Despite his fatigue, the acolyte knew he had a job to do as he walked towards the perimeter of the base camp. It would be almost morning very soon and he knew that everything must be in tip-top shape before their commanding officer returned or there would be recriminations to pay. He had only been recruited into the Blessed Order just over a year ago and he immediately volunteered for the Militias. He wanted to fight the enemies of Blake but so far, this was not what he had in mind.
The desert was a landscape of illusions. When the sun came up it would scorch you like the burning fires of hell but when nightfall came it would become very cold like the lathe of heaven. Several times when he looked out across the sands during the afternoon he would see mirages of water pools lying in the dunes as the air currents ebbed and flowed, visible through the ether. It was fortunate that his white robe was larger than usual and could double as a poncho over his military fatigues, combat harness and flak vest. At this time during the night, it helped to retain heat, as the once burning desert became a frigid, ice cold plain of nothingness.
After walking for several minutes, the acolyte finally came upon the portable motion sensor, one of dozens spread out along the perimeter to serve as an early warning detector. There was a minor sandstorm during the early evening and it played havoc with the sensor grids and each portable unit needed to be cleaned periodically or otherwise it would malfunction. He was roused from his nap by his squad leader and tasked to clean the device so that it would work properly again, just his luck.
Slinging his laser rifle over his shoulder, the acolyte sighed and took out a cleaning rag. This was really getting monotonous, he felt. The young soldier wondered why the LOM operators were allowed to sleep and not participate in the usual grunt work. He always felt jealous of them, these Special Forces veterans who never ever got to do the menial tasks that every soldier hated. Perhaps it was a privilege that they earned, the acolyte thought as he looked for any dirt on the sensor unit.
As he did a cursory examination of the sensor, the acolyte let out a cry of surprise. It seemed that someone had opened up the control panel and deactivated it during the sandstorm. As his sluggish mind began to race to the inevitable conclusion, he quickly began to pull out his communicator. Just as he was about to activate it, the young WOB infantryman felt a slap on his forehead and then nothing at all as he slumped forward, his brains staining the sandy floor.
Chifune Kishikawa scanned for other targets using her sniper scope. Since the Minolta 9000's sighting system had a light-intensifier capability, she could see the entire area as clear as day, though everything had a green tint to it. After surmising that everything was clear, Chifune gave a short hand-signal to her rear.
Almost immediately, ten figures that were hiding in a sandy dune got up and began to race silently towards the inner perimeter of the WOB base camp. When the Black Widow rendezvoused with the surviving group of delegates earlier during the day, she drew up a plan to strike back at the Blakists. It would be risky operation but it would buy the main group of delegates extra time whether it succeeded or not. There were no shortage of volunteers but Dominic Durant picked the ones that were best suited for the task. If successful, it might net them some much-needed transportation and perhaps even weapons as well.
The perimeter of the WOB base camp had floodlights that bathed the entire area, giving it some very bright illumination. In the center were the three grounded DropShips and their opened cargo bay doors. The strike team had waited until the majority of the 'Mechs and vehicles went out for their nightly patrols to try to find the delegates before disabling several perimeter sensors during a sandstorm. The ten-member team was mostly composed of bodyguards that had volunteered but Captain Janice De Llandes and her former ship's XO, Lieutenant John Shive, led them. Just before reaching the glare of the floodlights that signified the boundaries of the inner-perimeter, all ten men and women crouched down and waited for the diversion. Each team member was wearing a patched-up white robe with strange, mathematical symbols on it; they were sewn together from scraps of clothing in order to give them the illusion of being WOB members in case they were spotted.
John Palatine eased his blue and gold 65-ton Crusader along the dried river gully from the east as he carefully controlled his 'Mech until it now faced the inner-perimeter of the base camp. With the warning sensors and nearby sentries disabled, he knew that the Blakist fanatics would be in for a complete shock when all hell broke loose. Captain Natasha Kerensky told him to initiate a "mad minute" attack to try and cause as much havoc as possible as well as destroying any targets of opportunity. The Black Widow also warned him not to stay in the area for too long for the Blakists would call for immediate assistance from nearby units. All he had was maybe two minutes, at the most.
As his targeting grid lit up, Palatine could see that several heavy trucks were parked alongside a Triumph class DropShip. He hoped that the strike team would see those and commandeer them. To the right of that he could see a 40-ton Initiate BattleMech being serviced by several white-robed technicians in an opened cargo bay door of a Union DropShip. With a grim smile on his face, Palatine targeted the immobile 'Mech and squeezed the trigger on his control stick.
Within a millisecond, two massive volleys of long-ranged missiles leaped out from his Crusader's shoulder launchers. Palatine watched, mesmerized for a brief second as the white streaks from the missile exhaust tubes trailed out into the blackened desert sky as they made minute adjustments before immediately impacting upon the front torsos of the hapless Initiate. The Blakist 'Mech's weapon pods were open as it was being loaded with new missiles and so therefore became a virtual tinderbox as massive explosions detonated all over it. Several missiles gutted the ammo storage bin of the Initiate as the 'Mech toppled over backwards into the Union's cargo bay, its insides imploding as screaming personnel began to panic as chaos erupted all around them. Although he was tempted to keep firing more volleys into the DropShip's cargo bay, Palatine reminded himself that he had a lot of other priority targets out there.
"What in Blake's hell was that?" Adept Jason Cornelius called out using the comm. system of his Purifier battlearmor. Cornelius and his colleague had unpacked two Purifiers earlier that day and relished at finally getting the chance to do preliminary field-testing at a nearby dried-out riverbed to the west while his superiors were away. They had barely begun to test the mimetic effect that enabled the Purifiers to have stealth capabilities when explosions began to erupt at the base camp.
"The base is under attack!" His colleague said as they both leapt up onto the top of the gully and scanned the area.
Cornelius cursed. Almost all of the 'Mechs and vehicles had ventured out for a night search, hoping to catch the delegates if they traveled through the darkness. Precentor Brandon St. Jamais had concluded that the delegates lacked any sort of firepower whatsoever and for them to even make an attempt to attack at the base would be pure insanity. How wrong they were. Not only had the delegates been able to somehow acquire some pretty hefty firepower but they were actually striking back. Recriminations would come later, Cornelius thought. What needed to be done now was to defend the perimeter until reinforcements arrived. At least that was the conventional way of reacting but Cornelius was a LOM veteran and in the Special Forces, you were taught to use your initiative.
Over fifteen years ago, when the Clans invaded the Inner-Sphere they brought with them powered armor that was able to stand up against even BattleMechs. The Elementals, as they were called, gained a fearsome reputation: heavily protected behind an armored suit that enhanced their strength and movement, these tank suits vanquished all comers before them with their incredible firepower. In time, the Inner-Sphere began to develop their own types of powered armor. Though not quite as advanced as the Clan version, the myriad variety and the endless tinkering produced many versatile variants of powered armor for any situation.
The Purifier was considered a state-of-the-art infiltration battlearmor. Although its armor protection and firepower was weak compared to the heavier battlesuit types, the Purifier featured a chemical composite on its armor sheaths that created a mimetic effect, allowing the suit to change colors and blend in with the environment. Additional stealth systems enhanced the suit's concealment capabilities. The one weakness of the Purifier's stealth systems was that the central processing unit tended to work better if the operator moved slowly. Thus, the faster the battlearmor moved, the less capable its concealment systems became.
Quickly sizing up his armor's capabilities, Cornelius knew that his battlearmor would not be able to match a 'Mech for firepower in a stand-up fight but there were other ways to deal with them and his Purifier was ideally suited for that. Although they had not mounted the NARC launchers onto the battlearmor, it was still a potent weapon if used properly. "Did you bring those satchel charges with you?" He asked his identically suited colleague.
"Yes, Adept. We were to practice with them tonight." His colleague answered using the Purifier's internal comm. link as the explosions continued.
"Looks like it will be a live-fire exercise; follow me."
As the second volley of missiles from Palatine's Crusader impacted on the portable power units of the base camp, the resulting short-circuit immediately cut the power to the strobe lights and the entire base was thrown into darkness. Technicians began scrambling for cover while infantrymen sleeping inside the DropShips immediately shook themselves awake and started donning their flak vests and readying their weapons. A few of the less experienced soldiers ventured out to see a darkened landscape filled with occasional flashes of blinding light, explosions and screaming men. Some just stared out in utter disbelief while the more experienced ones began to adjust their night-vision goggles that some had retrieved along with their helmets. Since no one spotted their attackers, most fired their weapons in every direction, adding to the noise and lights that helped to illuminate the night.
A WOB infantryman adjusted his night-vision goggles and readied his assault rifle as he saw ten robed figures crest a nearby small dune and began running towards him. Thinking that they were just technicians, the soldier scanned for other targets. A slug from a Capellan bodyguard's pistol impacted at the base of his neck and the Blakist went down, blood gushing from his wound as they ran past him.
One of the Federated Suns bodyguards instantly took the dying soldier's rifle, night-vision goggles and ammo pouch as the group split into pairs and made it to the parked trucks. As one covered the other, a designated member of the strike team then got into the driver's seat of a truck and began to hotwire the vehicle's ignition using their pocket tools. Some of the more experienced ones got their trucks started immediately and began to drive away towards the east while the novices panicked and had to carefully remember what was taught to them during the mission briefing a few hours before. This had cost them a few precious seconds.
Acolyte Rogelio Chavez had been sleeping fitfully in his bunk inside the Fury class DropShip when the alarms sounded. Most of the other LOM operators had accompanied the helicopters when they went out on another mission to try and locate the delegates but on this night he had decided to catch up on his sleep. His colleagues told him that he might miss the chance to chalk up more kills if they found the delegates but Chavez was adamant, he needed to rest his weary body. As the klaxons blared all around him, Chavez quickly put on his combat webbing and boots and was out the door in less than forty seconds. As he readied his rifle, Chavez smiled to himself- he was probably having more fun than his colleagues who decided to go with the patrol.
John Palatine gave out a loud whoop as his latest volley of long-ranged missiles ignited an ammunition dump near the center of the camp. The resulting cacophony of explosions threw up a massive lightshow into the air as the stored ordinance detonated, a few exploding shells inadvertently flew into the Fury's cargo hold, igniting more ammunition and causing a raging internal fire. WOB technicians were scrambling as they attempted to reorganize and try to control the damage being done. The command bunker was already blown to bits from a previous barrage of missiles from the Crusader and so the Blakist garrison was in complete disarray. So far everything had gone according to plan, Palatine thought as the wanton displays of destruction began to distract him once more.
In a dried-out riverbed to the east, Natasha Kerensky trembled with apprehension as she sat in the darkened cockpit of her Warhammer. She had positioned her BattleMech on the far side of the gully to provide cover once the stolen trucks had made their way there. Her all-black Warhammer blended in with the night as it crouched low, keeping its profile close to the dried, sandy walls. Additionally, her 'Mech was customized with Clan weapons as well as added armor which made it more lethal than ever before. The "Widowmaker" variant of the venerable Warhammer was also equipped with a Null-Signature system, a stealth arrangement of high-tech modifications that rendered her BattleMech invisible to opposing sensors in limited conditions. With a combination of heat baffles that reduced its infrared signature as well as incorporating a stealthy system of sensors and communications, the Black Widow was like a concealed predator, just waiting to strike at an unsuspecting enemy. But Natasha was getting concerned, the raid was taking far too long and WOB reinforcements could come any minute.
As the first truck began to pass near her, Chifune quickly got up, slung the rifle over her shoulder and jumped into the back of the vehicle as it sped along towards the east. She had scored eleven kills and so far, the raid was a spectacular success.
Captain Janice De Llandes cursed as the Federated Suns bodyguard beside her was still fiddling with the truck's ignition switch. The seconds seemed like an eternity as explosions occurred all around them. De Llandes could see that the other trucks had already begun to drive off into the darkness towards Natasha Kerensky and her Warhammer 'Mech.
"Hurry up!" De Llandes shouted as the bodyguard continued to fumble with the exposed ignition wires.
"Almost there." The bodyguard answered without looking up. He was too busy concentrating on hotwiring the truck's ignition.
Suddenly, the door at De Llandes' side opened and a WOB infantryman peered inside. "Brothers, what are you doing?" The young soldier asked.
Janice De Llandes still had a laser pistol in her hand and she quickly shot the naive soldier in the face. The Blakist fell backwards onto the sandy ground, clutching at his horribly burnt visage. De Llandes almost immediately regretted it for she had never killed anyone before.
"Got it!" The bodyguard said as he started the ignition and stepped on the accelerator. The truck began to lurch forward towards the safety of the night.
Acolyte Rogelio Chavez had barely got out of the Fury class DropShip's cargo bay doors when it exploded into a hellish inferno that caught several of his colleagues. What was once mild amusement to him turned into righteous fury when he realized that his brothers were dying all around him, being blasted by an unseen adversary. Ignoring the cries of the wounded, Chavez activated the night-vision component on his sniper scope and began scanning for targets as he ran on top of a small hillock not far from the center of the base camp. As he traversed the scope towards the east, he let out a gasp as he noticed a Crusader heavy BattleMech firing volleys of missiles into the camp. As his mind was totally aghast as to how the delegates were able to acquire 'Mechs, his training and experience ultimately took over. Although his sniper rifle was next to useless against a gargantuan war machine such as a BattleMech, he kept his cool and looked for other targets of opportunity.
Sure enough, Chavez noticed a heavy truck making its way towards the east where the Crusader was. Although the 'Mech could clearly see the truck it did not fire on such an exposed target; that could only mean one thing- the truck was being stolen and the Crusader was providing cover. Chavez flicked off the safety catch of his rifle, took aim and fired.
The LOM operator's first shot punctured the rear tire of the truck and the heavy transport began to flounder on the desert sands. If it was traveling on a road, the wheels would have self-sealed somewhat due to the fact that it was military grade tires but the dust seeped in and the vehicle grounded to a halt. Using his throat mike, Chavez quickly signaled a nearby team of WOB infantrymen to get over to it and capture the occupants.
"We can't move!" The bodyguard shouted as he pressed on the accelerator with all his might.
"Dammit!" De Llandes cursed as several WOB infantrymen began to surround the vehicle from both sides.
"You in there! Come out with your hands up!" A WOB squad leader shouted as his men crouched down and aimed their rifles at them. The Federated Suns bodyguard instantly let loose a extended burst from his captured assault rifle which sent the Blakist NCO sprawling onto the ground as he caught a volley of slugs in his chest. The remaining WOB infantrymen immediately opened up, raking the front part of the truck with 5.56mm slugs and laser fire. The bodyguard was hit in the head several times and died immediately as De Llandes took several shots on her arms and upper torsos which sent her flying backwards out of the truck and onto the sandy ground.
Chavez kept his eye at the truck in case anyone else was inside for a few seconds until his night-vision scope told him that there were no other occupants in it. Quickly scanning for other targets, Chavez noticed that another truck had already passed the still-firing Crusader and was almost out of range. Although the distance was extreme, Chavez made slight adjustments on his scope as he noticed that the back of the truck contained boxes of ammunition and explosives. Using conventional slug throwers, the longest combat shot that Chavez ever heard of was 1,500 meters; judging from his calculations, it looked to be at that range. Carefully noting the line of HE grenades sitting exposed on one of the open crates at the back of the truck, Chavez zeroed-in on the closest one and fired.
With a muzzle velocity of over 2,500 meters per second, the 7.62mm slug hit the side of the grenade but since the bullet had a high explosive component, it did the job. A scant second later, the rear of the truck began exploding as the stored ordinance began to detonate. Both bodyguards up front thought that the first few explosions were just part of the background and so failed to bail out of the vehicle in time as the resulting detonation of the stored C8 blasting blocks at the back literally tore the truck to shreds as it became a massive fireball.
John Palatine grimaced as he saw the last truck behind him explode. If he had to stay awhile longer to kill a few more of these savage Blakists, so be it, he thought. As the young MechWarrior began to target the barren hillock near the center of the base camp, he did not notice two shimmering forms slowly making their way to his rear.
"Now!" Cornelius shouted into his suit's comm. link as he leapt onto the legs of the Crusader BattleMech and planted two satchel charges in its left knee joint. His colleague did the same thing on the 'Mech's right knee.
The Crusader's sensors immediately warned him of two contacts at point-blank range as Palatine stared back into the darkness from his cockpit viewports, unable to see what was happening. As he began thrashing his Crusader in a panicked attempt to dislodge his tormentors, the two Purifiers jumped to the side as the satchel charges detonated.
In a split second, the shaped charge of C8 explosive cut into the exposed knee joints of the heavily armored Crusader. As the high-explosives shattered the 'Mech's myomer musculature, both Purifiers began to fire point-blank shots with their extended-range small lasers at the exposed metallic "bones" of the Crusader's knees.
Alarms wailed all over inside Palatine's cockpit as the young MechWarrior struggled desperately with the controls to keep the 'Mech upright but it was no use, the gyros began to malfunction and he could not get any response from the shattered knees as the Crusader toppled over onto the sandy ground.
Cornelius could still see the giant 'Mech thrashing about in the sand, it's medium lasers firing blindly into the air. The LOM officer and his colleague quickly pounced on top of the Crusader's chest, continuously firing their lasers as they began to dismantle the metallic war machine like army ants over a downed caterpillar. As Cornelius began melting off the viewports surrounding the Crusader's cockpit, a laser shot scorched his battlearmor's chest plate. It was apparent that even with his 'Mech disabled, the pilot continued to fight. With his rage still unabated, Cornelius fired continuously into the exposed cockpit until the smoke from a burning fire rose out.
As the chaos began to die down around them, Cornelius jumped off the fallen 'Mech and proceeded back towards the center of the camp. It seemed that the rest of the raiders had gone away. Now he had to face the recriminations of not being in the command bunker during this one, crucial time.
