Spade-One heard the distress call no more than thirty seconds into the raid. The first message came through the command bunker as a communications officer began to let out a call for help to any unit in range before the comm. link abruptly went to static. The next calls came from the grounded DropShips as they sent out frantic requests for help against an unseen enemy. After relaying the calls to all nearby units, the Ferret scout helicopter immediately changed course and headed back to base at full speed.
Within less than ten minutes the Ferret pilot was overlooking the burning fires around the base camp. It looked like all the ammunition dumps had been hit and set ablaze as the firecracker-like explosions would reverberate even through the whine of the rotors and their high altitude. Several fires also seemed to be around the DropShips as emergency crews worked hard to try to contain them before they could spread to other parts of the ships. A fallen Crusader BattleMech, it's knees shattered and cockpit torn open, lay on the sandy ground to the east; it seemed that not all of the raiders had gotten away.
The pilot switched on his chopper's comm. link. "This is Spade-one, I am circling the base camp. There was apparently a raid; the enemy used at least one BattleMech; heavy type." The pilot panned around using the night-vision goggles on his helmet as he circled lower for a closer look. "Confirmed Crusader BattleMech."
"Spade-one, is the attack over?" The acknowledging voice belonged to Precentor Brandon St. Jamias.
"Roger that, 'Mech-one. Damage control operations are underway." The Ferret pilot answered. "Raiders seemed to have left the area just minutes ago; request further orders."
"Pinpoint raider whereabouts but do not engage." St. Jamais ordered. "Scout ahead and relay enemy locations to all units."
"Roger that, sir." The pilot said as he veered the helicopter off towards the east.
When she had lost someone close to her, tears would normally well around her eyes as she shed them for the dead. But now, after all that had happened, so many had died and she was tired of shedding them. An ironclad determination of vengeance welled around her spirit as her rage and fury swelled to monstrous proportions. The seething anger threatened to erupt into wisps of fire and brimstone all around her body as she could barely control herself. John Palatine knew the risks when he volunteered to strike back at the Blakists but that gave her no comfort as she silently mourned his passing. He had made the choice and died, as he had wanted to, not as a hunted animal but as a warrior with a cause. She kept trying to justify her thoughts so that it would drive away her guilt but then again, such was the price of command.
Her all-black Warhammer had been hiding close to the gully as the commandeered trucks began to pass her by, blending in with the desert night as the Null-Signature stealth system remained in full effect. She had counted about three trucks so it was apparent that they lost two and the accompanying men along with them. Looked like their casualties were five now. She knew that the WOB forces arrayed against them not only had overwhelming firepower but also were an elite unit, able to match her tactics with the strength of experience and iron determination. If they were to prevail in this battle, they would need a miracle with which to survive.
The Ferret pilot peered into the darkness as he used his night-vision goggles to spot for any telltale signs of movement as the light scout helicopter cruised by the dried river gully. It was obvious that the trucks that were stolen kept their headlights off as they drove to an unknown destination but already the pilot could see dust clouds in the desert air as he started tracking down the fleeing vehicles from the air. "See anything?" He said to his co-pilot who was scanning the other side of the cockpit.
"Nothing." His co-pilot answered.
"I see something!" The Ferret pilot shouted as he saw something large and dark straddling the nearby gully.
Natasha saw the pursuing helicopter almost immediately. It was apparent that the Blakists would try to track them down and that was the reason why she did not support the Crusader as it attacked the camp, if only she had more 'Mechs at her disposal, she would teach these fanatics about how to fight a war. Quickly deactivating her Null-Signature system, she lighted up her targeting reticules as she aimed her 'Mech's weapons at the approaching helicopter.
"BattleMech up ahead!" The Ferret co-pilot shouted as the helicopter's sensors instantly registered an enemy 'Mech that seemingly popped out of nowhere.
"I see it!" The chopper pilot said as he punched on the comm. link switch. "Spade-one to all units, we have spotted-" He was cut off in mid-sentence as a 120mm gauss slug made of solid, depleted uranium slammed head-on into the Ferret's nose. Being lightly armored, the solid shell immediately passed through the entire length of the aircraft's fuselage as if it wasn't even there as the Ferret literally disintegrated in the air.
As pieces of the helicopter began falling from the night sky, Natasha quickly hunkered down once again and reactivated her stealth systems. She needed to give the trucks more time to clear the area before she needed to leave too. Within a few short minutes, two enemy 'Mechs were already making their way towards her position.
Natasha could see that a 45-ton Bloodhound was moving at cruising speed, using its active probe to spot her hiding place while an 80-ton Spartan assault 'Mech was following close behind, acting as a back-up in case they met any resistance. Even with her Null-Signature systems, the Bloodhound pilot stood a good chance of spotting her once he got close enough. Natasha couldn't allow that as she once again disengaged the Null-Signature system and powered up her weapons.
The Bloodhound detected the Warhammer just as Natasha fired her dual Clan-manufactured gauss cannons at the surprised enemy 'Mech. Essentially an inert metal slug propelled by intense magnetic energy, the gauss cannon was the next step in projectile weapon evolution. The massive magnets of the gauss cannons grabbed onto their respective metal slugs and polarized it. With the intense magnetic fields surrounding them, the massive 120mm shells instantly leapt out of the rifled barrel of the Warhammer's arms at hypersonic speeds and impacted onto the enemy 'Mech.
Both slugs tore through the Bloodhound's left torso and literally disemboweled the 45-ton medium 'Mech as its exposed fusion reactor instantly went into meltdown. The Bloodhound collapsed in a heap as its metallic shape began to glow from the exposed engine core. The Spartan pilot quickly fired its extended-range particle projectile cannon at the general area where Natasha's Warhammer was, sending a man-made lightning bolt eastwards and hitting a nearby patch of sand, literally turning it into glass.
As the assault-class Spartan began to move forward at flank speed, hoping to close in so that it could use its pulse lasers and short-ranged missiles into play, the WOB 'Mech faltered and stopped as its sensors would alternately pinpoint and then lose the Warhammer's signal.
The Black Widow nearly laughed as the enemy 'Mech began to fire its weapons at her general direction, as it was just unable to pinpoint her exact location in the darkness. What the Blakist did not know was that she kept alternately activating and deactivating her Warhammer's Null-Signature system as she waited for her weapons to cycle back again. The Black Widow knew that the best way to bring down the heavier Spartan was to wear it down at long-range.
While the Spartan pilot howled in frustration, two 120mm shells struck it, the first impacting on its center torso and the second shot hitting it in the left leg. Fortunately, the Spartan was heavily armored and it was able to absorb the damage so far. The LOM MechWarrior immediately made a decision as he drove the Spartan into full-throttle, hoping he could get into the gully and spot the enemy Warhammer visually.
Natasha grimaced as she saw the 80-ton assault 'Mech bearing down on her. Once it got into close range, The Spartan could turn into a very big nuisance if she didn't take it out. The WOB 'Mech might beat her at close range and destroy the trucks that she was protecting due to its superior speed and armor. But the Black Widow knew that she should trust in her skills and not panic; she needed to wait until her gauss cannons cycled back again and she would try to deliver an alpha strike- hitting the enemy 'Mech with all her weapons at once to try to bring it down or else her troubles would multiply rapidly, already she saw several more enemy contacts making their way to the area. As she fought to keep herself from panicking, Natasha waited for her time.
Sure enough, the Spartan pilot knew from his instincts alone where the Warhammer was as he pivoted his barrel-chested torso to bring his weapons to bear. He felt that he could take any sort of attack from the enemy 'Mech and still come out swinging. With luck, he might even cripple it at this range with the Spartan's massive battlefists.
Just as the enemy assault 'Mech pivoted towards her, Natasha had already deactivated the Null-Signature system as she was concentrating to target all of her weapons on one vulnerable spot. Seeing a few loose armor plates on the Spartan's left leg, the Black Widow focused her weapon reticules on it and fired.
A barrage of heavy laser fire as well as two 120mm gauss slugs impacted onto the Spartan's left leg just as the WOB MechWarrior triggered his weapons. The multiple laser hits and depleted uranium shells tore through the Spartan's formidable armor and sheared off the leg close to the lower torso. The Spartan's pulse lasers went slightly wide as it started to tip over sideways and the streak missile launcher failed to get a lock-on as it lost the proper firing angle. The WOB assault 'Mech crashed onto the base of the sandy gully with a loud crunch as its left arm shattered from the force of the fall.
Rivers of sweat poured down Natasha's forehead and steamed the visor in her neurohelmet as she eased the Warhammer back and then turned to move out. Her 'Mech's heat scales had risen to near-danger levels but now that the enemy was down, she could bide her time and vent the excess temperature off. The Spartan still thrashed on the sandy ground, its pulse lasers firing wildly but hitting nothing but dust and rocks. How she wanted to finish the stricken 'Mech off but already the enemy signals were multiplying to over a half-dozen as reinforcements swarmed the area. Best to get the hell out of there and live to fight another day, she thought.
As John Shive drove the stolen truck on into the night, he looked at his rearview mirror and spotted only one other truck behind him. With the other heavy transport out in front, it seemed like only three of them had gotten out of the lion's den. Part of him was thankful that he had made it out alive but at the same time the regrets and hindsight started to overwhelm him as to the possibilities of getting more than what they could have gotten. As he strained his eyes out into the night and hoping that his superior, Captain De Llandes made it to safety as well, a gnawing reality manifested itself into his subconscious, as he feared for the worst.
Brandon St. Jamais eased up on the throttle of his 75-ton Toyama BattleMech as he surveyed the carnage around him. The raiders had planned it well and if were it not for a few LOM operators that kept their cool and used their initiative, the entire engagement would have been a bitter defeat for the holy cause. As it was, they were able to inflict casualties on the attackers though they had paid a price for it as well. Jason Cornelius had offered his resignation as acting senior field commander but Brandon turned it down; he knew that he needed them all now. It had stopped being a game; the mouse was not only cunning but had teeth as well. For it was partly his own fault that he neglected to keep some of his force for base defense and instead deployed all of his available forces to try and find those accursed delegates, his impatience had gotten the better of him and he realized it.
"Cornelius to Precentor, come in over." The voice of Jason Cornelius crackled over Brandon's comm. link.
"This is the Precentor, reading you clearly." Brandon answered.
"The casualty report is as follows: 54 dead, another 38 wounded. We lost three 'Mechs: a Spartan, an Initiate and a Bloodhound." Cornelius said over the link. "We also lost two aircraft: one Ferret from hostile fire and a Gnat which crashed when it lost the signal from the command bunker."
"What about the other Gnats?"
"We were fortunate that they were equipped with a failsafe autopilot system that ordered them to return to base once they lost their command signals. We have to thank Adept Faud for jury-rigging those in. The Gnat that crashed flew into a dust storm."
"Are the fires under control?"
"Yes, Precentor. We lost several supply dumps when they were hit and several of the DropShips sustained heavy damage as well but they are still serviceable."
"Very well." Brandon sighed. "Is it true that the raiders attempted to commandeer several vehicles?"
"Yes. They tried to drive away five heavy supply trucks but we were able to intercept two of them before they got through the base perimeter. We have captured a prisoner, but she is seriously wounded."
"Spare no effort in interrogation." Brandon was fuming; but at least he had someone to take it out on. "I will not see more of our brothers die if we can help it."
"Yes, Precentor." Cornelius acknowledged. "I will have a more comprehensive report for you shortly."
"Good. Considering what the circumstances were, you did well." Brandon said.
"Thanks Be to Blake, Precentor." Cornelius replied. "I shall do better next time."
"I know you will. Over and out."
"Precentor, this is Goth." Amon Goth patched into Brandon's comm. link as well.
"Have you pinpointed the raiders?" Brandon asked.
"I am afraid we have lost them, sir. A very fierce sandstorm has just descended upon us; visibility is near zero and the dust has covered up their tracks. I will need air support to complete the sweep."
Brandon cursed. Of all the bad luck, even the weather conspired against them. Another massive dust storm was moving into the entire area. Oh well, the delegates would have to wait; it wasn't like they were going anywhere anyway. "Withdraw back to base camp. We will wait out the sand storm here."
"Are you sure, Precentor? I believe from what has been reported there can't be more than one or two enemy 'Mechs out there. If we had some air spotters we could take them out." Goth wanted to fight and get it over with.
"That's precisely the problem. We have no air cover." Brandon explained. "The Gnats will be grounded until we set up a new remote control command system, the choppers won't be of much use in that visibility and they are vulnerable at close range; I don't want to lose any more of them and lastly, both Rievers still have not been fully repaired as of yet."
"I understand, Precentor. We are returning to base." Goth acknowledged. "I have seen the Spartan's recording of its targeting systems when it was uploaded to my 'Mech's computer."
"Find anything useful?"
"Yes. It seems that we have been engaging an all-black, vintage Warhammer heavy 'Mech with a red hourglass painted on its left leg."
Brandon was stunned for a few brief seconds when he heard the news. "I see. We will discuss it when you return. Over and out."
The young Precentor now realized who it was that they were fighting all along. No wonder the raid was so expertly planned. Only an experienced commander belonging to an elite unit would be so daring as to mount a counterstrike right at the enemy's heart. The rumors of a great warrior, resurrected and more lethal than ever before, were proving to be true.
It was the Black Widow. There could be no doubt about that.
