We marched about 10 miles away from the campsite, when Lisa radioed in, "Rick, what is our next move?"
"Well, we have to get to Seattle as fast as we can, to rehabilitate the injured, and to join forces with the 50 mecha and 10,000 infantry that Barton can command and field against Maistroff. We'd better start now."
"But what about the refugees," Miriya asked. "We can't just abandon them."
"Miriya, I'd love to help them, but taking along a dozen 40 foot humanoids would kind of eliminate our attempts at being stealthy."
"We also can't leave them to Howe's tender mercies, Rick," Max chipped in.
"I know, I know…"
"Why not leave a guard of four Destroids to guard them, while we march to Seattle," Lisa asked.
"And what happens if we encounter this same situation again, Lisa," I asked, rhetorically. "We'll fight them, suffer some casualties, have to guard refugees, and then leave more units to protect them. We cannot be ten-percented to death."
All of us fell silent for a few moments as I thought heavily. What should we do about these refugees? They're unarmed, unarmored, we have no food or other provisions to take care of them with, and they're a dead giveaway if a search party goes overhead to find us. Of course, our own electronics would be dead giveaways, but at least we'd have the ability to defend ourselves.
But the opposite facts were also true. Howe and his men would keep sending their butchermechs after the refugees until they were all dead. It was only sixty miles, anyway. Barton would probably have some way of taking care of them, once we got there.
I decided to split the difference. "Miriya, select three of your top pilots to join you. We'll leave you guys to guard the refugees until they can recoup and get moving to safety. We'll get to Seattle and send reinforcements and supplies should you need them."
"Aye, sir. Holmes, Washington and Watson, break ranks and stand with me."
I bid the three pilots Godspeed, and then broke up the remaining lances in her column amongst the three remaining divisions.
"Shouldn't we try to get Barton's attention, boss?"
"We should try to maintain radio silence if at all possible, Max," I said. "But try it on an alternating frequency, see if he responds."
"We're getting a response, Captain," came back Max's ace radioman, Frederic Jomphe-Staadt, also known as Jump Start.
"What is it, Jump Start?"
"It says that Barton's base is under siege, and cannot offer reinforcements to us in the field. However, if we make it to his base, we can repair and refit our mechs as long as there are supplies to do so."
Charming. Fifty-five miles from salvation, and it becomes purgatory. I really didn't want to use our jet engines, we were low on fuel; but the situation dictated that we abandon all thoughts of conservation, because if we didn't, then Barton's base might not be able to supply us, and the rebellion would falter.
"Okay, people, change of plans. All Destroid units, hold position. Form a defense cordon around the refugees. We're going to aid Col. Barton, and we'll come back to get you in the morning. Protect the refugees at all costs. Miriya, you're still in command. We'll wait for your signal at dawn."
She looked over and nodded at me. "All VT squadrons, take off in hover mode and assume flight capabilities. Conserve your fuel best you can, but don't be Scrooge-like. We have comrades to save," I signaled, turning my craft into a Guardian.
Soon, all 36 fighters were airborne and winging their way towards the beleaguered Seattle base. A half hour later, we saw the base under constant missile and PPC fire. Particle cannons are no laughing matter. They hurt like hell, and they cook off a fair amount of armor per hit. They also added a heavy-duty assault mech, the Atlas, to their artillery. The thick ferrocrete walls were crumbling, and looked like they wouldn't stand much more punishment.
"Okay, gals and pals, Treble Wave formation. Lisa, lead the Hawks to take out the PPC emplacements. Max, ride in with the Wraiths and target the LRM launchers. I'll take the Rogues to clean up the wonderful mess that that assault mech is making."
A chorus of affirmatives greeted my ears, and I hit the jamming frequencies and signaled my flight leaders. "Murdock, Parker, we swing like a door. Line your flights up around my fighter, making me the hinge. On my cue, we hit that mech from behind so fast it'll think that the Second Coming is at hand. Move."
Lisa's pilots took out the five cannons, and Max's crew disabled the LRM launchers. However, the Atlas had become enraged, taking down several VT's with its gauss rifle (rail gun) and LRM 20 launcher. My pilots formed up and flew towards its back, exposed like the broadside of a ship in a surging ocean. Twelve autocannons opened up on him. Eight of the streams hit. His backside and his legs looked like pure hell. Then, we opened up with our LRM launchers and really gave it hell. Every volley was on target. The mech never knew what had hit it. The pilot could not have survived the explosion, either, and a small fusion explosion is not a pretty picture.
"Captain Hunter, sir," cried the radio.
"The one and only, base."
A warm chuckle replied. "This is Colonel Barton of the 406th. Permission is granted for you and your pilots to land and rest."
There was loud cheering on the all-hands channel, and I replied, "Sounds like the best idea I've heard all night, sir. But while we're at it, our Destroids need to be relieved, as well. Could you send out a force to replace them at the coordinates I'm sending you?"
"Received and will comply. You saved our collective asses, Hunter. Now get your pilots and yourself down here for some hot grub and a good night's sleep. We'll refit you guys in the sunshine."
"Coming in, Hunter out."
*******
AN: Sorry about the delay. Retail around the holidays is not what one would call relaxing or pleasant. But here I am, back to active duty, ready to pick up where my chapters left off. Regarding the Atlas and its destruction: I made it a little oversimplified, but a total surprise attack is possible. After all, if its sensors are jammed, then it can't tell who's attacking it. And when I did the rolling (per the dice rules I mentioned in my introduction, though it's a 2d6 instead), the VT's hit with their A/C 10's and twin LRM 5 launchers. For those of you not familiar with Battletech, it's an autocannon 10 and long range missile pack 5. The VT fighters carry two of them each, equaling a punch of 12 LRM 10 packs. All of the missiles hit. Per normal rules, I'd roll for each five point cluster of damage to the Mech I was attacking, but if a Mech gets nailed by 120 missiles on its backside, even a 100-ton Mech with a fair amount of armor, it ain't gonna last too long. As always, data sheets are available upon request.
Further note: The VT customized variants I've created are using level 3 technology as used in the supplement book, Maximum Tech. They are 75 tons each, have central cockpits, turret heads, and CASE II bays (ammo explosion containment units). Anyone seeking a further explanation of this is welcomed to email me.