Costa Mesa

Tharkad, Donegal Province

Lyran Alliance

The echoing rattle of machinegun fire shattered the dark night, followed by the screams of the dieing.

"They're getting busy." Robert Dancer looked up at the narrow window near the ceiling, "You'd think that they'd grow sick of it…"

"Those Sassenach bastards will get what's coming to 'um lad, just you wait." His cell mate, Captain Ian Sharp of the Second Battalion, shook his head, "There ain't no way they canna' take on the whole Inner Sphere and win."

"They appear to be giving it a good go." Dancer cocked an ear, "I can hear a chopper coming in."

"Probably just another patrol…"

The Ferret Light Scout VTOL landed on the rain-swept pad near the stockade, following the directions of the crew chief on the ground. The passenger door opened, reviling four tall figures in the black body armour used by Word of Blake shock-troops, their dark-tinted visor covering their faces. The led out a shackled Sara Bradley, almost dragging her across the tarmac to the nearest guard.

"We found this one wondering in the forest." The lead shock-trooper grabbed the young lieutenant, "She claims to be militia, but her uniform is ComStar."

"Very well." The bored sounding guard seemed uninterested, "Throw her in a cell for now: we'll interrogate her later."

"Sir!" The shock-trooper saluted, and dragged the helpless tactical officer off towards the stockade.

The huge mass-huller braked at the checkpoint, the Word of Blake trooper in the drivers cab climbing down the ladder on the side, "Shipment of foodstuffs from the outlaying farms." He handed the senior guard a clipboard.

"I didn't think the indigs were willing to supply us?" The guard asked.

"They weren't." The trooper grinned, "But I don't think they'll be offering too much in the way of resistance next time."

"Have to teach them a lessen did you?"

"Let's just say those farmers' daughters can be real friendly, when their lives depend on it."

"Guess I'll have to put in for a patrol sometime." The guard laughed, signalling for the barricade to be opened, "Take it through."

The trooper climbed back into the cab and closed the door, "God I'm going to enjoy this…"

"They've got Bradley." Dancer peered out the narrow window, "No sign of the Colonel." He jumped back down to the floor, "They're coming this way: let's get ready."

"You take the left, I'll take the right." Sharpe got into position beside the door, "We'll tech the wee bastards a thing or two."

The door opened, admitting first one guard, then another. Dancer and Sharpe leapt at them, knocking them to the ground and trying to grab their weapons in the ensuring struggle.

"You guys need a hobby." Cairo remarked, looking in from the doorway, "You have WAY to much free time on your hands."

"STEVEN!" Dancer scrambled to his feet and embraced his friend, "We figured you where dead!"

"Now where have I heard that one before?" Cairo ushered the last 'guard' in and closed the door, "Where are the others?"

"Most are in this cell block, some in the Command Centre as hostages." Sharpe took an offered laser pistol, "Those that the Blakist bastard's have'na used as target practise…"

"WHAT!" Cairo's eyes went wide.

"It's true: they've executed most of the Militia." Dance nodded grimly, "They just line them up against a wall and shoot them. And some of the civilians too."

"This has to end now!" Cairo grabbed a radio from his belt, "This is Chameleon to Convoy and Turtle: bring on the pain!"

The mass-huller skidded to a stop outside the main Word of Blake barracks, pyrotechnic charges in the side exploding, dropping the sheet of metal to the ground to reveal an entire Star of Ghost Bear Elementals. As one, they fired their SRM's into the low building, demolishing it.

The waters of the Aphrodite rive parted as almost an entire Cluster of OmniMechs charged up the banks and into the city, weapons tracking the nearest hostile. Small patrol cars and infantry squads disappeared in a cloud of missile and laser fire.

"Ok, we get as many people free and armed as we can, then hit the Command Centre and take it back." Cairo clutched his assault rifle close, "From there we can gain access to the Mech bays as armoury." He looked along the corridor, "Which one's Sinade in?"

"She isn't." Dancer shook his head, "Anyone above the rank of Major was considered valuable, and so was taken as one of the hostages: they got her, Jack Cameron, Patrick Clearwater and General Spendlove."

"No mater what happens, Grissum is mine!" Cairo looked at the others , "No one touches him."

The city was a seen from Dante's Inferno: The Ghost Bear Mechs and Elementals ripped into the Blakist defenders like the Angel of Death, ripping them apart, never even thinking of prisoners.

Militia units who had gone underground after the takeover took to the streets, dispensing swift justice to any Blakist or collaborator they found.

The DropShips at the Spaceport opened up, concentrating their firepower on the fixed emplacements that had smashed the Broken Hammer, reducing them to rubble.

"Ok, it's 20-meters or so from here to the Command Centre." Cairo crouched down behind a low wall just outside the stockade, his rag-tag commando team carrying whatever weapons they had been able to acquire from their former jailers, "Once we start, we don't stop for anything. Got that?" The other nodded, "Ok, let's go!"

To Be Continued…