CNC Spirit Sight,

Inbound,

Tharkad system,

Lyran Alliance.

The small warship shuddered slightly under foot as the main drive powered it forward. Cairo leaned against the wall, his body straining against the 2-G's of acceleration as the squadron burned hard to cut it's speed for orbital incursion in two days time. The Draconis Rift and the Vigilant had been left to guard the 3 JumpShip's at the pirate point, while the 4 other WarShip's escorted the 10 DropShips carrying the Irregulars to the Lyran capital.

Cairo wished he could be with his wife aboard the Fitzpatrick, the Union-C class DropShip carrying his command unit and two lances from Second Battalion, but he was needed on the flagship. The bridge doors opened when he placed his hand on the fingerprint scanner, and the pair of un-armoured Elementals on guard duty stood to attention as he stepped through.

The bridge was a hive of activity as the crew scanned the space sounding the small fleet of ships for anything hostile. The holo-tank at the center of the room showed a three-dimensional representation of the fleet, the DropShip's staying close to the WarShips, with Aerospace fighters darting around like minnows around a pod of whales.

Ivan Leroux motioned him over, moving so he could see a screen representing the planet of Tharkad itself, "As you can see here, Word of Blake controls the western hemisphere, and their fleet stays in geostationary orbit, while the Lyran fleet, and the ships sent by Clan Wolf-in-Exile, stay in orbit above the capital city." The screen showed the two WarShip fleets, separated by the diameter of the planet.

Cairo nodded, "What of the rest of the Alliance? Can the army's on Coventry or Arc-Royal punch through and take either jump points?" The Star-Commodore shook his head, typing a command into the keyboard next to the screen. The image changed to show a representation of the Lyran Alliance, "Neg. As you can see, Word of Blake forces have all but split encircled this system. There is still heavy fighting going-on on Donegol and Saravan, but if they win there, it will be a clear run through to Coventry, or to Arc-Royal to meet up with the division already attacking Clan Wolf-in-Exile. Things are still in the balance there: Word of Blake used tactical nuclear weapons to destroy two WarShip's in orbit."

The very mention of the use of nuclear weapons made the two me shiver involuntarily, more so because of the warheads carried on the Nature's Wrath. Warheads that could, in a matter of minuets, be fitted to the ships White Shark Missiles. The use of Weapons of Mass Destruction had be strictly regulated since the Ares Convention was signed in 2412, and had all but disappeared at the end of the 3rd Succession war. Although there had been limited isolated events, things where stable for the most part. That was, until now.

DropShip Fitzpatrick,

Assault Orbit,

Tharkad,

Lyran Alliance.

Cairo listened tentatively to the limited com-traffic being passed to him by the fibre-optic cable connecting his Mech to the DropShip's bridge. His Mech's instrument panel provided his only illumination inside the drop-pod, his own slow, deep breath his only companion.

His mind kept slipping to the occupant of the drop-pod immediately to his left: he had asked, begged and pleaded with his wife to stay on Tukayyid, but she had flat out refused. He could understand why: their daughter was on Tharkad, and it had been almost two years since either of them had seen her. She was growing up while they where making sure she had a universe to grow up in.

The DropShip shook reputably, the voice on the com-line reporting hostile fighters approaching at high speed. Cairo gripped the Templar's controls as the Fitzpatrick went into freefall, trying to reach a cloud back before the hostile fighters could make another pass. He felt his stomach lift, as the floor appeared to disappear beneath his seat. The sensation lasted a matter of seconds before the drive kicked back in, but it left him with the taste of bile in the back of his throat. He knew that Sinead would be worse: the motion sickness mixing with her morning sickness, making her life a living hell. Well, he had told her to stay on Tukayyid.

A claxon sounded, indicating 60-seconds to touchdown. Cairo looked at his altimeter: they where still at lest 2.5-km from the surface. The pilot must be using every last ounce of his skill to bring the ship in at such speeds. The ship tilted violently to one side, sending Cairo forward, his harness digging into his shoulders. A second shudder sent him back into his seat as the DropShip touched down on the spaceport concourse.

The drop-pod split open alone the vertical, light from the Mech bays lights flooding in. a deckhand with a pair of luminous wands directed him to step slowly forward, being careful to avoid hitting any structural supports with his AssaultMech's broad shoulders. A second wave sent his slowly towards the capping Mech bay doors and the twilight beyond.

The loading ramp rattled as the Templar made it's way down to the concrete, 85-tons of metal threatening the topple at a moments notice. Cairo stopped about 50-meters from the DropShip so the rest of the Mech's could disembark, lance and company commanders trying to organise their sub-units. The other three Mech's of Cairo's command lance formed up behind him.

A dark green ARC-6S Archer bearing the symbol of the 1st Royal Guards RCT walked over, followed by an identical painted CN9-D5 Centurion. The Archer came to a stop and raised its right arm slightly, "Colonel Cairo, Hauptmann Carlyle. General Steiner sends his greetings, and asks that you accompany me to command." Cairo nodded, raising his own Mech's arm, "Then lead on."

To Be Continued…