Van Horn ran his armored hands over the edge of the capsule that he was about to climb in. It's been so long, he mused. I just hope the refresher training was enough. With that last thought, he turned and backed into the drop capsule, scrunching up into a fetal position as much as the scout armor he wore would allow. Carefully, he tucked in the weapons and equipment that was his load out, and then finally scrunched all the way down, allowing the naval technicians to finish sealing the capsule for the drop.
The Rodger Young continued its boost along an orbital path that would allow Captain Ladavic to drop Vickers' platoon over Hercor at the maximum velocity possible. Although a risk, van Horn knew that the high-speed drop had several advantages. He went over them in his mind as the capsule was sealed fully. One, we're in the air for a less amount of time, and therefore aren't easy targets for any conventional fighters the Wobbies might have. Two, we get there faster, so there's less reaction time for the enemy on the ground, and three, higher speed means that the atmospheric winds can't knock us around too much, making dispersal negligible.
It was still none too comforting to know that these kinds of drops could also end up bad if the ship's captain wasn't skilled enough, but van Horn smiled as he felt the capsule lifted by a worker in an industrial exoskeleton. I think Captain Ladavic's earned the benefit of the doubt with that stunt she pulled, he thought bemusedly as his capsule was placed into the drop rack and shoved into position. Van Horn shifted in his armor unconsciously, his nerves working up again. He tried to sooth himself by replaying the briefing that Lieutenant Vickers had given only a few hours ago.
Vickers had stood over the holoprojector table that was in the Young's mission briefing room, the air still thick with perspiration from the fighter pilots who had used it last. Vickers had brought up a map of Hercor similar to the one that van Horn had seen in the command room back on New Honshu, and he had outlined his plan.
"All right, you apes, this is the story." He had begun. "This is the town of Hercor. I'm sure that you've all heard the scuttlebutt by now, so let's get to the point." He pressed a few controls and the map zoomed in to show the town as a miniature rock sticking above a flat plain, and small, three-dimensional icons denoted ranks of native Lupar and, more threateningly, several Battlemechs and Tanks. "What we have here is a siege of our friendlies in the town, as the Wobbies want to conserve their forces by getting the town to surrender from a lack of food. As you can see, they have principally native formations acting as a blanket between them and the town." As he spoke, Vickers entered commands that highlighted the items that he was talking about.
"Now, the plan is this." He leaned over the table, prompting the fifty-three other individuals in the room to do so as well... Allowing several heads to knock together. Vickers had looked up and nodded. "That's right, get too close, and you bump heads. Remember that, jarheads. Now," he pressed another control on the holoprojector and several blue icons dropped from the sky. "This is our deployment. We are to execute an orbital drop via capsules and land right on top of their army." As Vickers spoke, the little blue icons representing individual troopers landed. "Once on the ground, assemble in squads and move towards the enemy 'mechs. They are our first priority, along with any Blakest infantry force, including any opposition battle armor." The icons merged into several squad icons and advanced on the Blakest 'Mechs in the rear of the Lupar ranks.
"Now, we'll probably be landing near the native ranks. But I don't want you firing on them if that's avoidable. Intel," he took a second to look at van Horn, and every set of eyes moved to look at the hapless doctor as well before turning back to their Lieutenant. "Intel says that the natives should be heavily demoralized by our appearance - figurative and literal - and if we can take out a 'mech, they should flee en masse." Vickers stood erect. "Now, we're here to liberate these people, so I don't want you going nuts. If you fall under attack from them, fall back and evade. They can't possibly match our maneuverability, and so you should be able to avoid the need for a counter attack. However, if you feel that your life is truly endangered, you are permitted to fire on the natives." Vickers paused and looked over each Trooper, catching them in the eye with a stern look. "But I repeat myself on this matter; avoid native casualties at all reasonable cost."
Van Horn's thoughts came back to the present as he felt the sudden shift in his mass as the Rodger Young cut her thrust and pitched around to begin the deceleration maneuver. He braced himself, tensing his muscles a bit in anticipation of the hard-gees he knew were coming.
When it came, the three gee burn hit him hard, pressing him into his armor's padding, his skin pinching a slight bit at the leg and arm cuffs. Then the burn stopped and he was shaken as his capsule jerked sideways. Van Horn again braced himself for the long series of jolts that would accompany the process of moving through the launch queue.
Eventually, his turn finally came up. His capsule slammed into the launch tube with a clang so loud that it rang van Horn's armor like a bell. But it was nothing as a small explosive charge propelled him out of the launch tube and into space like some massive rifle bullet.
Microgravity returned and silence reigned as van Horn's capsule raced along its ballistic path. Van Horn knew from his training and personal experience that it would only be a few moments until he entered the atmosphere and weight returned. He used those moments to rerun more of the briefing through his head, remembering the details of the two platoons of battle armor coming in behind Vickers' Vanquishers, one each from the 5th Marauders and the Neo Tokyo Grenadiers. They were to drop originally with the Vanquishers, but the naval battle had scattered the flotilla a bit, and the other two platoons would be fifteen minutes behind them.
Even worse, the National Guard's ships aren't properly equipped for combat drops, so the 'Mechs will have to ride down in their DropShips, which adds another fifteen minutes until they engage. Van Horn sighed, the sound loud in his helmet. "Gonna be a long day, Earl m'boy." He mumbled to himself.
Then the capsule bit into the atmosphere, and van Horn pressed all thoughts out of his head, save for the ones that checked and rechecked over the mental list that had been drilled into him. Parachute? Check. Reserve Chute? Check. HUD? Check. And so he went on, again making sure that everything was in order.
The minutes ticked by, and van Horn could feel the capsule evaporate around him as it's outer coatings melted and sloughed away, fulfilling their duty by absorbing heat and kinetic energy and transferring it away from the capsule's core, as well as throwing out hundreds of pieces of highly-reflective material that would confound any targeting radar trying to pick out the deadly M.I. Troopers from the chaff.
Then the capsule's first chute opened, yanking the capsule straight, and then breaking away, as its purpose was then fulfilled. Van Horn was wrenched in his position, but his armor kept him from being hurt. Only a matter of time now.
The second chute then opened, and lasted for a bit before the stress tore it apart. IT soon left and the capsule deployed its third and final chute, which slowed van Horn enough that he was now safe from being burned alive by friction-induced heat.
At the appropriate time, the capsule split open along its seams as explosive bolts ruptured the protective cocoon and send the shards flying away from van Horn.
He took a moment to stretch himself out, working the kinks that had built up in the last thirty minutes of waiting, and he checked his HUD. Off to his left and right, and ahead and behind him, he saw icons pop onto his helmet's holographic HUD, each one denoting another trooper from the Vanquishers.
Then the Landing Zone Indicator popped up, prompting van Horn to look straight down, along his falling path. Below, he could see the rocky spire of Hercor almost shining in the glint of mid morning, and around it on the east and west sides of the river were splayed out several masses of brown, and various magnetic anomaly readings. Van Horn felt his gut twinge at the last, knowing that each one represented several metric tons of firepower, armor, and speed.
However, training took over and he pushed his fear aside as it came time to deploy his parachute. With a careful pull on the chute cord, and the large black canopy opened up, cutting off the sun from van Horn's view, but he didn't care as he monitored his altitude and descent rate. Almost time... He thought, tabulating the numbers in his head, all the while, the plains of Hercor and the relatively large army grew larger and larger.
"Now!" van Horn yelled to himself as he cut the chute loose and fell through empty space. Below, the Lupar ranks were becoming disorderly, chaotic, and they were breaking up. Van Horn felt hope that they would run at the mere sight of the Mobile Infantry, but he knew he couldn't rely on that. He again pushed his mind into the battlefield mindset as he triggered his Jump Jets in a series of bursts that slowed him enough so that his landing wouldn't make a crater with his body at the bottom.
In a few moments, van Horn's armored feet touched down on the ground of Bowman's Planet. They them immediately left as he hit his jump jets again, leaping away from the patch of open ground that he had landed on. It proved to be an effective maneuver, as two laser bolts from a Blakest Firestarter ripped into the exact spot van Horn had landed on.
Without conscious thought, van Horn brought up the Heavy Gyrojet Gun that was his weapon, took aim, and fired, all in mid-flight. The gun bucked as propellant ignited, launching the miniature gyrojet rocket from the barrel and sending the small rocket on its way. Although meant for anti-personnel duty, the weapon was decent enough for a scout unit to use against light armor, and even more so when the gunner knew how to use it.
Van Horn was one of those people. His aim proved true and the small rocket rammed into the cockpit canopy of the Firestarter, causing the MechWarrior inside to flinch. The moment's hesitation was enough for van Horn to land and again jump towards the 35-ton 'mech firing another shot as he did, and again landing it on the cockpit.
Although the machine's pilot seemed to recover and begin to aim for van Horn again, he paused as he saw a sight not seen often. Two squads of Mobile Infantry, fourteen troopers, plus van Horn, leapt at the Firestarter. Missiles and lasers and armor-piercing bullets rammed into the front of the 'mech in a near-constant hail of fire which unnerved the MechWarrior within. He vainly triggered his lasers and machine guns, trying to reach out and chase the advancing infantry away.
One bolt of focused light did impact a trooper in a Marauder suit, sending the soldier flying. Van Horn didn't worry too much, however, as the Marauders were built to take twice that much firepower and still keep its occupant safe. Instead, he fired another round at the 'mech's head, though this time the pilot's frantic moves managed to spoil his aim, and the rocket-projectile flew past.
Caught up in the moment, his training and experience kicking in, van Horn didn't think, but acted, leaping up and onto the Firestarter, along with the other seven troopers of the scout squad he was attached to. With a thud that knocked the air from his chest, van Horn landed on the 'mech's left torso and grabbed onto the protruding barrel of the machine gun. Working quickly against the constantly-moving surface of the Firestarter, van Horn planted his feet into a gap in the armor plates created by a laser blast, and used their leverage and the suit's strength-enhancing myomers to literally rip the machine gun out from its mount. He then tossed it away in a manner that was both arrogant and disgusted at the same time, and he stuck his Gyrojet Gun into the opening in the armor, and he pulled the trigger two more times, sending the last two rockets from its current clip into the 'mechs innards.
Above him, similar scenes played out as the scout squad ripped armor plating and external weapons off of their mounts, and then fired into the gaps. The Firestarter shuddered as several troopers fired into the center torso, tearing up the gyro that the bipedal war machine needed to stay upright.
Even as the light 'mech began to tilt forward, van Horn twisted his body and triggered his jump jets, leaping off of the doomed 'mech to land on a patch of waist-height grass. Scanning the area, he saw the scout squad turn and move off to join the rest of the Vanquishers as they targeted a Blakest Buccaneer.
Van Horn ran for a short bit, trusting the scout armor's stealth composites and ECM systems protect him as he dropped the spent clip from his main weapon and inserted a fresh one. As soon as he finished with that, van Horn triggered his jets and leapt off to rejoin the fight.
It wasn't much of one, for the moment. The Buccaneer, although equipped with a number of anti-battle armor weaponry, found itself beset with numbers that it had never been intended to encounter. Fifty-Four troopers fired continuously, sending an ungodly hail of destructive firepower raining on the enemy 'mech. Unable to cope, the MechWarrior inside turned his 'mech and ran.
Van Horn blinked. Ran? A Medium 'Mech running from armored troopers? Although the M.I. had been trained to be devastating, van Horn had never imagined that they could actually have made the heavier enemy force retreat.
"Enemy infantry have flanked us and are heading for the town at speed!" A report came in from a flanker off to van Horn's rear. Checking his HUD, he saw icons of two Heavy APCs rolling towards Hercor at high speed.
"Shit. All squads, to the town! Defend the civilians!" Vickers called from where he had taken a temporary respite. The lieutenant looked over the more detailed HUD in his own Kage II-C command armor, and he felt a pit of ice materialize in his stomach. The enemy 'mechs are only regrouping... "Foxtrot Squad, belay that last!" Vickers aid as he joined in with his platoon as they moved quickly towards the town. "Take up skirmish positions between the town and the enemy 'mechs! Set fire to the grass if they try to push forward before help arrives!"
A hurried acknowledgement came from Foxtrot Squad's leader, and his formation of seven Salamander incendiary suits turned on a dime and raced to provide a delaying barrier between Hercor and the regrouping 'mechs.
Van Horn noticed this, but he said nothing as he and the other scout squad members raced ahead of their slower comrades. Their armor, although light, was based off of the Grey Death Legion's own Scout Armor, and thus boasted jump boosters that increased the range of their jump capability by a third.
Van Horn mulled over this briefly as he closed with the town's gates, trying to distract himself from worrying about the friends he had inside. Grey Death Scout Armor... Though ours has Clan-tech improvements, like heavier armor that incorporates stealth composites, making our suits far more effective and survivable. Then he was on the town, and he couldn't spare another frivolous thought.
Van Horn landed with two other troopers at the main gates, which had been smashed open by the Heavy APCs only seconds before. Moving on foot, the three cut around the corner and brought up their weapons.
In the middle of the courtyard, van Horn saw a most macabre display, as several natives had been crushed by the twenty-ton transports, and others were starting to be cut down by the machine guns mounted in the front of the craft. Natives ran everywhere, all armed with merely swords, spears, and bows.
Van Horn felt rage at the senseless slaughter, and he took it out on the Blakest infantry as they started to debark out of the rear and side hatches. He loosed two shots from his gun, sending the miniature rockets to race into the back of the vehicle, and they impaled and smashed several hapless infantrymen before exploding, wounding or killing yet more. Off to his right and left, the other two troopers with van Horn also let their displeasure be known, each one raking the troops with laser beams and bullets. Bodies of the Blakest troopers collapsed into heaps, but it was not enough for van Horn, and he triggered his Jump Jets, flying further into the melee.
Several shots flew past him, and a few laser beams and bullet streams impacted onto his armor, but van Horn simply shrugged off the anti-personnel weapons as if they were raindrops. Taking aim, he sent another rocket into the back of the as-yet untouched Blakest APC, killing more PBIs before turning and racing into his first target. Once inside, anything that moved became an instant target for him to smash with his rifle, fists and feet. Several soldiers tried to shoot him point blank, but their outdated weaponry couldn't penetrate the armored caprice of the Scout Armor.
Van Horn tossed his Heavy Gyrojet Gun around, letting the 'smart strap' bring it to rest against his power/jump booster backpack, as using it in such an enclosed space was tantamount to suicide. Instead, he pulled out his favored sidearm, the M3000 .45 pistol, and fired the slugs point-blank into the last few remaining troops and the vehicle crew.
With the target neutralized, van Horn turned and walked out, part of him smugly satisfied at getting revenge on the Blakests at last, but another recoiling in horror from what he had done. Most of him, however, was simply determined not to lose any more friends, and he walked slowly back out of the Heavy Wheeled APC.
Vilini trembled at the sight of the new terrors at the doorstep to his once-peaceful town. He stood in mute shock as the strange forms leapt up and over the walls of the lower courtyard as if it was but a small bump in the road to hop over. From his position near the ramp leading up to the town proper, Vilini had been prepared to sacrifice himself so that he could delay the invaders and give most of the town's defenders some time to escape up to the more secure area above.
Now, however, he felt foolish, staring at creatures that walked and leapt about. Dozens of them, and they cut down the Wobbies' infantry as if they were zugarts to the slaughter! The image of their fearsomeness became even more entrenched when he saw the one that had charged into one of the large metal wagons walk out, covered in blood but looking none the worse for wear. I'll bet none of it is his.
"What do you think, Vilini?" His friend, Varshi, asked quietly from his side. "They do not seem to like the Wobbies, and they are not attacking us."
Vilini nodded. "I... I will go up to them and try to speak with them."
Varshi gave his friend a stare that screamed 'you're a moron.' "Vil, you can't be serious. They'd ignore you... If you're lucky."
Vilini shook his head. "It's either that, or we stand here all day waiting to be slaughtered." With that, he lowered his sword - though he did not sheath it, feeling that if he should die, it should be with a weapon in hand. Slowly, he made his way across the courtyard, which now was stained with blood and gore from Lupar, Gatón, and Wobbie alike. Part of him wanted to vomit, but Vilini pushed the feeling aside as he walked towards where several of the new arrivals had clustered together.
They easily noted the lupar's arrival, and they turned to look at Vilini as he continued forward at a trepid pace. Then the one that was covered in blood pointed and then turned back to the one that looked totally unique amongst the group, and its head seemed to bob up and down, as if talking, though Vilini heard nothing of the sort.
The unique one nodded its head and then turned, and several of the ones that looked like the one covered in blood jumped up and over the walls. He must've given them an order... But how? Then the blooded one came up and waved to Vilini. The latter stopped and cleared his throat. "Wh- What are you doing here?" Oh, great move idiot, challenge them! Vilini prepared to be cut down at any second.
Then the blooded one reached up and took off what appeared to be its head, though as soon as it moved upwards, Vilini knew it to be a helmet. Then he received a great shock. "YOU!"
Van Horn smiled slightly. "Yes, Vilini, it's me. I said that I would be back, and I meant it."
Vilini stood silently, mouth agape. "But... But we thought... " It was all he could say, and he simply sunk down to his knees.
Van Horn frowned. "Vilini, are you all right?" Then he decided on a different track. "Where's Shaman Forbasa? Or the Maegister?"
Vilini blinked. "The... The Maegister and Forbasa are in his house up in the town." He looked around to the group of his fellow natives standing at the base of the ramp, their attention clearly focused in the conversation. Then he turned back to look up at van Horn. "You're really going to help?"
Van Horn shook his head. "We didn't come all this way to bake a cake." He sighed. Then Lieutenant Vickers walked over, and spoke to van Horn via the external speaker on his suit. Vilini couldn't understand the English, but he listened with rapt attention nonetheless.
Van Horn then said something loud and sharp, and he nodded to the Lieutenant before turning to face Vilini again. "Vilini, you need to get everyone to the main town. Everyone, you understand?"
Vilini nodded and stood up, purpose giving him strength. "Why? What's wrong?"
The muted footfalls of heavy war machines and the roar of missiles answered that question.
Van Horn looked over towards the sound, although the walls cut off his vision. "Damnit," he cursed in English before turning to Vilini. "Just go, now! Get up to the town and don't come down!" With that, he quickly put the helmet back on, careful to reattach the connectors for life support and electronics. As the HUD flickered to life, he scanned it to see what the trouble was. Oh, shit.
Then he noticed that Vilini was still standing there. "Damnit, MOVE!" Van Horn said, using his suit's own external speaker. As the lupar turned and scrambled away, van Horn pivoted on his right heel and ran towards the gates where Vickers stood with his sergeant.
"Van Horn, report." Vickers said, opening a channel.
"Sir, the natives are evacuating to the top of the plateau. The lower area should be clear soon," van Horn said as he came to where the other two troopers stood just outside the walls. Van Horn couldn't help but notice, now, that the fields outside were trampled, the tall crops of native plants smashed beneath the feet of soldiers and 'mechs. Then he turned to the east, and his HUD showed what the Scout and Salamander squads in their skirmish line were detecting.
The icons painted by his suit's battlecomp gave him reason to pause, as symbols for five battlemechs and four tanks were projected over the view he got out the front of his helmet visor. Van Horn gulped nervously. That's a good amount of power. We may not be able to hold...
Then Vickers' voice rang out over the platoon-wide frequency. "Foxtrot and Sierra Squads, fall back. Foxtrot, lay fire on the plain and burn the grass. All squads rendezvous at the walls and take cover."
Van Horn puzzled at the orders for a split-second, and then he blinked as he realized the Lieutenant's plan. Burn the fields of grass and crops, and get a smoke screen going, and then hold position behind walls that will block visilight and IR. Magscan can see through, but they'll need to be close to do that, and we can hit them from that kind of range. It wasn't the perfect plan, but as the Drill Instructors told their recruits, "it's better to do something constructive immediately than to sit and think up the perfect plan... After it's become useless."
Then another set of icons popped up on his HUD. Brown markers...? The Lupar? Van Horn realized that a few lupar units must've remained with the Blakests, despite the fleeing of their comrades. Part of him wanted to dismiss them as weak-minded fools, but then he remembered that they might simply be too afraid of running out on people who knew where they lived. Either way, we have to avoid killing them if we want to take this planet from the Wobbies.
"Van Horn, I have a special mission for you," Vickers said, his voice much more defined, and van Horn realized that he must be on a private channel. "Yes sir?" He replied.
In front of him, the Lieutenant's armor turned to face van Horn. "I want you to move up to the main town above us and set up a comm link to the flotilla. We can't get a good signal while running around, and we can't stay too still down here without being behind these walls and blocking half the sky.
"So get your ass up there and call Captain Ladavic and see if she can't light a fire under those transport pilots."
Van Horn nodded as Vickers finished speaking. "Yes sir." He said, and then quickly turned around and jogged his armor towards the ramp, intending to use it and thus avoiding making himself a target to the Wobbies. To his right, troopers in Marauder, Elemental, and Gnome battle armor leapt over the walls, coming to land inside the courtyard. Most of them then aligned in squads and turned to hop back up to the narrow ramparts that ran along the stone walls.
Then he was at the ramp, and van Horn changed the focus of his attention as he ran headlong up towards the town. He did, however, glance occasionally to look over the plains, and the scene caused him worry.
The plains to the east of Hercor burned with fires started by the power of plasma-based flamers mounted on the Salamander armor. The fires didn't burn too widely, however, as this part of the continent received a good amount of rain, but the smoke they produced was enough to scare the incoming forces to take the long way around, delaying their approach.
Strange, I didn't see the Salamanders of Foxtrot squad returning to the town, van Horn thought. But he pushed this from his mind as he reached the gates to Hercor proper.
The ornately carved gates were as he remembered them, their surface still untouched by the ravages of war. Although too small for a proper gatehouse, the town's upper gates did have a small platform above it from which defenders could rain down pain on any attacker. Standing there were a pair of lupar and two gatón, all carrying bows.
The four natives all notched back arrows, appearing nervous to van Horn's eye. I have no time to stop and explain to every person along the way, he realized, and he triggered his jump jets, leaping high and over the gate and its platform.
With a rush of noise and light, van Horn landed in the small upper courtyard. Around him, survivors of the lower defense forces turned and brought up their weapons, though their faces showed a good amount of fear.
"Wait! Don't attack!" Van Horn heard the familiar voice, and he turned to see Vilini striding forward from a group to his left. "This is one is a friend!" The lupar said and walked up to van Horn, sheathing his weapon.
Van horn wished he could flash the lupar a smile, but he settled for switching on his external speakers. "Vilini, time is short. What is the tallest structure in Hercor?"
The lupar blinked at the question. "What? Why?"
"Vilini, no time." Van Horn said urgently, and the lupar shook his head slightly. "Yes... Yes, the Temple. It was built on the highest part of the rock, and it has a third story balcony for some rituals."
"Where is it?" Van Horn asked, letting some worry seep into his voice as he checked his HUD. The feed from the other M.I. Troopers was coalesced into a tactical map in the corner of the HUD projection, and on it van Horn saw the icons of the 'mechs creep around the lines that represented the fires.
"I'll take you there." Vilini said and he turned to rush off. But van Horn quickly brought his hand lightly down on the lupar. "Not enough time to walk." He said and looked up. "It's in that direction?" Van Horn asked and pointed in the direction that Vilini had begun to move.
The lupar turned around and nodded after seeing van Horn's outstretched arm. "Yes, it is, but- YIPE!" His sentence ended with an unintended yelp as van Horn picked the lupar up by the shoulders. "What are you doing?!"
"I need a guide, so just relax." Van Horn then jumped up and triggered his jump jets, sending him and Vilini flying up and over several of Hercor's buildings. The lupar tensed in his arms, but he didn't try to escape as the two came to a landing inside a miniature square formed by several houses.
"Which way now? And it would be helpful if you could point it to me in mid-flight." Van Horn said matter-of-factly as he scanned the area out of reflex.
"Could you warn me before you do something that insane?!" Vilini demanded. He then tried to squirm out of van Horn's grip after speaking, but van Horn simply held on. "Vilini, direction, now."
The lupar sighed. "That way," he said, pointing, and then he again yelped as van Horn once more took them both on another jump. This time, the lupar managed to point out the temple, though he didn't try to speak.
Van Horn angled his jets in mid-flight and gave a bit more boost, and they flew the last few meters to drop down in yet another small square, this one framed by the impressively-large structure that sat on top of a rock pedestal.
This square, however, was not unoccupied like the last one. Dozens of lupar and gatón crowded the steps, all armed with weapons that were even pitiful by local standards. Butcher knives; bricks- are those pots and pans? "What the hell is this?" He asked Vilini.
Vilini again squirmed, and this time van Horn released him. "The temple is our last refuge. All the old, young, sick or otherwise infirm are in there. Those people in front are there to defend it should the gates fall." Although the lupar tried to sound strong, van Horn easily heard the quake in his voice.
"Well, you don't have to worry, Vilini, because my friends are here," van Horn said and he looked up to the top of the building. "I just need to call them." With that, he took a step away from the lupar and crouched a bit. Vilini realized what van Horn intended to do, and he turned and ran for the building, yelling or the natives there to not attack.
Then van Horn launched himself into the air, and again his jump jets came on so that he could fly in a short arc that brought him to rest on a small, flat-topped roof platform that gave a commanding presence of the town and the fields beyond. Good, now to set up the link, he thought. Using the chin plate that was mounted in his helmet, van Horn switched the HUD from battle mode to communications mode. Instantly, the targeting reticule and tactical display overlays were replaced by a series of icons.
Battle armor mounted a number of control systems. The simplest was the negative-feedback loops built into the suits control circuits, which was what let a trooper simply 'wear' his suit, rather than pilot it like a fighter or tank. But other commands were of course needed, and van Horn's Scout Armor mounted two additional systems. The first was his chin plate, which allowed him to switch HUD modes, targeting priorities, and scanning modes. However, it was not articulate enough for the finer principles of establishing communication between a ground position and an orbiting ship. This is where the second system comes in, as it is based on eye movement. Several small microlasers, harmless to the human eye, focused in on their movement, tracking to where van Horn's vision was focused. All he had to do was simply look over an icon, or other graphic control, and blink twice in quick succession to activate that feature or action.
The second system was not always the best for a battle-armored trooper, as he had to move his eyes around far too often in battle for it to be effective. However, by switching to the communications mode, the suit could use this system for a much finer control than was available through the normal, battle mode.
And so van Horn worked quickly, selecting communication icons that would set up a link to Lieutenant Vickers below, and then another that was sent up and swept across the sky. Activating the 'transmit' function, van Horn spoke into the void. "This is Vickers' Vanquishers, calling any Republic ship. Vickers' Vanquishers, calling any Republic ship, please reply."
He waited, and then repeated the call twice more, all the time looking over the enemy as they began to close with the town. From his position, the enemy looked far too close, and he worried that the troopers below would take some heavy casualties.
Then Vickers launched a nasty little surprise, as the Salamanders of Foxtrot Squad emerged from the fires they had started. Since the Salamander suit was designed to start fires, their clan designers had made the sensible choice of making their armor almost impervious to fire. Now, the squad raced from their flanking position, firing Inferno SRMs at the Blakest 'mechs.
Just as the first missiles reached their targets, exploding and sending clouds of burning petrochemicals al over their targets, van Horn heard his suit make a connection. "Vanquishers, this is the USS Turnabout Intruder," the voice said, and van Horn recognized the name as one of the Gray Fox-class troop transports, "we've just started dropping our troops. Why the chatter? Over."
"Turnabout Intruder, things aren't going too well. The Blakests have managed to retain a good amount of their native formations, and are using them as shields. We can't mount an effective counterattack and maintain a defensive perimeter around the town at the same time." Van Horn said hurriedly in one breath.
"Vanquishers, the troops are on their way. ETA is ten minutes. I don't know what else we can get there before then." The sailor aboard the DropShip sounded frustrated.
"Don't worry about that, son." A Third voice came in over the channel, and van Horn smiled as he recognized Ladavic's voice. "Van Horn, I know that's you. I figured shit would hit the fan, so I had the Young's squadron rearm and refuel before we went for the drop. They're now inbound, two minutes. Just hold off the Wobbies until then, and they'll strafe the living shit outta the bastards."
Van Horn nodded, though he knew that Ladavic couldn't see that. "Thanks cap'n! I'll inform the Lieutenant."
"Good. Now get off this frequency, I've got flotilla to manage."
"Yes sir." Van Horn replied and changed channels to speak to Vickers. "Lieutenant! Captain Ladavic has a squadron of aerofighters inbound, two minutes!"
"Good. Now get your ass down here, boy, and help us make sure that we have two minutes."
Vilini stood at the front door of the temple, not knowing what else to do, or where else to go. The others at the temple had asked about the battle, about the one that flew about, and what in general was going on. I told them 'I don't know.' He thought and sighed. And the sad thing is, I really don't know.
Then he heard the rushing noise of van Horn's jump jets, and he watched as the human landed in the square again. The blood-stained black armor made the man look even larger and more intimidating than when he had been to Hercor before, and Vilini shuddered involuntarily as he remembered seeing the human race into a transport full of enemy troops, cutting them down.
Van Horn didn't pause, but he simply jumped again, leaping the way he came. Vilini didn't expect that, but nor was he surprised. Somehow, I am getting numb to changes.
"So what was that?" A lupar asked from his side, and Vilini turned to see Kanu Farkas standing - well, leaning on a cane, really - next to him. Vilini sighed. "You probably won't believe me, but that was your friend, Vanhorn."
Kanu turned and gave Vilini an incredulous look. "You're kidding me, right?"
Vilini shook his head. "He and a large amount of his friends... They dropped from the sky." He shuddered. "I was on the ramparts, and I saw them drop from out of nothing, and they hopped around faster than anyone could keep track of them. Between them, they took down one of the metal giants and ripped the skin off of another. Then two metal wagons burst through our gates below, and Wobbie soldiers began to pour out... And I thought we were done." He shook his head. "Then I see those strange things bound over the walls and kill the Wobbies to a man."
Kanu blinked. "I guess I have to believe you... Since there's no way in Hell you made that up just now."
Vilini just nodded. Then before either could say anything, a gatón child standing on the steps pointed his finger into the sky. "Look! More lights!"
Van Horn took a short cut, hopping over a wall at the edge of the down and dropping to the ramp below, landing about halfway down the rocky plateau. Turning his head, he watched as the soldiers from Foxtrot squad raced to the lower courtyard, having sowed chaos amongst the enemy lines.
But not without cost, van Horn thought, noting that two of the squad's trooper beacons were no longer lit. Vickers knew that he was asking a lot from them, and they knew the risks going into it, and the costs of not doing it. Van Horn sighed sadly, and he jumped from the ramp's edge to land just inside the courtyard's walls, using his jets to slow his descent along the way as he did before.
"Van Horn, over here!" Corporal Connors, the commander of the scouting squad, called from his position. Van Horn turned to the signal of his beacon and ran over in less than a second to the edge of the natives' barracks building.
Now, it would serve as an appropriate spotting post for the Scouts of Sierra squad. "Get up to the roof and join Graham, Stuger, and Jenkins. The rest of us will be on the floor beneath you." Connors said as van Horn ran up. The latter simply nodded and again triggered his jets, flying up and alighting on the edge of the stone building's roof.
Van Horn and the scout squad were lucky, in that the Hercor lupar built for the long-term, building their buildings from stone. Van Horn mused over this briefly, and then crouch-walked over to where the other three troopers of Sierra squad lay prone at the edge of the roof.
"Van Horn, glad you could make it." Private Jenkins said over the external speaker. "Use that oversized bottle rocket launcher of yours to help cover Stuger's corner."
"No prob." Van Horn said, and he moved to where Stuger lay, and went prone himself.
"Nice to see you're still alive." Stuger's feminine voice rolled out of her external speakers.
"Same here." Van Horn replied as he brought his Heavy Gyrojet Gun around and aimed it at the approaching battlemechs. "And why is everyone using external speakers instead of the taccom?"
"The Lieutenant's orders. He doesn't want the assholes playing any huff-duff games, just in case they got a BAP refitted onto one of those tin cans." Stuger replied as she aimed her Thunderstroke Gauss Rifle more carefully. Van Horn simply nodded in reply and turned to face the enemy.
Just as soon as he did, however, the first LRMs arched up and over from a Blakest Centurion that van Horn's HUD marked as an older CN9-A model. Old or not, this is going to suck, he thought and braced himself.
The ten LRMs impacted into the walls of the lower courtyard, blasting a huge section into rubble and sending chunks of stone flying backwards. Van Horn saw at least one trooper in an Elemental suit get crushed under one such chunk, though his beacon indicated that he was still alive, but just barely.
Then the counter-fire came from the Marauder suits as they fired the last of their LRMs, sending the projectiles to slam into the previously damaged Buccaneer. That 'mech responded in kind with a burst from its 'Sunbeam' ER Large Laser, sending a bolt of coherent light into the walls, melting their outside surface. But it didn't hit any M.I. troopers, for which van Horn was grateful.
Another two laser bolts then came inbound, this time from a PHX-3M Phoenix Hawk. One burned into the ground just in front of the walls, but the other tracked into a trooper in an Elemental suit, and it burned most of his armor off. Unbalanced, the trooper fell off the rampart and onto his back on the ground below. Van Horn winced, though he knew the trooper would be all right. Although he's going to be sore in the morning, he mused.
"The Buc's charging!" A voice called over the platoon's frequency. Van Horn looked and confirmed it for himself, seeing the Buccaneer tilt into a full run. "Oh shit." He mumbled as the 55-ton battlemech charged the courtyard at its maximum speed of just over ninety-seven kilometers per hour.
Just before it got to plow into the town, however, the Mobile Infantry platoon leaped up from behind the wall or from the ramparts. A hail of gunfire and short-ranged missiles slammed into the 'mech, but the MechWarrior pressed on, slamming through the breech in the walls and firing his medium lasers at anything that moved.
"Now!" Connors' voice rang over the scout squad's frequency. As one, they fired their light, but still-potent weapons. Van Horn triggered his heavy gyrojet gun, sending another rocket to slam into the left arm of the Buccaneer, a split second ahead of Stuger as she aimed more carefully, and fired her gauss rifle. The crack of air being parted by the hypersonic projectile she fired was only drowned out by the noise of the nickel-ferrous slug impacting on the side of the 'mechs square-shaped head.
Several shots came from the tiny windows below, including a single man-portable SRM handled by the squad's heavy weapons specialist. Their impacts came from an unexpected direction, and the Buccaneer's MechWarrior paused again, unsure of what was where.
It was all the M.I. needed. Van Horn and the other three on the rooftop got up and launched themselves towards the 'mech, using their jump jets to aim for the broad back of the medium design.
The MechWarrior had a trick up his sleeve, however. Seeing the troopers coming at him from behind, he twisted the 'mech around to its right, bringing up the massive hatchet and swinging it carefully.
Private Jenkins never had a chance, as the razor-edged, depleted-Uranium blade sliced through armor and flesh as if they weren't there. The two halves of his body fell forward in an arc, and crashed to the ground.
Van Horn, though, didn't pay it any mind as instinct and training took over. Although his target had moved lightning quick, he still managed to land on the upper side of the shoulder. Moving before the Blakest mechwarrior could think of a counter, van Horn clambered over the 'mech's upper surface and reached the cockpit.
He ran so fast that he slammed into it, cracking the ferro-glass canopy and startling the MechWarrior within. Van Horn only took a second to look over the pilot's scared face, and then he reached up with his hands and pried the glass away from the frame. The canopy broke and shattered, and soon nothing stood between him and the person that had killed a fellow trooper.
The man behind the controls, however, was no fool. He leaned back in his command couch, purposefully sending the Buccaneer to fall backwards. The tactic was one developed to use against battle armored troops, as it would squish any soldier on the falling side, and may even shake off any other trooper still stuck to the outside.
Van Horn gripped the edges of the cockpit with all the suit-enhanced strength that he could muster, holding on as his world tilted crazily and then came to a sudden halt as the massive war machine slammed into the ground. His bracing, however, kept him from falling, and though now he was parallel to the ground, he was still covering the mechwarrior's view.
But now that mechwarrior reacted first, and he brought out a pistol. "No, infidel, you- AUGH!" His words were cut off by a scream of alarm, as van Horn simply let go and slammed into the hapless warrior, using his weight and the weight of his armor to crush the foolish Wobbie.
"Goddamned idiot MechWarriors, always gotta say something and be some fucking holodrama hero." Van Horn mumbled as he stood on the rear wall of the cockpit, pushing himself off of the still-squirming body of the Blakest. Van Horn thought about finishing him off, but decided that it would be a waste of a bullet. Instead, he jumped up - making sure that he didn't jump heard enough to trigger his jump jets - and latched onto the canopy edge, and then pulled himself out of the 'mech's head.
He then wished he hadn't. Standing a hundred meters beyond the gap in the wall was the Centurion, which, beset with laser and machine gun fire as it was, leveled its autocannon at van Horn, obviously intending to get revenge.
Then the enemy mechwarrior jerked his weapon up, trying to re-aim at something much higher than van Horn. Before the latter could think of why, or even of escaping, two azure streams of charged particles slammed into the chest of the 50-ton machine, quickly followed by a score of missiles.
Armor exploded underneath the devastating assault, shards raining down on the ground below. A dark shape passed overhead and van Horn heard the screeching roar of an aerospace fighter overwhelm all other noises for a second. Run asshole! He screamed to himself mentally, and he jumped clear of the Buccaneer in time to see a second PPC and missile strike slam into the battered Centurion.
As the last of the armor melted away underneath the hellish caress of the coruscating beams, van Horn could see some of the inner workings of the 'mech, including the engine shielding for its fusion reactor. Then the missiles hit, slamming into the Blakest battlemech and annihilating whole blocks of equipment.
"HIT THE DIRT!" Van Horn called over the radio, knowing what he had seen. He took his own advice, landing behind a chunk of wall and going prone just in time to have the Centurion's reactor explode as its containment fields collapsed, releasing the energy of a microscopic star into a confined space. The resulting conflagration shook the ground as the upper sections of the Centurion disintegrated and pieces of it were propelled in all directions.
Again the screech of an aerospace fighter went overhead, and van Horn smiled. 'Bout fucking time.
Captain Parker pulled out of his attack run, angling off to present a harder target to the ground-bound battlemechs. A few shots came up, but they were poorly aimed and went far wide.
"Got 'em!" His wingman, Drunkard, called. "Ricky, did ya see that? The SOB blew up like a firecracker!"
"Good job, Pete." Parker called as he pulled around, aiming for another pass. Below him, more of his squadron went into their own runs, slamming hordes of lasers, particle beams, autocannon shells and missiles into the Wobbie 'mechs. As he watched his HUD, another 'mech, a lightweight Initiate, collapsed under the firepower of two Sulla omnifighters. To his grim satisfaction, it didn't get back up.
"Hammer One, this is Hammer Eleven. It looks like the Wobbie tanks and remaining 'mechs are racing for the town." The lead pilot of the last fighter element radioed in. "I don't think we'll be able to come around again before they're too close to the friendlies."
Parker grimaced inside his neurohelmet. "All right, then. Hammer One to all Hammers, take up orbiting positions. If anything moves into the kill zone, go in and slice it apart." He called over his squadron's frequency, and then he changed to the M.I.'s taccom. "Hammer One calling Vanquisher One. Come in Vanquisher One."
"This is Vanquisher One to Hammer One. Thanks for the help, boys, you saved our asses." Vickers called over the radio.
Parker frowned. "That may not be true, Vanquisher One. We took them down a few pegs, but they're moving in fast and hard. We won't be able to strafe them when they get that close."
"You don't have to. Check your air-to-air, flyboy." Vickers called back with a bemused tone. Confused, Parker did so, switching his HUD back to its normal, air-to-air mode. He then felt like smacking himself. "Damn, I must be getting old." He muttered.
Van Horn got up from his prone position and aimed his Heavy Gyrojet Gun over the top of the stone chunk he had used for cover. He was not surprised, but still amazed, to see nothing left of the Wobbie Centurion, save its legs and hips laying on the ground. Beyond that, he saw streams of weapons fire raining down on the Blakest 'mechs and tanks. Cheers came over the platoon frequency, quickly followed by orders from squad leaders as everyone realized that the enemy was moving faster, driving straight for the town.
Van Horn jumped up and over the stone chunk, jetting over to land on the remains of a stone rampart, joining the survivors of Sierra squad. He alighted carefully and aimed his gun over towards the faster of the Blakest tanks as it approached.
"Van Horn, where the Hell did you buy that much luck?" Castellano asked as he brought his own weapon up. "I know there ain't no one born with that much."
Van Horn shrugged, his suit exaggerating the maneuver. "Dunno. Must've been a blue light special at K-Sears."
"Funny." Castellano replied, firing at the Blakest tank with the disposable LAW round every light trooper carried. The small rocket flew out, quickly followed by the ones from the other members of Sierra Squad.
Van Horn, however, felt like using the last two shots in his current clip. Aiming carefully, he fired them both in quick succession, aiming at the driver's port of the obsolescent Vedette Medium Tank that rolled its way towards the town.
The explosions of his rounds were lost in the general rain of fire that came at it from the remainder of the Vanquishers. The turret moved and tried to track, but a missile from an Elemental suited trooper slammed into the turret ring and froze it in its tracks.
Then a pair of heavy laser bolts flew in from the enemy Phoenix Hawk. Although its armor was ravaged by the air strike, it still retained its weapons and internal equipment, and thus it managed to spear a single trooper in a Marauder suit, vaporizing the armor and flesh of the trooper in an instant.
Van Horn felt a surge of anger, and he quickly dropped his gun for his own LAW. Taking careful aim, he launched it at the Phoenix Hawk. His shot was true, and the small rocket, though not particularly devastating, took a small chunk of armor from the breast of the 45-ton 'mech.
The Blakest MechWarrior ignored it, realizing that the heavier Marauder and Elemental suited troopers were more of a threat. But before van Horn and Sierra squad could again leap out to rip the armor off of the enemy 'mech, a wave of missiles and lasers hit it from behind. The Phoenix Hawk's rear armor couldn't stand up, and a gout of flame poured from its back as its engine shielding was breached, though unlike the Centurion, the reactor shut itself off before it could explode, and the 'mech fell drunkenly forward to crash into the hole in the walls.
Van Horn blinked, as he thought that battle fatigue had gotten to him. Am I seeing triple? He thought, as over a hundred blue icons clustered in his HUD. Then he blinked again as he realized that the other two battle armor platoons had finished their drop.
"C'mon you apes! Get off your asses and onto the field!" Vickers called over the platoon frequency. "You want the Army to say they saved out asses while we were hiding?"
"No SIR!" The entire platoon replied as one, van Horn included. As one, they leapt out and raced to join with the other one hundred six troopers now sending the enemy into a panic.
Vilini had climbed to the top of the temple; to the very same spot that van Horn had used to oversee the battle. Now the lupar used the platform, along with Kanu and Alexis' brother, Reyato. The three had been the only ones willing to stand up at the tallest, and therefore most exposed portion of the town.
"Those lights in the sky must be related, somehow, to the... To the new arrivals." Reyato observed quietly, not sure on how to call the battle-armored infantry.
Kanu grunted. "I'd bet money on that." He said, and then they fell quiet again, listening to the strange sounds of a strange battle waft up from below. Their vantage point gave them a clear view of the last of the Wobbie 'mechs, an Orion, collapsed as two dozen troopers tore into its metal hide.
"They look like raknas attacking a zugart." Vilini mumbled quietly, comparing the small, native scavengers to the battle armored troops as they sliced into the hide of the 75-ton battlemech.
"You are sure you saw Vanhorn?" Kanu asked again for what seemed to Vilini as the thousandth time. The latter sighed and nodded. "Yes, Kanu. His face and voice are most distinctive. I am positive that it was he."
The group then fell quiet again, as they watched the troopers on the fields below slow their movements as they realized that the enemy was slain. Some then milled about, looking over the wreckage of the Blakest tanks and 'mechs, while others continued to sweep outward, looking for any threats. A few even began to round up some of the lupar soldiers that had been under the command of the Blakests. Those that haven't fled in terror, Vilini thought neutrally.
Beside him Kanu shifted his weight again. It might have been from the need to keep his still-hurt leg from having too much weight on it, but Vilini knew that it meant that Kanu wanted to ask again if he was sure.
Vilini shook his head a bit. I can't really blame, him, though, he thought. It's been months since his brothers disappeared with Vanhorn, the kurrnaki, and that Alexis girl. He probably gave them up for dead.
Vilini looked over at the other two with him. Or maybe not. "Yes, Kanu, I'm sure." He said as Kanu opened his mouth to speak again.
Kanu blushed a bit. "Actually, what I was going to say was that we should go and tell the council about this."
Vilini sighed and took one last look over the plains. "Alright, let's go."
Van Horn walked back to the courtyard with Castellano and Stuger, a trio of captured Blakest MechWarriors walking ahead of them. The sullen Wobbies had their hands raised and placed on the tops of their heads in the ancient position that prisoners of war were instructed to take. All three of them were only dressed in the cooling vest, shorts, and plasteel boots that was the MechWarrior's unofficial, official uniform across known space.
Van Horn kept his eyes carefully trained on them, knowing that prisoners could either be hopelessly demoralized, or so determined that only death would stop them. The Wobbies, being a group of terrorists and religious fanatics, could go either way, and so he and the other two troopers walked in a shallow 'V' formation that covered the prisoners from three angles, each two meters apart.
They had walked like this for some time, how long van Horn didn't bother to guess. All he knew was that it was long enough that the captured Wobbies' arms began to droop a bit. He still kept a careful watch, however, despite his own tiredness.
They continued like this for another fifteen minutes, until they finally got to the broken front gates of Hercor's lower courtyard. There, Vickers had set up a temporary command post and checkpoint. Van Horn and the other two escorted the prisoners past where Vickers stood consulting with his two counterparts from the Desert Thunder and the Grenadiers, along with several troopers covering the area to keep their commanders safe. Walking through the gates, they also passed the triage area, where medic troopers worked on the few still-alive casualties. Castellano gave a look towards them, and van Horn knew that the young man wanted to help. "Dan, if you want, me and Stuger can take this trash in while you lend a hand."
Castellano looked back at van Horn. "You sure?"
"Just go, Dan." Stuger added in, her voice sounding tired over the radio. Castellano nodded, holstering his weapon and he turned to head for the three men and one woman who had been hurt.
More than that were hit, actually, van Horn remembered, but the nature of this kind of combat doesn't lend itself to many non-fatal wounds. He then turned and again kept a good eye on the prisoners until they got to the natives' storehouses. The M.I. had appropriated an empty one, using it as a place to keep the Wobbies under guard.
"Got three more for ya, Corporal." Van Horn called to Corporal Fakir, commander of Bravo squad, which had taken over prisoner guard duties. The addressed trooper turned from his position at the door to the storeroom, his battered Marauder armor glinting in the early afternoon light. "Just stick him in there with the other sacks of shit." He said contemptuously over the external speakers, deliberately letting the Wobbies hear his disdain for their person.
Van Horn mentally shrugged. "Right." With that, he and Stuger herded the three prisoners into the room, joining the single MechWarrior from the Phoenix Hawk and the members of the Vedette Tank's crew to sit on the floor of the empty room. Van Horn and Stuger then stood back, letting the pair of Bravo squad troopers move back to cover the captured Blakests with their heavy pulse lasers.
With that, van Horn and Stuger then saluted Fakir, who returned the gesture, and the two scout armored troopers turned and walked towards the natives' barracks building, in the lee of which stood or sat several M.I. troopers checking over their armor and weapons.
Amongst the group was the massive bulk of Jonathan Osis, easily recognizable in his Gnome heavy armor. Even though there are other Gnome troopers, Osis stood taller than them, as his armor didn't have to be resized to fit a smaller frame.
He turned as van Horn and Stuger arrived. "Glad to see you made it, Earl. You too, Private." He said over his external speakers.
"Same here," van Horn replied, and Stuger nodded. "We've been out collecting the trash. Any news?"
Osis shook his head, though he had to exaggerate it so that his large helmet would move. "Not much. The aerojocks are still circling, but they don't see anything nearby. The Lieutenant is comparing notes, and we're just waiting for any word from above."
Van Horn sighed and nodded. "The other transports are still inbound?"
"Yeah, another few minutes and we should see them." Osis replied.
"Van Horn, get over here." Vickers' tired voice came over the platoon frequency. "Yes sir." Van Horn replied and nodded again to Osis and Stuger. "If you two will excuse me, duty calls."
Osis' chuckle rolled from his helmet. "When does it not?"
Van Horn shrugged, and then turned and trotted over to the front gates. In a few seconds, he stopped near where the three lieutenants stood and saluted them. "Specialist van horn reporting as ordered, sir."
Vickers faced van Horn and returned the salute. "Enough of that, van Horn, we don't stand too much on formality in my unit."
Van Horn nodded. "Yes sir. You rang then, sir?"
"Heh, funny." Vickers said quietly and paused. Then he spoke again, louder. "We have some shuttles coming in from the Rodger Young right after the 'mechs and tanks land. They'll be carrying the advance Seabee teams and their equipment, so that we can start setting up a runway for the aerodynes." Vickers then pointed up to the town on the spire above. "Since this is not our land, technically, I'd like some permission, as well as information for the Seabees on where the best place to lay the runway would be so that we're not too much in the way. So I want you to go up there and talk to your native friends, see if we can't get some help from them."
Van Horn nodded. "Yes sir." He hesitated for a moment, and Vickers noticed. "Anything you'd like to ask, van Horn?"
The addressed nodded. "Yes sir. Do you know if the other mission specialists will be on those shuttles?"
Van Horn could almost hear the grin in Vickers' voice. "Oh yeah. They've been away from home long enough, I think."
Van Horn nodded. "Then I respectfully request permission to delay my mission until they arrive, sir. They will be an immeasurable help."
Vickers nodded. "All right. Just wait over by that ramp, then, and make sure that none of the natives try to stick their noses in before we're done here. Have Corporal Connors give you a trooper for escort." He saw van Horn stiffen, and Vickers spoke again to cut off the attempted protest. "No challenge on this, van Horn. It's SOP, no matter where we are."
Van Horn paused, and then nodded. "Of course."
Mikula held onto the armrests of the Assault Transport as it bucked a bit in the upper atmosphere of his homeworld. And my stomach hasn't even settled from the battle in orbit, he thought. He decided to try and distract himself by looking around the cabin at the other people there.
Unlike before, he sat in the upper cabin of the transport, which had some decent seats for carrying non-armored personnel. The seats were aligned along the walls like the bench seats of the lower hold, but these at least had some slightly more comfortable padding and armrests. In front if Mikula, along the opposite wall, four men and a woman sat buckled into their seats, talking to each other quietly, and glancing over at the three natives often. To his right and left, Alexis and Pavlo sat, respectively, still clad in their light body armor and still carrying their weapons, as they had been warned that they were traveling into a war zone, and it was always best to come fully prepared.
For his part, Mikula wondered if he was truly prepared. He worried over what they would see when they got to Hercor, as he had seen recordings of humanity's past battles. Not that I particularly cared, at first, he remembered. But they made us watch several of them before they would give us permission to learn how to use their weapons.
Mikula sighed. After a while, though, I realized why. They wanted to make sure that we knew what we were getting in to. Their way of fighting wars is devastating, terrifying. More often than not, people end up dead before they realize that they're under attack. Mikula remembered the recordings well, as they were remarkably similar, yet astoundingly different than the few battles he had seen in person before the Wobbies came. Similar, because they always left bodies everywhere. But different, because they aren't completely orderless melees. The last had given him some hope. These humans don't fight wars like us. Their organization, tactics... They all revolve around inflicting maximum casualties against their enemies, while losing as little of their own people as possible. He felt as if he could trust them. Trust them to not throw away lives casually, or let thirst for glory interfere with their duty.
But even as he remembered those thoughts, he again went back to the recordings he had seen. Another thing much different is the way the land is affected. Almost everywhere they fight, the land is devastated. He thus worried over what had happened to Hercor, and his friends and family.
Then Alexis placed her left hand over his right, bringing him from his thoughts to face her. She smiled a bit, and nodded slightly.
Mikula smiled back. She knows what I'm thinking. Probably even has been thinking about it herself. He turned his hand so that he could give hers a gentle squeeze. Whatever happens, we face it together.
The intercom on the cabin wall then burst into staticy life. "We're approaching the LZ. Hold onto your hats, boys and girls, we'll be goin' vertical in five." The pilot of the shuttle reported and then cut the speaker off so she could concentrate on her approach.
Mikula silently thanked the pilot for her warning, as he knew that the transition from horizontal flight to vertical flight was a bit unsettling. That thought then brought up another in his mind, one that set up an epiphany. How much I've changed. He spent the next few minutes mulling over that idea. Look at me... I not only understand their language, can speak it, but I even am used to the idea of flying through the air, of changing that flight so that we can land straight down, traveling between worlds, between stars... So many changes. Mikula began to wonder just how deeply he had been affected.
The transport lurched suddenly, and Mikula had an instant of fear that the ship had been hit. Then he felt the forward motion of the craft slow, his own body's inertia fighting the change in directions, and he knew that they were beginning their descent to the surface of the planet.
"I wonder if anything's left..." Pavlo muttered. Mikula turned to his brother and shrugged. "We can only hope."
Pavlo turned and nodded slightly, but he didn't speak.
Mikula wondered at that, but then he felt the gee forces from the ship's thrusters increase, and then the thump as the assault transport landed on the ground.
We're home.
Mikula, Pavlo and Alexis had all waited until the Seabee engineers had moved out, taking the small jeep that they had managed to fit into the lower hold of the transport. After they left, though, the three had climbed down the access ladder and then walked out of the bow doors of the transport.
Now, however, they all stood transfixed at the surrounding terrain. Mikula gaped over the holes that had been carved into the walls of Hercor, and especially at the large battlemech that lay dead in the large gap. Beyond, he could see the shapes of the two heavy APCs, and the unmoving forms of numerous dead bodies lying on the ground next to them.
Then he turned and looked at the fires burning up part of the plains, though by now they were being fought by soldiers in Salamander armor, who dug up firebreaks with their suits' wicked-looking claws. Shattered husks of tanks and other 'mechs lay at various positions along the plains near the town, and he saw a large grouping of lupar like himself being marched to a holding area by several troopers in Elemental armor.
He shook his head at that. I know, they might've been coerced... Or maybe not, Mikula thought. Either way, I hope not too many were killed.
A soldier bounded over the wall, coming to land a dozen meters from Mikula and the others. They turned and saw the trooper take off his helmet to reveal himself as van Horn. Mikula smiled a bit, glad that his friend had come through the battle safely. Though with those gashes in his armor, it must've been pretty hard fought.
Van Horn waved the three over to him, and they complied. They also remembered that they were still in a combat zone, and so the best-equipped natives on Bowman's Planet held their weapons carefully at guard.
Van Horn smiled a bit as they approached, even as he looked over their weapons. "Glad to see that you took your training seriously."
Mikula nodded. "Always. How did it go down here?" He asked trepidly.
"Better than we feared, worse than we hoped," van Horn replied. "Anyway, I need your help. All of you."
"What for?" Alexis asked with a slight frown of puzzlement.
Van Horn turned and pointed towards the town above. "They'd just seen a rather nasty battle, and they might not be too trusting of any human, even me." He turned back to the three natives. "I need you three to go u there with me so that we can talk to them and let them know that we're here to help."
Mikula nodded. "Your reasoning is sound. Let's go."