[CHAPTER 1: "Advance of the King's Pawn" Outreach: Col. Grenadine's Office, April, 3061]
"Alright Leftenant Strovski, you're in. I'm impressed with your record and skills. But you're gonna have a rookie team here, my whole Bravo lance was ripped to shreds in our last battle," said Colonel Grenadine, a tall grizzled veteran of a man in his mid-fifties.
"It's not a problem sir. I'd actually prefer not to have to work with people who spend their time telling me how the last person did it," I replied. Colonel Grenadine was going to be a good commander, I could tell. He was all bite and no bark, to invert the saying, and that I liked.
"My last commander, Sarasvati, is still with me; she survived and blames herself for the loss of Bravo. Try to be sensitive to her since she's my best," he asked. I took another drag on my cigarette and nodded. Really though, the last thing I wanted was to pander to some emotionally needy mechprincess.
I stayed in the mechwarrior's lounge poring over the command documents for Bravo. Finally it was time. As I walked to the towering dropship I couldn't help but feel like this was too much, too fast. I wasn't that long out of the academy and a full lance command was a big step. Hopefully I won't be saddled with some pathetic daisies riding Urbanmechs I mused. I ground my cigarette into the tarmac and ascended the ramp, my duffel slung over my shoulder.
Ah, my pride and joy. Already secure in the mech bay, my Dragon stood tall and proud. It had been my brother's once. A particle projection cannon, a missile rack, and a cluster of lasers made it a versatile mech. Fire support, strike missions, escort, and command. It was a 60-ton behemoth that dealt swift death to all who opposed it. It had been heavily modified by Gregor and was full of surprises. I felt a pang of bitterness and rage. Gregor. We had played at mechs together as children, taping sticks to our arms and boxes to our backs, imitating the giant war machines. Together we repelled the clan horde time and again in our fantasia. The clan war ended abruptly, too close to our home for comfort. We went to the academy and graduated during the uneasy peace that followed, Gregor 3 years before me, and the family mech fell to him. I never begrudged him that, he was better, after all.
As I walked up to "Eltanin", the name of our Grand Dragon, I recalled the last day I had seen him, the day he shipped out for Eaton. He said it was a choice mission, babysitting some royals. But then the planet erupted in strife, and when an assassin came in, Gregor was cut off from Eltanin and had to face him on foot. They never found his body, but they found the dead mech. Somehow he had destroyed the mech, but at the cost of his own life. I didn't remember lighting up, but the cigarette in my mouth had smoldered down to ashes by the time I was awoken from my thoughts by a clap on the shoulder. A strong arm spun me nearly around and I looked up at a giant of a man.
"Leftenant Strovski? Zanshin. Good to meet you, sir," intoned the man in a deep bass. I looked him up and down, at a loss for words. He was an Atlas. He looked Kuritan, and was carrying enough personal weaponry to flatten a city block. He gave me a firm handshake, which I am sure could have been crushing, and I finally removed my cigarette and gathered my wits.
"Excellent. Where's your mech, Private?" I followed his hand to the form of a Hatchetman. The axe was heavily scored and I broke out into a wide grin. A duelist.
"This yours?" he asked, indicating Eltanin. I nodded and blew smoke. "That's not the normal weapons loadout is it?" I grinned evilly and shook my head, drawing an approving smile from the ogre beside me. "Hand actuators too," he continued, to which I nodded. As he examined the mech I looked him over. I noticed he had a tattoo like a yin-yang on his right arm, only it was yang on yang, no yin on it. As I pondered this the dropship intercom crackled to life.
"All personnel this is Captain Siampa. Begin immediate preparations for takeoff. All officers report to the situation room." I made my way through the ship to the SitRep lounge. I put out my cigarette, straightened my fatigues, and pushed through the door.
The room was dimly lit, with a series of displays and a center table with interface consoles. Colonel Grenadine sat at the head, his gruff bearded face aged, but his eyes bright and alert. He motioned to an empty seat. I scanned the rest of the room as I made my way across the room, checking rank and caught sight of four Leftenants, two Corporals, a Captain, a Chief Tech and a Recon Leader. I received some inquisitive glances and one icy stare from a pretty young brunette sitting next to the Colonel. I took my seat and waited. Colonel Grenadine motioned for silence and pressed a button on his panel, snapping the main holo to life.
"Alright, let's get started. You've read the dossiers and planetary specs by now and know Eaton and its royals inside and out, so we'll skip the slag. Let's talk tactics. After our entry to the system, we'll set down on the salt flats north of Koch city. Eagle lance will have escort duty while Alvaria brings us down." As he said this, he motioned first to a dark, brooding man and a blonde sitting next to him, both Leftenants, and then at a Captain, presumably Alvaria, who looked like she was all business.
"We will immediately deploy Bravo and Echo lances to sweep the LZ of hostiles. We've brought on some new muscle to bring Bravo lance back online. Leftenant Strovski has a good record and solid recommendations and he'll be leading Bravo in this op, and perhaps for a while longer," continued the Colonel. At this he motioned to me and I met the many smiles, frowns, and stares with a smile and a nod. The taller Corporal, "T. Morgan", interrupted the Colonel suddenly.
"Sir, I intends no disrespect, but last time we put a rookie command on top of rookie pilots in Bravo we lost three mechs. Eagle covered it, but we can't afford that kind of loss again." I personally could have cared less what he thought, but it did torque me off. And if I was mad, the brunette next to the Colonel was positively livid. She tore into Morgan with a verbal frenzy that would've scared a lion. As she ranted, I checked her nameplate, S. Rinaldi. A hundred C-bills says S. stands for Sarasvati.
"…maybe if you hadn't botched procedure and…" continued Leftenant Rinaldi when suddenly the Colonel cut in, his patience clearly at an end.
"Sara! Terrance! That's enough out of you two. What happened in March could have happened to anyone and a number of mistakes were made. I have confidence in Vance and his team, so fuse it. Anything to add, Leftenant Strovski?" asked the Colonel.
There isn't much I hate more than being put on the spot. Clansman and Atlases that have me backed into a corner are about it. All eyes turned to me.
"Anything can happen in combat. I know Bravo's record." At this I glanced at Sarasvati, who met my eyes. "I also know that handling defeat well is better than handling victory poorly." Her glance softened and her eyes dropped. I traced my eyes to Morgan. "The true test of a warrior is when under duress. My team is ready." Not a bad speech there Vance. Approving murmurs ran around the group and Colonel Grenadine nodded. I snuck a look at Leftenant Rinaldi, but she wouldn't look at me.
The rest of the mission briefing was simple. Touchdown, sweep the area, get the royals out and hide them in the backwater regions of the planet. Then play escort while we hunted down the loyalist rebels. But I was thinking about the incident that had crippled Bravo. Sarasvati had been commander then and the ambush had resulted in one dead and two wounded. No doubt it was tough for her to see that happen to her lance. Poor girl was too young for that. She seemed nice, and her brown eyes were deep and alive, she had long brown hair that fell just past her shoulders in ringlets and… Suddenly I realized I was staring at her, and she back at me. I snapped my eyes back to the holo and forced myself to concentrate for the remainder of the briefing. My face burned. Idiot, I reprimanded myself. The briefing was soon over, and mercifully, she was the first one out. I started to pick up my things when the Colonel approached me.
"Vance, the rest of Bravo team is in the mech simulator. I suggest you sit the launch there so you can get to know them. They're a diverse squad."
"Affirmative, sir. I already met Zanshin. He's not a clan vat-job, is he?" I asked, to which he chuckled and shook his head.
"No, he's a pure blood Kuritan and hates the clanners with every pound of muscle on him, and that's a lot. You'll find the others equally talented."
I made my way to the SimDeck and entered. Zanshin stood there, and I had to look twice because he was curling a prone woman with one arm. She was laughing and flailing her limbs, while another man was looking on, an amused grin on his face. Zanshin noticed me and unceremoniously tossed his human barbell to the floor, who landed with catlike grace. Her eyes flicked to my rank and nameplate and she came to attention. She was joined by the man behind her and then reluctantly by Zanshin.
"Private Astratamos? Private Cadence?" I asked and was met with a loud tandem.
"YES SIR. READY FOR ORDERS, SIR!" I hate formality.
"At ease folks, were mercs, not the 10th Skye Rangers. I'm your new Leftenant."
We shook hands and traded names and homeworlds. The woman, Sarita Astratamos was every bit the opposite of Zanshin, as the top of her head came roughly even with his elbows. She was tiny and delicate, but still wiry and strong. She had cropped and spiked jet black hair, a tanned complexion, and a tattoo that nearly covered her exposed arms and shoulders. Her dossier read that she had been in and out of street gangs as a youth, and I could see that she was tough as nails. She drove a Griffin, a good long-range fighter with a PPC and an LRM-20. Cadence, who, like Zanshin, either didn't have or didn't use his last name, was the kind of man who would have disappeared into a crowd. Medium height and build, but his grey eyes set him apart. He was a tech whiz, I soon discovered, and he nearly made my head spin telling me about the electronics gear he had on his Raven.
"So why did you join this unit sir? I mean, it's not the best pay and you had the highest graduating scores I've seen in years." Sarita was bold, and to the point.
"The loyalists on the planet Eaton killed my brother Gregor three weeks ago," I answered.
A silence fell over the boisterous group. I wasn't sure if they were sorry or wondering how they could get out of a unit with a commander out for blood. I didn't particularly feel like answering any questions and was relieved when Captain Alvaria Siampa got on the intercom.
"Begin final countdown, all personnel prepare for departure," crackled the speaker. We strapped into the simdeck launch couches hurriedly. The ship shuddered as we took to the skies. I got to work explaining our operation to my mechwarriors. They were eager and full of questions and before I knew it we were in space and unbuckling from our seats while discussing tactics.
"I really prefer surprise ambushes and outmaneuvering the enemy before the confrontation sir, fighting at long range, double-teaming, and so forth." Sarita meched like a ganger really, I thought. Her callsign was "Solaria" and she preferred to be called that. Her street smarts would probably come in handy both on and off the battlefield.
"Well, that's not for me," rumbled Zanshin. "I prefer a decisive strike and close combat dueling." Figures he would. Not a man for subtlety at all. I sensed the tension and broke it.
"Well, we'll be doing exactly that then. Solaria and I will draw their short range mechs towards us with missile and PPC barrages, into the range of Zanshin's hatchet." At this he smiled. "Cadence, I want you to get down to the bay and calibrate your Target Acquisition Gear to Echo Lance's Arrow-IV artillery system. You'll be the surprise coupe de grace. We'll call this play the Hammer. I've got a whole book of em for ya' to learn."
I had been formulating that strike plan ever since I saw their dossiers. You need to play off the strengths of each member, and I could see they agreed. We headed down to the bay and spent the next several hours preparing our mechs for the mission. Weapons had to be cleaned, loaded, calibrated, sensors checked, etc., etc. I was lying on a creeper and had my hands and face buried deep in Eltanin's left foot myomer bundle when a shadow fell over me.
"Thank you for what you said, Vance." I kicked my wheeled truck out a meter and looked up into the face of Leftenant Rinaldi. Seems someone made a good first impression on the merc mechprincess.
"No problem Leftenant, I reviewed the black box battle log, I know what happened." I rolled sideways to my feet and faced her. I removed my cigarette and watched her closely.
"Call me Sara, please. Come on, what do you really think about it, I can take it. Where did I go wrong on that one?" She looked insistent and vulnerable, and I found it alluring.
"Alright Sara, your primary mistake was not working closely enough with Echo Lance to provide fire support. That's a mistake I've addressed," I said as I motioned to Cadence across the bay talking to Leftenant Paula "Huntress" Jalastar. "But your primary success was getting your wounded out alive under enemy fire." She nodded and absorbed it. I looked to her mech.
"That's a nice Hawk you have there. It suits you. Deadly grace and beauty." She looked up, her eyes shot fire and her face reddened. I could tell she wanted to hit me, but she turned and stormed off. Too much I guess. She called over her shoulder as I watched her form stomp off.
"So hotshot, does your Dragon smoke too?" Slag. Well forget it, who can figure out women anyway? I heard giggling and glanced up at Solaria, who flashed me a thumbs-up from her Griffin's shoulder mounted missile rack. I smiled and shook my head in response. Women.
The next few days were a flurry as I spent every available moment training in the simulators with my mechwarriors, learning their fighting styles, strengths and weaknesses. My original observations turned out to be accurate, as Zanshin always went straight for the direct attack and Solaria hung back and double-teamed targets with me, always in a support role. Cadence was the surprise though, as he was deft and nimble, appearing suddenly to deliver a strike or drop a NARC beacon on some unsuspecting fool and then disappearing just as suddenly back into the background clutter. He reminded me so much of my old fencing instructor that it was uncanny. A feint, a precision strike, then a rapid disengage.
Finally the day arrived that we began our descent towards the planet Eaton. We were strapped into our mechs so we could deploy immediately and I was powered up and ready to go. The comm crackled.
"This is Captain Siampa, Eagle lance we are 17 seconds from the atmosphere, you are cleared for launch and escort," announced Alvaria. Kith and Alicia's fighters in the bays weren't in our line of sight but we heard their launch and I followed their progress from the command computer.
"This is Dreadnaught, I'm detecting a flight of heavies coming up to meet us. Peregine, take the Reaver." The aerotechs were loyalist rebels, and Kith and Alicia engaged them right on the fringe of space. It was hard to follow the dogfight amidst the twisted maze of missile contrails and armor debris, lasers cutting into and out of the furball. Kith "Dreadnaught" Sivar was an ace, slicing two of the aerotechs into pieces with his PPCs. Alicia "Peregrine" Breckinridge took one down and the cannons on the dropship got the last one in a spectacular fireball. Then we hit the atmosphere and it buffeted our ship roughly, while the fighter-escorts sliced through effortlessly seeking targets like hungry barracuda.
"ETA on planet is forty seconds. Bravo and Echo lances prepare to deploy. We have confirmed contact of two lances of mechs in the immediate LZ, bearing 185 and 117," noted the Colonel. I keyed my mic and responded.
"Copy that command, we have the targets identified. We will engage at navpoint epsilon." I logged the new navpoint into the command computer and set a navpoint for Echo Lance further back as well. The ship slowed and I felt regular gravity, and suddenly the shock of touchdown rattled the ship, scattering light equipment and tools about the mech bay. Our mech harnesses released and I was the first to step forward, guiding my massive war machine towards the opening mech bay door and it's reinforced ramp.
"Alright Bravo, they ain't paying us by the hour, lets move out." I received affirmatives in triplicate as I walked down the still-moving ramp and leapt my mech to the cracked mud of the salt flat with a resounding crash. The desert sun burned down on Eltanin with an ominous red glow. This system's star was a deep red and the whole landscape seemed to be awash in blood.
Paired bluish beams streaked past me and struck the dropship. The Poseidon's cannons barked in answer. I broke Eltanin into a run at an acute angle to the attackers: A pair of Uziels. My lance formed up behind me as I designated targets for them and broke into a wide grin. Using Uziels at short range melee? These clowns didn't know PPCs from SRMs.
Solaria and I cut west as Zanshin drove straight in towards them. He seemed possessed of a sixth sense as he weaved and bobbed his mech, dodging the PPC blasts as the range decreased. Cadence's Raven danced out from behind a hill and planted a NARC beacon on the second Uziel, a clear homing signal for our rockets to follow. A roar at my side let me know Solaria had joined the fight, lofting in a full flight of LRMs to strike the rearward Uziel full in the chest. It reeled under the attack as I brought my weapons to bear. I heard the soft pleasing tone of a weapons lock in my right earpiece and salvoed off my LRM-15. Fifteen more rockets on top of Solaria's twenty peppered the rear Uziel in the chest.
The air cracked and rent as Solaria and I fired our PPCs, striking the Uziel twice and severing its shoulder. It lagged behind its comrade, who hadn't noticed and drove mindlessly for Zanshin. Always shoot the straggler first, I thought, and grinned. Suddenly from the sky a hail of rockets engulfed the second Uziel, which disappeared in a cloud of smoke. I caught sight of Dreadnaught and Peregrine as they blasted by overhead at more than 1000 KPH, turning a tight barrel roll in tandem.
"Nice assist Eagle, one mech down. Concentrate fire now Bravo." But my command was in vain, as Zanshin brought his mech the last few steps towards his quarry, firing bursts with his autocannon in distraction. The Uziel tried to back up to recharge its PPCs, but his fate was sealed. The Hatchetman reached far back and swung the axe with great rage, completely severing the head and cockpit from the hapless Uziel. The body collapsed to the ground and the pilot's ejection seat floated to earth on a parachute. The Colonel came on the comm and I noted his position to the south, the four Alpha mechs accompanying a convoy of light vehicles.
"Excellent work Bravo. We have a full lance inbound from the West. Take 'em. We'll get the royals out on these APCs. Keep them away from the dropship," he ordered.
"Roger that, Alpha Leader," I replied. "Bravo, head to nav epsilon. Cadence, engage your ECM and find a good spot to paint them for Huntress. Echo Lance stand by for target acquisition."
Cadence's Raven sped down the flats and ran behind some dunes. Solaria and I slowed to cruising speed as Zanshin moved ahead at flank speed. I checked the grid and saw Huntress's Catapult in position 700m to the North. My tac-grid came to life as the enemy mechs appeared on scope. I watched the rangefinder count down to 1000m and targeted the leader, a Locust that was closing fast. Solaria and I opened up with the LRMs. The Locust tried to weave but was mauled by the dozens of rocket hits and nearly lost its balance. Then we fired our PPCs, Solaria striking it in the leg and cutting it's knee cleanly from it's body, and my shot striking the dune just behind it, leaving a puddle of molten glass. The Locust pitched face forward and slammed into the ground.
A brilliant red laser beam cut through the air and stitched a deep line in my right torso. I fought to keep the mech aligned. The second mech, a Wolfhound, was within maximum range of his weapon systems and the Centurion and Hunchback were not far behind him. Solaria and I fired again, and Zanshin who was closer opened up with his autocannon. The beams, rockets, and shells tossed the fragile Wolfhound around like a puppy in a hurricane and the fusion core imploded with a powerful shockwave, leaving a smoking blackened crater on the flats. Rockets and autocannon rounds from the Centurion's arm mounted Luxor gun and missile rack began striking Zanshin, who absorbed the heavy damage and jinked Northwest, heading for a dune. Luckily the Hunchback's massive gun was still out of range. Solaria continued to blast the Centurion who was intent on Zanshin as I checked the combat grid. Any moment now…there… within range.
"Cadence, drop the hammer." The miniscule Raven crested the hill and popped off a NARC beacon, which latched firmly onto the Centurion, then fired his TAG laser at the Hunchback. The Raven, with its small signature and ECM, was undetected.
I heard a hollow, deep rumbling on my external mic and then a high pitched scream. Huntress had fired her Arrow-IV. The giant artillery missile cruised in, gaining speed and momentum as it sought the TAG laser reticle with the relentless abandon of a kamikaze bloodhound. The Hunchback realized his error but it was too late as the Arrow-IV missile struck him full in the chest with all the fury and might of a thundergod. The concussion knocked the mech flat on its back, smoke pouring from the gaping hole. The Centurion was thrown foreward, and Solaria and I launched a full flight of LRMs, now homing in directly on Cadence's NARC beacon. The impacts threw it backwards into the sand dune amidst the smoke and debris.
Cadence's TAG flashed again, and Huntress fired another Arrow, the ominous unavoidable siren scream sounding a deathknell for the downed loyalists, who were struggling to rise. The Arrow struck directly between them, blowing their tattered mechs apart, and the massive mushroom clouds stretched lazily towards the crimson sky.
"Good work team. Drinks are on me tonight. Alpha Leader, this is Leftenant Strovski, all hostiles neutralized here." I ran my tac-grid over to the palace and assessed the situation.
"Copy that Bravo Leader. We have the royals on board and are heading out now for the Poseidon. Estimated time of arrival, seven minutes." I nodded to myself then froze. I hadn't noticed it immediately, but the tac-grid was showing a lance closing on an intercept route just outside of their sensor range. Scrap and double scrap. I keyed the mic.
"Colonel! I have four confirmed enemy contacts closing to intercept! Do you copy?"
"Confirmed! Good work Bravo, pince them from the Northeast, come in on bearing two-one-niner." We were already moving at top speed. "I'll babysit the convoy, Alpha you are clear to engage, weapons free." I watched the grid as Sara's Phoenix Hawk, Terrence's Shadow Hawk, and Kellie Orion's Thunderbolt moved to engage. We would be last into the fray. Cadence's Raven was far ahead and already spotting with his NARC. Lasers criss-crossed the circling giants as they dueled and jockeyed for position. One was already down, three to go.
Solaria and I fired at the mighty Atlas. It was the largest and most threatening mech around. Our rockets and PPCs deepened it's battle scars, but Atlases have thick hides. Then Sara's Phoenix Hawk soared through the air on her jump jets and smashed feet-first into the Atlas's chest and face, knocking the 100-ton behemoth onto it's back with a thunderous crash that shook the earth. Sara also fell to the ground beside the giant and struggled to rise. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of Terrance and Kellie ripping a Crusader to pieces while it fired missiles at point-black range. Just then the enemy Crusader blew apart in a flash of blinding light as his ammo bins cooked off.
"Get the Warhammer! He's broken free!" shouted Solaria as the last enemy mech closed in on our convoy of royals. Kellie, Solaria and Terrance pursued as I suddenly found myself face to face with the Atlas which was struggling to it's feet. My rockets shook the Atlas and blew pieces of armor and structure off the massive machine but it rose as steadily as a cyberzombie and lowered its weapons at Sara's fleeing Hawk. Laser energy poured forth, and Sara's mech was spun around, the powerful hit blowing her right arm off. The lasers then cut her hip joint free and she crashed to the ground with smoke, coolant, and oily fluid pouring from her machine. I interposed Eltanin between Sara and the Atlas. The machine towered over me with what seemed to be an annoyed expression as I stood between him and his downed quarry. I heard Sara groan painfully into her comm. He was twice my size, but damaged. He vented so much heat that the air shimmered between he and I. The furious, immolated demon and I stood still and silent for a moment as the desert wind spread the bitter, acrid smoke from our conflict into the sky.
He twitched first, bringing his right arm to bear as his torso twisted left. My sensei at the academy who had taught me Kung-fu always told me to watch the shoulders for the telegraph of intent. I was ready and the old reflexes kicked in as I stepped inside of his arm and grabbed it with both of my own. His lasers discharged uselessly and brightly just meters from my cockpit transparisteel as I stepped in and planted my left foot solidly on his. I brought my rear leg up and delivered a thrust kick to his chest as the lasers continued to fire. I heard the wrenching wail of metal tearing and buckling. He fell away from me and as the grinding howl intensified I suddenly lurched backwards. With another resounding crash the Atlas had slammed to the ground. I still held his arm in my hands and his foot under mine. They had both been ripped free of the damaged monstrosity. I breathed a sigh of relief then gasped…He raised his left arm to fire at me, and out of nowhere Zanshin's hatchetman brought his hatchet down with full force onto the Atlas's cockpit, crushing it completely.
"Sara? You alright?" I walked over to her downed mech and crouched to look. Suddenly horror overtook me as I realized the Atlas hadn't been firing uselessly with his right arm after all. The cockpit of Sara's mech was melted and scored. The comm was lifeless.
I popped my cockpit seal and leapt to the ground heavily, feeling a pain in my ankle from the jump. Running to her cockpit I broke the seal and peered inside. It was a mess. Melted circuitry and consoles filled the air with a foul smell. I crawled in and found her strapped securely into her seat, her hair matted wet with blood and sweat and her eyes closed. I drew my vibroshiv and cut the restraints, freeing her body from the chair. I checked her pulse… barely there. Replacing my knife I gingerly lifted her form from the cockpit and brought her into the blood-red light of Eaton's star.
"I guess… my mech… is the one that smokes…" she whispered.
She held on tightly as I carried her back to my mech. Zanshin's mech crouched and offered a hand, which I stepped on and he lifted me to my cockpit. I set course for Poseidon.
We got the royals back to the ship and sent salvage teams out to recover the mechs and their parts. I handed my mech off to a tech and carried Sarasvati to the medical room. She was burned pretty badly in some places but I'd seen worse before. As I helped the doctor administer anesthetic and burn salve I was relieved to notice her beautiful face hadn't been scarred. Although she was missing most of her curls, I was just glad she was alive. She didn't say anything but kept her eyes on me the whole time. She didn't have to say thanks, because the look in her eyes was enough.
The mission had started rough, but I felt relieved that it was going to get easier. That was my first mistake. I should have known better than to assume they really were the idiots they made themselves out to be. We all fell for their ruse, and the next four weeks we would learn the age old concept that war is waged, above all else, by deception…