lance, the company, the battalion, and finally the regiment. Then there are three groupings which probably translates into simply fall apart, blow-up and … well, clear the immediate area of all life for the next 5 thousand years or so."
"Oh," Dillan responded sheepishly.
"Well," Jennifer started again, having turned back to the console while the other's debated, "I've got two of the groups narrowed down as being just a single bit apart."
"So, "Ron jumped in following Jennifer's logic, "Those two groupings are probably the 2a and 2b paths, so if we send the other one then an enemy regiment will simply dissolve!" Ending in an triumphant exclamation Ron looked around wildly for the comm. to radio the Captain as Jen and Dillan nodding their agreement with his conclusion. Ron finally found the comm. under a toolbox, but as soon as he turned it on it sprang to life.
"CONTACT!" Came the Captain's warning shout from the speakers embedded in key locations throughout the compartment. Ron looked over at the other two techs in sudden concern, then over at the soldier who was now at full attention, his assault rifle ready in his hands.
"Mongoose are you getting this? Are these reading correct?" The Captain's voice barely more than an awe inspired whisper.
"CONFIRM LEADER! Rough count is nearly a complete division!" Silence followed the announcement in the crawler compartment as well as over the comm.; a quick glance over at the soldier was all Ron needed to confirm that what was just announced was even worse than he thought it was.
"All units break for the exit point! Mongoose, rig that canyon for demolition!"
"Way ahead of you chief! Area is ready for departure."
"What's a division?" Dillan asked into the silence that followed the short communication.
Ron was about to answer, working his brain furiously to remember the military training he had too often ignored, but their soldier guard responded first.
"Three regiments, generally a mix of 'Mechs and ground forces with possible air support. But from what we've seen so far, it's probably a 'Mech only Division which means roughly 300 plus BattleMechs, unless the storm has broke, then the hundred or so fighters are back. Which means we're all dead."
"Oh, "was all the Dillan could think to say as Jennifer got sick on the floor next to her console.
"Not if I can help it! Captain?!" Ron called into the comm. with a renewed sense of urgency. His call was lost however in the battle chatter. "CAPTAIN!" Ron screamed, attempting to overwhelm the other units attempting to coordinate the retreat.
"Squirrel? What is it, I'm kind of busy." The captain seemed annoyed.
Probably shouldn't have radioed every 30 minutes asking if he could get the crawler driver to avoid bumps. Ron thought before responding, "We've got the codes Captain!"
"Leader, Squirrel, my call sign is, wait? What codes?"
"From the device, Jennifer…" Ron began before Allen cut him off.
"Well? Can we use them?"
"Oh, well, yes. All we need to do is broadcast on the right frequency and..."
"Ron, if you can do it then now would be a great time!" Allen's voice seemed to surround the entire compartment in urgency.
"Right! Broadcasting now!" Ron absently reached over and tap-selected one of the groupings and hit send simultaneously.
"NO, NOT THAT ONE!" Jennifer screamed.
"What?" The Captain's voice queried from the still open comm. Ron turned white as he realized his mistake. He'd chosen the middle grouping, one of the two longer code sets, which meant…
"HIT THE DIRT!" Ron screamed, and everyone in the compartment dove as one.
…
