Tukayyid City Spaceport,

Tukayyid,

Free Rasalhague Republic.

Cairo's first instinct was to start is Mech forward so he could see how badly damaged his wife's Centurion was. He had barley taken a step when his view was blocked by the imposing visage of Robert Dancers TDK-7X Thunder Hawk blocked his view. He was about to scream a string of curses over the radio when the 100-tonne Mech shudder under enemy fire: the Smoke Jaguars on the DropShip had disembarked and where heading down the street. Cairo's mind fell back on it's training, and he automatically backed his Templar back round the corner.

Dancer's voice came over the radio, "You need to calm down Steve: I know how you feel, I felt the same back on Callisto-V, when I saw Rebecca go down as we fought our way to the DropShip. You go rushing in there and you'll just get yourself killed, and that won't help her!" Cairo tried to relax, but the unfamiliar cockpit made it difficult: had this been his old Orion, he would have been able to react faster, and Sinead would not be in danger, "I hear you Rob." He changed frequencies, "Sinead, can you hear me?"

"Steven? What happened?" Sinead's voice sounded week. Cairo gripped his joystick so hard his knuckles went white, "You got caught in the blast when the Grand Dragon went critical: your Mech fell through a wall." Sinead coughed, "I'm hurt real bad Steve, I can't feel m legs, and their blood everywhere." Cairo wanted to move his Mech, but the Dancer had used a second radio channel to order the others to box him in. He looked at his heads-up display, "Scout Lance, pull back to the DropShip and pick up as many of the Elementals as you can, and have the port authorities send an ambulance. Everyone else, provide covering fire: we have to keep the Jaguars from advancing too far down the road."

The radio was full of voices confirming his orders, and Lance commanders began to sort out their own individual units, getting them into positions where they could provide suppressing fire on the Trinary of Mech's leapfrogging up the road. Cairo checked the timer on his HUD: 90-secounds until the Spirit Sight was in a position to get a shot in at the surface, "This is Highball calling Lancaster 1, fire-for-affect, my position plus 500-meters due west. Request support from fast-movers ASAP." Star-Commodore Ivan Leroux's sounded ill at ease, "Please confirm target Highball." Cairo looked up, even though he had no hope of seeing the WarShip in the sunlight sky, "Highball confirms fire-for-affect, my position plus 500-meters due west." "Lancaster 1 confirms, 60-seconds until target." Leroux still sounded tense.

"Lancaster 1, this is Proteus, disregard Highballs last transition, and fire on the Jaguars Landing Zone, maximum effect." The new voice cut in over the babble in the background. Cairo's eyes went wide when he recognised the other person, "Clearwater you bastard, don't do this!" The Precentor's voice remained calm, "Lancaster 1, Confirm target as Jaguar LZ." Leroux's voice was full of angst, "Lancaster 1 confirms target as LZ. Firing!"

The blinding beam of light from the Covert's bow-mounted Class-45 Navel Laser cut through the air like the finger of some vengeful god. The Condor-class DropShip exploded as the beam cut through into its engineering section and set of its fuel tanks, sending fire raining down from the Sky. Leroux's voice came back over the link, "Lancaster 1 is out of position: Lancaster 2 will be in orbit in t-minus 5-muinets. I am sorry Steven. Fast Movers will be on your position in 60-seconds."

Cairo didn't even hear the words, let alone respond.

To Be Continued