[CHAPTER 4 – "The Arrogant King is Checked": Eaton: At the Enemy Airfield, April, 3061]
The sentry paced the ground near the security checkpoint in the deep darkness of the cold desert night. His position was illuminated briefly by a passing vehicle and he shielded his eyes from the glare. Just then his headpiece beeped his fifteen minute reminder. He slung his rifle and reached to his boom-mic.
"This is Tyran, checking in, all clear at the east SC."
He heard a brief acknowledgement then reached to his side pouch, then paused as he heard another vehicle approach and waited for it to pass. He then glanced around furtively and snuck a silvery flask out of his pouch and took a swig of the rich liquor it contained. The man smacked his lips and moved to recap the vial when he heard a noise behind him and quickly moved to conceal his alcohol.
Zanshin wrapped his gigantic hands in front of the man's neck and on top of his head and locked his left tightly on his right elbow while he lifted the man off the ground. The guard fought and struggled to release himself, sputtering up the liquor he had just imbibed, soon unable to breathe at all. His legs kicked wildly as Zanshin put pressure on the man's windpipe and carotid artery, and within seconds, he was out cold.
Zanshin drug the man back to our hiding position from which we had observed him pacing, checking in and drinking his alcohol for nearly 40 minutes. We stripped him of his passkey and comm equipment, which Kith donned. Now that we knew his name, we could check in for him if needed. However, we were hoping to be long gone in 15 minutes. I swiped the man's nose with chloroform to ensure his unconsciousness and we moved towards the checkpoint to the airfield.
The field was intended for civilian use, but the rebels had landed a Leopard-class dropship in the middle of the main strip, rendering it useless to fixed-wing aircraft. The concrete was scored heavily from the blast of the Leopard's fusion engine and retrorockets, leaving a wide blackened area surrounding the ship. The main dropship hold was closed and there was no easy way into the vessel that we could see. It was powered down, of course, and whatever contingent of mechs might have come with it were nowhere in sight right now. The only way to get in would be to get them to open a hatch, and something told me they weren't going to fall for the old singing telegram trick.
So we swiped the security station with the passkey we borrowed from the guard and the gate swung inward to admit us. We sprinted inside and out of the light along the perimeter fence, which was electrified and topped with monofilament wire. It was dangerous, nasty stuff that left deep cuts if you even brushed it lightly and was often issued as a garrote to special forces groups in the former Free Rasalhague Republic. We ran in a stealthy crouch towards the tower in the distance. If we could get on the tower communications equipment, we could perhaps convince the dropship to open a hatch. That had been Solaria's suggestion, and I acquiesced, but had a plan of my own.
I switched the channel on my comm gear to the prearranged frequency. I gave a rapid series of signals on the unit in code and heard a response clicked back. It was amazing that as simple a code as the Morse system had persisted from the ancient Terran military well beyond the millennium in which it was devised. It was possible that my mechwarriors knew Morse code, and in fact very likely with a veteran like Kith, but no one had noticied me tap out my signal to my contact.
We reached the side of the primary hangar, not a hundred meters from the tower and I motioned for us to skirt the hangar. I stole a glance upwards at the massive structure and the huge doors on the north face we were pressed against. Breaking into a run, we began the long trek around the hangar, which abutted the fenceline closely. We moved quietly, like feral jungle animals that are neither seen nor heard. Yet we were detected all the same, as I knew we would be. As we passed the second of the three great doors on the hangar a great steaming hiss rent the air, bringing us all to a halt.
The hydraulic arms on the doors now churned and the three hangar bays ground open simultaneously, drawing in a rush of cool night air and spilling out bright amber artificial lighting. The metallic rasping of the doors moving upwards in their tracks was loud enough to prevent any communication between me and my team.
We spun to face inward, caught in the middle of the doorway and directly in the light, as inside a team of infantry scattered around a pair of tracked vehicles with heavy cannons mounted on their topside turrets all tracked their eyes and sights to the interlopers before them. They underestimated, however, the reflexes of the mechwarriors, which were exceptional by any standard, and far more attuned when in a combat situation.
Kith Sivar was the first one to act. With blinding speed he burst into a full sprint for the doorframe and leveled his Zeus rifle at the opponents. With a sharp crack the Zeus rang out and smote the captain of the westward tracked vehicle, who was sitting atop his mount and holding a bullhorn with his right hand. His body was punctured and thrown backward clear off behind his vehicle. A split second later Zanshin had opened fire with his assault cannon as he ran away from the door at an angle with a northwest heading. His cannon lit up the night with bright flashes and filled the air with flying lead and casings. A trio of infantryman in front of the second vehicle were thrown back roughly by the chattering onslaught of Zanshin's weapon, and I knew they were dead, even with the body armor they wore.
I burst east at the same time while drawing my unsilenced pistol and just then the infantrymen began to react, filling the air with deadly slugs, shot, and flechettes. Solaria had pulled a grenade and tossed it in backhandedly as she ran my direction, the blast sending infantryman to the floor as the rest scattered for deeper cover. Their ambush had gone horribly wrong, but so had our approach. Or so my team thought.
Then the tide turned. We had just reached the cover of the opposite sides of the hangar doorframe when out of the two flanking doors strode a pair of Wasps, one to the west of us, and one to the east. They were light, agile mechs, with low technology levels, paper-thin armor, pitiful weaponry loadouts, and slipshod sensor systems. However weak they were on the battlefield, to a warrior on foot, they were a nearly insurmountable opponent, and they knew it. The external speakers on the eastern one bellowed loudly at us.
"HALT! GIVE UP NOW OR YOU WILL BE KILLED!"
Of all our weapons, only Zanshin's cannon could really make any dent whatsoever in even the eggshell armor of the Wasps, and he wouldn't be able to do critical damage to them before they could kill us all, and we all knew it. I put up my hands and shouted a response as I tossed away my pistol.
"WE SURRENDER!"
I looked back and Zanshin and Kith both held their weapons a moment then tossed them to the ground and placed their hands on their heads. We stood for a moment waiting and I noticed Solaria was bleeding all over her right shoulder and upper arm, mingling with the sweat and tattoos underneath as the blood ran down her side. She was breathing in short gasps and her eyes were wide as she looked at me with abject fear and uncertainty in her eyes.
Before I could ask her anything, the infantry rushed out of the hangar and tackled us, pinning us all to the ground cruelly. I felt a knee dig into my back as my hands were twisted into bindings and locked securely in place. My nose was smashed against the ground and my left cheek was skinned raw on the cold concrete as I shut my right eye to the bright light shining down directly on me, probably the mechs' searchlight. I was patted down and my comm gear seized. I was hauled roughly to my feet and spat the grit from my mouth and blood from my lip with an evil grin on my face. They hadn't found my concealed pouch with its silenced pistol. These rebels were very bad at fighting, and they would continue to pay for it as long as I drew breath.
I looked around and the infantrymen were all around us, with rifles and pistols at the ready. Of the twenty-eight man platoon, a quick count only revealed twenty-one surrounding us. When you ambush four mechwarriors, you better be damn sure you do it right. I forced myself to stop smiling about it before I invited a rifle butt to my already bleeding cheek and looking around, I identified their leader.
He was busily barking orders to troopers securing Zanshin, not a small task, and seemed to assume that Zanshin was the leader. I mentally noted his mistake and decided not to correct him. The infantry did it for me anyway a brief moment later when he handed the officer my comm gear and pointed towards me. The man strode over to me and without any warning kicked me behind the knee, dropping me to the ground. I instinctively rolled on my shoulder to absorb the worst of it, since I didn't have the option of catching myself on my forearms, with my hands bound behind my back as they were. He delivered one kick to my stomach as I lay there, which didn't hurt much with my flak vest on, but I decided to pretend that it had hurt and rolled away from him curled into a ball.
"Kulaski, take them to the brig, the Captain wants to interrogate them," he said and strode off, obviously quite pleased with himself. He started issuing more orders to tend to the dead and dying as a troop of four came over and picked me up. We were rounded up into a single file line and marched straight towards the dropship. Most of our gear was tossed into a duffel and handed to the Sergeant, who led the way.
Behind us, I caught a glimpse of one of them claiming Zanshin's cannon as we walked off at gunpoint. The heated arguments about the remaining plunder continued until we were out of hearing range a few minutes later. The looming shadow of the dropship was now before us. Leopard dropships are fairly graceful and aerodynamic, as far as dropships go, and were the most common military ship in existence. They carried up to four mechs and two fighters, but of course many had been modified heavily. This one had not been modified much, if the exterior was any indication. This meant that I had a pretty good idea of the layout of the ship before I even entered it.
We approached the ship and the front hatch was opened to us, dim light from inside illuminating the doorway for us. They herded us in and down the main spine corridor of the ship. If memory serves, the brig should be right… here. Sure enough, they opened up the cells and I caught brief looks from each warrior as they were canned. From Solaria, terror, from Zanshin, barely contained rage, and from Kith, a smug sly grin. I didn't doubt he had escaped from many prisons before, given his extensive battle history. Still, something about that grin troubled me.
Then I was shoved into my cell, tripping over my cot and bruising my knee on the frame as I fell onto it. The door slammed shut behind me and the hatch was locked. I rolled over and sat up. They had taken my lighter and cigarrettes. DAMN. Of course, lighting one would have been problematic anyway. But I had two very good cards left to play, and my opponent didn't know what I had in mind.
About twenty minutes later my door creaked and clunked open, admitting the Sergeant. He carried a laser pistol and trained it on me immediately. He removed his thick cigar with the other and blew a puff in my face before speaking.
"So answer this to me, and do it quick, what were you doing last night?" The pass phrase. I struggled to recall the correct response and it quickly came to me.
"Chasing the stars from Outreach, and bringing them down to earth."
"Which stars?" he immediately asked.
"Eta Leonis, Beta Orionis, and Rastaban." He grunted and holstered the laser pistol. He seemed surprised and replaced the cigar, talking out of the side of his mouth while chewing the end of it.
"All right Vance, the Captain will see you now. Let's get those binders off. No need to keep pretending, you've been damn convincing enough. I lost six men to you and yours."
"That wasn't my fault," I replied "you should have had your men under better cover, that fool of a tankdriver was just sitting in the open with the bullhorn. He deserved what he got for his carelessness." It was true. The ambush was supposed to have been bloodless, but the careless infantry learned a lesson about taking on mechwarriors tonight, and learned it the hard way.
"Shut it. Just follow me." He turned and led the way out of the cell block back down the fuselage of the ship to the officer's quarters. I mentally noted my path and which cells had housed my mechwarriors as I followed the rebel to the Captain's quarters. He opened the door and motioned for me to enter, catching me by the shoulder on my way in to softly threaten with low voice and grim eyes.
"Next time I'm not gonna take you alive. So you better do your job right and finish it this time and get off planet before I start feeling less charitable. I don't like double-agents, and if you don't deliver, I'll kill you myself." I pushed past him and shut the door behind me.
The office was well lit, comparatively, and accompanied by an adjoining stateroom for the ship's Captain. Elegant mahogany furnitive, bolted securely and hinged to the aft wall of course, and thick plush carpeting on all walls gave the room a luxurious feel. The desk was uncluttered, with a single terminal recessed into it and a bottle of Steiner ale and a pair of glasses accompanied it. The high-backed chair faced away from me. Another was placed across the desk opposite it.
"Sit down Vance," came the voice from the chair as he spun to face me "and please, have a drink and a cigar." The chair completed its turn and, as expected, the self appointed Baron Fortunada grinned across the desk at me. I gave a slight formal court bow and took the seat. I graciously accepted the cigar he proffered and poured the drinks as well. He spoke first.
"Well, I was beginning to wonder when I'd hear from you, or if at all. Another of my agents onboard the dropship dropped off contact recently and I wondered if he had perhaps blown your cover as well." Yes, that would be the infantryman I shot this afternoon, so he won't be giving you any more information. I tried not to smirk, and succeeded.
"I'm curious to hear your explanation for your rather inadequate services thus far." He let hang that subtle threat in the air, and then the man took his drink and sniffed it like strutting peacock who thought it was beneath him to have to consume anything at all. The Baron was middle aged and slightly overweight from his years of excess on this planet. He had been a mechwarrior once, as many royal heirs, and he was well-muscled underneath his layer of insulation. Fierce brown eyes under bushy eyebrows pierced my own, as he stroked his rather flamboyant moustache with his left hand. He wore a military uniform that I could not identify, but looked like it was ancient Terran in origin, possibly European. It was deep blue with gold trim and epaulettes, fitted with a gold and silver sash and it was adorned garishly with medals of great diversity.
"Well sir, I have gathered a great deal of information for you to act on, and it will certainly deliver the Grenadiers into your hands. However, in my lance I was assigned a mechwarrior who is a genius at communications intercepts and decryption, and I didn't dare blow my cover by risking a communiqué with him around. I set him busy distracting one of your patrols northwest of here and brought the rest of Bravo lance with me. So I've managed to take away half of the strength of the company and with the information I will give you now, you'll be able to put the rest of them away for good." I lied to him blatantly, but it was the kind of lie a preening bird like him would want to hear. I wasn't sure if he was starved for attention, megalomaniacal, or just plain gullible. He broke into a wide smile and raised his glass to me. His gold teeth gleamed in the artificial light.
"Ah, so now I understand your clever plan with the ambush and capture of your team. It was to rob them of several good mechs that might have been used in defense of the command ship. Excellent work my good man. You however, seem to have one extra mechwarrior, by my count. If one is distracted, and three are here, then that is surely one more than most lances carry." He acted as if he had caught me lying, and I was lying, but he hadn't caught the real lie. I needed to be more careful, because he certainly did not trust me.
"Well sir, the shorter of the two men is their primary aerospace pilot, and his fighter is a custom LAM. I know it sounds unbelievable, but if you check the records of our descent you'll see that he flies a fighter of unknown design. So this will work out even more to your advantage, as their primary air-defense warrior is currently in your brig." I grinned and lit the cigar, tasting the rich aroma as my opponent across from me laughed a deep, malicious laugh.
"Vance, you are truly a rogue. I admire your style though. And now I ask for the information that will deliver them into my hands, give it to me and I will pay you right here and now. I have a direct uplink to the HPG already established. The three million we agreed upon at Outreach can be yours within the hour, if you seal your end of the bargain now." Paydirt. I had memorized the coordinates on the way and instructed the Baron to have his satelite scan the region where the dropship was currently located. We found it on the display and marked it clearly. I then told him about the firebase hit by Alpha, and the secondary rendezvous point Nav Eta. He was very pleased and we were soon discussing tactics and I was playing along rather nicely, egging him on envisioning the destruction of the Grenadiers. Really, though, he needed little prodding.
"Well sir, if you're convinced that I've done my job, I would very much appreciate payment, and the chance to get back to my mech and off this rock. I still have one loose end to tie up with my last mechwarrior. But he won't be expecting the attack, and I'll kill him easily. The dropship will be vulnerable for as long as sixteen more hours. So, shall we complete the business transaction?" I tried not to appear too demanding, but instead emulate the aristocratic and politic manner of speech he had been using. Luckily, he was now trusting me completely. I was fortunate indeed that he did not connect my last name, Strovski, to the bodyguard list of the royal family, where he might have seen Gregor Strovski, KIA. If he had known that fact, he might have been more prepared for what I would do next.
"Of course my friend! You have lived up to your promise and been more helpful than I ever dreamed and I will be rewarded for hiring you. Soon this planet will be ours and the royal family will be my personal slaves, and truly, no sum of money is too small to have a Duke and Duchess cleaning your house for you, hai?" I found the comment genuinely funny, if not demented in the extreme, and chuckled.
"In fact, come and watch me perform the transaction, so that you may have no doubt of the validity. For I hope to utilize your exceptional skills sometime again in the future." I rose and stood on the right of his chair as he accessed the account and performed the transfer request. In my right I held my glass, but my left was behind his chair, and I reached to my rear concealed pouch slowly. I slurped my ale as I unzipped it just enough to withdraw my pistol. The Baron was busily typing in the command and I flicked off the safety as I watched the HPG confirmation come back. My account balance, 3,042,500 C-bills. I was now filthy stinking rich, and only two people in the galaxy knew about it, myself and the unsuspecting victim beside me. The platoon leader who I had killed earlier in the day would have known too. My elation and rage had suddenly peaked, and my medipack shot me up with adrenals as my pulse raced.
"Thank you sir, but I regret to inform you there is one debt left to pay, as you killed my brother in your uprising a month ago." I kicked his chair to the side and he was flung to face me with a look of shock wide on his face. In the moment of dawning comprehension my sidearm spat twice rapidly with a high-pitched puffing sound. The slugs caught him point-blank in the chest and buried deeply into his body, his uniform now wetted darkly with his blood, and a thin ribbon of crimson trailing down the silver sash. He eyes blinked up at me as his mouth opened, but no sound came out, and he died staring up at me, still shocked by the sudden violence of the attack.
I switched the gun to my right hand and turned to the monitor. Covering my tracks wouldn't be easy, but it was made somewhat easier by the fact that I was already using the Baron's security levels. It took me almost five agonizing, vulnerable minutes before I cleared the database of all data, reset the system, and locked the ship down. With all the doors locked tight, no reinforcements were coming anytime soon.
I pulled the chair with the body of the Baron back to the terminal, and faced it to the wall, opting to leave his eyes unclosed. I heard a noise in the corridor and shuffled to the far wall, flicking on my laser sight and drawing a bead on the door.
The hatch was opened inward and the Sergeant leaned inward, leaving his right hand on the doorframe and supporting his weight on his left as he peeked in and started to speak.
"Sir I just noticed that…" My pistol chirped and the round caught the Sergeant directly in the forehead, covering the bulkhead with his blood. His body collapsed halfway into the room as I leapt over him into the corridor with the pistol held in both hands at the ready.
A startled soldier just behind his fallen Sergeant was fumbling for his laser pistol when I put the laser reticle on his right eye. He froze in place and opened his hands upward, as still as a statue. Feeling merciful, I took the laser off his eye and motioned to turn around with my left hand, and also then motioned a 'sshhh' and a shooting motion. He got the idea and turned around slowly. I withdrew my chloroform and pressed my pistol into the small of his back. I reached around and placed the cloth on his nose until he slumped to the floor in a heap. I drug him and the Sergeant back into the officer's quarters. I pulled the passkey off the Sergeant and stripped him of the duffel on his back with the bulk of our gear. I donned my communication gear and set it back to my lance frequency.
Now I stripped the two of them of their laser pistols and put them into my second concealed holster and my thigh holster. Finally I tied the unconscious man securely and exited the room, shutting the door behind me as I slung the duffel over my back.
It was a short trip back to the brig hallway, but I took my time and checked carefully for sentries, moving slowly and stealthily and listening for long periods of time without moving. Eventually though, I came to the brig along the main passageway and opened the first and closest door as quietly as I could.
Inside on the bunk Solaria was hugging her knees to her chest with her face buried. The white cot was stained red in a few places from her bloody wounds. She had taken a hit to the shoulder, probably with flechette ammunition, in the ambush and it looked very painful. The dried blood had hardened and marred the pattern of her tattoo. Her head snapped up to look at me. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face was weary and resigned, but suddenly shot with hope as her eyes widened. She started for me with a gleeful cry but I motioned for silence and moved to undo her bindings. Pocketing them, I handed her one of the laser pistols, which she took with her left hand as her right hung limply at her side. Questions and more questions glimmered in her eyes but I smiled grimly and motioned to follow. Answers would wait, and real answers would never actually be given, though the poor girl deserved better. I certainly did not deserve the gratitude and adoration she was showering on me with her eyes right now. But if I played my part correctly, she would never know that.
Zanshin's cell was next. I opened the door and saw him in the corner, waiting for just such an opportunity. He started, as if to spring on me, but stopped dumbfounded as he recognized my face and a broad smile crept over his face as he glanced at me and Solaria, who was also beaming. Somehow he had gotten his hands to the front and I removed his binders as well. I again motioned for silence and opened Kith's door. He was leaning against the wall, his binders lying on the bed next to him, and as he shot me a puzzled expression we all piled into his room to have a very brief tactical meeting.
"Okay, let's do this quickly. The captain and sergeant are dead, and one sentry is unconscious. Zanshin, you and Solaria will guard the corridor and take rear guard, stay five to ten meters behind us and cover us. Kith, you and I need to get on the bridge and power this thing up. We can finish sweeping the ship once we get airborne. Here's most of your gear," I said, as I set the duffel on the edge of the cot "minus the few weapons we lost out there, but it could have been a lot worse. Accidentally, we gained through defeat the one thing we needed, entrance to the dropship. Now it's ours, and I intend to take it while we still can."
They were all still too stunned to do anything but nod in ascent. At this point, they probably were regarding me highly, and I hoped that they would never discover what had really given me the edge over our foes. That meeting on Outreach, just before I went to David Grenadine, had been the most spiteful thing I had ever done. To sign up as a double agent for rebels who had killed my brother was dirty, even for a mercenary. To then betray even them was a new low. The price was right, and someone would have done it if not me, but this way was oh-so-poetic. They were felled by their own treachery, and I profited handsomely off it, both monetarily and in reputation within my new unit. I was getting paid to fight both sides of the same war, and paid very handsomely. Now I had chosen a side. Really though, fate had chosen my side. I couldn't have betrayed the Colonel and Sara to these upstarts. My thick skin I had always prided myself on was weakening, and the men and women under my command were winning my respect and friendship. I couldn't destroy as noble and virtuous a unit as the Grenadiers. For mercenaries, they understood the warrior's code better than nearly any house lord's personal bodyguard, and that was something else I respected.
We exited the cellblock and progressed to the fore of the mighty ship of war. We got a chance to practice good small-unit tactics as we did so, slicing the angles into each room we passed and covering each other properly. Most mechwarriors made excellent infantry, when the need arose, and our academy training came back alive as we progressed through the corridor and up a short angle up to the bridge.
I produced the security card and swiped the scanner, and the bridge door cycled open to admit us. One man was present, sitting at the yoke of the starship and using his right hand to navigate holographic readouts and turned to look over his shoulder when we strode onto the deck.
On the bridge of a Leopard the layout is awkward, as 'down' in normal gravity is not 'down' when the ship is under acceleration. Like most rooms on a Leopard, the room was set up as to have two axis of gravity. For example, the cots in the brig were on a reversible axis on the aft wall, and could be flipped in such a way as to support a prisoner when 'down' became to the rear of the ship, where the massive fusion thrusters mounted aft propelled the craft through space. Here in the bridge, the piloting seats, which sat facing foreward when the ship was in the atmosphere, could be pitched forward along with all displays and consoles, for when the craft exited the planetary gravity well. The deck dropped off sharply straight down, and a second command deck at the proper second orientation was there. Thus it was a ladder from planetside deck that Kith and I walked horizontally on foreward, or 'up', to his position as he swiveled to face us.
"Don't touch anything, or you'll touch nothing ever again." Threatened Kith as I targeted him with my pistol. His eyes flicked briefly to his sidearm then he slumped resignedly. I handed Kith the cloth.
"You won't be harmed, so just cooperate." I commanded as Kith placed the cloth over the man's mouth. The mixture was weakened considerably by now and it took sixteen seconds before the man passed out. Kith removed him and handed him to me. I set him to the floor and attached the binders.
"All right Kith, power this up and get the weapons ready in case they notice and bring those mechs to bear. I'm gonna go help sweep the rest of the ship with Zanshin and Solaria. How long till we can be airborne?" I asked, as I finally got the chance to pull a cigarette and I quickly lit up while he answered.
"At most, maybe fifteen minutes. I'll be able to take care of those small mechs if needed, provided I can get the systems online before they detect our powerup."
"Alright. Do it. I'll be back as soon as I can."
I passed back to the corridor and shut the door behind me. Solaria and Zanshin waited, with their pistols aimed down the passageway. I motioned for them to form up and we systematically swept the ship then, and finding no one we were soon back on the bridge with Kith. I had made a brief stop in the Captain's quarters to attach a binding on the unconscious soldier there. Solaria and Zanshin were a little shell-shocked over the two dead men in that room that I had shot. Solaria had ventured around to check the Captain's stateroom and upon returning had gotten a good look at the dead Baron, eyes still staring, and she shuddered.
Back on the bridge Kith informed me of the progress. He risked a quick active sensor sweep and found a clear scope. The three of us waited on the command deck and dropped wearily into the command seats. I took the Captain's chair. Zanshin was examining Solaria's shoulder wound as I brought up the command interface. The controls were alien to me but I managed to bring up the display and get the tactical grid online.
"Dreadnaught, what's our ETD?" I asked.
"Three minutes, I'm bringing the drives up to full power now. If they haven't noticed us powering up already, they definitely will in a few seconds."
I brought up the comm system and switched to our lance frequency, it was unencrypted, but that couldn't be helped right now.
"Cadence, prepare for evac at prearranged location. ETA, twelve minutes."
If anyone was monitoring our frequency, they probably still wouldn't have gleaned much information out of that short blip. My attention was diverted as Solaria suddenly hissed with an intake of breath as Zanshin did his best to disinfect her shoulder wound. It'd need some minor surgery to remove those flechettes once we returned to the Poseidon.
Out of the front viewport the airport sprand to life suddenly, as all the lights went up and the spotlights focused on the dropship. A siren wailed and the APCs roared out of the hangars to intercept. Two additional contacts showed on our scope now, the pair of light mechs, and a laser beam flashed brightly, striking near the viewport just before Kith closed the blast shield, obstructing our view to the chaos we had created.
With a roar the primary engines came to life and shook the ship. I noticed Kith bring up the tactical screen and felt the dropship rock slightly to starboard as the portside weapons blisters opened up on one of the mechs. The recoil rattled the ship again and I could make out the scream of the rockets over the combined din of the battle and engines. On my tactical grid both mechs beat a hasty retreat behind some cover. Kith then focused his attention on the yoke, lifting the ship slowly off the ground.
Without warning, he opened up the throttle and the ship leapt forward, leaving the airfield behind. We bore westward and the massive vessel gained altitude ponderously, as the lift surfaces were not substantial. The last building before the exterior fence was approaching quickly and we breathed a sigh of relief as the nose cleared it, barely, then we cringed as the landing skids clipped the roof of the building with a horrific wrenching of aluminum and light building roofing. Considering the tonnage of the vessel, our damage was probably insignificant, but had we seen the building crumble behind us we probably would have burst into laughter.
The ship burned high into the night sky on blue plumes as the amazed townfolk stared out their windows, awoken by the roar of the fusion engines. Lasers and tracer fire tracked the ship as it gained altitude and turned northwest, the brilliant beams of green and crimson casting deep shadows in the dark night. Answering fire from the mighty ship reached down here and there with rockets, lasers and autocannon shells, fiercely raking the defenders with impact and heat. In a few short minutes, the craft was out of range, and the rebels scrambled to intercept the fleeing behemoth in mechs and vehicles. With their chain of command broken, however, their ranks were thrown into chaos and the pursuit was haphazard and disjointed.